When I talk to fellow writers, I’m often shocked by the layers of distractions they form between themselves and their work. There are infinite excuses for not writing that are completely avoidable. The most common distractions that I hear (and one that I fall for myself) are often existential in nature. “I can’t write this,” a friend of mine told me once. “I haven’t experienced this before.”
So many novice writers fall back on this excuse. Since they’re young, or because they haven’t traveled, the writer thinks that they’re unable to write about certain emotions or experiences. To compensate for their perceived lack of credentials, they distract themselves with “research.” The more they don’t write and just go on living, the larger their chances are of having an epiphany or happening upon an experience so authentic that it will translate into some amazing writing. Of course, the writing never happens and the words never come. Those potential writers are too busy reading books, or watching movies, or chasing after passing days while they siphon their time away. They hope that by doing all of that, they will attain the unattainable and become better writers without ever actually having to write. This is a vicious cycle. Once the novice prescribes “research” to improve their writing, they often find themselves never writing anything.
The fact of the matter is that the most important tool of the writer is their imagination. You don’t have to be 100 percent accurate on whatever you’re writing about, even if you’re writing something like historical fiction. Sticking to the facts not only distracts you, it can distract your readers. If your audience wanted a historically or scientifically accurate presentation of whatever you’re trying to show them, they probably would have picked up a textbook instead of your story. My personal philosophy holds that creative writing is about feeling and offering the readers a compelling experience. Factual accuracy is a cold mechanism that should be used carefully and sparingly like a delicate surgical knife. A good writer, I believe, is also a good liar.
As I hinted at before, I am the pot calling the kettle black. Over the past few months, I’ve started writing a script for a comic I’m deadly serious about. I’ve packed every panel of every page with symbolism that I consider “deep” and “esoteric,” which means that I have to run to my books and Google to ensure I’m writing the scenes “correctly.” Since I keep doubling back to my research, I only have some 1,500 words actually written. Sure, I’ve done some actual writing, but I can’t help but consider how much more I could have written if I had just pushed ahead, instead of falling back. I would eventually like to get to a point in my life where I write 1,500 words a day instead of 1,500 words in five months!
This goes to my second point: The purpose of being a writer is that you write. Sometimes the novice actually does write (as I have), but then they stop at a certain point. Once they’ve stopped, they go back and read what they’ve written and do one of two things. The writer either hates their writing and never returns to it again, or they hate what they’ve written and mercilessly start editing it without ever moving on. Regardless of whatever wall they’ve hit, the writer will not move forward. It’s like they’ve forgotten what a first draft is!
Here’s some advice from someone that knows this pain all too well: your first draft will always suck. You will never be happy with it. Whether you’re writing for fun or professionally, every writer worth their salt will inevitably return to their first draft and confront the awfulness within. You’ll edit it or hit the reset button—sometimes both; however, whatever you come out with after the first draft will most likely be better than what came before it. If you’re lucky, you’ll have an editor or some friends that will read your work and give you constructive feedback.
Just write. It’s the greatest cliché in the business. Every writer will tell their fellows to do it. No one will write your work for you. You’ll never get better if you don’t write. Don’t distract yourself with “research,” self-loathing, or self-editing. Charge headlong into whatever you’ve plotted in your head and write with reckless abandon until you’ve gone from the beginning to the end. Experiment and don’t be afraid to expound your ignorance. The fat will be cut once you’ve passed through the first draft. You need to put your blood, sweat and tears into the page, or word document, or whatever medium, if you really want to be called a writer. Merely fantasizing about arriving at a finished page doesn’t make you a writer, it makes you a dreamer.
