rewriting, rewriting, rewriting.

"In those early pages and chapters anyone may find bold leaps to nowhere, read the brave beginnings of dropped themes, hear a tone since abandoned, discover blind alleys track red herrings and laboriously learn a setting now false."

-Annie Dillard.

It takes a lot out of any writer to be forced to part with their words. It takes courage and faith to let go entirely. It's necessary however to move forward.  The real writing process begins with a draft.  The first copy you show to another human being, the first soul crushing edits you receive, that is where progress is made and where great stories are born.

That's not to say threads can't be saved to bind together new ideas. Perhaps a few sentences from a page are what's left after the edits, whole paragraphs even.  It won't be easy but it will be helpful.  Once you've reached that ninth edition of prose it should look nothing like the first draft you wrote in the wee hours of the morning.

It can be hard, but its best, once finished, to get up and leave your work. Let it steep and give yourself a break. Go back to it, read it out loud, read it in funny voices, read it to your stuffed animals. Then sit down again and be honest with yourself. Was that description necessary? Could I have written a stronger opening? Is that character too flimsy? DON'T LIE, you're only ruining your work.

Just like people change, stories change. From day one to day 67, your characters may undergo some major personality altercations, your themes may not wish to be straightforward and weak, and you yourself may not wish to ever see the same words on a page for fear of going insane.

So in short, no one will ever write perfect first words. Thinking so will only weaken you as a writer and as a person. So delete, scratch out, or throw away what you thought was gold and rebuild with courage that you did not just throw away the best story ever written, but you will soon be much closer to it.



http://theamericanscholar.org/endless-rewriting/#.Ut2UsWasEy4

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The Writing Life by Annie Dillard

Burn Down the Barn

Charles G. D. Roberts wrote both prose and poetry, and is often referred to as the Father of Canadian Poetry. This gentleman offered inspiration and assistance to other poets of his time in order to get his name. Roberts was born and raised in New Brunswick, and both his brother Theodore Roberts and his sister Jane Roberts grew up to be authors as well. "But what's this have to do with barns?" I can almost hear you saying it now.

                A poem that Roberts wrote by the name of "In an Old Barn" caught my attention the instant I started to read it. Check it out here.

The poem immediately drew on my sense of peace, for the scene seems very quiet and comfortable. Things feel natural in the setting, as they’re away from the bustle of the outside world. I began to ponder however, after finishing the poem. The scenery changes to outside of the barn, and we get a view of a cold and desolate outside. The barn represents not only a sense of peace and security, but also a mental wall that we erect, blocking out all that disturbs our internal paradises.

Sometimes our barns aren't as beautiful as we once thought.

Shani Mootoo’s essay Poetry Lesson quickly began to take up much of my thought after this. Her essay speaks of how poetry is a gift when we find it without seeking it out. The paths we take in life offer us many chances of finding poetry, but many of which passes us by. We need only open our eyes to the world around us, and soon we will find our minds filled with the dancing words and emotions we call poetry.

As soon as you finish reading this, I want you to stand up, take a step outside – even if it’s the dead of night – and find something about it you love. Stand no further than two steps from your door. Guaranteed you can find something that will trigger a response. Who knows what you’ll find? The world so close around us offers us so much beauty to take in and love, but we’re all too focussed on our personal ‘barns’ to see it. Stand up, open the door, and breath your life into the world. You may just find your muse.