Wait, How Many Drafts Do I Have To Write?! Part I
My messy couch, and a realist's guide to starting a book (or other major project)
Hello friends!
It’s almost February! I’ve been hearing about good things abuzz in the universe for a lot of y’all out there, and I am loving every minute of it. Send me your triumphs! Or setbacks! I want to hear it all.
For the next few weeks, I’m going to write about how to undertake a book project (I think it applies as well to a dissertation or other major project, but I’ll use book as a shorthand). Next week, I’ll share some thoughts about planning, how long it all takes and how many drafts you should plan to complete before the book is in the world (probably about 7!). Today, though, I want to talk about the start.
I’m taking a writing class right now from Janelle Hanchett that is brilliantly entitled “Write Anyway,” and so much of what we talk about in there resonates with what I talk to all of you about all the time (also, being in a class that someone else preps and teaches is amazing and I cannot recommend it enough). A lot of Janelle’s inspiration is woven into this week’s post. How to make sure that work gets done, and that we show up for all of the other stuff that matters, without losing sight of ourselves. For me, that’s one part heart/ stubbornness/ commitment to the process (what I’ll talk about today) and one part just making a plan and following through (next week’s topic).
Life is a mess
I talk to people all the time about how to start writing a book. And I always tell them the same thing:
This process will take you about six months to a year. If possible, it would be good to find a cabin or a place in nature so that you can minimize the distractions. You should wake up in the morning, make sure that your desk is clear and full of distractions, and plan to put in a good five hours of writing each day, aiming for about 2,000 nicely written words, or about 10,000 words a week. After each chapter, pause to make some minor edits that you’ll pass on to your assistant to retype (it’s great if that person is also the one making you tea and thinking about meals so you don’t deal with those distractions). Then you send it off to your publisher, and poof! You have a book.
That’s easy enough, right? We’ll just all Thoreau it up and the brilliance will travel from the tips of our fingers onto the page.
This is all a lie. I have never told anyone that, because, alas, that world does not exist. Since everyone shares pictures of their workspace on social media these days, here is the space that I am writing in today:
Let’s see: spinny cat toy, toddler art, baby high chair, a cloth napkin (I bought a set in my attempt to live sustainably, but they all got coopted as baby blankets so we’re back to paper), my silk scarf that was used last night in a touching stuffed animal wedding ceremony, the only blanket I’ve ever crocheted, a cozy throw from Target, a tote bag from the last concert we saw that now contains goldfish, three books, a sea life puzzle, my sweater, a kid sweater, a basket of semi-matched gloves, flowers that have passed their prime, my jacket, which somehow didn’t make it to the hook on the door, an umbrella (which is broken, and yet not thrown away), and a third blanket that was used to construct a post-wedding-ceremony fort. Also pictured are my very hip tie-dye pjs (which I might just wear to pick up my kids), slippers, and laptop, wedged with me in the corner of the couch.
So much for a pristine writing space to focus the mind! Creating an ideal writing environment is never going to be my thing. And raw talent is definitely not my thing. But do you know what I am very good at? Working hard, and coming back to projects again and again.
You’re a writer if you write
So look: if I wait for the perfect time to write, it will never come. There will never be a moment where my schedule opens up, the house cleans itself, my finances are perky, and the universe whispers in my ear “now is your time. Write and it will be wonderful.” As of today, no agent is calling me and offering a million-dollar advance so I can just focus on putting words into the universe (I’m open to it! Call away!)
So I—we—have two choices. We can decide to wait for that magical moment to happen, which will mean we never write. Or we can decide to push the mess aside and start writing.
The truth is, I don’t want the cabin in the woods (maybe for a week, but not for always, which is why you should come write with Mirya and me in Mexico City in May!) I want my loud, messy, complicated life, and I also want to write and help other people write. I refuse to believe I can’t have both.
And most importantly, I want to convince you that you can write too, no matter how chaotic and messy your life is. As we’ll talk about next week in more detail, writing a book is a many-year commitment. Some people can sprint, but for most of us it’s a long, meandering, sometimes wonderful and sometimes painful, slog.
Y’all, I have grown two entire people inside my body and taught them to exist as humans in the world in the time it’s taken me to write my second book. If you flip to the acknowledgements section of your favorite new book, they all say something like “I’d like to thank the members of the 2015 workshop on ‘Invertebrates in Cinema’ for reading the early chapters of this work.” It’s a long commitment. May as well start now!
On beginnings
When people come to me and ask for help writing a book, I talk to them a lot about planning, and the process and what to expect and how to scaffold and spend their time. But when they ask me “so, how do I start?” I tell them this: “just start writing.” (Clearly you see why I make a living doing this kind of work).
But I’m serious! Most of us are academics, which means we love the research and the reading and the thinking and the outlining and the planning that goes into writing a book. But also, you also have to write. Not every day, but a lot, especially at the beginning. You need to write things that don’t make sense, write your way into corners and through puzzles, explain a lot more than you need, get into arguments with yourself on the page. You need to write this way so you can find your voice—find the expert, the “you” who is writing this, and you give her a “why,” the purpose behind this book as opposed to anything else that might exist in the world.
And look, if your book is meant to be in the world, it will get written. And now might not be its time. You might start writing today, and then put it aside for a few years because it’s a book that needs to be written by future you. And you also may have a project languishing on your hard drive that you couldn’t write five years ago, but now is its time.
But—here’s the thing—you actually have to do the writing part. You have to blow up a protective balloon around the writing time, so you have the space you need to do the work. And then, once you’re in the space, you have to do the work.
So, what are you writing? And what does your writing space (really) look like?
xoxo
Kelly
Obligatory housekeeping/updates
You all continue to keep me busy, for which I’m always grateful and slightly stunned at my good fortune. If you have a project in the works that could use an extra set of eyes, here is what things look like this spring. If you and I have chatted about getting on my calendar, you’re factored into this mix, though it never hurts to circle back around to check in.
Writing Retreats: Know where it’s not snowing and covered in ice? Mexico City. Our Mexico City retreat is filling fast! It will be held May 20-25, 2024. We’ll be closing applications in early February. Start your summer with Mirya Holman and me in Mexico City, blocks away from Frida Kahlo’s house, getting all of the words written. Apply here.
Editing: I have room to edit new books starting in late April and this summer. August and September are filling up, so if you are the type who plans ahead, now is a great time to pencil in a spot for the end of the year. I have more availability for articles, grants, job materials, and things like that, and the sooner you tell me the more likely it is I can guarantee you the turnaround you need.
Coaching: I have no more spots for long-term consulting relationships this spring or summer, though I can schedule individual meetings here and there (if you want to talk about an R and R or your book proposal, we can find time to make that happen!). Again, if you’re the planning type, now is a great time for us to touch base about coaching this fall.
Writers’ Circles: These are full for the spring and underway! Watch this space for future opportunities.
In the Pipeline: Save the dates for a mini-AcWriMo the last two weeks in April, and an all-day, minimalist writing retreat on April 19.
Also! I am going to have exciting news soon about expanding the Epilogue Editing team to offer new services that I think will be particularly useful to international scholars, including drop-in editing hours and proofreading services (two things I don’t currently offer), so stay tuned for that information in February!
Finally: If there are things you’d love to see offered or written about, don’t be shy! Take my very short and painless survey and let me know. I’m using this information to develop my next courses!