Once upon a time, there was a writer…
Whoa, hold on there. Wait one darn minute, mister.
Excuse me?
“Once upon a time”? Really? Where’s the originality in that? Surely someone who calls himself a “writer” can do better.
There was a writer…
Pa-thet-ICK.
Look, I’m just trying to…
“Was.” Passive verb, my friend. You should know this by now. Passive verbs suck. Spice it up a bit. Put some life in your words or you’re going to put your readers to sleep.
I appreciate your concern, but I’m not trying to write the Great American Novel. It’s just a blog post on…
Just a blog post? Attitudes like that are the clumsy sausage fingers pulling the Jenga blocks from the very foundation of literacy today.
What?
Here. I’ll give you a little help. Kick off the opening with something surprising. Like, “First she broke his heart, then she broke his kneecaps.” Or maybe, “Melinda dove into the water a girl, but came out a mermaid.” Wait, I’ve got it, “The tornado-ravaged mobile home park lay before them like a toppled Jenga tower.”
What is it with you and Jenga?
I like building things and taking them apart. And then re-building them. Sometimes I knock things down for the hell of it. And, no, this sort of behavior does not fit the clinical definition of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and therefore is considered perfectly normal. My therapists all agree.
Do all self-editors have multiple therapists?
Yes.
Well, thanks for your help, but I can’t use any of those opening lines.
Why not?
They don’t make sense. Not with the post I’m trying to write.
Okay, fine. What’s the topic?
It’s about silencing your self-editor when writing first drafts.
Ouch. That hurt.
You asked.
First drafts are the bane of my existence. They’re the windless sky to my kite of purpose. The decaffeination in my coffeepot of determination. The upside-down-shake of my Etch-a-Sketch hope…
Okay, okay. I get it. You hate first drafts. And you overwrite. How did you ever get to be an editor, anyway? Don’t answer that. Please be patient. You’ll get your say. Just not yet.
Fine. But make your first pass better this time, okay? I’m still feeling nauseous from the “Once upon a time” bit.
Then you might want to get a bucket.
You wouldn’t…
Once upon a time, there was a writer who couldn’t finish a novel because his self-editor kept interrupt…
I’m going to be sick…
…because his self-editor kept interrupting him before he could get the story on the page. But then one day, just as his self-editor was preparing to correct his spelling of “qeue”…
Arggh…ugh…please…gag…fix…urp…
…he kicked his self-editor in the groin and plowed on ahead. He wrote his story without stopping to fix spelling errors or labor over perfect words or even solve gaping plot holes.
…can’t…breathe…
And wouldn’t you know it? He actually finished that novel. And it was perfect.
Wha????
Kidding. It wan’t perfect. It was better than he expected, but there were still lots of problems. So…he helped his self-editor to his feet and said, “Have at it.”
Finally.
Feel better now?
I will after I fix your crappy post. Okay, first of all it’s spelled “q u e u e.” Now, about that “Once upon a time” thing…
Comments
12 responses to “Writer Vs. Self-Editor”
Thank goodness I’m a blogger and not a novelist!
Do bloggers have kinder, gentler self-editors? Hmm, mine is just as mean when I blog as when I write fiction.
Editors schmeditors! The groin shot worked for the male, what about the female? I think I’ll pull her hair. Reeellly hard.
Hair pulling should work. Or you could just threaten to take away her chocolate.
Great post, and thanks for the reminder. Sometimes I forget this which I hold so dearly to be true.
For the record, the reason I know the self-editor’s voice so well is because I haven’t been very good at kicking him in the groin when writing my own fiction. But I’m getting some steel-toed shoes so that’s about to change.
Great post. I’m terrible at finishing. Getting the first draft done without the self editing is not easy for me. But I need to take your advice here.
See above. I’m just the same. This is a classic case of “do what I say, not what I do.”
It’s “nauseated,” Mr. Self-editor. (Pet peeve.)
Writing = war with myself. I’d rather be an editor. Then I’m right and the writer is the enemy.
Very fun way to make a point. 🙂
Mr. Self-editor begs to differ on the “nauseous” vs. “nauseated” thing. He agrees that nauseated is the classically correct word, but has (somewhat reluctantly) come to accept that common usage (as it is so noted in most dictionaries) sometimes trumps correctness, particularly when the context suggests a casual conversation. Now, if this particular self-editor had an English degree, he might have chosen differently. But he’s a self-editor who likes to edit by the seat of his pants. Or so he tells me.
Regarding your comment about writing. Yup. Of course, the constant “war” between writing and self-editing has resulted in some pretty amazing novels. And some pretty screwed up writers.
Thanks for making me smile. It helped me to realize that I need to at least try to put up a fight against my self-editor. Maybe a good first step would be to lock up the thesaurus until the first draft is done. 🙂
Yes. Lock up your thesaurus. In fact, it’s probably best to keep it out of view most of the time. It’s fine to pull it out when you are pretty sure there’s a better word than the one you have on the page. I can nearly always tell when a writer has leaned too heavily on a thesaurus: the writer’s voice is uneven or unnatural.
Of course, if you can’t help but rely on the thesaurus when you’re writing your first draft, don’t fret too much…a good self-editor will call you on it. 🙂