Step 0: Make
coffee.
Step 1: Figure
out what the heck actually happens in the story you haven’t written yet, even
though you’re the type of writer who figures out the plot as you write.
ààAfter Step 1 is unsuccessful, find something else useful to
do, like clean your room or the kitchen. Sit down to rest, feeling that at
least you accomplished something.
ààààThen, it’s Monday and time to go back to
work. Work hard all week, then try again with Step 1 the next Saturday—after
taking Friday night off to watch Netflix, of course.
Step 1, Take 2:
Start writing. When everything sounds cheesy and wrong, send it as an e-mail
attachment to your friends, who later confirm that there are numerous problems
with the plausibility of the story, just not the same problems you saw.
ààAdd coffee. Start over.
ààààWhen the result is terrible, print it
out, because hitting the delete button on a computer just doesn’t provide that
satisfying paper-crunching sensation, and you are, after all, a
traditionalist. Crumpling wads of paper
also reminds you of movie montages in which five minutes of failing and then
trying again leads to ultimate success, which is reassuring.
Step 1A: Make
cookies. Eat them.
Step 1B: Make a
project playlist. Get lost on iTunes...
ààAccidental online shopping detour.
Step 1, Take 3:
Start writing again. Fight urge to go all Office
Space on work laptop.
ààBaby name website detour. This is okay. You are searching for
a new
character
name. This counts as work.
ààààAdd coffee. Are there any cookies in the
house?
Step 1, Take 4:
Write another draft. This one’s got to be it. You can feel it.
ààWrite blog post instead.
Step 1, Take 5:
Write another draft. This has to end sometime. Might as well be today.
Send out as an
email attachment. There will be more revisions, but for now, you are allowed to
watch Netflix without feeling like a failure.
(ààMake more cookies.)
