Writing to Search

Those of us who clamor around among dictionaries, thesauruses, and grammar guides looking for just the right word or phrase to finish a thought may be searching for perfection in writing. We may be striving for just the right sound or meaning or nuance to deliver our message. We may be hunting for a specific syllable or word to firm up a sentence and make it stand on its own, proudly declaring its meaning. But those of us who lose ourselves in the syntax of language are also searching for something else. When we care so much about message and delivery and resonance, it's because we are searching for ourselves in the poetry of language. It's the soothing rhythm of the words we write that brings us closer to finding out who we are. Facing the blank page and working at it until it becomes something of beauty is an inner journey that we take to discover what we know and what we need yet to learn. So in the pages of dictionaries and obscure reference books, we search for the trivia of life in order to find its larger meaning. It's that simple sound or syllable that carries the beat of the larger message. As writers, we have to dig deep and bury ourselves in the detail and detritus and darkness in order to find the light. We reach the surface from the inside out, one word at a time.

Writing Authentically

Writing with an authentic voice is one of the hardest things for writers to do. It means not varnishing the truth to make it more palatable for readers. It means speaking from the heart, not the mind, and getting to what really matters. It means giving it to readers raw and letting them choke, gag, chew and digest what you have to say with what mettle they have to ingest it. It means writing without fear of reprisal or judgement or failure. Writing with an authentic voice is writing in a way that moves readers deeply because the writing touches inner truths, those that no one else dares to give voice to. Authentic writing rings true to readers because its goal is not to impress or surprise or wow readers, but rather to touch them in a place they have not been touched before. Writing authentically requires absolute, intense focus on the message itself without regard to form or function or tradition. It requires plowing through the rough, ugly stuff and getting the story told in its purest form, unadorned. It requires presenting oneself naked to readers. It's the hardest thing for writers to do because we all fear judgment. We all fear being seen for who we really are. But if we don't take that plunge into the scary waters of our own truths and write from that center, we will never produce the kind of writing that resonates in any lasting way with readers. We have to risk it. If we care at all, we have to take that chance.

Writing Effort

Writing well takes time and effort. It sounds like such a simple and obvious truth, but it's one that many writers fail to grasp. To do something well means first spending a lot of time and effort doing it badly. That learning process can't be skipped over. Writers have to slog through all the bad writing to get to good writing and that slogging process takes an incredible amount of time, determination and dedication. It means you have to write every day. You don't have to write well every day. You just have to write every day, even if what you're writing is trash. It's the daily act of writing, week in and week out, year in and year out, that finally breaks through the barrier and brings you to a higher skill level. There is no short cut for this process, yet many writers expect to reach greatness without first putting in the work. But the reality is, you not only have to put in the work, you have to love the work. You have to love the daily hammering out of words and sentences and paragraphs. You have to love the editing, the rewriting, the deleting and starting from scratch, because these are the things that will lead you to great writing. In fact, you have to love the process so much that the process is what matters to you most, not the goal. To write and to write daily, no matter what else is going on, is the mark of a true writer. Good or bad, famous or unknown, all true writers share this daily ritual. Write because you have to, because nothing else matters more, and you can reach your goals.

Start in the Middle

Common sense tells you to start a story at the beginning. However, in writing prose, the most effective place to start, whether fiction or nonfiction, is in the middle of things. A story told in linear fashion from beginning to end can be very boring for readers. The reason is because the surprise and intrigue is stripped by linear story lines. Readers want to guess what's coming next, but they also want to guess what happened before. They want to have to wonder and figure things out for themselves. If you start at the beginning, you eliminate this experience for readers. Starting in the middle of the action, whether it's a short story, novel or memoir, is hooking the reader into the story with the immediacy of what's taking place. Beginning with background information to set the story up doesn't provide that hook. Readers want to be fed the action bit by bit so they can piece the story together like a jigsaw puzzle. That's a huge part of the excitement of reading. Starting in the middle of the action gets readers involved instantly. Once you have them hooked and interested in the story, you can circle back periodically to the past to fill them in with important background information. This circling back is called flashback and is a critical tool in effective storytelling. Always leaving just enough information unrevealed so that readers are kept intrigued is crucial. If you start in the middle, rather than the beginning of your story, you can hook readers early and keep them wanting more all the way to the end.

Building Prose

Effective prose is not so much composed as it is constructed. Much like a building is put together according to a blueprint, good prose is put together according to an outline or storyboard. A building of bricks and mortar is assembled block by block, piece by piece. Prose is assembled word by word, syllable by syllable. Each piece of a building is inspected, weighed and measured before becoming part of the building. It's evaluated for its structural integrity and conformity to style. In the construction of effective prose, each word or sentence is also weighed and measured for its integrity to the structure and unity with the message of the overall work before becoming a part of it. A completed building is inspected for weaknesses after the work is completed, and those parts that don't hold up to the standards of the work and the industy are either removed or remodeled. If prose is approached in this manner with the same careful planning, construction and inspection, it will emerge as solid writing that will stand the test of time. It most certainly will stand the test of editorial critiquing and the scrutiny of a discerning readership. Using all the tools in a writer's toolbelt to construct effective prose is a painstaking but infinitely rewarding process.

Focus Your Writing

Sometimes writers are faced with so many possibilites for writing projects that it's hard to focus on just one idea. The distraction and lack of focus can result in nothing getting written. Writers often find themselves flitting from one project to the next, abandoning one when the going gets tough in favor of another that seems easier or more enticing. This constant shuffling of attention results in no real productive progress on any project. So what can a writer do to get focused? The best way to select a single project out of many possibilities is to listen to your own urges. What project have you been thinking about for months or maybe even years, but haven't yet gotten around to starting? What project is on your mind more than others? When you're working on several projects at once, which one grabs your attention the most? Which idea pulls at your consciousness the hardest? Which one excites you? That is the project you should be attending to. Putting all your energy into the one idea that you really care about and sticking with it until it's finished will be far more fruitful than flitting half-heartedly between several ideas you aren't really emotionally invested in. So listen to your inner urges and follow them to the idea that will inspire you to do your best writing.

Writing by Hand

With all of the technology available to writers today, it is easy to lose the skill of handwritten composition. Technology makes the writing process vastly easier, but it can also distance us from our writing. That connection of mind to hand to paper is a different connection than the one from mind to hand to keyboard. There is a sensual quality to putting pen or pencil to paper. There is texture and touch and the sensation of carving words into a paper canvas that's missing when typing on a keyboard and watching words appear on a screen. Writing on a computer is much faster and infinitely easier to edit. But writing on paper is more grounded, closer to what we feel when we write. The computer screen creates a distancing phenomenon that makes our writing more abstract, more removed, less real. Writing on paper is an immediate experience that puts us in the moment, makes our writing concrete because we can feel it, and connects us with our inner selves. Typing on a computer can be fast and blurred, and composing can seem almost automatic, thoughtless. But writing on paper slows us down, makes us savor each word. There is more thought, more pausing to reflect, more clarity. I encourage my writing students to maintain that connection between mind and hand and paper and not become lost in the screens of cell phones and computers and other gadgets that take us further from ourselves instead of closer. And I encourage them simply because there is no other feeling quite like the touch of pencil lead on paper. We should all strive to be as close to our writing as we can. It will make us better thinkers and better artists.

Write the Senses

We tend to focus on the visual in descriptive writing. But we have at our disposal the powerful senses of touch, sound, smell and taste. When describing, we should use all of the senses to create the kind of rich detail that readers will remember. The rainy day may be gray and chilly, but what does it smell like? What does the rain taste like? The wind may be howling, but what does it look like? Does it smell? What does a shabby room sound like? What does a frightened child smell like? Looking at these unusual dimensions of the things we're describing can bring new experiences and new perspectives to ordinary phenomena. It can turn our descriptive writing upside down and make it memorable. Will you remember a description of a reddish brown horse or a horse that smells like autumn leaves? Will you remember a description of a loud train or a train that blurs the trees like green butter? The senses that we don't expect are the ones that will resonate the most deeply with us. Give your readers the richness of our sensual world by using all the senses available to us. Begin to look at and write about your world in ways you haven't considered before. Your description will flourish and your writing will deepen.

Seamless Writing

Seamless writing is that which carries itself along, not pushed by the writer, but rather pulling the writer along. It reads effortlessly and the reader is unaware of the intricacies of its structure. We should all strive to write seamlessly. We care about the way we look and would never think of wearing clothing with the seams and tags showing. Why would we be content to have the seams and tags of our writing hanging out for all to see? Our writing is as much a reflection of who we are as our clothing, hairstyle, and body image. We should care about it as much as we do these other things. Writing seamlessly requires great attention to detail. But more than that, it requires unwavering attention to creative voice. Writing that is natural for a writer, that is germane to who the writer is, has language that flows. The writing carries the writer and reader along on a literary journey that is both simple and profound. It's simple because it's not flowery writing or puffed up writing. It's profound because it's honest writing, language that is raw and unfettered by convention, words that tear to the heart of matters. It's the kind of writing that readers want to read. They want to be moved by words the way they are moved by a stunning musical composition, following the rhythm and nuance of language through seamlessly constructed prose. Make your writing music to readers' ears.

Writing Pain

Revision is hard for most of us. It's akin to painstakingly building a sandcastle only to see it washed away with the next tide. We have a hard time letting go of our words. That's because our words come from within, and every word we let go is like letting a part of ourselves go. It's human nature to become attached to what we've created. But as writers, its the worst thing we can do. We have to let go to get to that next level of skill. Revision means re-visioning our work, seeing it with different eyes. And that often leads to tearing into our words like ravenous wolves. But we must be willing to do this. We have to be willing to throw it all out if that's what it takes. At the very least, we have to be willing to reassemble our sentences and paragraphs and chapters into passages that work, even if it means cutting out most of our original version. And then we need to rework it again until we have exhausted ourselves with the effort and it's as good as we're capable of making it. To do any less is to do half-hearted revision. Just merely rearranging our words, hoping they'll sound a little better the second time around is not truly revision. Revision cuts. It bleeds. It even hurts. But what you end up with when you're done is a piece of writing that is as honest and resonant and perfect as you are capable of, and that's what makes the writing process worth the pain.

Empty Minds

Lord Byron once wrote: "If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad." This is a writer's dilemma. While writing can empty the mind of pestering thoughts and fears, the mind can also present itself as empty too often when writing is desired. Byron's approach to writing is a panacea for stress. It's why we journal and write letters to the editor and blog. There is a deep human need to express ourselves, be heard, and let off a little steam. That's the good end of the stick. The bad end is the one writers face much more often - having nothing to write. This is when a writer's true mettle comes into play. When faced with a blank page and a seemingly empty mind, writers can either cave in to writer's block or choose to go deeper. How can you go deeper when you're already empty? The answer is almost too simple - just begin writing. What writers must learn to do is trust their creative minds to wander the labyrinths of what appears to be thoughtlessness and find meaning. This may require some staring, some starting and stopping, even some nonsensical writing. But hang in there. It will all lead to something, and most likely something more profound than you imagined could exist in an empty mind. This is because our minds are never truly empty. They just seem that way sometimes because they're on idle. But given a prompt and a little persistence, our wonderful creative minds can deliver. So Lord Byron might have needed to empty his mind for his sanity, but our greatest challenge as writers is to never give up plumbing the depths of our minds, even when they're silent, to discover the inevitable surprises that lie within.