If you’d like to receive my blog in your in-box each week, click here.
Friends, I made a rookie mistake.
Regular readers may remember that for some time now I’ve been talking about a follow-up book to Intuitive Editing that I’ve been working on, a deep dive into character development.
The plan was to have it out last year, but an overcommitment of teaching and speaking engagements meant I had to back-burner it. This year, though, it’s my number one priority, and I’m determined to get it done and on shelves.
That deadline is great for me, and very motivating. But because it has to be a hard stop for several reasons, it also comes with a fair amount of pressure every time I sit down to write.
And yet repeatedly since I came back to this project, I keep writing myself into a corner. I get wrapped around the axle. I start worrying that I’m not digging deep enough or covering specific topics thoroughly enough, and before I know it I’ve gone so far down a rabbit hole that the information feels a little opaque even to me.
Then I get discouraged and begin to doubt my ability to make this book what I want it to be. And then I freeze up, so worried about getting it right that I’m not getting it on the page at all.
Regular readers, again, may recognize this as the very trap I frequently write about not getting caught in, here and here and here and here—and as recently as last week.
So what gives, physician? Why can’t thee heal thyself?
Diagnosing Why Your Writing Stalls
I had diagnosed the symptoms: what was happening in my writing and how it was hindering it. But I still had to dig deeper to figure out the root cause.
The issue wasn’t that I don’t know what I’m talking about—any more than your own issue when you get stuck in your writing is that you don’t have any idea of the story you want to tell. These are concepts I have worked through for years, and I have a full outline, extensive notes, and 30 years of experience editing manuscripts, working through and road-testing the approach and concepts I’m writing about.
For Pete’s sake, I literally just returned from a writer’s conference where I was presenting workshops on these very techniques.
No, the rookie mistake I made was that I kept approaching my writing from the outside in, rather than from the inside out, the latter of which is the guiding principle behind Intuitive Editing and the backbone of all my work—and the central message of the keynote speech I gave at that same writers’ conference recently.
And yet…
I kept worrying about whether I was hitting every question and concern every author might have. Whether I was going into enough detail for the more experienced or trained authors, while not losing newer authors. Whether I was covering every eventuality in enough depth.
I got so worried about the ultimate effect of what I’m working on that I lost touch with my own perspective and what I wanted to say, the impulse that motivated me to want to write this follow-up book in the first place.
I got so worried about the ultimate effect of what I’m working on that I lost touch with my own perspective and what I wanted to say, the impulse that motivated me to want to write this follow-up book in the first place. The writing felt dull and flat, and I wasn’t having any fun doing it.
And, folks, the central tenet for me of this career and frankly most of my life is to find the fun. Not only does that create the intrinsic rewards of anything we do, but it frees you to do them from the most genuine and original place within you.
The reason I kept freezing up was because I wasn’t writing what I believe and wanted to write, but instead was trying to predict what others might want and what I should be writing, or how I should be writing it.
That way lies frustration, dissatisfaction, and a bland rehash of existing theories.
What Makes You Want to Write?
Once I pinpointed the root issue, I was able to devise a course of treatment. I needed to redefine my purpose, to get back in touch with the core of what I want to convey to authors and why.
I started tackling these concepts for the same reason I wanted to write Intuitive Editing, the same motivation that underlies all of my work as an editor and educator: I want to take what can seem convoluted, opaque, or difficult to authors and demystify it. To make telling a good, compelling story in the most effective and impactful way feel understandable, practical, and doable.
Reminding myself of that mission almost instantly put me back on track. I don’t need to worry about whether my work will speak to the Pulitzer winners and MFAs. We have George Saunders for that. 🙂 I just want to tackle common author pain points and give writers insight on how to work through them and get back on track with their writing and storytelling.
And realizing that put me back on track with my own. (Meta, isn’t it?)
This morning I sat down to work through a chapter that has been particularly vexing me and I finally got it down in the way I wanted to—and I had a ball doing it. My writing was looser, freer, and much better.
Once I stopped worrying about how any of it would come across or be received and just focused on what I wanted to say about this particular element of characterization, getting it down on the page was much more effective, and much more fun.
Find the Guiding Light for Your Writing
Most of you are working on narrative storytelling, fiction and narrative nonfiction like memoir, rather than prescriptive nonfiction like my craft book, but these same principles can help when you feel yourself wrapped around the axle of your own writing.
When I work with writers on their manuscripts, the first thing I do is ask them what story they want to tell. What made them want to write this story in the first place? What’s the central nut of it that animates and inspires them? What did they want to share or convey or explore as the heart of their story?
Read more: “Do You Know Your Central Story Question?”
When I work with writers on their manuscripts, the first thing I do is ask them what story they want to tell. What made them want to write this story in the first place?
I ask this because it’s a guide for me as I am working on editing their story to help me help them actualize their vision on the page.
But I also ask it to help clarify writers’ own thinking on the heart of their story, because it’s so easy to get lost in the forest of every other element that goes into creating an effective story. Defining and staying in touch with that central story intention can serve as a beacon, a light to guide them on their journey and get them to their destination.
Often when stories feel as if they’re going off the rails, it’s because the author and the reader have lost sight of that core purpose, just as I did with my character development book.
I encourage you to write this intention down for each story you write, and keep it somewhere you can easily refer to it for those moments. Don’t trust that you will remember it; actually articulate it and commit it to writing.
Don’t worry about making it sound good or marketable. This isn’t your log line or pitch, and it may never even make it overtly onto the page. This is for you. Say it any way you want to, as long as it encompasses that animating spark of inspiration that got you excited about the story in the first place and keeps you coming back to it. Say it in a way that reminds you what the most important kernel of your story is, the throughline that vitalizes it and makes it matter to you.
When you get lost in your WIP, when you lose steam, when you feel overwhelmed or discouraged…well, first take a break. It feels like you should power through the “stuck” in those moments, but that usually just results in digging the hole deeper. Put the shovel down for a minute.
Then go back to that mission statement, that driving purpose that moved you to write the story. Read it, think about it, let that percolate and reinvigorate you.
And then go back clear-eyed and do what you set out to do in the first place.
If you’d like to receive my blog in your in-box each week, click here.
21 Comments. Leave new
I’m not in the rabbit hole, but this article is STILL worth a million bucks! I’m using it as preventive medicine, so I DON’T grab that shovel and dig down to the center of the earth.
LOVE the articles you write, and fingers crossed on the ‘Best Websites’ roundup.
Glad it came along at the right time! Thanks for the comment, Linda–and for the nomination. 🙂
OMG WHAT TIMING!!!! Thank you so much!!!
I have gone adrift and I’ve tried taking a break and then getting all angry with myself and then down – and then *BANG* Here you come along with always the very finest of advice. Thanks once again x
I’m so glad it hit the spot! Thanks, Syl.
I’ve written up tons of notes for my latest novel but in planning the research I’ll need, I got depressed–and bored. I read this column as a break and by writing down WHY I loved the original idea for my book, I realize I probably don’t need all that research. And I can start writing the story without having it all finished anyway. Huge relief! Thanks much.
That’s wonderful to hear–happy writing, and find the fun! 🙂
Thank you for sharing this! I look forward to buying your next book!
Thanks, Susan–I look forward to getting it on the shelves. 🙂
You had me at “when you feel yourself wrapped around the axle of your own writing.” My WIP has ground to a halt like my vacuum cleaner when it inadvertently sucks up a shoelace. Per your excellent advice, I will write down my story’s mission statement and tape it to the corner of my monitor. Also, thanks for sharing your own experience with freezing up. It’s good to know everyone can lose their way. It’s even better to know how to find it again.
Ha! Excellent vacuum-cleaner metaphor–very visual and visceral. 🙂 I’m glad the post was timely–and thanks for the feedback. Sometimes I wonder if it’s more effective to focus just on the topic, not personal stories, but I always hope they’re illustrative, and that it’s helpful, as you say, to see that all writers suffer from the same bugaboos from time to time.
I am forever freezing. It may be my biggest struggle. I know its because I’m always thinking of how I want to be published and have readers love my books. Its not the proper motivation for a beginner, I know. It is a tough thing to work, but I am working on it. There was a time I didn’t what I wanted to write because of it. More and more I’m asking myself what I want to write and do I like this or that for myself. In ways its felt wrong or bad to think about what I like, but I’m on the road to getting there.
Good for you–I think figuring out what we like, what stories we want to tell, is how we free our creativity–and create a writing career we can sustain for the long haul. If we’re always writing from the outside in, it’s so easy to get frozen.
FWIW, it’s been my experience that the thing we call creativity is both fragile and porous. Maybe more so for people who are the most creative among us. Our natural abilities can be tied in knots if we allow doubts to creep into our processes.
It’s natural to want to take an approach of ‘I want to be published so XYZ will happen’. But if our self concept includes doubts about XYZ, then the objective, no matter how valid and realistic and well intended, can become the obstacle. The mental stone that blocks the road. Because when our minds start to churn on ‘I don’t know if XYZ is in the cards for me’ that damn near existential doubt manifests in doubt about every line we type. We’ve given our big life fears an entry into the glorious process of our internal creative acts.
The one thing you know you can do, the one thing that no one but you can do, is tell your stories in your own way.
Oh how I needed to read this. I often forget that writing is supposed to be FUN (not all the time, but certainly more often!). Thank you for your inspiring words!
Glad they hit a chord!
Hi Tiffany,
Very recognizable! Since I no longer concern myself with the EFFECT (you said this so well in one word!), but with the VOICE of my character (which I now know), writing comes naturally. This will probably also be the case with a non-fiction book. A voice, that’s what it’s all about.
I wholeheartedly agree–it’s the main thing that sets each author’s work apart and makes it unique. And frankly one of the most fun parts of writing, to me–certainly in my nonfiction writing. Thanks for the comment, Greet.
Thanks Tiffany! You are a goldmine of solid writing advice and a wonderful person. I’m going to try out applying this to one of my stories that has gone off the rails. Sometimes, outline and all, I guess it happens.
It does, sadly. Part of the joy of writing, right…? 😉 Thanks for the kind comment, Kim.
This is one of the most beneficial and timely posts you’re written. I’m starting the revision of the first draft I completed a bit over a week ago. I overwrite first drafts, my nature and my process, and accept that by the end I’ll have found the story. From there it’s a matter of – to paraphrase Michelangelo’s quote about taking the granite and removing everything that isn’t David – removing all the mess that isn’t my story. Easy for him to say.
For the past four days I’ve scrutinized the manuscript and the choices I made along the way, through the lens of your ideas here. I’d already grasped from a pure left brain analytical standpoint that I had two problematic subplots. Neither served me well. One was pulling my story off track. Maybe its a story in itself, but a story for another day. Like including the wrong friend on a road trip. Maybe come along on a different ride, but not this one. The other amounted to picking up a hitchhiker. Serious mistake. Dealing with it added nothing.
What’s fascinating is that my reflections on my reasons for introducing the the subplots dovetailed perfectly with what you warned about in this post. I felt a need for matters of pacing and scope to introduce them. Some disembodied audience would expect them, or so I told myself. Even as it turned the darn thing into a slog. Or said another way, it drained the fun. The moment I embarked with them I freaking knew I was drifting from the story I set out to tell, but I felt like I needed to create a broader story. And it would all work out in the end.
Charlie Munger, Warren Buffett’s partner who died last week (2023 hasn’t been a good year for people named Buffet) once said ‘it’s not that I have an uncommon number of good ideas, my gift is being able to quickly spot avoid wasting time on bad ideas’. I ain’t Charlie.
In the service of avoiding bad ideas, your words of keeping it fun and keeping it true to why I want to write a particular story in the first place, are golden.
Find the fun. FTF. Or put another way, WTF, Where’s the fun?
Garry, thanks for the kind words–it’s really nice to know when the posts “land” with authors. And I have to thank you as well for your reply here to Tonya, which helped me over a speed bump of my own. I loved this: “if our self concept includes doubts about XYZ, then the objective, no matter how valid and realistic and well intended, can become the obstacle.” I can really relate to that, and it was a great reminder to shift my perspective.
It’s so helpful when we can learn to spot what’s hampering our work’s effectiveness–as you describe with your edits and revisions for your WIP–especially those persistent darlings that can be so hard to see (and let go of). This is one of the hardest skills to master–gaining the objective perspective on our own work to be able to see with an editorial eye what’s serving it and what isn’t. But to me it’s a core skill for a writer to have–one we don’t put as much focus on teaching and learning, often, as we do on drafting.
Thanks, too, for the Munger quote–and the fresh reminder to see where I’m getting lost in the weeds and hampering my writing’s effectiveness–sometimes adding is detracting. Now let’s both go forth and FTF. 😉