On Letting it Run

Sometimes, we sit down to write with a pretty good idea of what we're going to do.

We know where the scene is headed. We know what our character is supposed to say. Maybe we've outlined the entire story and know exactly which beat, scene or chapter is supposed to come next.

And then we start writing.

Suddenly, a conversation goes on much longer than we expected. A character does something we hadn't planned. We find ourselves writing pages of backstory when we're supposed to be moving the plot forward. Or the voice we're writing in starts to sound different from the one we've been using all along.

And there's often this instinct to stop ourselves.

Wait. This isn't where I'm supposed to be going.

But what if, at least for a little while, you didn't stop?

I think one of the most important things we can do when we're writing a first draft is give ourselves permission to follow what comes. If you want to strengthen your creativity, you have to learn to trust it. And if you want to trust it, you have to be willing to play with it.

So, if an idea comes to you, write it out. If a character suddenly wants to do something you hadn't planned, follow them. If you find yourself telling the reader the story instead of carefully constructing scenes, tell it. If you suddenly hear the story being narrated in a different voice, let that voice speak for a while.

You aren't committing to any of it. You're finding out why it showed up.

I think that's an important distinction, because we're doing something pretty remarkable when we write. We're creating something that has never existed before. That goes for fiction, memoir, personal stories—anything we're creating from our own experiences, perspectives and imaginations.

And creating something original requires venturing, at least partially, into the unknown.

Of course, that doesn't mean you can't plan. If you have a strong sense of your story, write it! If plotting scenes, beats or character arcs helps you move forward, use them. Structure can be incredibly helpful.

Just don't be surprised when the story you actually write doesn't fit perfectly inside the story you planned.

Because how could it?

The story you imagined before you began is necessarily going to be less complete than the one you discover after spending thousands of words inside it. As you write, you're going to understand your characters more deeply. You're going to see connections you couldn't have anticipated. New conflicts, motivations, moments and possibilities are going to emerge.

That's your creativity speaking to you.

Listen.

I think we sometimes imagine writing a manuscript like laying railway tracks. We know where we're starting, we know where we're going, and our job is to keep laying track in the right direction until eventually we arrive.

I'm not sure creativity works that way.

I think it's more like following a trail you can only see so far ahead. Sometimes it turns unexpectedly. Sometimes something catches your attention and you wander away from the path you thought you were following. Sometimes you discover that the destination itself isn't quite where you thought it was.

But you're still moving through the story. You're still discovering it.

And most of the time, what comes out of those little detours will be valuable in some way. Maybe that unexpected scene actually belongs in the story. Maybe it gives you insight into a character or conflict. Maybe you come back to it later and realize it doesn't belong at all—but it helps you see where the story actually needs to go.

That's not wasted writing. That's discovery.

Whatever you call the thing you're creating alongside—your creativity, your intuition, God, the Muse, the Universe—I think there's an element of co-creation involved in writing. We bring our ideas and intentions to the page, but then something happens when we actually begin putting down words.

The story starts talking back.

If you want your writing to feel more playful, more freeing, perhaps even a little more effortless, you have to be willing to loosen your grip on the reins sometimes and let those horses run.

You can always come back.

You can always revise.

You can always decide that the original plan was better.

But first, give yourself permission to find out where your creativity wanted to take you.

You might discover the story you were trying to write all along.

Wishing you and your stories all the best,

Trevor

P.S. You don't have to make it perfect on your own.

One reason I think we can put less pressure on ourselves while we're creating is because the first draft isn't the end of the process.

Editors aren't only there to fix commas and polish sentences. The right editorial support can also help us look at the development of our stories—what's working, what isn't quite landing yet, and where there may be opportunities to strengthen what we've created.

If you're curious about the different ways you can get that kind of support as you move toward publishing, I'm joining FriesenPress for a free Demystifying Self-Publishing webinar on Wednesday, September 9, from 6:30–7:30 p.m. CDT via Zoom.

We'll talk about self-publishing and hybrid publishing, the support available to writers, and what those different paths can look like.

Plus, one attendee will receive a free manuscript evaluation valued at $499.

Join us for Demystifying Self-Publishing