I don’t know a writer who doesn’t struggle with this. Tell me if I’m wrong: you sit down with the blank page and a little sizzle of inspiration, but before you can get the first paragraph out, your inner editor gate-crashes the party and offers unsolicited comments like Really? You sure about that semicolon? Do you actually know what that word means? And before you know it, the razzle dazzle that got you going has sputtered out and you’re bickering with yourself about third person versus first person perspectives. The solution isn’t psychological wizardry – it’s thankfully more straightforward than that. Here are few ways I’ve learned to out-manoeuvre the inner editor.
Read
‘Fill your ears with the music of good sentences, and when you finally approach the page yourself, that music will carry you.’ —Dani Shapiro
Just like music moves a dancer, reading moves a writer. Keep your notebook handy when you read, because the best ideas often come when you loosen your mental grip and engage with someone else’s writing. I always find that my best ideas bubble up to the surface when I’m in a reading headspace, which is often more receptive and imaginative. Reading to research your project can be inspiring and help you shake off the jibber jabber of the inner editor.
In his stellar book On Writing, Stephen King says, ‘Reading is the creative center of a writer’s life … Constant reading will pull you into a place – a mind-set, if you like the phrase – where you can write eagerly and without self-consciousness.’
Walk
‘Language is like a road, it cannot be perceived all at once because it unfolds in time, whether heard or read. This narrative or temporal element has made writing and walking resemble each other.’ —Rebecca Solnit
Whether it’s in the wilderness or on local trails, moving your body through nature is one of the best ways to spur the flow of ideas and enjoy freedom from the censorship of the inner editor. Rebecca Solnit has written a whole book about writing and walking, called Wanderlust. She says that ‘thinking is generally thought of as doing nothing in a production-oriented society, and doing nothing is hard to do. It’s best done by disguising it as doing something, and the something closest to doing nothing is walking.’
In her memoir The Chronology of Water, Lidia Yuknavitch says, ‘In front of you, just the ordinary day, which is of course your entire life. Like language. The small backs of words. Stretching out horizonless.’ Maybe walking helps us create finite and sequential paths through the wilderness of thoughts the same way language does, so we can pluck small stones from the mountains of experience to tell a story.
Find your sweet spot
‘From gazebos to turrets and bee houses to baths, writers need their space.’ —Charlotte Peacock
Legendary New Zealand author Patricia Grace says in From the Centre that she loves writing by her lounge window, where she can take in the view of her garden and native birdlife. Booker Prize winner Eleanor Catton says she writes fiction on the couch and then edits at her desk. Back garden sheds are also very popular. Mary Oliver and John Steinbeck built their own primitive structures that had just enough room for a desk, a chair, and a stack of books (with nowhere else to sit, which discouraged unwelcome visitors). Or perhaps like Hilary Mantel, you don’t like to be tied to a single space. Notes were central to Mantel’s process and she wrote them everywhere – cars, buses, waiting rooms. ‘All the world’s a desk’ was her motto. Experiment until you find a place where your inner editor is least likely to find (and interrupt) you.
Find your best time
‘I remember Salman Rushdie telling me how he gives it the first energy of the day. As soon as he gets up, he goes to his office and starts writing. He’s still in his pajamas. He believes there is a “little package of creative energy that was nourished by sleep”, and he doesn’t want to waste it.’ —Cal Fussman
Embrace the time of day that the inner editor is usually off duty. For many writers, this is usually early morning or late at night. These peaceful transitional times are free from the pressures and distractions of the daily grind. James Baldwin wrote almost exclusively at night, finishing at 4 a.m., while others – including Jack London, Earnest Hemingway, Ursula Le Guinn, and Toni Morrison – made a habit of working in the pre-dawn hours. I’m in the latter camp: the quiet, the coffee, and the freshness of morning make it my best time for writing. It’s probably mostly the coffee. Honoré de Balzac had it right: ‘coffee is a great power in my life.’
Don’t backtrack
‘Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen.’ —John Steinbeck
Stay with the proverbial rabbits and see where they go. Clean up the mess later. Backtracking in your writing stops the natural flow of ideas and gives the inner editor too much traction. Rough drafts are raw material; they’re not meant to be polished or finished yet. Then when you do eventually read your drafts of early chapters, use a gentle touch. It may all fit together later, once you know your characters, your setting, and the intricacies of the plot better.
After a first pass of tidying up the language, it can help to leave the copy-editing of your manuscript to someone else. We’re our own harshest critics, and it’s common for authors to delete good writing in an attempt to make it better. Let a fresh perspective guide your next draft, and leave your manuscript in the hands of trusted editor. You’ll get the chance to revise and rewrite – just make sure there’s enough there to work with.
Get in touch to learn more about whether the editing services I offer are a good fit for your project: sophie@wisewordsediting.com
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