Embrace the tedium
I saw the gaps in the project, saw what the project could become if properly executed, and saw the long road from where I am to where I need to be.
I ran across this clip of Akira Kurosawa recently, in which he gives advice to those who want to make films. The advice applies just as well to those who want to write.
I was pleased to see that Kurosawa essentially told everyone to just start writing. That is still the most helpful piece of advice a new writer can hear. If you won’t even start, if you’re worried about getting the conditions for your writing just right, then you won’t manage to ever write anything. So just start writing.
But what happens when you are looking at the blank page or the blinking cursor on the still-untitled Google Doc? What do you do?
Recently, I received some feedback on a writing project. It was thoughtful and insightful, which I appreciated. It was honest, which is necessary for good feedback. Worst of all, it was correct. After that conversation, I saw the gaps in the project, saw what the project could become if properly executed, and saw the long road from where I am to where I need to be. So I opened up a Google Doc and got to work.
Except, I didn’t work. I stared at the screen for a time. I thought about writing, but I didn’t write. I thought about what needed to change, but I didn’t write. Before I knew it, it was time to pick up my son from daycare — where exactly did my day go? Nowhere, really. It had gone nowhere, just like me.
I don’t have many strengths as a writer, but the one thing I have always prided myself on is my ability to just start writing. I nearly always have something to say, I don’t mind if a draft is awful, and I like the feeling of getting the words out of my head. This has served me well throughout my life.
So when I feel stuck, I feel stuck. It is like I’ve stepped in concrete, was slow to respond, and now it has hardened around my shoes.
This is one of the most unsettling feelings I can experience as a writer and creator. My ability to make something, even if it is (speaking rather politely) complete crap, at least insulates me from the most extreme feelings of self-doubt. As long as I’m writing something, I still feel like I’m doing what I love to do: writing. I am the thing I most desire to be: a writer. When the words don’t come, I start to worry.
So, stumbling upon Kurosawa’s clip was rather fortuitous. He says that the most necessary and essential thing for a writer is the forbearance to face the dull task of writing one word at a time—here, he is echoing Balzac. If Balzac and Kurosawa both experienced this, maybe I’m not in such bad company.
I saw this notification while staring blankly at my IDE. I feel this.
I needed this today. I’ve been working on a longer tougher article than i’m used to writing and almost worked on a different article today to put it off. I thought, maybe if i write something quick and easy this week, it’ll give me more time to think about the article i really want to write. Deciding to write the challenging article any way was a much more gratifying choice and i’m proud that i did … even if the first draft is (speaking politely) crap.