Sometimes I’m a bit dense

I mentioned free-writing last week, as an exercise.

This week, I proved its worth once again.

I’ve been somewhat blocked on two scenes, in two novels. No forward movement for too long.

Part of it was the ‘too many balls in the air’ problem—a bit of decision paralysis impacting on my decision process—but mostly?

I didn’t know how to write them.

More accurately, I didn’t know how to write them right. I didn’t know what ‘right’ was for those scenes.

I knew their purpose in the story, I knew what elements they were designed to move forward.

I knew how important they both are to the story; They’re load-bearing scenes, they set up significant parts of the rest of the book.

I was doing my morning free-writing, and I realised the answer. Treat myself like a client. Say, to myself, what I would to a client who was going through the same thing. Then listen to myself saying it.

(I do this in the free-writing, by the way. It’s not like I sit here talking to myself. Unless I’m writing dialogue. That’s a subject for another week.)

Then, I acted like I always hope my clients will.

I followed my advice.

You know what? The scenes came out fine.

They would also have come out fine three weeks ago, but you know: I’m a dumbass sometimes.

Word counts have increased, on both projects.

This Week’s Exercise

Dig into your “Books I’ve Read” pile, and pull out one with a particular passage that stuck in your mind.

Maybe it’s just a paragraph. Maybe it’s a whole scene. It’s up to you how much time you want to put into this exercise.

Type it out. Just copy it; Don’t worry, you’ll never publish this. Copying is fine here.

Feel the pace of it as you write it.

Most writers read at a decent pace—which means when we write, the writing can feel slow. Glacially slow at times.

The point of this part of the exercise is to feel the pace when you’re writing something you know and love.

Once you finish? Read it over. Make note (mental notes are fine) of what about it stands out, what, in particular made you select this piece, this passage.

Those are the parts you want to be sure you keep.

Now: Treat it like it’s a first draft of your own writing.

Edit it. Make it better. Put it in your voice. Change details. Keep its heart and its soul, but make it yours.

Read it again, slowly. Read it like a reader, not a writer. Read the original, then your version.

What did you change?

Why?

The point here is to understand what you do differently, to realise that there are near infinite ways to write the same scene, the same passage.

None of them are objectively wrong.

Some of them will be entirely yours.

You Don’t Find Your Voice, You Build It

Writers talk a lot about “finding your voice,” like it’s some lost object waiting under the couch cushions. As if one day you’ll stumble across it fully formed—Ah, there it is! My voice!—and from then on, the words will flow perfectly.

It doesn’t work like that.

Your voice isn’t something you find. It’s something you build.

Once you’ve built it?

You reconnect with it. As often as you can—daily, if possible.

The more you write, the more you’ll recognise when you’re speaking in your own voice—even after stepping away.

Every word you write, every scene you wrestle into shape, every story you finish (or abandon), adds to it. Even the bad writing. Especially the bad writing. That’s where you experiment, fail, adjust, and slowly figure out what feels true to you.

At first, your writing will sound like other writers. That’s normal. We all start by echoing the books we love because those are the rhythms we know. But as you keep going, you’ll make choices—sometimes without even realising it—that aren’t what they would do. They’re what you would do. Bit by bit, those choices accumulate into something distinct.

Continued on the blog.

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Outro

Well, that’s me for another week. It’s had its ups and downs, like any week.

I’m taking a little stay-in-town holiday next week—house- and dog-sitting. I’m looking forward to some quality doggo time and a change of environment.

I’ll still be around, of course.

They say “A change is as good as a rest”. I feel like a rest isn’t what I need right now. Rather, a bit of a shakeup in my routines, in my literal outlook on the world—that’s what will help me with forward momentum.

Some more movement in my life (doggo needs daily walks) and some time apart from my gaming computer won’t do me or my writing any harm.

Until next week….

-O.