More about writing
Stuff That Helps
1. Write about what you want desperately to understand.
I wrote what I knew and no one wanted to buy it, which is quite a lucky thing because it wasn’t very good. Turns out what I know is what everybody else knows too. When I write about what I don’t know, what I don’t understand, and what I wish with the deepest part of myself could be … my writing gets better.
2. Look for the “second right answer.”
“Often it’s the second, or third, or tenth right answer which is what we need to solve a problem in an innovative way.” (Roger von Oech, author of A Whack on the Side of the Head)
I came up with 260 title ideas for Notes From a Liar and Her Dog. How nice it would have been if I only had to come up with one. Alas I’m not that talented. I have to fill in the gaps with work.
3. Write no matter how you feel.
I write best at my desk in the morning with two caffeine lattes and three oatmeal cookies within an inch of my hand. I’m stale in the afternoon and no amount of caffeine or cookies can help, but I write then too. Just in case.
4. Know when to take criticism. Know when to leave criticism.
To me this is the hardest thing. When people act like they know what they’re talking about and come at my work with a loud voice and all the force of their credentials, I crawl in a hole in my head and I don’t come out. When they go away, I try to sort out what about the crit I agree with and what I don’t. This is the tricky part. But my rule of thumb is this: if I’m not sure about a particular critical comment, I don’t make the change. I figure if the comment is valid, I’ll hear it again in a way that will make more sense to me. On the other hand, if a critical suggestion “rings true” I take it seriously. I don’t allow myself to gloss over the issue or make token changes. I stop everything and do the best job I can to correct the problem.
5. Let your head be a mess.
I like to get everything to work out. That is one of my greatest pleasures in life. But if I try to get things to come together too early in the writing process, it’s like putting a pan in the oven with nothing in it. All I get for my efforts is a scorched dish. It’s the chaos that gives richness to the order when it finally comes. I remind myself, “slow down — let the mess be all around you.”
6. Finish everything (okay, almost everything).
I write as many drafts as I need to to feel I’ve done the very best job I can with a particular manuscript, then I move on. I do not — so far at least — have any half-done novels. Picture books seem to be different for me. I can’t sink into them the same way. I do better working on picture books in little bits here and there. I have lots of half-finished picture books.
7. Go after the idea that you can’t convince yourself out of.
My head specializes in telling me I have stupid ideas. It stays up until all hours of the night planning strategies for my demise. My only hope is to go after ideas I want to do so badly that I don’t care what my head has to say about them.