Write it and weep: the turbulent (yet rewarding) journey of writing
What does it take to craft the ‘perfect’ sentence? To have your masterpiece sit alongside the behemoths of the literary world—Wilde, Woolf, Didion, Garner, Flanagan and Malouf? What does it take to string together a perfect group of words, that form a perfect group of sentences that form a piece of work that is timeless, moving and memorable?
There is no secret. Like mastering the art of cooking a soufflé, composing a symphony or performing heart surgery, writing takes practice, it takes effort and it takes time … lots and lots of time. In a world full of adjectives, verbs, nouns, adverbs, finding the right one to fit another is no easy feat … but it’s possible.
The sagest advice I have ever received on the matter of writing is that writing is a muscle—it needs to be exercised. In order to sculpt and master your craft you need to give yourself time—time to think, time to write and more time to write. You are not going to wake up one day and churn out a novel to outdo all others in a matter of a few days (or even weeks), so be patient. I mean, heck, it may take all day just to come up with sentence that is beyond mediocre.
My writing is often fraught with doubt, false starts and bouts of frustration. I would love to say that writing comes as naturally to me as breathing, but alas it does not. And so here I am, already frustrated, trying to write about the frustrations of writing. That tortuous love-hate relationship: a tug-of-war between moments of elation and moments of utter despair (you know the kind where you question your ability, your credibility and even your goddam existence?). Sometimes I think I have spent more time waiting for that epiphany to arrive—that idea—that will set me on my writing journey.
Writer’s block is inevitable, so when you’re in a rut take from Helen Dunmore: ‘A problem with a piece of writing often clarifies itself if you go for a long walk’. Don’t forget to move. Sometimes the natural process of walking—of putting one foot in front of the other—brings with it a natural flow of ideas. While just writing is often the best way forward—and the best way to get your idea to paper—walking and ruminating is a free-flowing process. You know what they say? Fresh air means fresh ideas.
Inspired by Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules of Writing, here are some of my personal dos and don’ts—the things that I have learnt through the Bowen Street Press as both editor and writer:
- Just write—and write regularly.
- Don’t be afraid—fear will hurt you.
- Let your sentences be perfectly imperfect: they are the building blocks from which great things will come.
- Make friends with your editor, they are there to help and are as much an advocate for your work as you are.
- Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
- When the ideas aren’t flowing, go for a walk. It will clear your mind.
- Stay curious and read widely and regularly. You can learn a lot from others.
- Discipline, discipline, discipline.
- Don’t forget to sleep. A tired body means a tired mind.
- Most importantly, try and enjoy the process. It’s not all bad—I promise!
So why do I do it? Why pour my heart and soul out of the unknown and onto the page? Why write when the journey is often filled with doubt, fear and tears? Because I can’t not. It is as much of my being as being is (a bit dramatic, but you get the picture).
The Bowen Street Press has prompted me to face my fears, and to just write; to accept the bad writing for what it is, and to practice the craft (of writing and editing) because practice makes perfect, write?
So, what are you waiting for? Write.