So when new writers ask me for advice, one of things I invariably say is, “Don’t be afraid to write shit.” Because the hardest part of writing, surely, is the actual writing itself. Plotting is fun. Finding story ideas is fun. Getting all these amazing ideas from the swirly confines of my mushy grey brains onto a page where they can then be absorbed into your mushy grey brains? Fuck. That’s like …some difficult thing that’s so difficult that my mushy grey brains could not even find a proper metaphor for it.
Relax, I say to new writers. It’s natural to write things that are Not Very Good. The task of writing shit is essential. Nobody sits down to write and crafts beautiful, perfect sentences from the get-go. Well, a few people certainly do, but we don’t like them very much and never invite them to our dinner parties.
Now here’s my confession: I am terrified of writing shit. (Well, shit that I am aware of, at any rate.)
I don’t know how it started. I do know that for the past ten years (at least!) my process has consisted of the following steps:
- think of a sentence
- mull it over and over in my stupid brain
- put it down on the page
- delete if i don’t like it
- write it again, fully formed and nearly perfect
- repeat for the next sentence
This is also known as the most tedious method of writing known to man. I have been known to spend hours on a few hundred words, or, even worse, spend days staring at a blank page just thinking about the right sentences.
I’ve gotten a bit better about it only in this past year, and only marginally so. The idea of imperfect sentences makes me cringe. (“Perfect” being, of course, subjective, as I am far from that and there is always room to improve.) I get nauseous looking at my imperfections; sometimes it feels as if an audience comprised of all my old teachers were staring over my shoulder as I wrote, tsk’ing over each one. (“Honestly, Michi, describe the erection. What does it feel like? Show, don’t tell! Have I taught you nothing?”)
Which brings us to my goal for this month. Stop being afraid to write shit. Quantity over quality. Write now, edit later. I’ll be posting every single day, hopefully (and if I can’t, I must make up for it). If it’s really shitty, it’ll be under a cut.
It’s November, bitches. Let’s get some shit done.
It’s like Michi is describing me.
God, I hate it. I want to just be able to throw the most vulgar crap out there on the page and say, “Fuck it, I’ll fix it later.”
But no such luck so far. ONE DAY.
(No way in frozen blue hell am I doing NaNo, though. I’ll cheerlead from the side. GO FORTH AND WRITE THINGS FOR ME TO LOVE.)