I recently visited Mount Rushmore in South Dakota with my family. While there, we toured the sculptor’s studio, where Gutzon Borglum and his team of 400 artists worked when not on the mountain. It took Mr. Borglum and his team fourteen years to carve Mount Rushmore.

Mr. Borglum built a sculptor’s studio so that he could carve a scaled down version of what would later be carved on the mountain. The model was scaled an inch to a foot. Washington’s face on the model was 60 inches long. On the mountain it would be sixty feet long.

Here is a picture my daughter took from inside the sculptor’s studio. There you can see the model Mr. Borglum and his team made. While outside the window, you can see the mountain. They are not the same. As you can see from the model, Mr. Borglum and his team intended to carve the torsos of the presidents. They never finished. They were still working when World War II came along and the government shut them down.

I don’t think anyone would argue that what Mr. Borglum and his team created on Mount Rushmore isn’t art. Mr. Borglum died suddenly in March of 1941. His son Lincoln Borglum continued to lead the project, but by October of that same year, they had run out of money, and the federal government could offer no assistance as all resources at that time were going to the war. Lincoln and the team finished up as best they could, then removed all the machinery and the buildings from the mountain. They were finished.

Lincoln Borglum said, “I wonder if in my father’s critical eyes it would ever have been finished.” This is a sentiment I well understand as an author. In fact, I published 23 books in ten years, some way faster than I would have liked in an effort to keep up with publishers’ schedules. To this day I want some of those books back. I wanted more time with them. They weren’t as finished as I wanted them to be. But just as Lincoln Borglum and his team had to admit they were done enough, I had to do the same, many times over.

How many of you would say that your book might never be fully complete? You could likely continue to change words and tweak phrases for all time and still never feel like it’s perfect. What about something that feels only half done, like Mount Rushmore? Can you imagine your life’s work standing for decades to be viewed by roughly 234 million people (at roughly 3 million visitors a year since 1942)? The thought of that many people reading a book I considered only half done makes me squirm! Yet that is the story of Mount Rushmore, and it leaves me with this thought.

People can still appreciate art even if the artist wasn’t done.

People can read your book and enjoy it, even if you wanted more time with it.

Art is subjective. We put it out there, and some people like it while others don’t. That’s okay. But I’m no longer going to agonize over the art I’ve released that doesn’t meet my standards of perfection (which, like Mr. Borglum are likely way too high). I will always do my best with the time I have. Then I will release my art into the world for people to experience. And while that is happening, I will start a new project, all the while remembering that art is too important not to share.

Leonardo Da Vinci said, “Art is never finished, only abandoned.” Isn’t that the truth? Lincoln Borglum was forced to abandon Mount Rushmore. I was forced to abandon many books before I was ready to do so. Yet those works are still able to be enjoyed. That the artist moved on did not negate what the artist created. The same is true for your books. Sometimes, we have to abandon the work of art and move on to another project. When this happens to you, remember Mount Rushmore and trust that your book can still be enjoyed by many people for years to come.

Have you ever abandoned a story? Did you publish one before you felt it was ready? Share in the comments. I’m curious to hear your stories.

Jill Williamson is a chocolate loving, daydreaming, creator of kingdoms, and the author of several young adult fantasy novels including the Blood of Kings trilogy. She loves teaching about writing. She blogs at goteenwriters.com and also posts writing videos on her YouTube channel and on Instagram. Jill is a Whovian, a Photoshop addict, and a recovering fashion design assistant. She grew up in Alaska without running water or electricity and now lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two kids. Find Jill online at jillwilliamson.com or on InstagramYouTubeFacebookPinterest, and Twitter.