4 Nov 2014

In one sense, writing is dirty work. Drudge work. There's some slave master over you, which is the story, and whether it's got a whip or not, there you are, digging, sweeping, sweating, possibly not eating or sleeping well, and all you're supposed to do is write the story down. Actually you've got to get it down right. Because if you don't see it enough, and don't look enough, and dig and sweep and brush properly, then you might have more re-work than necessary. So you sweat to do it as right as you can the first time. And it can be a long, lonely job, if it's a long piece. But you put in as much time as you can so it won't take longer than it needs to. And the entire time you're not sure how the reader and audience will like it. But you discover the story and you write it as is, and as best as you can. And you believe in it. 

And finally after you're done that first excavation and report, you then have to back out and go away for a while. And take a break when the last thing you wanna do after all that work and getting to the end is go away and take a break. But you have to, to recuperate and to be able to come back to the written report with fresh eyes and fresh spirit. 

And you come back after some time, and you review the whole report—the written form of the story. (Because the story is the story—it's not the written work. The written work is only your best job of putting the story into words.) And with fresh eyes and fresh spirit, a cup of fresh coffee (or many cups), you go through the thing from start to finish. And at this point you've got to see it from a new reader's viewpoint. And make sure it's clear enough, and most importantly that the story comes through. And cut what's not the story. 

And then finally, it's ready to be presented to the very First Reader, that special someone. Or a few. And you might be exhausted, and you give it to them, and you probably don't care, but you always do care. 

You know that the story is there and we're ironing this thing out so it's a final product and ready for the world. 

Long trip. Work. Not a walk in a nice park. Although it may be exciting and fun to write, whether slow or fast, it is work and it's dirty work. No one is catering to you. It's all on you and for a long time you're alone in the whole thing. 

Alone that is, except for the company of the people in the story. In the story world you're there, you're with the characters and you're being characters. But in this world, the world we all live in, you're alone for some time. And that's the world we all count as real. The story world is real only to you—to you, yourself and you, as the writer, while you're writing. And that real-to-you feeling had better be powerful enough to carry you through. Because after the end, you just never know to how many others it will become real.