I recently started working on a new short story. Actually, it’s a short story I started writing ages ago. I didn’t remember anything about it, not a single word. I’m not even joking. I discovered it scrolling through old computer files and thought to myself, “What’s this?” and then, “Ooo, I like this. Maybe I should finish it.”
I forgot how much I enjoy writing short stories, because I haven’t written one in a while. Working on this new (old) story made me recall how much I love finishing writing projects. I am really, really close to finishing the first draft of the story. This made me recall a blog post I wrote a few years ago. For some reason, my old blog disappeared. But luckily, I saved my blogs on my hard drive.
In the interest of full disclosure, I am still actually working on the novel I discuss in this post. After numerous revisions, I ended up setting it aside for several years. I pulled it out of the drawer a few months ago, and I am revising it again. So much for reaching the finish line!
Anyway, here are some thoughts on writing from 2011 (edited slightly):
Starting a new writing project is one of the most exhilarating things one can experience. First comes the burst of inspiration. This is followed by an uncontrollable need to sit down at my laptop or with a notebook and a pen. Next comes this indescribable feeling, something like an out-of-body experience—which might last five minutes or five hours—as the words flow from somewhere outside me, through my body, down my arms, into my fingers and onto the page or screen. If you are a writer—and if you are reading this, you probably are—then you know how truly incredible this feeling can be.
There is only one thing I love more than starting a new writing project.
Finishing one.
I think this is why I write a lot of ten-minute plays. They are short, and I tend to write them quickly. I set them aside for a few days, and then tackle some rewrites. Often I will bring them into a playwriting group… There’s this moment when I just know that the play is ready. Or sometime I have doubts, but I decide there is nothing I could possibly do to make the play any better. I save the document as a PDF or print it out and send it out into the world. I imagine that this must be very much how parents feel when they send their children off on a school bus for the first time. I am hesitant, but I beam with joy.
This “just finished” feeling is a little harder to achieve while writing a novel. Let’s face it, a novel take a heck of a lot longer to write than a ten-minute play. But I recently did it. I recently finished a draft of novel I had been working on for two years. I felt like crying and laughing and dancing. I think I did all three.
But it was really hard, getting to the finish line. I knew how I wanted to end the book, but I couldn’t manage to get there. As I got closer to the finish, I suddenly couldn’t think of anything to write. I had to start from the beginning. I reread, I rewrote, I revised. I started changing character names and playing with the structure for my book. I honestly could have spent the next decade tweaking those first 30,000 words. It was killing me! Something had to be done.
So I decided to do a few things that would force me to finish the book.
First, I emailed my agent. I told her that I would send her my work-in-progress—the one I had been telling her about for over a year—by the end of August. I don’t like to lie. I was going to have to come through with this promise.
Next, I gave myself a deadline. The deadline was at the end of July.
I started tweeting about my deadline and my progress. I am not actually sure if anyone ever reads my tweets, but making my deadline public really motivated me.
I also lined up my beta readers. These are friends and colleagues in my critique groups. These are people I trust. These are people who have my permission to give me a hard time if I don’t come through with a book. These are people I did not want to let down.
Finally, I locked myself in my house, and I wrote.
I’ll be honest. I didn’t quite meet my deadline. I had a good excuse, but I still felt guilty about it. I missed it by about a week. But I got the draft done. I laughed. I cried. I danced.
And then I sent the draft to my readers.
As soon as the comments came back, I sat down, and revised and rewrote, and sent it on to my second round of readers.
Then I set it aside. I forced myself to stay away from it for over a week so that I could look at it again with fresh eyes.
As I write this blog post, I still have a couple of weeks to go before my final, final deadline. In the next two days, I plan to complete my final revision, and then send the manuscript off to my line editor. (a.k.a. my mother.)
But a promise is a promise. The book will get done!
Oh, I am completely aware that just because I’ve hit the send button, doesn’t mean the book is really “done.” Even with my ten-minute plays, I often continue to revise them after sending them out, or once I have a chance to work with a director during a rehearsal process. I know full well that I will be revising my novel a lot more once my agent give me feedback, and certainly once it reaches an editor.
The thing about writing a novel is you get to experience that “finished feeling” with every draft. I am glad that I have something to look forward to.
