Most of my adult life I’ve used an original NordicTrack cross country ski machine. I love it, but I remember how ungainly and uncoordinated it made me feel on first try. It reminded me of learning to ride a bicycle; I practically fell off a couple of times until I got the knack.
There was a nice new “Pro” model at my health club, but I never saw anyone on it, even when the other machines were jammed with users. One day I asked one of the trainers why. “Because they don’t want to look bad.” He had a point. The membership was young, and trendy singles filled the place after five, strutting their stuff to the opposite gender.
Once I saw a cool looking dude step up and give it a try. One or two silly-looking wobbles and he glanced around the club to see if anyone had noticed. Then he stepped off–probably for good.
Are you the kind of writer how doesn’t like to look bad — ever? When you freewrite, do you take care to make sure your freewrite is neatly written in complete sentences with transitions, and so on? Do you strut your stuff as a writer, even in “the foul rag and bone shop of the heart?” (W.B. Yeats)
More pointedly, who is it that you want to look good FOR? An idealized self, or some authority figure you long ago internalized? If so, you are barking up the wrong tree: they aren’t there.
It’s often true that writers whose personalities tend toward Always-On or Always-Perfect resist losing control, even in their private freewrites, and it’s not hard to see why: writing ugly feels too much like a betrayal of the self they’ve crafted to show the world.
Persona writers get by on style for years–often they are columnists and feature writers, letter writers, commentators, essayists.
One day they discover that fiction implicitly demands a deeper engagement with fantasy, spontaneity, even vulgarity–hallmarks of the unconscious. Style won’t get them there because in fiction writing, to “get by” means only that you won’t write anything unacceptable.
The great breakthrough for writers like this is the moment they can feel okay about stripping off the formal wear, slipping on their most comfortable ratty old gym outfit and starting to sweat. That’s when you rediscover the old alchemical principle that there is power in the mess—that to make gold, you start with muck.
If you want to write a better novel, start training yourself to enjoy making messes and playing with the messes you’ve made. Do this especially in the early part of your process, which is marked by discover and development. I would even advise “slobbing” right through your initial rough with no care for niceties.
Don’t worry: no one will ever see what you don’t want them to see. And of course there will be plenty of time later to clean it up later.
|
|
|
|
|
![]() |









{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Timely article for me as I’ve been struggling with my rough/first draft of a project that jumped on me. I don’t know the characters really well yet, and they are getting to know each other as well. In writing I’m feel like I’m writing boring filler details, not exciting plot points.
For about three days I’ve been telling myself the same advice over and over: Editing comes later, you get to choose what goes in, and this way you get to meet your characters.
But I still struggle with “wanting to get it right the first time”.
A very encouraging post. It’s applicable in my life for the writing and for the gym machines. Get messy!
Really good post!
I like to keep my notes fairly tidy but at the same time writing drafts is important. Personally, the best way for me to do it is to get a notebook and if I have an idea write it down, it doesn’t matter how messy the text is, how many times I scribble words out, the main thing is it is always there in one little notebook.
It’s a tried & true method that’s worked for centuries. What counts is that it works for you. But occasionally something new or different will work even better, so it pays to look around and remain open.