Struggle Less, Write More -- Garbo
One of the things I do is write. It's not the least important thing, and it's not the least important thing.
When I live my most balanced life, I use the same rule for writing that I do with my other activities: If I'm struggling, I'm probably going at the task the wrong way.
I spent a year or two doing work for a contractor, and the guys on the job taught me many lessons, most of them good. (We won't discuss the others here!) One of the most helpful lessons was about fighting with a tool.
If the screw won't go in, if the board isn't getting cut, if the spade isn't turning over the earth, it's time to stop and figure out how to adjust. I've got the wrong tool, the wrong method, or I don't understand how the tool works. It shouldn't be this hard. Time to stop and assess.
Writing is not easy, but it should not be a miserable slog or a soul-depleting struggle.
Three errors I make often, turning my vocation into a chore:
1. Rushing to get the story told. It's not piece work. I'm not going to make any more money or have any more success by pushing the process forward. The story will scan better, make more sense, and need fewer revisions if I take the time to get the character out of a chair, to have them open the door, and then to adjust to the outdoor environment, rather than have someone be insdoors and then suddenly outdoors because that's faster.
2. Not admitting that I'm not happy with the plot, the setting, or the character. Just because I thought I'd try out imagining the life of someone who manages a bowling alley doesn't mean I have to keep dragging myself through it once the novelty has worn out. Unless I'm really, really interested in the history of bowling or bowling makes a great metaphor, it's going to show that I don't really care. And if don't really care, the reader certainly isn't going to.
3. Forcing too many awkward segues. I enjoy putting lots of interesting elements in a tale, but sometimes trying to keep a story line going while fitting together all the pieces doesn't work. Too many jumps forward or backward in time, too much summarizing, or creating improbably meetups or spectacular events are untenable ways to make the plot work. It's like sawing without taking a moment to secure the board and get the saw teeth set at the right angle in the kerf. I'm going to end up with twenty-two pages of nothing worth saving.
There's struggle, and then there's effort. If I'm struggling, I'm not happy. If I'm putting in a good effort, I'm at least somewhat happy.
So when writing, and wanting to produce a good solid piece of work, the best question I can ask myself while working is "Am I happy?" If yes, I'm not struggling And less struggle, for me, means better words and more of them.
Garbo
I spent a year or two doing work for a contractor, and the guys on the job taught me many lessons, most of them good. (We won't discuss the others here!) One of the most helpful lessons was about fighting with a tool.
If the screw won't go in, if the board isn't getting cut, if the spade isn't turning over the earth, it's time to stop and figure out how to adjust. I've got the wrong tool, the wrong method, or I don't understand how the tool works. It shouldn't be this hard. Time to stop and assess.
Writing is not easy, but it should not be a miserable slog or a soul-depleting struggle.
Three errors I make often, turning my vocation into a chore:
1. Rushing to get the story told. It's not piece work. I'm not going to make any more money or have any more success by pushing the process forward. The story will scan better, make more sense, and need fewer revisions if I take the time to get the character out of a chair, to have them open the door, and then to adjust to the outdoor environment, rather than have someone be insdoors and then suddenly outdoors because that's faster.
2. Not admitting that I'm not happy with the plot, the setting, or the character. Just because I thought I'd try out imagining the life of someone who manages a bowling alley doesn't mean I have to keep dragging myself through it once the novelty has worn out. Unless I'm really, really interested in the history of bowling or bowling makes a great metaphor, it's going to show that I don't really care. And if don't really care, the reader certainly isn't going to.
3. Forcing too many awkward segues. I enjoy putting lots of interesting elements in a tale, but sometimes trying to keep a story line going while fitting together all the pieces doesn't work. Too many jumps forward or backward in time, too much summarizing, or creating improbably meetups or spectacular events are untenable ways to make the plot work. It's like sawing without taking a moment to secure the board and get the saw teeth set at the right angle in the kerf. I'm going to end up with twenty-two pages of nothing worth saving.
There's struggle, and then there's effort. If I'm struggling, I'm not happy. If I'm putting in a good effort, I'm at least somewhat happy.
So when writing, and wanting to produce a good solid piece of work, the best question I can ask myself while working is "Am I happy?" If yes, I'm not struggling And less struggle, for me, means better words and more of them.
Thanks for sharing your experience. I'm going to try to put some of these to use. I think it takes me a while to understand that I actually AM struggling, and to quit and try something else for a while.
ReplyDeleteGood advice. I've battered myself against stalled projects, and knowing when to stand back and rethink it is something I've always found slippery.
ReplyDeleteThe 1979-'88 British TV series (Roald Dahl's) TALES OF THE UNEXPECTED (not to be confused with the U.S. series by Quinn Martin), at least the early seasons, include introductions by Dahl himself, where he gave some background on the story they were about to tell, and sometimes spoke briefly about the craft.
ReplyDeleteFor the second one in the series "Mrs. Bixby and The Colonel's Coat", Dahl notes that despite - or perhaps because of - it being a very short story it took him roughly five months to get it right. He reckoned that as something like 600 working hours, in which he "took so many wrong turnings and went up so many blind alleys nearly went crazy." In the previous episode's introduction (for "The Man From the South", which was immediately familiar to me because another adaptation of it had been done roughly two decades earlier for ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS) he noted that he was only able to slowly grind out perhaps two short stories over the course of a year.
( The series is part of Amazon Prime's package for those who have it, btw.)
Thanks, I'm getting right on that. I've been on a Dahl and Ray Bradbury kick.
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