Last week we talked about fast writing. This week I want to riff on some of those points we made.
For years now, I’ve maintained “The First Draft” is a myth. There’s no need for it or the accompanying second, third, fourth, fifth, etc drafts. The multiple draft approach is an Academic Belief System all wannabe writers are taught to believe by people who don’t write for a living. It has no basis in reality. At least the reality of those who write fiction for a living.
The belief system of Academia and the editors in the traditional publishing world believe this formula:
Slow Writing = Good Writing.
Or conversely, Fast Writing = Bad Writing.
This is a belief system. A religion. It is not The Truth. It has no basis in reality. It’s no different than belief in God. No one can prove there is or isn’t a God. One either believes there is a God or believes there isn’t one. Simple as that.
We writers can choose to believe the myth about fast and slow writing or we can choose not to believe it. For myself, I don’t believe it.
In high school and college, as a matter of course, mostly due to time pressure is my guess, I wrote out my papers and essays by hand. Then I typed them, editing as I went along. When I was done, I submitted. No first draft, second draft baloney. There was no time. And I’m pleased to say, I never got poor marks on my papers.
But for some odd reason, I didn’t apply that intuitive course of action to my fiction writing. I struggled trying to make it perfect. To do all of the “right” things. And consequently, I got nothing written.
Nearly 40 years ago now, I read a book on writing advice. I don’t remember the title, author, or anything about it except the summary of how Isaac Asimov wrote and his advice for writers. It went something like this:
- Write every day — whether or not you feel like it.
- Write simply.
- Forget the critics.
- Don’t rewrite. That’s what editors are for. This point was Asimov’s restatement of Robert Heinlein’s 3rd Rule of Writing, something I learned later. Asimov didn’t rewrite unless his editor demanded it. Asimov followed what, in business, is called the OHIO rule: Only Handle It Once. And it does work for writers. I practiced it with my essays for school.
- Don’t use an agent. Because you make more money if you don’t. I.E., you aren’t paying the agent his or her commission.
That book and the brief bit of information from Isaac Asimov was my first introduction to prolific writing. And I loved the concept!
But for some reason, I still didn’t apply it to my fiction. And nothing got written.
Later on, I learned about the Victorian speed demon, Anthony Trollope. I learned Heinlein’s 5 Rules of Writing. I was awed by the fabulous production of Robert E Howard in his very short writing career. And I learned one thing about myself: I needed to be like them. I needed to be a fast writer.
In 1989, I wrote a novel. The process took me a year. I didn’t really know what I was doing. But I did get it written while working full time and learning the ins and outs of raising a very young child. After a few rejections of my query, I set the work aside. I decided it wasn’t up to standard. And in truth, it wasn’t. I didn’t quite have down how to write a good story. I also came to the decision, I couldn’t write longer works of fiction. They took up too much time. So I turned to poetry. And that worked.
For a span of fifteen or so years I wrote thousands of poems, following Asimov’s advice. I was a prolific poet and got hundreds of poems published. But I tired of poetry and wanted to write what I’d always wanted to write and that was fiction. So once again I turned to novel writing. And once again I stubbed my toe on another myth — that of the outline. And no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get an outline to work. Every time I took my wonderful character or story idea and tried to outline the book, I suddenly lost all inspiration. It vanished.
Then I stumbled upon Kazuo Ishiguro and Yasujirō Ozu and the plotless novel and movie. To be fair, their books and movies aren’t without plot. The storyline, though, is minor. What is important are the character studies taking place on the page and screen. That was what broke the ice. I liked reading about characters. I could not care less about the story. I want interesting characters.
Suddenly, I felt free. There were no restrictions. Just write. Do what Ray Bradbury advised: create your characters, have them do their thing, and that’s your story. Simple as that. The words have been flowing like a flood from my pen ever since.
But getting back to Asimov, there was one “rule” he didn’t articulate but is clearly implied in his methodology — and which I follow. Namely, write it right the first time.
How does one write it right the first time? Confidence. You must be confident you know the basics of good writing. You must be confident you can tell a reasonably good story.
I’m not referring here to deeply profound writing. Or writing that is symbolic or “literary”, whatever that means. Or writing that is approved by Academia. I’m not referring here to writing that will win you the Pulitzer or Nobel or Booker awards. I’m referring here to good writing that will hopefully earn you a few bucks and maybe a lot of bucks. Straightforward writing that tells a good story.
Shakespeare did not set out to become the doyen of English literature. He was writing to make a buck. He used prefab storylines and created memorable characters and wrote some doggone good dialogue. But his main goal was to make a buck to support his family, mistress, and keep his theatre afloat. Shakespeare had confidence he could tell a good story.
The critics hated Isaac Asimov and ridiculed his very simple and straightforward writing style. However, the readers loved him and Asimov himself undoubtedly laughed at his critics all the way to the bank. Why? Because he told a good story. Was it a perfect story? No. And he would have been the first to admit it. But the story was good. In fact, Asimov wrote once that he tried to follow the multiple draft method and couldn’t. He liked what he wrote on the first draft and didn’t see any way he could improve it. Besides, it was a waste of time — if he wanted to be prolific and make a buck. Asimov had confidence.
Dean Wesley Smith tells an interesting anecdote from back when he was part of the traditional publisher world. He wrote a novel and his editor sent it back with a list of rewrites. Smith agreed with most of them and spent a day making the fixes. He was getting ready to send the typescript back when his wife told him to wait 3 weeks. Why? Because if Smith sent it back right away, following the “Slow Writing = Good Writing” myth, the editor would reject his work. He’d done the rewrites too quickly. So Smith waited. After 3 weeks he sent the typescript back and the editor praised his work and how quickly he’d made the fixes. Smith laughed. In those three weeks he’d almost finished another novel!
So what’s my point here? Here it is in a nutshell:
- Learn the writing craft. Know your grammar and know the basics of good storytelling. If you don’t know those basics, you will not be able to tell good stories no matter how many rewrites you grind out.
- Write every day — even if you don’t feel like it. Routine is good. Stick to it.
- Don’t pot around worrying about outline and plot twists and all the other hoopla. Just write the story. Create your characters, put them in a fix or give them a problem to solve and then start writing. You will learn in the course of writing. We are writers. Not rewriters. When I read of writers who LOVE editing and rewriting… Well, there is something wrong there. IMO.
- When done, reread to make sure your story is coherent and to catch typos, grammar issues, and any clunky sentences you may have written. But the sake of everything that is of value to you, don’t rewrite the thing. IMO, if you have to rewrite then you don’t know how to tell a story. Yeah, I know, that’s harsh. But it is just my opinion. The choice is yours: pot around rewriting, or get it right the first time and try to make a buck.
I’ve written and/or published in the span of 2 years, 11 novels, 6 novellas, 16 short stories, and a weekly blog. Are there better writers out there than me? Certainly. Are there worse writers? Sure are. But am I a good writer? Like Asimov, when I look at a story or novel I’ve just completed I like it. Do I tweak it? Usually. But I don’t rewrite. I just fix the little things like typos and grammar mistakes and maybe reword a sentence or two if they come off sounding clunky. That’s it. If the beta readers spot a big issue, I’ll fix that. Following Asimov and Heinlein, I only rewrite if my “editors” insist on it. And the so called rewrite is usually only a paragraph or so.
That’s the secret to fast writing. Go out there and tell your stories. Because only YOU can tell YOUR stories.
Comments are always welcome. Until next time, happy reading!
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I’ve really enjoyed these articles, CW.
I wish that I had been able to get some comments in on the other pieces, but… I just haven’t had the time (in fact, I started writing this on Monday and it is already Thursday afternoon…). I decided to just write fast and throw everything into one post, something I feel certain your Spam Filter will not take kindly to.
When I see articles like this, I find it sad that there are too few, or no, comments. I wonder if it is because the message hits home more often than not.
I wanted to comment on the piece with Trollope and how circumstance presented opportunity. Interestingly, he enjoyed his most ‘awakened’ and productive state after he arrived in Ireland in his new posting as an inspector. The long train journeys, along with a newfound sense of contentment in the workplace, appeared to give him the momentum to focus on his writing (his job involved a lot of travelling/commuting). Perhaps it was also down to his marriage; someone to help with the day-to-day matters of life.
Contentment is very important in my opinion. Very few of us are happy with what we do to earn the pennies. If you are, then you are very fortunate indeed.
The type of job can also be a factor. I find myself more productive whenever I’ve have been engaged in manual work than mental. Mental work often drains me of focus and creativity in much the same way a vampire draws blood. Sadly, it is this that line of work that drags me in to the shadows.
Some jobs follow a routine. Breaks are all scheduled and the hours fall into a familiar pattern. Some jobs don’t. Schedules are in constant flux and breaks can require one to eat and work at the same time.
Still, even this can be conquered by the commute.
I used to love commuting. A solid two-hour round trip or thereabouts often let me get a lot of writing done. I could also use the time to read or catch up on blogs and the like. Take the commute away and you suddenly find that oasis barren.
The wife/husband/partner factor often creates a new set of challenges, although supportive relationships can often help one find time previously lost to the multitude of tasks that fill a normal day. Of course, it does depend upon the relationship and circumstances.
I have to be very selective with what and when I write. I turned to writing another short story in recent months rather than update my blog. It’s not much, but it is something. In some ways, it was also to see if my writing had changed (for the better/worse) after returning to full-time employment.
For me, the attraction of traditional publishing for me was always the possibility of securing that advance which would allow me to crack on without the distraction of garnering currency in other, less agreeable, ways. I care not for the reputation or glamour associated (mistakenly so) with traditional publishing, but just the means with which to escape the world into those that I want to write about.
Writing everyday is possible. This comment is proof of that (yesterday, I wrote three words before I had to switch off and get back to work). It might take you all week to finish, but finish you eventually will.
Be kind in forgiving me any mistakes in the above spiel. It’s a first draft…
Thank you, Crispian, for this wonderful comment. A post in and of itself! There are many valuable insights here, which enrich my original. Thank you!
Your observations concerning Trollope are very much to the point: a new found contentment with his employment, and a spouse who was supportive (in fact, she was the only person who saw his manuscripts before the editor). Trollope’s job changed when he moved back to England, but by then his writing routine was well established.
Contentment, support, type of employment, the writing mindset — all are important factors in whether or not we write anything at all. Hence Rilke’s admonition: if I must write, then I must also structure my life so I can write. Rilke was willing to be poor, most of us are not. Or cannot, because others depend on us.
Yes, the dream of living off of the advance against royalties. I used to dream about that too. But, in spite of the hype to the contrary, big six or seven figure advances are rare. And when given, the publisher does everything possible to make the book a success. After all, they want to get their money back — they are in business to make a profit. But for the other few writers who are accepted into the hallowed halls of traditional publishing, those huge advances are just as fictional as their novels. Advances are usually much further south of $100,000 and the writer has to do his or her own promotion. And we must remember, these huge advances are being paid for literary novels — not genre novels.
The publishing industry is tied to several myths. Among them are that literary novels are better than other novels. Slow writing equals better writing. Academics and professionals are better writers than janitors and fast food workers. Books must be hundreds and hundreds of pages long to be worthwhile. And the list goes on. What it boils down to is elitism and snobbery. Traditionally published literary books are better than all others. Because they’ve been approved. Of course that is balderdash.
Many years ago Dean Koontz wrote How to Write Best Selling Fiction. It was his formula for how he wrote the blockbuster novel. I read the book and read his before and after novels. I also read his much earlier book on how to write genre fiction. Koontz’s formula worked. For him, at least. Even so, his books aren’t really what publishers want. They want the heady literary novel that will become part of the canon of great literature. Whatever that means. After all, Shakespeare wrote for money. And so did Dickens and Trollope.
But a good genre writer, can make a very decent living as a novelist. And many indies are doing so. One must learn the business side of writing. It’s not glamorous. But it’s necessary. And we all know genre fiction sells much better than literary fiction. Much to the chagrin of the Big 5.
Your comments are insightful, Crispian, and add to my post. Thank you so very much for posting them. (Even the spam filter agrees.)