We all (even me) have this overly romantic idea in our heads of what a writer looks like, such as Jamie from the movie Love Actually, who’s at his French cottage, writing on a typewriter overlooking a view of a beautiful lake, and being helped by a Portuguese housekeeper (whom he falls in love with).
The reality, however, is that it is more likely going to be like the character of Jack in The Shining. Why? Because you’ll have moments of lucidity, in between moments where pressing a key, any key, is all you can manage, before you go on a rampage attempting to kill everyone (or your stories or characters) with an axe. Okay, maybe not that last part – at least I hope not – but the sentiments are the same.
Writing is hard. Really hard.
You have to go into it knowing that there will be days where nothing floats to the top of your mind. Or days where you’ll crank out so many words, you’ll be amazed, only to find out later that most of it is crap and needs to be rewritten. Or you’ll hit that point in your book – and this is goes for both non-fiction and fiction novels – where you have absolutely no idea what happens next, what ideas to introduce, what your characters are doing, or where this is all going.
It is hard. It is exhausting. It is overwhelming and it is confusing. But in those moments of lucidity, where great ideas emerge, all of your effort becomes worth it. That beautifully worded sentence; that well-constructed paragraph that earns a chef’s kiss – these are the reasons we write. And those are the moments you have to write for and capture when they happen, so that you can slog through all of the crappy moments that precede it or come after it.
You have to embrace the crappy part of writing. It is the only way forward to get that end result – a piece of written content worthy of sharing. And if you don’t go in expecting and embracing the crud, you won’t get much writing done.