Tom Rizzo, author of Last Stand at Bitter Creek, posted a bit of Ray Bradbury over at Linkedin the other day.
“Writing is not a serious business. It’s a joy and a celebration … If it’s work, stop and do something else.”
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Photo by Melinda Seckington via Flickr
My first reaction was to choke on my Diet Coke. My second was to clatter off a quick response: That’s like telling a group of older women that you never had hot flashes while going through menopause. I know because I’ve done something quite like that. I went to see Menopause The Musical last weekend with my mother, my sisters-in-law, and their mothers. And I innocently explained that I am not suffering, for which I was leered at menacingly. I was no longer one of them–I was…suspicious.
Anyway, writing can be work. Often. It can be hard work.
Bradbury himself said, “I know you’ve heard it a thousand times before. But it’s true – hard work pays off. If you want to be good, you have to practice, practice, practice. If you don’t love something, then don’t do it.”
Of course he explains that said hard work has to be engaged in what you love doing. I can agree with that.
Writing is, and frankly ought to be, work. Most of the time, that work is joyful, for me. Sometimes it’s positively dreary, and sure, it’s best at those times to switch to another project or get up and take a walk. But there are times in our creative process that slog. God, they slog.
The only saving action, for me, is to read what I’ve already got. Then I see that it’s a jewel, maybe rough, but it’s got so much potential. Heck, there are even sentences…or paragraphs!…that sing. This thing’s going to be great. If I could just get through this scene. What the heck am I going to do with this scene?
So, after muttering curses about men and how they all too often bliss their way through life not recognizing how hard it really is, probably because they’ve got some woman making their damn sandwiches for them, I decided to check out this Ray Bradbury quote. Surely Mr. Bradbury isn’t really saying that writing is pure, unadulterated joy (unadulterated by hard work).
And you’ll notice in Tom’s quote, there is an ellipsis. Damn those ellipses. You’ve got to really watch out for those little buggers. Here’s the actual quote:
“I want your loves to be multiple. I don’t want you to be a snob about anything. Anything you love, you do it. It’s got to be with a great sense of fun. Writing is not a serious business. It’s a joy and a celebration. You should be having fun with it. Ignore the authors who say ‘Oh, my God, what word? Oh, Jesus Christ…,’ you know. Now, to hell with that. It’s not work. If it’s work, stop and do something else.”
And this, I can agree with. Do the things (plural) that you love doing. But if you’re constantly carping over the smallest element of that activity (I’d call it work, because it is actually work–creative, rewarding, joyful work, yes. But work.), then don’t do it.
If you labor over every verb, frustrated that you can’t get it right, are you having any fun at all? Just write the damn thing. If you’re rewriting the heck out of your manuscript, you’re writing your own voice out of it. And that means you’re writing all the passion and individuality out of it.
Just write it. Then read it and listen for its song. It has one. It has to have one.
But if you don’t like the song you’re singing, maybe you should go do something else.
(I’m pretty sure this blog was originally published 10/04/2012. It’s gone now. Don’t ask. Here it is again, anyway, so no harm done.)