It's OK If Your Writing Is Crap

I've been a writer for a long time (more than 12 years actually), and I learned an important lesson today. And that is that if you look at something for too long, or too many times, eventually your eyes start to glaze over and you can't tell left from right or up from down. And then...well then you start fixing things that don't need to be fixed.

I've experienced this phenomenon in the past when I've worked on tough copywriting assignments, but in a slightly different way. On occasion I've worked on something for so long that I got to a point where I wanted to literally wring my own neck, poke my eyes out, and squirm out of my chair. Because I couldn't look at the words for one second longer.

In those situations I send it off for a new set of eyes and then jump from my chair, slam down the computer screen, and go do something else for a while.

But working on a book is so different. For one, it's way longer. So trying to read the work from beginning to end just doesn't happen in one sitting or in one day. This inherently makes the editing process much harder when you're looking at overall cohesiveness.

Until this week, in all of my copywriting days, I've never edited something so much that I started changing things back to the way they were before, or fixing things that maybe didn't need fixing, or started thinking the entire work was crap. When this began happening and then continued for two days in a row, I finally emailed my editor. She told me to close the file and send it to her. So I did.

I've often read about how writers will start to edit their work to death, nit-picking it apart until they've completely edited out the essence of what it was. And I didn't think that I'd do that sort of thing. I mean, I thought I'd be way more aware of my editing activities so that I could successfully avoid that pit. And then I found myself in it.

I'm glad she yanked me out.

So now? Now I sit and wait for her to read through my book and tell me if it's total crap, sorta crap, half crap, not too bad, promising, or pretty good. And I think under normal circumstances (or perhaps if I were still in my twenties) I'd be on pins and needles about this, biting my nails and compulsively hitting refresh in my email application. But I'm proud to say that I have a healthy detachment right now. Because I'm thinking:

• If it's mostly crap, I'll just rewrite the parts that are crap until it's not crap.
• If it's sorta crappy, then I'll have less to fix in order to get something that's not crap.
• If it's promising, then I'll be almost to the finish line and can rework the minor crap.
• If it's good, then I'll be satisfied that I don't have to do any additional work and can get it out the door.

The point to remember is that even if something is crap, it's not the end of the world. Eventually the finish line will be the same if you keep working at it: it'll get out the door. The whole "is it crap or isn't it crap" is more of a timeline, really. Because the first draft is certainly crap, isn't it?

"But wait," you say, "what about all those stories I abandoned years ago? Aren't they crap?"

Well, yes, they are. But they wouldn't be if you kept working on them. You stopped at the "this is still crap" point in the timeline. You could keep going if you wanted to.

Know what I mean, Vern?
(I'm channeling my inner Ernest P. Worrell.)