You Have to Write Crap

I’ve discovered over the years how much being a teacher’s pet was detrimental to my writing habits. The majority of my teachers from third grade on all fawned over and praised my writing even when I put little to no effort into what I turned in. This quickly taught me that I didn’t have to put effort into my writing. I could write whatever I wanted at the very last minute, not even bother to do a quick edit, and pass with flying colors.

College changed that a little bit. Surrounded by other people who were capable of stringing two good sentences together, I started to have to actually pay attention to what I wrote and do a least some cursory editing. Even then, I found I could get away with a lot.

But, when it comes to my novel writing I know that if I have any hope of even trying to get published, I need to write something that will hold up against some of the best writers in the world—at least enough to be placed in the same bookstore. I have to admit it—more often than not that idea totally paralyzes me. I was trained from too young of an age that I didn’t need to put any effort into my writing to be successful (in the classroom), so the idea that I could put all my effort into my writing and still not be good enough makes the idea of trying almost too much.

In school, you write to please your teacher. You write each essay with your professor in your head, taking what you’ve learned from their lectures about their opinions and preferences and you write accordingly. That’s what I’m used to doing.

When it comes to writing my novel, I’ve learned that I can’t do that. I have to forget the possible editor, agent, or bookstore shopper who may one day read these words. Thinking about them—at least in my first draft—cripples my writing. Whatever I do get on the page is stifled and self-conscious. So, I have to forget them. I have to write as though I’m the only person who is ever going to care about what is written. I have to just let the words come out of me and not analyze them, not worry about how good or bad they are, but just enjoy the process of getting them on the page. That’s the only way I can ever get my first drafts written.

As a student, I wrote without caring because I knew I could get away with it. I knew my least effort would be good enough in my high school where people struggled to understand the function of a paragraph. As an amateur novelist, I have to write the same way because that’s the only way I can write. That’s the way I’ve learned how.

Afterwards, I can deal with cutting out all the crap.