Writing poorly never hurt so bad. But I hear it’s worth it.

I’ve been cranking out pages of story outlines these past few weeks. Story outlines, character sheets, new-world descriptions. I love the beginning of a new book. Creating it from nothing. Discovering what my hero wants. How she’ll do whatever it takes to get it. Then watch her transform from her old self to new. It’s a satisfying journey–and yet, at times, I feel completely uncreative. While I am producing a certain amount of “stuff” it’s not well polished “stuff.” Write poorly, I’m told to do in these early stages. Let it go. Allow for crap to hit the page. Because this will help you hold your story loosely. It will help you find your story at its truest sense. And I love that idea. Found it helpful, even. But to write poorly for weeks on end, hurts. To not care about the rhythm of my words, the poetic prose, the cadence of syntax, hurts. It goes against everything my perfectionistic brain tells me to do.

But if I can ignore it for just a few weeks more, give this idea of “holding my story loosely” by “writing poorly” then I think I’ll end up with a pretty decent book. It won’t be perfect. But it’ll be complete. A story I’ll feel is worthy of making pretty. Of editing until my fingers bleed. Until it’s so late at night, my head drops to my chin.

So I continue this uncreative/creative battle. Who’s with me?



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