Over the years, I’ve accumulated a bunch of what I call ‘writing mantras.’ Aphorisms, quotes, things I’ve come up with, things I’ve read, things people have told me. And so this year, I’ll be posting on a semi-regular basis my favorite writing mantras. To kick off 2010, here’s perhaps the most powerful writing mantra I know:
As I recall, I first used the phrase in one of my online classes. A feature of those courses is a weekly ‘office hour’ session in which I get online with students for a live-chat. In this particular occasion, a student was caught up in the maelstrom of trying to write their story, discouraged at realizing they had to step back and retool what they had come up with before being able to move forward. And for whatever reason, these words emerged from my keyboard in response to their confusion and anxiety: Trust the process.
I don’t remember what I typed next. Knowing me, I’m pretty sure I went off on one of my ‘sermons’ – about how the creative process is an organic thing and more often than not a messy one, how some times a story just lays out perfectly for us, other times it’s like banging our heads against the proverbial wall to get any traction with our writing, and so on. But the important message from that session was this simple yet profound idea: Trust the process.
What does it mean? This mantra has many layers. Here are a few. In order to find the story, we have to give ourselves over to our creative process, a full and deep immersion. And if we feel the pull toward this character or that, then follow that instinct. If we suddenly see a new plot possibility, go down that road. If we hit a dead end, then trust that this is not a negative, but a plus because now we know we don’t need to come this way again.
Every step of the way is a step forward, even if it seems like a step back – that’s how it looks if we trust the process.
The process can ‘hold’ all the moods and emotions we experience along the way – joy, anger, frustration, giddiness, boredom, loathing, despair, hope – everything.
The process drives us into our Self to find ideas, feelings, and memories which we can bring out in our story, used in new and distinctive ways.
But the hugely critical thing is that we simply need to trust that process, believe that what we are experiencing in the prepping and writing of a story is precisely what must happen to find and articulate that story.
Over the years, I ‘preached’ this idea to my students – and frankly to myself as well in my own writing. Then I stumbled upon this: “Trust the Process: An Artist’s Guide to Letting Go”. I bought a copy of the book. Read it. Enjoyed it. Written by Shaun McNiff, the book explores a number of varying aspects of the creative process. Perhaps he sums it up best in the book’s introduction titled “Unpredictable Magic”:
“There have been so many times when I have given up, only to go at it again the next day, or the next year, and over the full course of a life all of the moments appear so purposeful or even necessary.”
Letting go. Giving up. There is a presumption that in order to trust the process, we need to – in some way – give up a certain type or measure of logic. Trusting in our creative process is a conscious decision, one we make over and over again in the course of writing a story, but often it is a choice based on a gut feeling or instinct rather than rationality.
But here’s the bottom line: Every writer is different. Every story is different. And every story’s creative process is different. Whatever the variations are from story to story, the core dynamic remains the same: We need to find a way to trust the process.
That’s the way we find the story.
That’s the way we write the story.
How about you? What’s your relationship with your creative process? Do you find it easy to trust the process? Does it flow naturally? Is it sometimes a struggle?
And if it is a struggle, how do you manage to find a way to trust the process?
I'd say the dialog from 28 Days best describes my feelings about the "process."
Viggo Mortensen:
What were you thinking about…think about the things you can control.
Research your topic, characters, locations, occupations, similar stories.
Writing/being creative is a struggle. Writers need to realize a few things:
1. Everyday isn't the same. If it was good one day, it be tough the next. THAT'S the hardest thing for me, but it's encouraging too, because I know what it's like to be stuck on something then experience the joy of coming up with a solution.
2. Perserverance matters. IF you call yourself a writer — FINISH!
3. It's okay to ask for help with story questions. I do it ALL THE TIME. I bounce ideas off people I trust to see if they like it or not, and I've also learned how to engage non-creatives and get them to contribute too.
The best thing you can do, if you call yourself a writer, is to commint to write a least an hour everyday. It'll add coherency to your writing. Try to avoid start/stops. Commit, then finish.
- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA
My problem is that I'm always stuck in outline mode. I never get to the writing stage because I don't want to repeat the mistake of winging it and then stopping at page 60.
I've been lucky that I've never had trouble writing most of the time. there are days which are difficult, but generally speaking I can usually get a page out whenever.
However,just because the actual writing part is somewhat easy to me doesn't mean it always turns out good. I'm semi confident that 2 out of my 6 screenplays are garbage…
I always find that if you're on a "writing roll" and everything is flowing to never waste that opportunity and ride that wave as long as it lasts–some great stuff has come out of it for me.
As EC said, you gotta persevere.
I always considered myself a writer, but I always found excuses not to write:
*Too busy
*Not inspired
*Not a good day
*Whatever… you can always find an excuse.
About 2 1/2 years ago, I found it was put-up or shut-up time. Since then, I've been committed to put in an hour a day (sometimes it's less). I've missed a few days here and there, but for the most part I get my ass in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard. In that time, I've written 7 specs (including 2 collaborations).
The process is do it every day… try different things… rewrite… look at it from different angles… make it better… up the stakes… sketch it out… don't sketch it out… get inspired from other writers, movies, real life, etc.
As Stephen King said, writers write.
@Eve Montana: Sounds like you have the opposite issue of most pre-pro screenwriters; where they jump into the story too soon – not enough time spent in prep – you get caught up in the prep mode, unable or unwilling to plunge to FADE IN.
In all honesty, Eve, I have been there. And I think most pro writers have. It's comforting to do research and dig into our characters and brainstorm plot ideas. You're ostensibly doing something that's tied to writing the story, and yet you're not committing yourself to anything.
But as you've discovered, it can become a trap.
Here's the thing: No matter how much prep you do, your first draft is not going to be perfect. In fact, it's quite likely it will be, as Hemingway famously said, a "pile of shit."
That leads to another writing mantra: "Writing is rewriting."
My advice? Give yourself a firm deadline when you're going to start your script. Email all your friends and declare that on this day, I am starting the first draft of my script.
Then – equally important – do not stop until you get through your first draft. Another mantra: "The only goal of a first draft is to get the damn thing done!" No matter if you're absolutely convinced that what you're writing is crap, press on. If you can't figure out a scene, write what you can, make a note, and go onto the next scene.
The thing is the very process of getting through the first draft is incredibly important. It's a way of breathing life into your story. Perhaps, if you choose to look at writing spiritually, it's as if by getting to the end of the first draft, you are demonstrating to your story that you are committed to it.
I don't know why, but for whatever reason, by getting to the end of the first draft, that specific process often answers story problems you've faced along the way. By the time you reach FADE OUT, you'll understand your story far better than you did when you started.
A personal anecdote. When I was about 13, my parents decided that I would take up golf. So I was shuffled off to weekly lessons with this crag-faced, stoop-shouldered, Marlboro-clamped-to-his-lower-lip buzzard of a golf instructor. In those few months I spent with him, he actually taught me more about life than golf. Here's one lesson: Whenever I putted the ball, he insisted that I never putt it short. Go long, never short. Why?
"Because you can't sink the God damn putt if you don't reach the God damn hole!"
The same with a spec script: If you don't write it, you can't sell it.
So Eve, my humble ol' fart advice: Set a firm start date, then start to write your script. And no matter what you think of your first draft, finish it.
FINISH IT!
Thus endeth my sermon!
[If you don't mind, I'd like to promote your post and my response to the front page of the blog tomorrow. Thanks.]