3 Tips On When Writing Gets Hard

Discretion: contains some strong language

For most authors, the editing process is the most soul-crushing part of writing. I know it was for me when I first arrived at it. What do you do when writing gets hard?

You take this thing you’ve worked on, spawned it from your mind, and sprawled it across the page with fancy scribbles, and you think it’s brilliant. There’s nothing better than this and it’s yours. It’s your creation. This book has become your baby, and  It’s the best thing you’ve ever written at the time. You feel proud and ready to share this with the world.

Then reality strikes. (There’s always a “but.”) As you share it with others in hopes of improving your writing, it soon becomes apparent maybe it’s not as good as you thought it was. The bubble pops. You see its flaws. Then you’re told all the old adages. Show don’t tell. Use Passive voice, and the list goes on.

Soon your story’s not so good anymore. You’re ashamed of this “best thing you have ever written.” It doesn’t feel any good at all. Discouragement takes a hold. You falter and begin to feel you may not be cut for storytelling. You’re ready to quit. Sound familiar?

So what do you do?

Sounds a reasonable enough question. For a while, this was a hard question for me to answer.

During the editing process of my short story, I had no idea what I was doing. Like above, I crafted this story I thought was great, but in reality, it stood utter garbage. The strain of having it picked apart hurt and demoralized me. I said to myself after this was over I never want to do this again.

Suddenly, the spark was gone. The passion for storytelling faded. So what do you do when you feel you have lost the spark? 

So here’s some insight from a still fledgling author on maintaining and rekindling the love of writing.

Managing your expectations

Yup, I went there. I didn’t say it would be easy, but hear me out.

Let’s go back to our example of the editing process again. It’s very easy to get discouraged here.

First off, nothing you ever right is perfect. Nor will it ever be. It’s a hard truth.

The first draft of everything is shit.

Ernest Hemingway

I don’t know how I can say it blunter. As writers, we must keep the right mindset in with this. If we don’t, we set ourselves up.

Here’s another one. You will have some flops. The writing industry is built off of failure and rejection. Publishing houses literally hire people at this position as gatekeepers. In other words, that’s their job. Not everyone can succeed unfortunately.

But you ask, what about self publishing?

Same thing. It’s just up to a more show of hands. The world decides whether they read you, not a company.

Here are two more sobering truths. Sadly, not everyone will like everything you put out, and you can’t please everyone no matter what.

Again, I’m not saying these to discourage anyone. It’s when we take these truths to heart and move forward with them that we protect our spark.

Seeing the whole picture

Too often than not, we focus on our failures. They stay at our foresight, yet we are blind to the accomplishments all around us. Recenter around what you have done. Enjoy the life you have around you and don’t loose sight of it.

When writing proves difficult or a chore, you have two options. You can power through it or put it down and come back, but the second’s risky. I’ve done both.

Now I’ve said the second’s risky. Why? Well, if you’re anything like me, and I hope you’re not, you’re lazy. Many people are. My high school auto tech teacher used to always say “there are three things that always take the path of least resistance: water, electricity, and high school students.”

So if you put it down, there’s the chance you may not pick it back up. For me, I’ve gotten chapters into a book written like 35,000 words plus and given up. Rather than celebrating how far I had come and taken pride the massive commitment that I had made, the idea of the “waste” just consumed me.

In reality, I had relished every second writing that story. Why should I be complaining? I met my goal of writing every day for three months and never practiced that much in my life.

Not all failures are meaningless, and don’t lose sight the good all around you.

Kurt Vonnegut gave an interesting lecture and ended with a note I found interesting. His advice feels almost in bitter contrast to the themes of his stories. In case you weren’t aware, this is the man who wrote Slaughterhouse-Five. I’ll let you view it for yourself.

Having an outlet

What I have to say here branches in two different directions so bear with me.

Frank McKinley wrote a good article on this.

“Just because you’re confident doesn’t mean you’re bulletproof. Grieve when a painful rejection comes. But don’t build a nest in that feeling. Give yourself a time limit that will help you process it for what it’s worth. Then move on to the next thing.”

Frank McKinley

The first part of having an outlet is releasing the pain of rejection, but not staying there. It’s having an outlet for coping, but the second is finding one to move forward.

If you are really serious about pursuing a career in writing, you got to treat it one. If you want to be an author, prove it. Otherwise, let the spark die and move on.

Remember that I said you had two options. The risky one is putting down and not picking it up again. Don’t get me wrong taking a break can be beneficial and healthy, but you need to decide whether you get back up or not.

Rekindling

So far, must of my post discussed practices to protect your outlook on writing, but not much on rekindling it. This is where the second kind of an outlet kicks in.

I highly encourage those who feel their fire going out to reconnect with what got you started in the first place. Somewhere along the way, you must have felt in love with a story. If it’s sci-fi, enjoy it. Go find something that inspires you and makes you hungry to write more. Then come back. This is a positive break.

Find a way you can relish in you creative outlet. Make writing fun not something to dread or work.

For me, I got into Critical Role then slowly D&D in general. It was game. My dungeonmastering wasn’t a hefty burden, but a way to enjoy time with friends. And you know what? I was inspired. I wanted to write again. It nudged me over the 40,000 word threshold that stopped me before. as I was writing.

I feel I could wager that picking yourself back up with the right mindset and knowing the stakes of what you are up against, should you face those challenges head-on. Again being relatively inexperienced, I don’t feel in the position to offer advice. What I can say is what’s helped me, and help somebody else.

Conclusion

The bottom line, only you can decide whether a writing career is for you or not. If you really want it to go for it. Fully realizing the uphill battle ahead can help you face failure because let’s face it. Writing is hard.

Now matter how you can prepare failure is an option. Rejection letters are part of the industry, and regardless how much you prepare, they still hurt.

Take it from me. I’m a 21-year-old guy who lives at home, works fast food, and plays D&D twice a week. I think I know a thing or two about rejection. I’ll be crashing and burning more than a North Korean missile test. Rejection sucks.

Therefore, don’t be afraid to celebrate the little victories. Manage your expectations, but hold fast to that determination. Find and outlet for your feelings, but don’t stay there. Get back up and try again. Only when you never try do you really fail because those failures prepare you for the road ahead.

It’s an underdog story, but as writers we like those.

“Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”

Theodore Roosevelt

Lastly, stay connected to the entertainment that inspires you. Let your creativity blossom from it. The fires only if you let them.

So that’s all I have for you guys. If you any suggestions for future content or have similar experiences leave a comment below and let me know what helped you. Check out the Tavern for more D&D content. Thanks for reading.