Recently, people who are called “clever” adorn themselves with superficial wisdom and only deceive others. For this reason they are inferior to dull-wilted folk. A dull- wilted person is direct. If one looks deeply into his heart with the above phrase, there will be no hidden places. It is a good examiner. One should be of the mind that, meeting this examiner, he will not be embarrassed.
- Hagakure
Oh, oh, oh dancing with myself
Oh, oh, oh dancing with myself
Well there’s nothing to lose
And there’s nothing to prove
And I’m dancing with myself…
- Billy Idol
Let’s talk about writing as a process. We all have our own fantasies about this and I’d bet that most of them are similar. Oh, how wondrous it would be if we could all just get away for a few months at that cabin by the lake, free from our responsibilities and daily distractions and just write. Wake up with the dawn, brew some coffee, open up the windows and knock out a few chapters before lunchtime.
A lot of writing workshops love to portray themselves as providers of such ideal settings but you and I both know that the vast majority of writing doesn’t happen like that. Hell, when I go to the lake, what I want to do is swim around, hike and fish. The last thing I want to do is keep myself cooped up inside with my thoughts as my only company.
We all have our own process, and that’s fine. Please don’t interpret this description as my telling you that “this is the Way to Write.” Your Way is not my own, nor is my Way yours. But there are some general concepts I’d like to share that I think we should all keep in mind.
A few authors have told me that you can’t teach anyone how to write. And you know what, it’s true. Fear not, however, it’s not as elitist as it sounds.
Here, try this: go into your room when no one else is around and close the door. Walk over to your computer and turn on your favorite song. Turn the volume way up. Now get up and dance to it. C’mon, just do it, I know you know how. Just get up and dance.
There you go.
Everybody knows how to dance. But not everybody can salsa, right? So what if you want to learn? Perhaps you’d take a class. In the class I’m sure the instructor would go over some of the common steps, rhythms and movements involved.
But mind you, the instructor is teaching you the steps. She is not teaching you how to dance. You know how to do that already. “Dancing” is not some mechanical process where you raise your right arm to about here, swing your hips slightly and turn halfway, etc. The class exists to help you incorporate new knowledge and forms into your self expression.
Same thing with writing. You can study up on the various styles, themes and genres but nobody can teach you how to “write,” you just sit down and do it. Does your writing get better with practice and education? Of course. Your tools get sharper and more versatile the more they’re used but you already have them on hand. If you can form complete sentences and carry on a conversation, you have the basics covered. You just need to refine them.
So then, how do I write? Well, it ain’t in some cabin in the woods. It often starts when I’m standing on the metro, riding home from work, sweaty and surrounded by strangers. My brain is tired from the day’s monotony, so I’ll close my eyes and let my imagination run around and play for awhile. In that hour-long ride, ideas will come. (I love this part of the process, by the way. Getting hit with a good idea feels like my imagination walked over and gave me a big, wet sloppy kiss on the mouth.)
I’ll try to unearth that idea as best I can but I don’t use my brain, I use my feelings. What feels right for the story? I write down jumbled phrases and ideas in a notebook I keep with me and when I can’t think of anything else, I set it aside. I let the idea brew for a little while, usually a couple of days. Then, at that right moment when the idea is developed but not yet stale, that’s when I start to write.
I either write at work or while I’m at home. They are both familiar, cozy enough places for me where I can relax and focus on the job at hand. I’m sure you have similar environs you like to use. Some people like to write on their laptops in coffee shops and bakeries, but I’d caution you against that. (It’s my suspicion that these people aren’t as interested in writing as they are having people watch them write, but I can’t substantiate that claim. It’s just a feeling.)
When you’re taking an idea and putting it down on paper, you need to have the right mindset. What’s the right mindset? Well, how did you feel when you got up to dance? Pretty comfortable with yourself, right? Happy, having a good time? Also focused on the music, aware and alert?
When you sit down to write, you better be ready to dance with your imagination. Throw out any and all distractions and leave your self doubt at the door. You need to be confident and comfortable with yourself and what you’re doing. That’s a big one. Don’t forget to check that. Also, have fun but take it seriously. Write honestly, write openly, write well.
I usually knock out a page or so before I go back and read what I’ve written. I don’t obsess about every minute detail of the story or my word choice, but I do try to iron things out as best I can before I get too far in. Once my first draft is done, I let the story sit for a day. I let it dissipate from my mind so that when I pick it up the next day, it’s more fresh and new to me.
When I read my first draft over for draft two, I polish it up as much as possible. Those little extras get buffed in, and I try to expose as much magic from the story as I can. Once I think it’s ready, I send it to one of three or four people I’ve chosen to read over my stuff.
This is an important part of the process that I think gets neglected. If you take your writing seriously, you need third party input. You need fresh eyes. You’re never going to see the story as someone else would, no matter how much you work at it.
Make sure you pick the right person for this job. You need to find someone who:
- Would get what it is you’re trying to do. If you like to write slice-of-life lit stories, don’t hand your work over to a Hemingway-hating Manga reader, no matter what he got in creative writing.
- Is not going to blow smoke up your ass. You’re not giving this person your story so you can feel good about yourself, you’re giving it to them because it has flaws (yes it does, no story is perfect), and you want their help in finding them.
- Is able to articulate the issues they find with it. “I didn’t much like it” is not a helpful criticism. If they can at least say, “the dialogue sounded weird to me” or “it got boring here at this part,” that might be enough to get you started.
When you do find a suitable reader, however, I would caution you. You are no longer in your room, dancing with yourself. You’re back in that salsa class, listening to the instructor. Sure you know how to dance already, but now you’re looking to improve your steps. Be objective. This can be a very difficult thing to do but third party input is worthless without it. Do your best to take their suggestions at face value. For every criticism they offer, say to yourself, “what is this? Is this true or not true? What is the evidence?” Then decide for yourself what you’re going to do with their opinions. And then revise the story accordingly in draft three.
After draft three, I set my story aside for over a month. I forget about it and move on to other projects. I pick it up after I no longer recognize the work as my own, and I read it a final time. After I make the final revisions in draft four, I send it out.
That’s about all there is to it. You might have a very similar system, you might be in the process of developing your own or you might even be one of those jerks who write on laptops in coffee shops. It’s all up to you but remember, dancing isn’t about a series of mechanical steps, it’s about expressing yourself. Writing isn’t about using correct grammar and diction, it’s about magic. Respect that part of the process and the rest will take care of itself.
