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Freewriting

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The Freewriting Process

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eBook Write Out LoudIt’s a few years since I brought out my eBook, Write Out Loud, on freewriting, and people ask me if I still write that way? Am I still freewriting? Hmmmm, do ducks still swim?

Of course I am. I don’t know how to write any other way.

The thing is, when you start a writing project you have to begin somewhere and freewriting is a great way to find that somewhere. The first word has to go down, followed by the second to make up the sentence. You may have a rough idea of what you want to say in the body of the piece, or you may have no idea where you’re going when you first start, but where ever it is, a start must be made. Getting those first words is even more pressing when you’re on a deadline.

If I’m writing nonfiction, I might start with research and let that suggest a few angles. For instance, I was recently asked to write a short piece on home insurance. What do I know about home insurance? Being ‘between homes’ I don’t even have insurance at the moment.

But this was a general interest piece for an estate agency (real estate) website. I didn’t have to consult experts, mention particular brands or focus on any one aspect of the subject. I just had to write an SEO article around the general subject.

I started with research and went to one of my favourite hunting grounds, the BBC News website. At this point I had no idea what I was going to write. I only knew I had to write something. I’d said I’d do it. I had a deadline. Between now and then an article on the given subject had to come out of my keyboard.

When I’m writing nonfiction I need a starting place before freewriting can work its magic. Freewriting prompts are great for fiction, but I find not so great for nonfiction at the beginning. On the BBC website I found my starting place within minutes, and a few minutes later, having scanned a couple of articles on the subject, I had enough knowledge to fire up Scrivener and begin freewriting.

I don’t fret about structure at this stage. I have a little corner of my mind on the clock – I’m on deadline remember – and if this writing is going to be profitable to me I can’t afford to tinker and angst over word choice. I trust my freewriting muse to deliver to goods, and with my general subject in mind I just start writing.

And from that point on I let it go where it wants. All the time I’m subconsciously giving it a little direction because the research I’ve just done is fresh in my mind. My muse has plenty of fodder to draw on.

One paragraph in and I’m rolling. A structure of sorts begins to suggest itself and I let it run. What I don’t do is make alternative suggestions to my muse, or worry about whether it’s be the best structure. It’s a structure. That’s all I need. Let it grow and see what happens.

What happens is this. The more I trust my freewriting muse the more it delivers to me. Words are there when I need them. Sometimes the best words don’t pop up until the last minute, and that’s okay too. It’s the popping up that counts, not the moment when they do so.

Having been given a great ending line, right at the point when I hit my given wordcount, I stop writing. Close Scrivener. Shut the laptop. Go and have coffee.

My first draft of the article is in the bag and what I need now is a little distance from it. When I come back, which might be an hour or so later, or given the lead time it might even be a day or so later, I read it with a fresh eye. 9 times out of 10 I’m happy with what I got and don’t need to do more than tighten, correct typos, check for SEO (which Scrivener is great for – see here) and alter accordingly.

For the article in question, my great line at the end was actually a lousy place to end. It was too sudden, had no element of conclusion and left the reader hanging. Not good.

I sort of knew this as I was writing, but because I was freewriting, and this is what you do when you’re freewriting, it had to go down. Always remember, freewriting is first draft stuff. A fast way of getting the ideas down and controlling the internal editor.

When I went back after my break, I realised my rotten ending made a perfect beginning.

It was a couple of minutes work to shift that ending up to the start and rejig the transitions so it read smoothly. A little editing in the body reduced my word count, and having done that tidying up I was more able to see the finished structure and add an ending that rounded off and provided a proper conclusion.

I could have sat for a couple of hours at the start, fighting with myself to find the perfect beginning. I could have refused to start until I had the structure planned out and the ending firmly in mind.

From experience I know this way of writing doesn’t work for me.

I found my perfect beginning only after I’d almost finished. What became the opening sentence of my article was actually the last one I wrote.

In freewriting this happens time and time again. It’s a process you have to learn to trust, and you can only learn to trust it if you try it out for yourself.

I’m not saying freewriting like this works for everyone. We all do things a little differently from each other. But it works often enough, for enough people, that if you haven’t tried it yet, you maybe should.

Finding Your Writing Process

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A lot has been written about the process of writing – how you go from initial glimmer of an idea to the final draft – and for good reason. It’s one of the things that most bugs new writers, and most fascinates many more experienced writers. When you’re starting out, you wonder if you’re doing it right, and when you’ve been at it a while you’re curious about what processes other writers use.

For those just starting out, the question of whether or not you’re doing it right, whilst valid and, to some extent, unavoidable, is a question that can never be totally answered.

There are as many different answers as there are writers. We all do it a little differently from the next person, and we’re all right. It’s getting to the final draft that matters, not the route we take.

Having said that, there’s something very reassuring about reading about the writing process of someone who’s further along the road to success than you are. At the very least you can, maybe, learn to streamline your own process if you’re lucky enough to find someone who’s work pattern is already similar to your own. At the very best you can discover that other more widely published writers take a route that’s just as meandering and repetitive as your own. Very reassuring.

The important thing is that you don’t let another writer’s writing process totally derail your own.

This has happened to me in the past. I’ve read a workflow that sounds really good, efficient, clean and organised. I’ve thought it was something I just had to try. I’ve abandoned my own process and adopted the new one – with mostly disastrous results. Disastrous because I’ve had to study how they did it to make it work for myself, so I’ve wasted precious writing time. I’ve had to, in some instances, recopy notes already written in order to make them fit into a new pattern, and I’ve even had to get new software and learn how to use that before I could proceed. And in the end, just about every time, I’ve eventually abandoned the new process and gone back to the one that is uniquely mine.

Just occasionally I come across a writing process/workflow that really does help. In case you’re curious, the best ones I’ve found recently are the totally fabulous writing app Scrivener (which all mac users who write really ought to have, and which I was so sure would be the right one for me I actually bought a mac so I could use it), and which I now use for all my writing, the diary system used by David Hewson, and the notebook used by Antony Johnston.

I’ve always made copious notes about what I’m writing, including plot progression ideas, character sketches, motivations, questions to myself and my characters, reasons and consequences, and I’m more inclined to follow Mr. Johnson’s method of having one notebook on the go at a time, rather than a dedicated notebook for each separate long project/novel. I’ve never tried MacJournal, as used by Mr. Hewson but I am tempted by his latest idea of the private, online novel blog diary and may give that a go.

These two examples of successful author’s processes help rather than derail my own writing process because they expand on methods I already use – namely the notebook and Scrivener. With my notebook, I have tended, in the past, to leave my notes in there and eventually lose them in the plethora of random addresses, phone numbers and shopping lists that also get noted down. But if I adopt either the online diary or the extended use of Scrivener as described by Messrs Hewson and Johnston I should, theoretically at least, not lose track of my notes again.

I don’t think I’ll ever be totally cured of my curiosity towards other writer’s working methods, but hopefully I’ve learned over the years what works best for me and can now pick and choose which new methods I take on board.

The very best advice? By all means read how others do it, and learn from those who’ve gone before, but ultimately follow your own instincts and do what feels best for you. And never, never, ditch a working method half way through a project unless your present writing process just isn’t working and you’re starting again anyway.

Should You Write Every Day?

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notebookPhoto by jking89

Should you write when you don’t want to?

Everyone’s heard the advice to write every day. I’ve even repeated it to writers myself, but I’m wondering if it’s really good advice after all.

Most writers start out writing because they enjoy it. They do it just simply because they can and because it gives them a sense of satisfaction and fulfilment. It’s why I started writing, and why my exercise books in school consisted of several taped together by the end of term, whilst most people were struggling to get half way through their first. I just loved to write and wrote at every opportunity.

Back then I had no notion of writing for money, or writing to please someone else. It was just something I did, and if it pleased me it was good enough.

Because I had so much enjoyment in my writing, I wrote on most days. But I never felt bad or guilty for the days when I didn’t. I never once got anxious that if I missed a day or two, or even a week or two, I’d struggle to get back into it or have to relearn some writing skills.

If you don’t write everyday, unwritten crap doesn’t build up in your head. You don’t have to get all that garbage down on the page before you can writing the good stuff again. Once you can write well, you can write well at any time no matter how long you stay away from it.

You might get rusty. You might find your ideas don’t flow quite as smoothly or as fast as they did when you were writing every day. But you won’t necessarily have to write rubbish before you get to the good stuff.

The biggest danger in not writing every day, especially if writing isn’t your living, is that it’s harder to start again after a break.

Being such creatures of habit, if we allow the writing habit to get broken then that precious half hour we’ve got into the habit of stealing from each day will become elusive again. If you’ve missed two weeks of writing, it’s only too easy to let yourself believe another day won’t hurt.

That’s the biggest danger in not writing everyday. Losing the habit. Not losing the ability to write.

So, should you write everyday?

I’m no longer going to say yes. I’m going to say, if you like. If you want to minimise the danger of writing becoming something you used to do but no longer find time for.

But also if you still find it enjoyable to write every day.

If it’s become a chore, if you no longer enjoy it, then give it a miss. Walk away from it. Do something else for as long as it takes.

Writing is hard enough without making it a punishment.