DEAR ABIGAIL:
Can I ask some advice? When you are writing, say a first draft, do you find yourself wanting to edit before the words are even down on the page? I feel like I really struggle with a kind of ocd-perfectionism-control issue that causes a lot of unnecessary stress and waste of time, my mind writing and editing simultaneously so that I lose focus on that which I’m writing about.
The words, the act of writing, get in the way of the fictional world I’m writing about, so that I can’t put down the words without thinking about whether those words are “right” or not. And the paradox is I know that the words are closet to being right when you are not thinking about them but about the content… yet it is a habit of my mind that is not easily diverted… Any advice?
Your friend in Seattle.
DEAR FRIEND IN SEATTLE:
I totally get your edit-and-write simul-mode. Isn’t that how you’d say it in your century? That used to be me. Consider conducting a little experiment. Give yourself a week. Promise yourself you’ll stick to it. And stick to it.
The experiment is to practice not editing, but it’s hard to tell yourself not to edit. It’s even embarrassing to some to leave a flaw anywhere on the page, but NO ONE IS READING THIS BUT YOU until you are ready to share, so give yourself permission to ignore all errata at least for the duration of the experiment. Need help with this? Read on.
For one whole week tell yourself, “I’m going to do Abigail’s little experiment. It only lasts a week. I can do anything for seven days, can’t I?” And when it’s over, I don’t ever have to do it again.
Do this: Get a spiral notebook, college ruled, and label it, “UNEDITED CRAP.” (Oh crap. I said “crap.”) If you don’t have a spiral notebook, use any lined paper or use one of those contraptions with the thing you call a keyboard but which to me does not contain the beauty and grace of the ebony and ivory of a pianoforte’s keyboard). How you write doesn’t matter a whit.
Then every day, for twenty to thirty minutes, you decide, set an egg timer (worth you buying one and putting it on your desk), and write.
The rules are:
- You cannot reread, you cannot stop, until the timer goes off.
- Go fast, fast, fast. The idea is to cover as many sheets of paper as you can.
- GET OUT OF YOUR OWN WAY. Remember this isn’t about you, what you write, if you’re good, or if you’re a piece of shit, it’s about you putting words on paper for seven days within a time limit. Period. Without rereading or editing.
- Do not stop. Did I say this? If you can’t think of anything to say, scribble or type “I can’t think of anything to say” over and over until you think of something to say.
- DO NOT STOP AND READ WHAT YOU’VE WRITTEN. THIS WILL INVALIDATE THAT ENTRY IN THE EXPERIMENT. YOU MIGHT CONSIDER COMING BACK AND TRYING AGAIN IN A COUPLE HOURS ON THE SAME DAY.
- If you find yourself resisting, resist the resistance. Just go do it and do it every day for seven days.
- THINK AS LITTLE AS YOU CAN. THIS SHOULD BE VISCERAL.
- Let your stories come out and if you don’t know where to take the story next, then type, “where do I take this story next? Who is this character? What did he eat for breakfast”and then just go again. It would be okay to have a short list of questions written in the inside cover of the notebook or on an index card by the computer you could glance at if you get stuck. This kind of stuck is not about did you say it right, but what do I say next? Caution: I used the words “glance at the list.” That doesn’t mean read the list, consider the list in a leisurely fashion, think about the list. The timer is ticking away. When I say “glance,” I mean “glance and GO!”
- DO NOT THINK about thinking.
At the end of the week, go back through your document and see what’s there. Remember how you called it “UNEDITED CRAP?”
That’s the good part because you don’t expect much, do you? So when you see that much of what you’ve written is pretty good, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. And guess what? Now you can edit.
