What Are You Afraid of?

What keeps you from writing? I used to say, “Dishes.” Then, I bought a dishwasher and realized dirty pots and pans weren’t the problem. There are a variety of excuses for not writing regularly. However, there are two fears that result in certain death for any writing project: fear of a horrible first draft and fear of revision. I struggle with both.

Nothing keeps me from my writing desk more than my fear of a terribly written first draft. I don’t feel inspired today. The words aren’t flowing. What if I die in my sleep and someone reads this? What if this is all I’m capable of — really atrocious writing? The likelihood of a horrible first draft (most writers have them) keeps me from beginning to write and from continuing to write. Despite what I know in my head, my heart doesn’t want me to write unless it’s brilliant. But, that’s not what a first draft is. Draft means preliminary. Preliminary means done in preparation for something fuller or more important. 

You may find yourself procrastinating, finding other activities to keep you busy. Maybe you are writing advice columns on manuscript mortality. Are you waiting for revelation? While inspiration may lead to your greatest work, in the meantime, you need to keep your writing muscles in shape. I’ve heard it said that to succeed you must do the task required whether you feel like it or not. Most days, this is easier said than done. We live in a “what do I feel like doing?” culture. I’m not ignorant of the enormity of what I’m asking you to do. But, here it is: sit down each day and write. Take out your writing project. Review your previous day’s work. Then, write more — and more and more and more. It doesn’t have to be perfect. A first draft is just that: a first draft. Some of the writing will be stellar. Some of it will be garbage. Later, we will edit. Now, we write.

Often, I get stuck on a paragraph, sentence, or word that isn’t working. Perhaps I’m having a bad day or just recognizing the shortcomings of my writing skills. And, because I cannot produce the right word or phrase, I sit at my desk doing my best Silas Marner impersonation. Although no one’s questioning his good character, Silas Marner was, perhaps, not the most productive person. With this in mind, I’ve combatted those “stuck” moments by writing the sentence or phrase badly and then highlighting that bit of text in bold. The bolded text is my acknowledgment that the writing is shite, but I’ll come back and fix it later.

The bigger the project, the more difficult it can be to begin. If the assignment is daunting, break it into smaller chunks. “Today, I will begin chapter one” sounds immeasurably less threatening than “today, I will begin my novel.” Once you’ve begun, don’t stop. Set a goal for what you want to achieve each day and each week. You can have small goals; just start writing.

Okay, let’s talk about “later.” The second deadly fear is of changing (editing) your finished composition. The first draft was a lot of work. Hard work. Maybe, really good work. But, it could be more than good. With careful revision, it could be great.

After you’ve celebrated the completion of your first draft, you may want to set your written piece aside for a few days. Many successful authors practice this short (or long) period of separation. Step away from the project. Regain some measure of objectivity. Muster the courage to attack your writing with an editor’s eye for rubbish. 

Once you’ve picked up your red pen, you will be reading your work and striving to make it better. For example, if you’ve written a first draft of a novel, do you need to cut an event or character? Change a timeline? Flesh out a relationship? Rewrite the ending? Our fearful self will be hesitant to alter what we may view as our best work to date, but resist this voice of first-draft-only-draft idealism. Save a copy of your first draft for peace of mind. Then, begin editing the duplicate copy. This is your second draft. Be brutal! You can always revisit your first draft, but for now, have the courage to cut or add, rearrange, revise, and rewrite. As your composition evolves, the magnitude of your changes will likely decrease, but the process (as you graduate through draft two and three) will remain the same. Set your writing aside. Return to it with a semblance of objectivity. Be brave, and make the necessary changes to achieve greatness.

Lastly, don’t let your project become a Mona Lisa — never finished. There comes a point when your tweaking is complete and (as my high school English teacher counselled me) it’s good enough. (I think she was fed up with my essays being handed in late. She gave me a set of flash cards at graduation that read, “It’s good enough.”) Yes, we’re striving for greatness, but there’s a balance. Recognize greatness in the context of your past work, your goals for this specific project, your level of effort, and your satisfaction with the piece. Personally, I know I’ve finished when the draft (fourth? fifth?) I’m working on consists of changes to punctuation only or I’m switching sentences back and forth without a clear sense of improvement. At that point, it may not be the best essay in my portfolio, but it is the best that particular work will be with me as its author and at this stage in my growth as a writer. Time to publish (yes, that’s the third deadly fear) and share your work with others.