Easy words and hard words

[msagara]

matociquala makes a good point here about her books. The one thing I wanted to talk a bit about is this (although she's dead right about accruing debt, i.e. don't):

The funny thing is, when you go back and read it six months or a year later, you can't tell the difference between the bits you slogged through, cursing every word, and the bits that came out as if Odin himself was feeding you the lines.

There are one or two whole books that I've written in which there is just so much struggle to roll the boulder uphill that I develop a reflexive cringe response to the text itself. All of the parts that I actually like are the parts that were not such bloody-minded struggle, and I am convinced that the book is an abject failure because there were not enough of those parts to support a book. It takes me about two to three years to forget the experience of actually writing the book, so it takes me about that long to be able to read and parse the words that are actually there, as opposed to the words that I'm terrified are there. Which is another way of saying it's hard for me to reread anything I write until I've forgotten the writing of it.

(Yes, this makes revising and editing a big strain, because I am frequently changing words that I hate into, oddly enough, more words that I hate, with no certainty that the changes actually do anything useful. But waiting 2-3 years to revise a book would be a bit problematic.)

But matociquala is right. When I've forgotten the struggle to put one word in front of the other in a way that approximates a native English speaker, I can't actually tell which words were the ones that I struggled for hours on, and which were the words that came easily and naturally, as if they were an act of grace.

This implies strongly that there isn't, in the end, a difference. And for the people who weren't mired in the writing, this is probably true. Although it can be true in the "these are all good" or in the "these are all dreadful" way; the point is, the words that are a total, fun-sucking slog do not, in fact, stand out from the words that weren't, regardless of how one feels about the book.

The difference while writing is this: the words that come naturally and easily are words that are easier to trust. They do not automatically feel like garbage. They do not automatically feel like they're full of fail. It is easier to find the shiny bits and point at them and feel, somehow, that we've done something good. There are so many little insecurities and struggles with the ever-smarter Internal Editor while writing any book, that anything that somehow makes the words seem decent and worthwhile makes the book easier to write. People who feel that they need the inspiration or they write crap might not, in fact, be writing crap when they are not inspired -- but their perception of it counts.

Because when it's a slog, it is definitely Not Fun.


(Yes, I am in the middle-of-the-book. Why do you ask?)

ETA: This, I realize, should come with the usual disclaimer: This is me, talking about my process, and my finished books. Other people's process will probably differ widely.

Comments

[nagasvoice.livejournal.com]

I've hesitated to post much of arejoinder, because butting heads with somebody on their process vs. your own is pretty useless, but it seems like it's steamrollering everybody. This doesn't work for everybody. I'm not saying my way works either, since it's clearly not productive enough, in some way I'm fighting myself.
That said, I understand very well the idea of plant the tush in the chair and just do it. Possibly too well. I found my slogging bits often weren't as good. They kept reading like slog, even months afterward. I was inclined to go pedantic, more inclined to explain too much (and as you can tell from my lj posts, when I say pedantic, oh boy...) I also get interrupted too much, I get dragged away by other demands too much, and can't remember what I was doing when I come back to it.

I'm more inclined to wave off trivialities and drive for what matters a lot more when I'm in the grip of an idea with the Muse hammering away with all cylinders. It's not easy to sustain that one for me. That can be Not Fun in the sense that "a character bashing you against the wall for 18 hours until you get it all down in one long unbreathing swoop" is not what most people call *fun*. Also, not real useful for functioning at work or in other aspects of your Real Life the next day or three.

[difrancis.livejournal.com]

Um. Yes. And Yes yes yes Amen, Huzzah and oh, yeah, exactly, ditto ditto me too me too.

The book I just finished was a slog. And in revising, I did exactly that--replaced the words I hated with more words I hated. I absolutely cringe at the thought of this getting to market. I think in November I may hide under a rock.

But then there's that opposite feeling, like when it's easy it can't possibly be good. And when it's hard it's not good. So where exactly does that leave us?

Di

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

One of the latest horrible lessons I've been struggling to learn is that the easy, shiny, passionate-spew words can still be all crap.

Everyone's mileage varies, of course.

[ttallan.livejournal.com]

I'm sure it will not surprise you to learn that I feel almost the same way about making a comic (I refer mostly to the drawing process here; my writing process hardly feels like a process at all these days). Most days are just me struggling over ever little line, and the only way to get through it is to hope it all works out in the end. I occasionally have days where I feel like I can do no wrong at the drawing board, and wow, they are magical!

Sadly, telling a long story in comic format is a slow slog. I think I will be in that middle-of-the-book phase forEVER. (Sigh.)

I'll have to get back to you on how many years of remove it takes me to see my comic objectively, though. I don't seem to have reached that point yet...