“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a shitty first draft. I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it.
 
– Anne Lamott”

The real work of writing is rewriting. That’s been said so many times by so many people: and yet it seems there are many writers who still don’t know it, or perhaps believe it. Or maybe simply don’t want it to be true.

But it is true. A good writer is not someone who sits down and effortlessly (or even with great effort) makes the story happen perfectly the first time out. If that’s what you aspire to, you are doomed to disappointment and, as Anne Lamott says, a lot less fun. A good writer is someone who wrestles to get the story down in first draft as well as possible, and then begins the real work: the rewriting.

Here is some of what rewriting entails:

Put it in a drawer. Seriously. For at least a week, although two is better and four to six is more realistic. It takes time to separate from that adrenaline rush of I finished! It feels so good! I am the most genius writer who ever lived! But separate you must. Part of the joy of a first draft is the experience of living the story, feeling it come alive in your head and heart. Rewriting requires the ability to step back and look at the story from the outside as well as the inside.

Take an honest look. Read it. Whether you’re a first-time novelist or a seasoned pro, you’ll know there are places your story isn’t working. You’ll see it, or you’ll feel it: the characters are wooden, the dialogue is weak, the plot wanders off down a dead-end trail.

You may not spot everything that needs fixing: that’s part of the long-term learning process, and is why all writers need competent readers and/or editors. But every honest writer knows their work isn’t perfect right out of the box. If you think yours is, then either you really are the Most Genius Writer Who Ever Lived, or you have not yet learned to see your own work clearly.

This kind of honesty is hard. It’s one of the ways in which writing hurts. Learning to accept that no matter how good you get, you will never write a perfect first draft, is one of a writer’s most important lessons.

Prioritize the problems. Every writer works differently. Some work on structure first, and then go back and look at character development, or dialogue, or description, etc. Some prefer to take start at page one and do all the fixing in a more linear way. There is no right approach — but it’s very important to be clear about what you think the most important things are that need fixing as you engage with the text. If your protagonist’s emotional arc is weak, don’t spend countless hours on researching what that little town in Texas really looks like so you can describe Main Street perfectly. That kind of “perfect” gets you nowhere.

Staying focused on what’s important can be hard, because generally the weaknesses of a first draft are the also the weaknesses of the writer: the more you write, the more you’ll see your own first-draft patterns. It’s human nature to be reluctant to engage with our own weaknesses. Writers are often prone to a kind of superstitious behavior: If I just get that Main Street thing right, this baby is going to rock! I’m really sorry (grin): the fact is, it only rocks when you fix all the saggy bits, not just the ones that are easy or fun.

After we learn to accept imperfection in our work, we have to learn to engage with it. And that means engaging with our own imperfections as well. Writing is never just about the words: it’s always also about the writer.

Do it all again. Because once is generally not enough.

Get external feedback. Find a writer, teacher, mentor, editor or writing group you trust, whose judgment is professionally competent and who can point to specific examples and make specific and helpful suggestions. Writers need multiple perspectives on their work in order to grow.

This can be a particularly hard step: no matter how much we tell ourselves that we know it’s not perfect, it’s no fun to be told by other people that we’re right. But do it anyway. It will make your work better.

Go fix it some more. This is why they call it the work of writing…

And have fun, too. Because, as Robert Frost says, “Only where love and need are one / And the work is play for mortal stakes / Is the deed ever really done.” So love your work, and play hard. And remember it’ll never be perfect — but it needs to be the best you can make it. It’s not in the perfect you’ll find your joy, but in that best, because the best doesn’t just happen in an afternoon in a single draft — it takes work. The best doesn’t come come in spite of all the attention to detail: it comes because of it.

Posted by: Kelley