A reader writes: "I find the geographic separation strategy wonderful. I use the park bench (grass is always an inspiration, not to mention trees). I always, always, combine it with a treat. Usually Starbucks and if necessary a cookie as well."
Another reader writes that the letter "makes my Monday morning." And I'm taking that as approval.
Newsletter 4: January 28, 2008
Approx 650 words - I’ll be brief, but feel free to read quickly anyway.
Don’t get it write, get it writ (or wrote)
-attributed to multiple authors
I apologize again for the fun we had last week when, because I was using a beta release of the mailing software, you received two versions of the newsletter and even then you never did get my final carefully-edited version. Another release of the software arrived today, but I think I should hold off, don’t you?
So let’s get to it. Not long ago I said we would talk about perfectionism and this seems like a good time to do it.
Two of the benefits of a deadline:
1. it encourages you to eventually start writing.
2. it encourages you to eventually stop writing.
When writers are working for newspapers, magazines or shows, they simply have to turn something in or there will be blank pages and dead air. I’ve talked before about the newswriters I know who simply laugh at the idea that there might be such a thing as writer’s block.
And so they stop polishing. They stop wondering what if. They turn it in.
It's the same in all writing. If you don't share it, it doesn't exist.
You know that sense of relief or cleanness or whatever it feels like to you, when you've put your work in the mailbox and no matter how bad it is, it’s too late to worry?
That’s a feeling worth having. Not just for itself, but much more importantly because it tells you you’ve brought something to completion.
I’m writing this now, and not doing something else, because I like to mail these messages on Sunday night California time so that they reach British and American readers alike on Monday morning. “Making your Monday morning” means something to me. If I feel the letter's imperfect, hey, the truth is that it always will be. If I sent it tomorrow or next week or next month it still would be, and the only difference is whether I keep or break my commitment to you. Writing is like home decorating - you're aware of flaws that nobody else may ever spot. Do they matter?
I’m not telling you to be impulsive. It is true that your story gets only one chance to make a first impression. It is true that the writer get only one chance to make a first impression. It is true that it’s often a good idea to put your perfect typescript away in a drawer for a month and then perfect it. But a moment comes when you must share it with an editor, otherwise what did you write it for? Don't let that moment pass.
A second thought about perfectionism is to keep writing through the Wall. There’s a creative project I’ve been working on for weeks. I arrived last week at that familiar place where I know it’s useless, know I’ve written embarrassing trash, know in my bones that I should abandon it and start to develop this better idea that just came into my head. But I also know from decades of experience that if I did switch to another idea, I’d have the same feeling about it in a few weeks, end up with two projects unfinished and have nothing to show for it all.
So I kept going, ploughed through the loathing, and after just a couple of days I had a reworked document that I was rather proud of. It is much easier to rewrite than to draft. And I still have the other project waiting in the wings.
Something you can do today: If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing. And so’s the next thing, and so’s the next thing. Complete it and move on.
Something else you can do today, if you feel like doing me a favor: forward this newsletter to any one friend, enemy or relation. The presence of readers is what keeps the letters coming.
David
David Jung McGarva
+1 (818) 707 1871
Write me: david at todayiwrite dot com
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