Getting through the muck

Writing means reading. A lot. Write a scene; then revise it. Revise it again. Figure out where it fits chronologically (because I never write from beginning to end; I tend to hop around the timeline), then rewrite it to fit. Then revise it.

This involves a lot of reading of the story; which, when the scene I'm reading isn't all that great, means suffering through what can be (and sometimes is) some pretty bad writing.

It's the process, I know, by which bad writing becomes good writing, but sometimes it's tedious, and sometimes it's boring.

Then there's the other side of the coin. There are the parts I read that I haven't read in weeks or months; parts written well, which draw me to the story like they were someone else's words. An action scene that has me on the edge of my seat, or an emotional scene between two people that makes my heart skip a beat. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's a major thrill. Especially when I'm in the middle of an especially tough case of writer's block. I read a scene like this and find myself in a state of disbelief; I can write like this? Since when?

It's a boost to the ego, a shot of adrenaline I desperately need when slogging through oceanic levels of mud. Because if I've written well before, it only stands to reason that I can do it again, right?

Right?

Like I said, it doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's a thrill, and though it's not why I write, it certainly helps keep me going.

Just a thought.

 

--Cris

 

PS – Writing also means inevitable Microsoft Word crashes. Save your work, kids. Save often.