All writing is rewriting
Welcome, dear neophyte. We’re here to address a common issue that many aspiring writers, like yourself, tend to grapple with. It’s the pitfall of all novices, one that only experience can truly rectify. You may aspire to write a plethora of books, but bear in mind that each one will demand at least ten rounds of rewriting.
But fret not, there’s no need to tremble in fear. After all, I’ve invested a significant sum in this computer, and excessive shaking could lead to loose screws. That’s better, my dear neophyte; now, take a deep breath and relax. I understand your apprehensions. Writing can indeed be an intimidating endeavor, and the realization that your work will require multiple revisions can make it even more daunting. This is especially true if you’ve spent your entire life being told, “You write so well, OMG, you should be a writer!”
Oh, how fortunate are the ignorant, for they have no idea what they’re talking about. I have a feeling I’ll repeat this often enough to turn it into a bit of a meme, but the truth is, you’ll have to put in the hard work. Good writing is writing that has been meticulously refined. Once you have that intuitive sense that your words are conveying precisely what you intend, then it’s good. When you recognize that a particular scene is an essential component of the story, then it’s good.
You’ll go through many drafts before the chosen one is revealed, with numerous attempts, most of which will likely fail, especially the first one. Give up the hope that your very first draft will be anything better than serviceable, at best. Be most generous with yourself in this regard. When you first sit down to write, you won’t fully know the story, the characters, and you can’t write what you don’t know. With each pass, you’ll get to know the people in the story, how they will act, and the consequences of their actions.
Wait, did you space out there for a moment? What? You got stuck on the part where I mentioned “once you have an intuitive sense.” How do you know? You ask, well, my dear neophyte, you’ve been deceived by the merchants of security. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but bear with me. In my own journey of self-learning (I’ve learned the hard way that I don’t fit in higher education), I’ve come across many authors who peddle their methods, what works for them, and how they achieved success. This is dangerous, my dear neophyte, very, very dangerous.
Why? Because while we all crave security and safety, success is not found in those. So if we buy a method from someone, we run the danger of becoming a pale imitation of them. I know the sticky note method is all the rage right now, but it makes me very uncomfortable. I fear for those who use that method; it makes their writing inflexible, but, most of all, it will make their writings very similar. You see, my dear neophyte, while the tools we have to write with are many, they are still limited. So there will be similarities between stories. If all of us start using the same methods… Do you see my point? What? That they make it easy? Oh, my dear neophyte, this is not about making anything easy.
Now, returning to your earlier problem, how do you develop intuition? It’s through repetition, of course. With each rewrite, you’ll develop a sense for the patterns, and once you start to see them, you can’t unsee them. It truly is a point of no return, and I’m afraid there is indeed no magic formula, no “one method to rule them all.” There is only writing and, well, you.
You have to accept this reality or abandon the craft; there are no two ways about it. You must embrace the madness of repetition and all that it implies, or just give up halfway through. There are indeed methods and practices that you should employ – I’m no sadist – but they should be uniquely yours, yours alone. Accept that all writing is rewriting.
