I mentioned a possible pitfall earlier:
“When I’d get back into writing, one trap I used to fall into was accidentally stumbling upon these huge 40 video series about writing while doing research. Then I’d feel like I need to watch every single one of these videos, or I might be writing without some critical knowledge. Of course, by the time I was done with the videos, my writing spirit had dwindled away, and I began to realize I’d learned less than if I would’ve just written during that same time.”
There’s such a wealth of authors out there sharing information about the craft, it’s overwhelming. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s a blessing that they’re trying to pay it forward. And I’m self-aware enough to realize I’m doing the same right now. But one could spend their entire life researching how to write … without actually writing.
The devil of it is, taking the art of writing so seriously that you research the heck out of it without actually writing … is a great way to fall woefully behind your peers.
When people write every day, their output is surprising, staggering even. And they’ll still learn most of the lessons in all those “How To” books on your shelf. They’ll just do it in a more organic way. What’s more, they’ll learn things those books couldn’t have possibly taught them, like how to develop their own specific style, or how to maximize their own output.
Many of my peers have written circles around me.
I’m not going to pull punches here: I take writing seriously enough that I’ve made it one of my main hobbies. It’s something I think about all the time. But I don’t actually write much. That makes me a wannabe, hanging out with writing crowds while not having any skin in the game. I’m full of book knowledge, but I have very little practical field knowledge. (That’s a key reason why Brainy Smurf was the most annoying Smurf.)
Like blacksmithing, painting, or swordplay, writing is a craft that can be learned, certainly can be apprenticed, and can never be truly mastered. As we write, we inevitably end up with products that are uniquely our own. Styles develop best when we spend more time in the trenches.
Blacksmiths must feel the heat on their face and the sweat in their palms as they bang metal into shape. They must feel the impact of the hammer and build up their strength and hand-eye coordination, just as writers must shape words and train their ability to tell stories. Reading books on blacksmithing is nice, but it’s no substitute for the real thing.
The Smurfs who keep the village running know how to roll up their sleeves and do. Without the “profession” Smurfs like Farmer Smurf, Carpenter Smurf, and Chef Smurf, the Smurfs like Vanity, Clumsy, and Sneezy would be in serious trouble.
Now I’m sure Hefty Smurf has read a book or two on weightlifting techniques, but he doesn’t let that get in the way of doing what he does best, and he has the muscles to prove it.
It’s great to research how to write, but don’t be like me (or Brainy) and go overboard, or else entire villages will be erected around you while you’re still researching how best to get started.
Totally agreed. Whenever I pursue something new—kettlebells, running, drawing—I fall into the trap of learning as much as I can before even taking the first step. This also applies to my writing as a form of procrastination. But we have to remind ourselves that sometimes we need to actually take action. Anyway, thanks for this post!
LikeLiked by 1 person