Writing fearlessly

Many wonderful, clever passionate people have written so much about fearless writing that I hardly feel qualified or worthy of writing post even called this.

So this post isn’t going to tell you how to do that, because I am still figuring it out myself.  If you want to get help on that front, I can’t recommend Julia Cameron enough. Her book “Right to Write” is sitting next to me right now. It’s like my first ever comfort blanket. I love that woman.

So anyway, this post is the opposite, (I just didn’t want to call it “Here is how damn scary writing can be” as I’m being positive here). Here I am going to let my internal voices run rampant and write down what they say to me as I type. Those voices are in scary italics, just to be clear. If you get to the end of this and conclude I’m insane, well, fine, but if you hear that same voice when you write / work /create, I’d love to hear from you. Not to reassure me that I’m not the only crazy writer out there, but to sit together a while and share virtual tea.

So, for the purpose of this exercise I need something to write about.

Anything you write here is going to sound naff and contrived, so don’t even bother.

<focuses>

Okay, maybe drafting out a snappy synopsis (snappy? that sounds crap) for my book is a good idea. (they’ll think it’s a shameless plug, stop writing now!) This isn’t a shameless plug – it’s something I need to do as the one I was sending out with submissions is now out of date following editing. I need a synopsis to put on this site in case people get curious. (Don’t flatter yourself woman). Writing about my book is something I find incredibly hard to do, so this will give lots of nice fuel for the Censor! (This is just an avoidance exercise, go and write some of Book Two you lazy Trollope!)

<massages temples> Now I know this is an extreme exercise, as having to type the voice makes it louder, but I am really having to focus here. (Oh boo hoo. Go and watch TV then, this’ll never amount to anything anyway)

ARGH! <deep breath>

Amongst the dust and bones of post-apocalyptic London, (that sounds crap).

Ok. I can do this. … Amongst the dust and bones of post-apocalyptic London, three extraordinary children forge a friendship that transcends the hatred and distrust made prevalent by gang warfare. (Well, that doesn’t even begin to draw someone in. Say something about the Giant)

Ok, I am stopping this exercise now. (Coward).

No really, I’m stopping because it’s not healthy or good for to give that horrible voice room on the page. I’m off for a cup of tea, then I’ll pick up the pieces.

<Tea of epic proportions is made and drunk.>

When I am feeling at my worst, writing is like pulling a heavy cart uphill on a freezing morning. Or should I say, pulling a heavy, grumpy, sour-voiced internal censor along with me. JC’s book is helping me to learn that when I am writing a first draft, it is exactly that, a first draft. It doesn’t have to be perfect. So I have to let the censor rant away in the background, and for the first few paragraphs it can be hellish. But then at some point I get so caught up in the story that the voice fades. At a later point I go back and edit. Simple. Simple? Yeah, simple.

I guess what I am trying to illustrate is that there is a moment when I am so busy listening to my characters and watching the story play out in my mind, that the horrible red texted voice is drowned out. But until that point happens, there is a danger that it will scare me off the page.

This voice pops up in all kinds of places. And not just when writing prose. When I am researching the self-publishing options I have, sometimes I stumble across very negative voices. Only today I found an agent blog saying that if an agent or publisher hasn’t picked up your book and you’re thinking about self publishing, don’t, because their rejection should tell you the book isn’t good enough.

Oooohhhh, that makes me mad. If that were true, all published books would be picked up by the first agent or publisher lucky enough to have been in the first ten (a guess – the agent didn’t actually give a number of rejections needed to enable one to conclude a book isn’t good enough) on the author’s list. Philip Pullman, one of my heroes, was rejected many, many times before he was given a contract. And then it was several books later that he got very famous with the Dark Materials Trilogy. If that agent’s blog entry was true, surely after the first few rejections he should have taken the hint? NO! He didn’t! And hooray for that bloody minded persistence.

Oh, look at me, I’m ranting again. I do apologise. Where was I?

Oh yes, the negative voices. That was an example of an external negative voice. It nearly scared me off the pursuit of being self-published. But it is only an opinion. It is subjective.

My internal voice is subjective. It’s a nasty little bugger, but it isn’t a true thing. It’s not an authority. I’m beginning to think that there is actually no such thing as an objective authority when it comes to writing, or anything creative for that matter.

The closest thing I will get to an authority on my book and whether it is ‘good’ is my readers. And even then, there will be people who love it and people who hate it. And that’s ok. It’s all personal taste, subjective opinion. Some people are given more weight than others (your mother, the Times Book review, your partner, whoever). But that weight is something we can measure as individuals and discard if we wish. The most important thing is to know what YOU want to achieve, and what is ‘good enough’ for you. For me I mean. No, for you too! Somewhere in that paragraph it turned into a pep talk. But I’ve left it in because I believe that.

These negative voices are just the wind. Every time I write past that scary point I know that wind won’t blow me away. I’m hoping that one day I won’t even notice it.

Tagged as: fear, Writing