I’m a writer, not a sharer. I scribble down my ideas, then tuck them away in a file, drawer, notebook, folder somewhere. Never to be seen by anyone but me. Especially not a first draft. If I know something will be shared, I tweak and poke and prod and adjust until I feel like it’s better, then send it along with a caveat: “Hey, it’s probably going to need lots of work still. Go easy on me!”
I’m a writer, not an author. Putting my work out there is terrifying. It’s my own little world in my head, and what if I didn’t get it just right? What if people don’t get it—don’t get me? What if people read it and dislike it—or reject it? Querying means people see the words I’ve jotted in midnight pitch-black with my light-up-tip pen in my designated bedside notebook. Important people. Agents.
I’m a writer, not a marketing professional. Okay, that one’s a lie. I’m a marketing professional. But, I don’t market me. Because I’m an introverted person with serious impostor syndrome on my best days.
But, Writer in Motion gave me a chance to shove those feelings aside and just write, no consequences for a bad first draft. The first writing week, when we posted our initial draft, plot holes and all, was rough. My brain wouldn’t stop screaming, “You’re letting them read THAT?? It’s not done! You’re posting it publicly, on your blog? Yikes.”
But, it wasn’t so bad! People read it and left encouraging comments. It was rough, but there was promise.
By the time it came to my self-edited draft, I had a few ideas of what to do to clean it up. I had to wrap my mind around the idea that it was a short story. I don’t do short. I do long-winded and rambling, which is a bit tricky with an under-1000-word-count limit. But, guess what? I did something I tend to shy away from: I cut things out. Who cared about that weird, random flashback to a camping trip with the MC’s dad? How did that do any good in that moment? It was distracting. While it may be a part of a bigger story, all it did here was take away from the characters’ goals. Get out alive. No distractions allowed.
Sending the draft away for the CP-edited round brought back all the same “go easy on me” feels I know and hate so much. But, I lucked out. My CPs were super nice, encouraging, and gave me solid advice for what worked and what didn’t. It was a relief to see that their advice lined up with what I knew in my heart had to change, but didn’t want to tackle. Nobody called out my favorite lines and told me to slash them. Nobody said “Hey, you know, this could be a million times better.” Sending a draft to a CP? Not nearly as terrifying as I’d imagined. Instead, I got positive notes about which lines got a laugh, which lines were favorites, and how to adjust the sticky areas for more clarity. With the motivation-tank filled, I adjusted and braced myself for the next step.
Sending away to another set of eyes. The Editor Round.
In my head: Oh my god oh my god okay you can do this just send it go ahead it’s meant to be a little cliché so just send it and don’t worry they’ll be nice about it come on click send it’s all good you’ve got this don’t worry.
When sending to my editor, Tyler: Hey there! Here’s my silly, cliché, kinda ridiculous piece. It’s rough.
I went back to that place. That ‘make excuses just in case they have bad news to share, play it down and don’t let the excitement show just in case they hate it’ place. And, you know what? That was silly of me.
Tyler provided fantastic feedback. Where to tweak, where to add, and where to cut back. How to shuffle the pieces to make it flow a little better. Where to add some punch, and which sections were tailored just right to suck the reader in to the moment. They gave me the notes I needed to push through and draft a final version that I was excited to share with people. I was able to put it out there without feeling the need to add a disclaimer. No more Caution: Rough. Because, it wasn’t. It was polished. And, feedback since has been exactly what I was hoping for. The ending leaves the imagination crafting ideas and putting together an idea of what could have happened next. It’s The Lady, or the Tiger for the Netflix era. Okay, yeah, I know. That’s a bit of a stretch. But, there’s a little satisfaction in responding to “Wow, what happens next??” with “You decide.”
I work with an editor every week at work. But, that’s my day job. That’s non-fiction, factual. Not something I have crafted from the ground-up from a photo prompt. Sure, my work editor can make notes and hack-and-slash her way through my content. No probs.
But, you know what? Sending my drafted, re-drafted, and re-drafted piece to an editor wasn’t as terrifying as I’d expected. They sandwiched the praise within recommendations, keeping me motivated to finish edits—and maybe even continue the piece.
I’ll be participating in the next round, for sure. The group motivation was encouraging, the prompt got my creativity flowing in ways I didn’t expect, and the practice at getting feedback (and offering critiques, but that’s a post for another day!) was a great experience.
