I sometimes think my current book…is going to eat me whole.
Yesterday I got a whole paragraph revised – a whole paragraph.
I’m in the “forest for the trees” part of revising – tinkering and tweaking and searching for that exact phrase – where sentence-by-sentence, paragraph-by-paragraph, it can be easy to lose track of the bigger picture : that at least one paragraph down, is one less to go.
It’s creative, but it’s still just work…just chopping wood.
A few days ago I was listening to a podcast where someone stated that he had finished 30,000 words of a book, but just couldn’t bring himself to complete it because he knew it “would never be up to his own standards.” This is an interesting statement for a couple of reasons, not the least of which is because what I think he was really trying to say was: “wow, this shit is a whole lot harder than it looks.”
So hard, it’s easier just to not do it all.
And it is hard. But it’s damn near impossible if you don’t force yourself to keep going. Your work is never going to meet your standards, or anyone’s, if you never get it done. If there’s one thing that has changed my entire approach to writing it’s been the understanding that when all is said and done, it really is a matter of effort, not simply talent. and you can’t give up when the work meets the reality – when the work gets hard, when you’re striving to be good. Good or bad, no matter what your standard, the words don’t write themselves. And on some days sentences won’t gel, paragraphs will fall apart, and entire stories go up in flames in front of you – but if you don’t keep at it, you’ll never get through it, and you’ll absolutely, 100% guaranteed, never get better.
The other part of this? Nothing I write is ever quite up to “my standards.” It never gets from my head to page perfectly, it always has flaws, rough edges, hairline cracks. That’s part of the process too, the polishing and revising and agonizing that has to occur to at least get in the ballpark of the perfection those words had in my head.
Some days, it’s just chopping wood, but it’s necessary – there’s no other way it can be done…and that’s why I spent all of my writing time yesterday on one paragraph
Yes, but consider this- you spent four+ hours in a car crossing two states to spend more hours with your girls, and then a few more hours with your old work buddies, and then even more hours talking to me. You’re lamenting only one paragraph, but it is, frankly, a miracle you even did that. I know you’re grinding right now. I know inertia can be wonderful, horrible thing. I get that. It is okay, however, to give yourself a break on occasion, my friend.