Howling at the Shadows

I’ve been staring at my outline for about two weeks now. The first couple of chapters have been roughly detailed, but past there I’m not sure how I want to continue. And it’s not that I don’t have an idea of where I want the story to go – I have a beginning, a middle, and an end already plotted. It’s all the fiddly bits in between that I’m unsure of.

I never used to outline my writing. I let it take me where it wanted to go. In the past this has worked quite well, but too often it can lead to unassailable blocks. You can’t write very easily if you don’t even know what the story is trying to tell you. Too many projects have been left behind in the dust due to poor planning.

And yet, there is something to be said for letting the natural flow of a story surprise you. I don’t think there is a writer out there who has not been taken off guard by an aspect of their own plot line (or character) that they didn’t plan. It just shows up sometimes. The subconscious slips the connections in there while you’re too busy stressing over a single section of dialogue. These organic developments, like thieves in the night, tend to creep in and seed the story with bits and pieces that the writer will suddenly connect down the road with a cry of “Eureka!”

One of the most satisfying parts of writing is impressing ourselves with our own genius, is it not?

But – in order to get to that point – we often have to power through some very tough and lean times. Daniel Swensen calls it “Writing through the Wolf’s Hour.” According to his very practical post on setting goals and charging through them, we writers have been fed a lie through media and through the glorified legends of our idol writers that we have to chug out perfection on the first draft.

Speaking from experience, there is no faster way to doom yourself to failure than to allow yourself to believe that anything short of perfection is not worth pursuing.

We should always strive for the best creation we can possibly put together. Editing, proofing, proper formatting, and draft after draft after painful draft will always lead to a better experience for both the writer and the reader. But to expect that you can create something that will rise above all those behind-the-scenes hours the first time around not only discredits the work of editors and beta readers, but also snivels the joy right out of the writing process. Of course you’re going to get blocked if you paralyze yourself into interrogating each word and phrase before you give yourself the chance to write them.  

“Either give yourself permission to suck and finish what you started, or expect perfection the first time around and invite crushing failure.”

Imagine if a doctor held up a just-delivered baby, still squirming and screaming, and asked, “Well? What’s next? What are you going to do with yourself now? Prove your worth!”

Don’t you think someone in the room might be a touch cross? They might say, “It’s a bit early for that, doctor. He can’t even roll over yet. He has a lot of growing to do.”

Just so with your story: don’t expect perfection of it when it’s just started, still squirming and screaming and messy. The only way to let it grow is to be patient and work with it over time.

There are lots of little demons along the way that will try to get you to scare yourself into giving up before the story has a chance to be finished. Mine personally are already questioning why I haven’t made any progress on my outline in two weeks. There are lots of reasons: busyness, too many projects, a new computer, a death in the family, sheer exhaustion. I basically need a vacation.

But I think one of the bigger reasons is that I need to step back from the outline and stop trying to grasp the big picture all at once. After all, I’m a writer. What I need to do is pick up where my last section left off and just start writing. Maybe I’ll get to the end of those first two planned chapters with a better idea of where to go. And then I can outline a little bit more, write a bit more, outline, write, outline, etc. Until the story is (*gasp*) finished.

“The Plot Police aren’t going to show up to your house and start marking down your mistakes in the Book of Life.”

We’re allowed to screw up. We’re allowed to make bad plot choices. We’re allowed to be vague when we describe our characters.

That’s called the writing process (you know – that thing we’re supposed to enjoy as writers?). After all, no journey is without its imperfections. That’s usually what makes the adventure so exciting! And if you find yourself getting bogged down in the never-ending tally of things you need to go back and fix, just remember – that’s part of the process too.

So when those little demons start growling over your shoulder about all the things you’ve done wrong, masquerading as your muses when they’re really just perfectionism pretending to be useful, snarl right back at the shadows and keep going. It’s not going to kill you to leave something for later. Instead, try to look forward to your second draft. That’s when you can allow yourself to be picky. That’s when the real crafting begins.

One Man’s Technique is another Man’s Torture

People make all kinds of unnecessary, throw-away comments that stick with us throughout our lives. Some are easy to forget, and some of them we carry around for years, maybe even subconsciously, until they come back in full fury to harass us over and over again. Usually late at night. Lying awake in the dark. Alone.

One of the most damaging remarks ever made to me professionally happened over lunch during an informational interview. I was deeply immersed in my post-graduate job hunt and was also quickly becoming disenchanted with the mythically “valuable” practice of talking to people who pretend to know what you need to do to get a job. But, sitting in a quirky airport restaurant, eating one of the tastiest salads of my life, I was beginning to enjoy myself. That is, until the marketing guru I was speaking with asked me,

“Do you write every day?”

I answered honestly: no, I don’t. At that time in my life I didn't really have the time to—he quickly interrupted my next sentence with one of the most damning phrases I've ever heard directed at me.

“Can you really call yourself a writer, then?”

I was, understandably, flabbergasted. That he could so confidently cast doubt on my identification as a writer simply based on the fact that I did not sit down every day with the strict purpose of writing creatively was beyond my grasp. I stuttered through a response and put it under my hat, as it were, until I was safely driving away from the restaurant.

First I was depressed (maybe he’s right?) and then I was angry (of course he’s not right, the jerk!!). I oscillated between the two frequently, and even though I no longer place any weight with what he said, it bothered me for a long time.  

There are many, many wise people in the world who say that writing every day is important. If you read enough essays from well-established authors, you will find that many of them embrace this technique and laud it as a successful way to build your career.

But, for those of us who just cannot make such a commitment as writing every day, the assertion that the only real writers are those who make a daily effort is both discouraging and counterproductive.

Professional writers would be expected to write every day. If you wake up in the morning and the only thing on your plate is to sit down and write and that’s the way you make your living, then by golly you had better write every day!

Nevertheless, there is no rule book in the world of writing that says you have to write every day to be accomplished. Frankly there’s no rule that says you have to write every day just to be published. And if you spend most of the hours of your day as it is doing something other than writing, it can be extremely hard to set down the time on a consistent basis to put pen to paper.

The failure to do so can then be a burden on your motivation. And round and round we go.

I will say it a hundred times on this blog that there is no one way to write well. Everyone has their own techniques, their own methods of discipline and reward. If you find that you write best when you’re hanging upside down and dictating to a computer program at three in the morning, then no one can tell you you’re doing it wrong. Do what gets you the results you want!

If that means writing every day, great. If that means writing as much as you can, sometimes even only a couple times a week, awesome. The point is, after all, to write, not agonize about what Billy-Bob in the desk next to you is doing. You shouldn't care that his picture book is all colored carefully inside the lines if what you really like doing is scribbling modernist geometric shapes in yours.

Bad analogy.

If you want to read further into the concrete reasons why pushing yourself to write every day might be a really bad technique, take a look at “‘Write Every Day’ is Bad Advice: Hacking the Psychology of Big Projects” from the Cal Newport Study Hacks Blog. While ‘every day’ may be a soul-crushing schedule to keep, it doesn't mean you can’t find more manageable goals to work towards. Just find the routine that suits your needs.

It’s then up to you to stick to it!