|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Revising is when it may hit you. Revulsion. The feeling that all this stuff you have written is stupid, ugly, worthless -- and cannot be fixed. Disgust. Nausea hits some people at the beginning of the revising process. They have successfully produced pages and pages of words, fast and furiously, or perhaps (unaffected by my preaching) they pondered every word and continually corrected as they went along. But either way, when they turn back to revise, they find nothing of value in all they have written. Nausea doesn't usually hit me at the beginning of revising. I seem to be cheered and reassured just by having managed to produce a pile of writing at all. Besides, I haven't yet put lots of work into the words. Nausea hits me most at the end. I have taken a piece of writing through the entire writing cycle days and days, perhaps weeks or months. I have revised with great care: gotten into messes, gotten out, cleaned things up, made new changes, and again cleaned up the mess. Finally I am done and I am making a few final corrections or else typing it over when now, after all that work, I find myself completely revolted by my piece of writing. It seems wrong, stupid, trivial and irredeemable. Especially after all that work. It almost seems as though the more I have invested in it, the more likely that these feelings will hit me. But I have finally learned that nausea need not ruin everything. If you are a victim you can learn to fight it in various ways. First of all, recognize it for what it is: a stupid game you play with yourself, a sneak attack by demons, a bad habit. Gradually you will learn to see the pattern in it, a trick your feelings play on you as they try to keep you from being effective. First the demons try to stop you from writing at all. If they fail, then they try to stop you from making some passages strong. If they fail again, then as a last ditch effort they try to trick you into thinking that what you have is garbage. They try to trick you either into throwing it away in disgust or else into taking the whole thing apart again and thereby luring you back into the swamp where you will finally give up in exhaustion. Once you come to understand the pattern of this recurring nausea, you can deal with the feelings: do a freewriting in which you let go and tell how disgusted you are by everything you've written and how worthless it all is. When you give the feelings full rein, it's easier to see them for what they are. Or you can scream or cry the feelings out to a friend or a mirror or a closet. And it may help to turn back to some already completed writing of yours that you know is good -- to reassure yourself of your powers. Finally, learn to be prudent about what you do to your writing during these attacks. Acknowledge that when these feelings are upon you, you are in an intellectually and emotionally weakened condition. Don't let yourself engage in taking the whole thing apart again for major revising even though your feelings say, "This thing must be completely done over, it's worthless." That way lies the swamp. Settle for cut-and-paste revising or quick revising. Get done. Don't make any major changes. Get rid of what's absolutely impossible, sweep the extra pieces under the rug, touch up the blemishes, and wipe up the blood and be done with it. Have the courage -- the wisdom, really -- to settle for something less than terrific, perhaps even something second rate. If you insist that everything you write be your best work, that tells the demons they can shut you down whenever they feel like it. Besides, suppose it really is as terrible as your feelings say. It's still a mistake to use thorough revising when you are beset by nausea. To go back and unleash the chaos of major overhauling would make sense only if you have lots of time and a deep commitment to the piece. Yet if you have time and commitment there's no point in revising now. You'll do much better to put it all in a drawer and forget about it for a week or three. When you come back to it you may discover it doesn't need thorough revising, or if it does, you will have the fresh view and energy you need. Now when your mind is clear you can make a simple rule to cling to later when your mind is clouded: never do major revising when nauseated by your writing.
|
|
