Obstacles: The Myth of Finishing Before You Begin
It's a common misconception some writers have that an entire story or novel must be fully mapped out before the writing starts.
While it's good to organize yourself and have an idea of what you want your story to accomplish, the belief that you will get the plot, characters, and/or dialogue perfectly aligned in your head before you set words to paper is just wishful thinking. If you believe you can do this, chances are pretty good that you will rarely actually sit down to write.
Not saying it's impossible -- somewhere there's a literary genius or two doing exactly that -- it's just highly unlikely for mere mortals. No matter what parents or teachers tell you, most of us find out that we're not geniuses who can consistently produce literary pearls within ten minutes of waking every afternoon.
Here's why:
Change and improvement come with the doing. It's likes a curse. The minute you start writing, your story starts to rearrange itself and make mincemeat of all the plans you had for it. Characters don't seem as wonderfully giddy or deliciously evil as you imagined. In fact, they often resist what you want them to do. They needle you with other ideas about where the story might go or what might happen. Your protagonist might as well be cardboard for how boring she is on the page. Actions don't seem natural. The plot has inconsistencies. Dialogue sounds as if it came from a seventh grade playbook.
Ego may be a culprit here. You have preconceived notions and exclusively want to control your story's action. Strangely, when you start to write, the words don't feel right. The story wants to go one way, and you stubbornly want to keep it constrained. When the ideas seem to change of their own accord without your direction, you might feel you're in unacceptable and unsafe territory. You're better than that. The idea must be flawed. It's not ready for paper, so you decide you need to think about it a little more.
As long as you keep your story in your head, it will never be full formed. It will never be subject to objective criticism. It never changes, never deepens, never gets any better. It will always be perfect, just the way it is.
It will never be read.
I think a writer has to maintain a little humility about the writing process. Revision -- changing things you thought you could rely on -- is a very large part of that process. There are no shortcuts. New ideas and changes occur to you as you write because somewhere deep in your brain, your instinct is telling you to consider other possibilities. These instincts are worth your attention.
Expect to be disappointed in your writing sometimes. Expect to feel that on some days, your writing is just crappy. On some days, it will be. The exaggerated anticipation of these fears can cause the so-called "block" that prevents some of us from sitting in the chair. That's exactly when you do need to sit.
Expect to feel that everyone around you is moving faster than you are. If you're in workshops, expect to be envious of some of the other stories you see, the stories whose authors make "it" look easy. Trust me -- it's not easy for anyone. Cocky geniuses aside, most writers feel doubts as they write. It's part of the game. You're in really good company.
You should also recognize that these reactions are necessary, and healthy, rites of passage for every story you begin. There's another blog entry here that talks about the concept of apprenticeship in writing, and it's a concept worth embracing. How you advance your apprenticeship is by getting your ideas on paper and revising your work.
An early draft is just the gravel-strewn beginning of the road. By definition, many parts of it won't be very good. If you stop there, you're bound to feel frustrated and full of self doubt. If you stop there, you'll never have to face the blank page again. If you read your draft story or chapter or scene the next day with disappointment, it is exactly that disappointment that can propel you forward and make the story better. But you have to push past your own negativity.
Revision is where most real writing gets done, where the real work is accomplished. If you don't work at it, your apprenticeship will falter -- not what you want if you're serious about becoming the best writer you can be.
The good news? The more words you put to paper, the better and more efficient you get at it. So sit down and start counting.
A few suggestions / exercises:
1) Make notes of the things about your draft work that bother you (or that seemed to bother others in workshop). Get them out of your head so they can be assessed and resolved objectively, and with a proper focus.
2) Take 15 minutes and rewrite a short scene, a conversation, or a detailed description from your story. Short intervals -- speed-writing -- can focus you in ways that you may not expect. Stop, take another 15 minutes, and rewrite what you just wrote. See if you can identify the improvements you made between the original and the last.
3) Take a scene or chapter and switch the point of view to that of another character. This gives you additional insight into the characters and their motivations. Details are different in different perspectives.
4) Assess your opening 2-3 paragraphs. Ask yourself what key pieces of information are most important to convey to your reader in this space. Spending ten minutes on each, write three different openings to your story using different points of view, different settings, different opening facts or impressions. Of the three, which feels the most true to your story?
5) Talk about your story's sticking points with a trusted buddy who will just listen. Articulating your difficulty with a particular passage, action, or character kicks in a different set of analytical abilities and can provide the juice that compels you to get back to your chair.
Here's a link to a wonderful 1992 interview with playwright Edward Albee. When you get to the part where he says he does a lot of revision before writing things down, just remember that, in the end, he wrote things down -- and still referred to the product as a "first draft."
http://bombsite.com/issues/38/articles/1522
While it's good to organize yourself and have an idea of what you want your story to accomplish, the belief that you will get the plot, characters, and/or dialogue perfectly aligned in your head before you set words to paper is just wishful thinking. If you believe you can do this, chances are pretty good that you will rarely actually sit down to write.
Not saying it's impossible -- somewhere there's a literary genius or two doing exactly that -- it's just highly unlikely for mere mortals. No matter what parents or teachers tell you, most of us find out that we're not geniuses who can consistently produce literary pearls within ten minutes of waking every afternoon.
Here's why:
Change and improvement come with the doing. It's likes a curse. The minute you start writing, your story starts to rearrange itself and make mincemeat of all the plans you had for it. Characters don't seem as wonderfully giddy or deliciously evil as you imagined. In fact, they often resist what you want them to do. They needle you with other ideas about where the story might go or what might happen. Your protagonist might as well be cardboard for how boring she is on the page. Actions don't seem natural. The plot has inconsistencies. Dialogue sounds as if it came from a seventh grade playbook.
Ego may be a culprit here. You have preconceived notions and exclusively want to control your story's action. Strangely, when you start to write, the words don't feel right. The story wants to go one way, and you stubbornly want to keep it constrained. When the ideas seem to change of their own accord without your direction, you might feel you're in unacceptable and unsafe territory. You're better than that. The idea must be flawed. It's not ready for paper, so you decide you need to think about it a little more.
As long as you keep your story in your head, it will never be full formed. It will never be subject to objective criticism. It never changes, never deepens, never gets any better. It will always be perfect, just the way it is.
It will never be read.
I think a writer has to maintain a little humility about the writing process. Revision -- changing things you thought you could rely on -- is a very large part of that process. There are no shortcuts. New ideas and changes occur to you as you write because somewhere deep in your brain, your instinct is telling you to consider other possibilities. These instincts are worth your attention.
Expect to be disappointed in your writing sometimes. Expect to feel that on some days, your writing is just crappy. On some days, it will be. The exaggerated anticipation of these fears can cause the so-called "block" that prevents some of us from sitting in the chair. That's exactly when you do need to sit.
Expect to feel that everyone around you is moving faster than you are. If you're in workshops, expect to be envious of some of the other stories you see, the stories whose authors make "it" look easy. Trust me -- it's not easy for anyone. Cocky geniuses aside, most writers feel doubts as they write. It's part of the game. You're in really good company.
You should also recognize that these reactions are necessary, and healthy, rites of passage for every story you begin. There's another blog entry here that talks about the concept of apprenticeship in writing, and it's a concept worth embracing. How you advance your apprenticeship is by getting your ideas on paper and revising your work.
An early draft is just the gravel-strewn beginning of the road. By definition, many parts of it won't be very good. If you stop there, you're bound to feel frustrated and full of self doubt. If you stop there, you'll never have to face the blank page again. If you read your draft story or chapter or scene the next day with disappointment, it is exactly that disappointment that can propel you forward and make the story better. But you have to push past your own negativity.
Revision is where most real writing gets done, where the real work is accomplished. If you don't work at it, your apprenticeship will falter -- not what you want if you're serious about becoming the best writer you can be.
The good news? The more words you put to paper, the better and more efficient you get at it. So sit down and start counting.
A few suggestions / exercises:
1) Make notes of the things about your draft work that bother you (or that seemed to bother others in workshop). Get them out of your head so they can be assessed and resolved objectively, and with a proper focus.
2) Take 15 minutes and rewrite a short scene, a conversation, or a detailed description from your story. Short intervals -- speed-writing -- can focus you in ways that you may not expect. Stop, take another 15 minutes, and rewrite what you just wrote. See if you can identify the improvements you made between the original and the last.
3) Take a scene or chapter and switch the point of view to that of another character. This gives you additional insight into the characters and their motivations. Details are different in different perspectives.
4) Assess your opening 2-3 paragraphs. Ask yourself what key pieces of information are most important to convey to your reader in this space. Spending ten minutes on each, write three different openings to your story using different points of view, different settings, different opening facts or impressions. Of the three, which feels the most true to your story?
5) Talk about your story's sticking points with a trusted buddy who will just listen. Articulating your difficulty with a particular passage, action, or character kicks in a different set of analytical abilities and can provide the juice that compels you to get back to your chair.
Here's a link to a wonderful 1992 interview with playwright Edward Albee. When you get to the part where he says he does a lot of revision before writing things down, just remember that, in the end, he wrote things down -- and still referred to the product as a "first draft."
http://bombsite.com/issues/38/articles/1522

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