Paradoxically, writing only gets harder the more you do it.
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You can practice for years.
I’ve been actively writing since I was 8, and I can say conclusively that it’s harder to write now than it was then EVEN THOUGH NOW I CAN READ MULTI-SYLLABLE WORDS.
You can dedicate several years of your adult life and thousands of dollars to undergrad and graduate programs, but writing only gets harder.
Don’t believe me? Here’s why:
When you’re a kid, a story is any weird string of words. Have you ever listened to a kid tell a story? They start out telling you that their grandpa is coming over on Friday, and wind up at how much they love pudding. And while those things are probably true, the story itself, sucks.
(Sorry, kids.)
But that doesn’t diminish the kid’s ease at vomiting out words. It’s easy for them.
When I was in the first grade, I wrote books ALL THE TIME. I don’t think any of these tomes still exist to this day, as neither I nor my parents are particularly sentimental. But I sandwiched copy paper between sheets of construction paper, stapled those bad boys, and then went to town with a pencil and crayons. I wrote so many “books.” I was prolific.
It felt so easy.
(Probably because these stories were like 3 words to a page with a very intricate crayon drawing to illustrate the point.)
But then as I grew up, I started learning about story structure. I learned how to construct a sentence for maximum impact. I learned literary conventions and pacing and word choice all played a part in everything I wrote, and I made allowances.
Even so, this wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back. Writing was still pretty easy.
In middle school and high school creative writing classes, we had to turn in a short story once a week. That’s a helluva writing load, one that college classes wouldn’t inflict on their students. But I hit those deadlines. Sure, it was draining, but writing was easier then. I still have some of those stories (they managed to survive the great notebook throwing out of 2017) and they spanned topics like dystopian junkyards, a man going crazy in a grocery store, an unconscious father on life support mentally recounting life events as his family cries in his hospital room, a young girl posing as a squire so that she can become a knight someday…
I wrote all of that and so much more.
And it was really fucking easy compared to the writing I do now.
The ideas are all still there, disparate and diverse.
But writing only gets harder.
The ideas are all still there, disparate and diverse. But writing only gets harder. Click To TweetIn college, I procrastinated. (In much the way I encourage my college students not to.) I waited until the day before a story was due for workshop, and then I’d bash one out. And, admittedly, it was never the best story in class. But it also wasn’t the worst.
And I could get away with that procrastination, because writing used to be easy.
Now, I can’t crank out a story in an evening. I can’t hear a song lyric and turn it into a plot line. I can’t watch a movie and use big chunks of it for my own craven purposes.
I don’t just sit down and dump my brain on the page the way I used to.
I have better taste now.
(Some of you who are more acquainted with some of my more colorful posts may disagree.)
I can’t write stories about dystopian junkyards, a man going crazy in a grocery store, an unconscious father on life support mentally recounting life events as his family cries in his hospital room, a young girl posing as a squire so that she can become a knight someday because these stories don’t align with what I want from my writing.
It’s not just writing anymore. It’s actually figuring out what I want to say, understanding the consequences and impact this will have, and how it will frame everything else I write from now until I die.
Writing only gets harder.
Sitting in a chair and bashing out words on a keyboard isn’t the hard part.
Sitting in a chair and bashing out words on a keyboard isn't the hard part. Click To TweetI’m saying that Writing, with a capital W, gets harder because it’s Writing with a capital W. It’s the bigger picture of what a writer does. It’s being aware of what writing actually means. It’s understanding who will take your words and how they will be used for years to come.
It’s not wanting your name associated with some garbage concept just because it’s popular at the moment or because it came to you or because it was easy to write.
(There are still things that are easy to write. Some things are so easy they’re out of my brain and on the page before I know it. But are they worth it? If you’ve been paying attention, you know they aren’t.)
Writing only gets harder because you know you’re capable of better prose, and pulling it out of yourself is like exorcising demons.
It’s looking back on the words that you put on the page, and making sure they mean exactly what you want.
This is why writing only gets harder.
The more you practice, the worse it gets. That’s what nobody tells you about practice. Sure, it makes it easier to complete the physical task of putting words on paper. But those words? They get harder and harder to bring to the page.
Writing only gets harder. Click To Tweet
Is it weird to say this was encouraging? Writing has become hard for me. It’s such a struggle to come up with the right words for what I want to say. I know there are other reasons, too, but you’ve put words to one of the problems I’ve been having without knowing how to express it. Thank you.
Thanks for reading, and I’m glad you found encouragement. At the end of the day, I think we’re all struggling down here in the word mines, even those of us who have been here for a long time.
I love this, both the little personal history and the acknowledgement that yep, writing (with increasingly higher standards) is hard.
I recently saw the reminder: “Hard writing makes easy reading,” something that a word-vomiting person like myself should maybe have tattooed on her bony hands.
Keep writing. I love it.
Thanks, Marie. And I love that quote–so perfect!