The way I’m revising my work-in-progress is different than
in the past.
I’m content now to stay in one place in the story for as
long as I need to stay there.
I won’t allow myself to move ahead until I feel that I’ve
finished a section—a sentence, a scene, a page, a chapter—and only then will I
let myself take another step into the story.
In the past I couldn’t wait to reach the end of the story. I
thought if only I could reach the end, I’d have accomplished something. I’d have
“finished” a book, even if the book needed a good deal more revision.
I treated the revision process as if it was a race. First to
reach the finish line wins!
Racing to the end of the story made writing a lot easier,
that’s for sure. It allowed me to skip past “problems,” overlook them, and
avoid elements of the story that didn’t fit well together or which weren’t altogether clear
in my head.
Treating the revision process as if it were a race
prevented me from noticing important details which might have made the story
more compelling. Moving too quickly through
the story, I was unable to stop and notice these details.
I was writing, but writing with speed through the scenes and
chapters didn’t help the story. It simply helped me get more quickly from plot
point A to plot point B. It didn’t help me understand how—or why—the points were
connected.
But I couldn’t slow down. If I slowed down, I felt as if I’d fall
off the high wire and stop writing, or I’d topple off the path and lose my way
and look foolish.
Now, though, after slowing down, I no longer worry about
falling off the high wire.
Nobody’s watching—no editor or agent or critique
partner—so I can give myself permission to make mistakes. Sometimes those
“mistakes” are the most interesting part of the process and lead to an
unexpected path, a doorway that might reveal something new about my story.
Instead of running, I crawl slowly on my hands and knees now. I
sift the sand through my fingers again and again, examining it for evidence
of a story, interesting tidbits, marks: broken shells, slivers of bark, small
stones, silky pine needles, spider webs, dead moths, butterfly eggs, tiny footprints
left near the water.
When I feel the urge to pick up speed, I remind myself to slow
down.
I have to stop if I want to see and hear and savor what’s around me, if I want to notice where I am.
No longer do I worry about reaching the finish. It’s
not a race.
For more on slow writing, visit:
http://slowwriting.com
http://beyondthemargins.com/2013/10/slow-writing/
http://www.christophergronlund.com/blog/tjw/2013/09/16/in-praise-of-slow-writing/
http://www.tinhouse.com/blog/21849/
http://www.dailywritingtips.com/a-case-for-slow-writing/
For more on slow writing, visit:
http://slowwriting.com
http://beyondthemargins.com/2013/10/slow-writing/
http://www.christophergronlund.com/blog/tjw/2013/09/16/in-praise-of-slow-writing/
http://www.tinhouse.com/blog/21849/
http://www.dailywritingtips.com/a-case-for-slow-writing/
Posts
4 comments:
Incisive observations, Bruce. I've tried the suggestion to "blast out the chapter, then go back and edit." Doesn't work for me. I like to contemplate as I write, fleshing out details as I go. I've learned that even writing this way, there'll be plenty of editing later. Enjoy your WIP!
Thanks, Pat. Me, too. Sometimes it works to blast through to the end--especially when I'm unsure where the story is heading--but for the most part, like you, I've come to savor the chance to flesh out details along the way. The difference is like driving through a small town at 15 mph vs driving through on the interstate at 80 mph.
I appreciate your perspective, Bruce. If you're not writing to deadlines, you do have a lot of freedom, and I don't think writers appreciate that enough.
Lynn, you're right. It's hard to slow down if you're writing under deadline or under the pressure of a writing class or MFA program or such things as parenting responsibilities. And sometimes, such as in free writing exercises, slowing down is what you don't want to do. Speed is key in getting the words down. Writing involves an ongoing balancing act--getting the words down and then revising the words. And each of us needs to find his or her own pace. For many of us a deadline can be helpful just because it's a way of saying "You're done." (For now.)
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