“Writers read literary biography, and surround themselves with other writers, deliberately to enforce in themselves the ludicrous notion that a reasonable option for occupying yourself on the planet until your life span plays itself out is sitting in a small room for the duration, in the company of pieces of paper.” The Writing Life, Annie Dillard
I read a lot of what other writers say about writing and the writing process. Sometimes, I feel like I’m reading a lot of self-help books, like I don’t quite know how to do the writing life and so I’m looking for comfort or solace in others who have experienced things similar to the things that I feel. I mean, I’m no published author, but I have spent a good deal of my life writing; always carrying a notebook, always reading, always writing ideas I didn’t want to forget on my hands, always scribbling. Is this what it means to live a writing life, simply to write, to write often, to hold yourself accountable to your work?
“The first draft is the child’s draft, where you let it all pour out and then let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see if and that you can shape it later. You just let this childlike part of you channel whatever voices and visions come through and onto the page. … Just get it all down on paper, because there may be something great in those six crazy pages that you would never have gotten to by more rational, grown-up means. … Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere.” Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott
The first draft I am currently working on has feelings. A lot of trying to get the feel of things right, or close, or trying to remember what I was feeling or trying to remember the why – the why behind the feelings. I feel, somehow, like I am writing around the meat of the story, writing past the big moments, in favor of trying to get at the feelings. Big moments can come second, since they are the things that I know must happen anyway.
“The first [benefit] is: you use more of your brain. You calm down. You enter a space that is much like when you speak extemporaneously and the knowledge in your brain transforms as you talk. Most of us who’ve taught have had this experience – answering a question, pursuing a topic in discussion, you find yourself learning about what you already know in some new way as you say it. … Also, typing something on a computer makes it look book-like right away. That’s not always to our best advantage as writers. Drafting by hand, I give myself the permission to be messy.” “How to Write a Novel,” Alexander Chee
Writing by hand is calming. It is messy, but also it is organized. It is slower and less calculated. When I write by hand, I can write anything. It is not formal. It is not supposed to be perfect. It does not appear to be a final draft or an attempt at a final draft. It is intimate. I write almost everything by hand the first time, then I type it up. Then I print it out and make revisions by hand. This is my process. Recently, while I have been writing by hand, I’ve stopped repressing ideas, waiting until I finish the first before moving on to the other, often forgetting what the second idea was before I got to writing it down. I skip a line and write down the new thought. It’s a small thing, but it is liberating. And, it keeps the ideas exciting.
“She showed up for work and wrote.” -Michael Hennessy, my former teacher (or, maybe, Robert McKee)
I learned recently that Isabel Allende begins her novels on the same day every year, January 8. The past year and three months, I have been thinking about routine. I come home from work, I let the dogs out, I feed the dogs, I sit down to write. My goal, a modest one, set a year and four months ago, was to write for 30 minutes everyday, a time limit that seemed doable without a great deal of effort, less effort than the two hours per day that I had tried and failed to reach as a graduate student. I’d always heard that writing at the same time every day trains your brain, helps you get in the habit so that your mind expects to have that time to create. And then, all of a sudden, I felt like I became someone who sat down to produce new words and create new stories instead of someone sitting in front of the computer eating potato chips. This is the other part of the writing life that always felt unattainable, but which I have realized is the most rewarding when I stick to it.
“I write to discover what I know.” Flannery O’Connor
My best friend from college gave me a lovely poster with this quote on it. I look at it and I think to myself that this is exactly how my writing process works. I write, and it is not until I get to the end of the draft that I know exactly what the thing is about. I have an idea, I think I know, at the beginning. But when I get to the end, to the very final page, that’s where the real meaning is, that’s what the story is really about. Without fail it happens like this. The act of writing, creating, helps me to find meaning in the story and in myself.
Alexandra Sladky 