Writing
Write Better, By Not Writing
Step away from the desk to find what readers crave
To get better at writing, we must write more — right?
Not necessarily.
Writing often and consistently strengthens our ability to craft words into readable prose. Taken too far, though, and the urge to create can keep us strapped to our desks constantly chasing wordcount goals.
It’s a recipe for burnout, and it’s a recipe for bland writing.
I left a novel unfinished last week because I could tell the author’s heart wasn’t in it. Other readers may also put the book down, but won’t realize why the the book didn’t grab them.
But there are ways to infuse our writing with details that keep readers coming back for more.
Far and away, the best scene I had written in my first novel came directly from a firsthand experience.
Before sending the piece to my critique group, I hesitated.
At the time of writing, the scene had poured out of me in a glorious burst of energy. But when faced with actual readers, I wondered if the words were just silly and self-indulgent.
What I never expected, though, was the glowing responses from my critique group.
Each reader identified with the protagonist, and felt the emotion in the scene. They loved it. One reader said they could tell I had enjoyed writing it, because it was as if I was reliving every detail.
Since this was a fiction critique group, I sheepishly admitted that it was based off a real-world experience.
That’s when I learned my first big lesson as a writer: Fiction is made up, but it should always be based in some truth.
What readers crave
Words on the page are more than just the execution of writing, they convey an idea. Without that underlying thread of truth, the writing falls flat.
Readers crave authenticity, relatability, and connection.
They can always tell when the author has particular insight on a scene. When a writer brings their personal experiences and emotions onto the page, the words come to life and stay with the reader long after the book is closed.
When the author has fun, the reader does, too.
We’ve all seen this sort of advice for nonfiction, but how does it apply to fiction?
Think back to the last piece of fiction that resonated with you. Was it a sensory detail that brought the setting to life? A perfectly captured awkward encounter that made you laugh? Or did a frightening passage make you feel like you were there?
Whatever it was, the reason that writing struck a chord within you was because the author tapped into real emotion and detail.
Maybe they’ve been to that location, had that awkward encounter, or witnessed something that made them feel as vulnerable as their protagonist.
So here’s how to find better ways to connect with a reader.
New experiences
Travel is one of the first things that comes to mind when mentioning new experiences, but this isn’t a call to digital nomadism.
Right now it may not be possible to take a vacation to a far-off locale, nor is it necessary. New experiences can be found right in front of us.
Get outside. Pay attention to the sights, the sounds, the smells. Local parks can be full of detail we’ve never observed before, and they’re great for people-watching. Or, walk the streets of your city to catch a glimpse of the lives of others to find inspiration.
Take a road trip. A day trip to somewhere I haven’t been before is a great way to kickstart my powers of observation. When everything is new, my senses come alive. Plus, there are lots of little towns with obscure histories that might be perfect fodder for a novel.
Start a new hobby. This is a great way to feel vulnerable, but it’s also how to learn a new skill. Readers get bored with yet another protagonaist who is a writer — make them a woodworker, glass blower, or beekeeper instead. It’s easy to forget there are entire industries behind certain hobbies, and those little details of authenticity make writing feel more alive.
Achieving flow
Ask a writer about their flow state and you’ll see that faraway sparkle in their eyes. We all want it, but sometimes it can be hard to find.
A flow state is when an author’s fingers fly across the keyboard, the words seeming to come out of nowhere and spilling onto the page in coherent and magical ways. For some authors, it feels like transcribing a movie playing in their head.
In this state, there is no time. Four hours can feel like a minute. Catch a state of flow after work and you might find yourself looking up at 10pm starving and wondering how it got so dark.
But during those times that each word is a struggle, it can be tempting to wonder if there’s something wrong. Where is the flow?
For me, this is how I recognize that I need a break.
When I’m struggling, I’m forcing the words. They aren’t authentic, and I’m probably not connecting with the reader.
That’s when to step away from the computer. I take a walk, watch a movie, or find something else to do.
Sometimes I only need an hour or so to reset, and sometimes I need a couple of days and a little more inspiration. I get up from my desk and head outside. A good day trip will have me eager to get back to my keyboard.
Forcing a state of flow is a waste of time, but creating the conditions for a good session will make that elusive state of being a little more likely.
Creativity needs refilling
I listen to a lot of writer podcasts. (Any suggestions? Drop them in a comment — I’m always looking for new perspectives!)
Everybody’s chasing after that state of flow. But what do we do when our normal tricks aren’t working?
One piece of advice that comes up constantly is the idea of “refilling our creative well” from the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.
The concept is simple: creating is draining, so we must find ways to refill that energy.
Like the suggestions above, Ms. Cameron suggests taking ourselves on “dates” to art museums and other locations that spark our curiosity.
Letting the brain rest and focus on something else is often the surest way to find your work-in-progress knocking at your consciousness with a new idea.
Sometimes we need more than a short break, and sometimes we are trying to run on empty. The only way to pour more of ourselves onto the page, to keep our readers engaged, is to keep feeding our writer curiosity. Think of it as self-care for writers. Necessary self-care.
Readers want authenticity in what they read. They want to connect with the characters and feel that the book understands them on a basic level.
Putting that much of ourselves into our writing is the only way to make that connection, but it takes a toll.
Word counts and progress will always tempt us, but it’s important to remember that instead of focusing on counting the words, we must focus on making those words count.
