You've read all the books. You've got three different plotting methods bookmarked. Your Scrivener project has seventeen different organizational templates, and you're currently debating whether to use the Hero's Journey, Save the Cat, or the Three-Act Structure for your novel.

Meanwhile, your actual manuscript sits at 4,000 words, untouched for three weeks.

If this sounds familiar, you're stuck in what I call Structure Paralysis—and ironically, Neil Gaiman's most famous piece of advice holds the key to breaking free. But not in the way you might think.

The "Finish Things" Rule You've Probably Misunderstood

Gaiman's eighth rule of writing is deceptively simple: "Finish what you're writing." Most writers nod along, thinking they understand. Of course you should finish your draft. Everyone knows that.

But here's what gets missed: Gaiman isn't just talking about finishing your novel. He's talking about finishing anything—and that includes your planning phase.

The problem isn't that you're planning too much or too little. It's that you're not finishing your planning. You're perpetually researching structures, always one more craft book away from being "ready" to write. You've confused preparation with progress.

Introducing the Structure Closure Method

The Structure Closure Method is a specific technique that forces you to complete your structural planning in one definitive session—and then locks it away. No revisions. No second-guessing. No switching to a different framework halfway through your draft.

Here's how it works:

Step 1: Choose Your Deadline (2-4 Hours Maximum)

Set a strict time limit for your planning session. Not "this weekend" or "by Tuesday." I mean a literal block of time: Saturday, 9 AM to 1 PM. Four hours maximum. This isn't arbitrary—it's short enough to prevent overthinking but long enough to create something workable.

Step 2: Pick ONE Structure Framework (And Commit)

Before your planning session begins, choose your structural approach. Three-Act? Seven-Point Story Structure? The Fichtean Curve? Pick one. Write its name at the top of your page. This is your framework for this project, period.

The key word here is closure. You're not picking the "best" framework—you're picking a framework and closing the decision.

Step 3: Fill In Every Beat (Even Badly)

During your planning session, fill in every single beat your chosen structure requires. If you're using Save the Cat's 15 beats, you write something for all 15 beats. If it's the Three-Act Structure's eight sequences, you map all eight.

Here's the crucial part: Your answers can be terrible. They can be vague. They can be placeholders like "something exciting happens here" or "protagonist learns important lesson—figure out what later."

The goal isn't perfection. It's completion.

Step 4: The Lock-Away

When your time is up, you're done. Take your structural plan, save it, and here's the magic: convert it to a PDF or print it out. Make it non-editable. Put it in a drawer or a folder you won't open except for quick reference.

You've finished your structure. Gaiman's rule is satisfied. Now you write the actual story.

Why This Works When Everything Else Hasn't

The Structure Closure Method addresses the real problem behind structure overwhelm: the false belief that perfect planning prevents writing problems.

When you leave your structure "open"—constantly tweakable, always improvable—you create an escape hatch. Every time writing gets hard (which it will), you can bail out to "fix your structure." You convince yourself that the difficulty is a planning problem, not a drafting problem.

But drafting is supposed to be hard. That's where the actual creative work happens.

By forcing closure on your planning, you eliminate the option to endlessly optimize. You have a map. It might not be perfect, but it's finished. Now your only job is to write.

The Structure Closure Method in Action

Let me show you what this looks like in practice.

Rachel, a writer I know, had been "planning" her mystery novel for seven months. She'd switched from the Three-Act Structure to the Seven-Point Story Structure to Michael Hauge's Six-Stage Plot Structure. She had detailed notes on all of them. She'd written maybe 10,000 words of her actual novel, all disconnected scenes.

I walked her through Structure Closure. She chose a Saturday morning, set her timer for three hours, and committed to the basic Three-Act Structure with eight major plot points (because she'd read it most recently and it felt familiar).

In those three hours, she filled in all eight points. Some were detailed: "Act 1 Turning Point: Detective Sarah discovers the victim's phone contains a photo from inside the mayor's private office—taken the night of the murder." Others were vague: "Midpoint: Sarah learns something that changes her understanding of who the victim really was—maybe related to the art theft ring?"

When the timer went off, she saved it, closed the document, and opened her manuscript. She didn't let herself look at other structure books. She didn't revise her plan. She just wrote.

Six weeks later, she'd finished her first draft—not because her plan was brilliant, but because she'd stopped planning and started writing.

Your Planning Isn't Protecting You

Here's the hard truth: all that structure research feels productive, but it's often just sophisticated procrastination. You're not protecting your story by finding the "right" framework. You're delaying the moment when you have to sit with the discomfort of creation.

The Structure Closure Method works because it converts planning from an infinite loop into a finite task. You can finish your structure in a few hours. It won't be perfect. Your story will diverge from it in places (and that's fine). But you'll have satisfied Gaiman's rule: you'll have finished something.

And then you can move on to the only thing that actually matters—finishing the story itself.

Try It This Week

Pick a day this week. Block out 2-4 hours. Choose one structural framework—if you don't know which one, just use the basic Three-Act Structure. Fill in the beats, even badly. When time's up, close the document.

Then write your story.

You might be surprised how much easier it is to navigate an imperfect map than to wander in circles, convinced that with just a little more research, you'll find the perfect route.

The perfect route doesn't exist. But finished stories do.