We’re leaving softball practice, and I already know what the conversation is going to be like on the drive home. Sure enough, my fourth grader talks for several minutes about all the different ways she’s going to practice this week to get ready for Wednesday’s game. How she’ll spend 30 minutes practicing pitching, and she’ll ask Dad to hit fly balls to her. I say, “Sounds great,” instead of what I’m really thinking. No, you won’t. The next time you touch your softball bag will be Wednesday, when you grab it on the way out the door to the game.

I know this not only because I’ve seen the pattern repeat itself many, many times, but because I’m the same way. How many times have I pledged to run more/eat healthier/write 50,000 words in the month of November, and then done nothing? If I’m an adult who can’t muster up the discipline to do something hard, how can I expect my fourth grade daughter to choose differently?

About a year later, we’d dropped softball, but there were still plenty of other things both my older kids claimed they wanted to do but never actually did. Connor would say he wanted to run more, but instead would play outside or turn on Minecraft. McKenna said she wanted to read her Bible more and learn how to type, but would instead draw while listening to an audiobook. They were kids. They wanted to have fun. It made sense.

As my husband and I discussed a chapter from Finish by Jon Acuff, If You Want It Done, Make It Fun, my husband had a brilliant idea. “What if we pick a few of these things the kids say they want to be getting better at, and if they actually work on them a couple times a week, we reward them with an ice cream sundae party on the weekend?”

Our kids loved this idea. We made a spreadsheet (if the word “spreadsheet” is scary, you can instead think of it as a sticker chart. Nothing scary about a sticker chart, right?) with the days of the week across the top row, and their activities down the first column. Currently, it looks like this:

Goals chart

We told them, “To earn your ice cream sundae this Sunday, four of those boxes need to be filled in for each activity. But you don’t have to do it. It’s your choice.”

Then I made a production of buying the ingredients for the most fantastic sundae party ever. Reese’s cups, gummy worms, chocolate sprinkles, rainbow sprinkles, m&ms, Oreos, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, hot fudge, whipped cream, cherries, and more.

And that first week after they completed their goals, we turned them loose to put whatever they wanted on their sundae and just requested that they use their best judgment on what they could actually eat. While the kids ate, they were already talking about how they would get their goals done next week, and what they would put on their sundaes.

If you don’t mind a couple sugared-up kids—and in this situation, we didn’t mind at all!—that’s a parenting win.

So, what’s your ice cream sundae party?

If you’re like me, you don’t want to need one.

What I really want is to want to want to do the work.

With writing, I mostly do. Mostly, the joy of writing and the sense of accomplishment afterward is enough. The good habits I’ve built over the years push me forward. But if building in a reward makes the whole novel writing process more fulfilling and fun, why not do that?

So, what would feel like a reward to you? What’s your ice cream sundae party?

I think it’s helpful to think through several levels of rewards.

Small rewards

As I mentioned in the previous post, when I’m done writing for the day, I make a note of how many words I wrote. This is a small, dorky reward that I’ve built in for myself.

Or I might say, “When I’ve hit 1,000 words for the day, I get to text my friend and tell her that funny story from last night.” Or, “After I finish my first draft of my blog post, I get to eat a piece of candy.”

You can also go with the marble jar strategy, like many teachers use in classrooms to motivate the whole class toward good behavior. Receiving a class compliment earns a marble. Being noisy in the hallway loses a marble. And so forth. When you have enough marbles, you get to pick a special class activity like wacky hair day, movie day, etc. Maybe for every 500 words, you put a marble in the jar and earn your way toward something special?

Not-small rewards

But some occasions call for something bigger. Like finishing a novel, which is the goal we’re currently discussing. How could you celebrate finishing this first draft?  How could you celebrate editing your novel? Finishing the work brings rewards on its own, to be sure, but for me having something (besides laundry!) waiting for me at the end of a finished project feels very exciting.

Here are a few quick, inexpensive ideas to get your brain going:

  • Movie marathon with a friend
  • Trying that new coffeehouse you keep driving by
  • Buying a pint of your favorite ice cream. Maybe even eating the whole thing on your own.
  • Binge watching the new season of plug-in-show-name-here.
  • Buying (and reading!) that new book you’ve been eyeing.

Get specific with your plan to finish

Now that we’re getting ready to turn our attention to actual words on the page, let’s take a few moments to think through the mental prep work we’ve done these last few weeks and get very specific about your plan for finishing.

You don’t need to sign this in blood or anything, but I encourage you to write out your plan and put it somewhere you can see it. You can also put it in the comments below for some accountability!

Here’s an idea for framework:

First sentence: I’m going to work on my novel at this TIME and PLACE.

Second and third sentences: My biggest writing distractions are DISTRACTION. I’m going to handle them by ACTION.

Fourth and fifth sentences: To reward myself for SMALL GOAL, I will SMALL REWARD. When I finish BIG GOAL, I will REWARD.

Here’s mine:

I’m going to work on my novel when my kids are at school or I have childcare for the first half of my allotted time. My biggest writing distractions are my phone and email. I’ll keep my phone on DND and will only check it on my breaks to make sure I didn’t miss a call from school/babysitters. I’ll keep my email closed during writing time. To reward myself for getting to 1,000 words in a writing session, I get to pick out a piece of candy. When I finish my first draft, I’ll pick a coffeehouse I’ve never gone to and work there for the morning.

Now it’s your turn! What’s your plan for finishing?

Read the next post in the series: An Overview From Beginning To End