Thursday, November 15, 2007

Writers don't write.

Writers don't write, they re-write, according to author Patrick Picciarelli. I read this today on the Web and was immediately struck by the pithy truth of the statement.

When I write my first draft--although I have an outline in my head of what is going to happen, and eventually have a written outline when I'm sure that what's in my head is actually how the story is turning out--I am often unsure of many of the details that will add depth to the story and its characters. Rather than slowing down writing by stopping to research these tidbits, I find I have to plow ahead or risk losing momentum.

These little details niggle at me so vociferously, and there are so many of them by the middle of the novel, that I find writing the second half of a project agonizing. My mind begins to be filled with worry about the quality of the story and a hunger to edit. I want to color in the story, give it life and begin to worry that I never will.

When I begin to edit everything becomes sharper. The story becomes tighter and the characters and their world more real. While I have in-depth ideas about the world and these characters the details don't necessarily make it into the first draft, or they don't make it into the first draft in such a way that someone other than myself can see them clearly.

I like to think of my first draft as an outline that needs to be colored in later on. Waiting for that stage is difficult for me--I want my creations to live from the moment I put them on the page. I used to edit each line as I wrote it, perfecting the words and the story as I went. However, I found that stories I wrote this way often didn't get completed. I would run out of steam after a hundred pages or less. Writing the first draft quickly is difficult for me, but in the long run it pays off...as long as I edit it in the end.

For me, editing is the best, not the hardest part of writing. It's wrestling the skeleton of the story to the ground and ignoring my internal editor that makes me sweat. I've come to recognize this internal tug of war as part of my process. Sometimes I have to put a work away for several days or even a week or more to calm the voice which says "Must edit now!" before I can go on. This wasn't something I came to the page knowing; it was something I learned through trial and error over time.

If you find that your internal editor is either too silent or too shrill, try adjusting your process. You might not find the right answer right off, but with experience and patience it will come. Until then, enjoy the journey.

2 comments:

Isabel Swift said...

Took a "creativity" seminar many years ago & the leader had a flat-footed, but apt metaphor that seems to align with your experience:

You have your white creative hat. You have your black critical hat. You have one head. The moment you start being critical, you have taken off your creative hat & all creativity has ceased. If you're trying to be creative, keep that white had on. Plenty of time later to put the critical hat on...

Charlotte Forbes said...

Reminds me of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's research on creativity. His book Creativity and Flow examines the conditions under which the creative state can be obtained, as well as the true defnition of creativity.

He believes that previous discoveries, experience, predisposition, and environment all play a role in allowing an individual to enter the creative state.

It's when all of these key elements are present that someone can enter into a state of "flow" (become unaware of space, time, or even where their ideas are coming from) where they can ignore their internal critic.

I bought his book because I heard a short piece on NPR that mentioned his work. When I heard the word "flow" in the context of creativity I had an "aha!" moment and wanted to know more about his research on that delicous other-worldly state.

I guess you could say his work is all about finding your creative milliner for that perfect white hat fit!