There comes a point in writing, soon after the super excited “I’m going to write a book” phase, that you begin to write yourself into a corner, or into an alleyway you had no intention of venturing into. And at that point when you are backed against a wall you must ask yourself, is it time to start over?
It is very difficult to run the length of the book without having the first few steps in order. I cannot let my creative mind be free when it is focused on how ineffective the beginning of my novel is. And as much as I aspire to completely turn off my inner critic when I write my first draft, sometimes it is worth listening to.
It takes a few wrong beginnings to get the right one. And isn’t that true in life? We are constantly trying, failing and starting over. Just as it takes a beautiful vulnerability to write in the first place, it takes a beautiful humility to admit that something needs work. Something needs another chance. I need another chance.
And that is the beauty of writing. It is completely your own creation and in your own control and you can start over at any point. No one can tell you that you don’t get a second chance, or a third, or a fourth.
Writers do not sit down and write a final draft. They write a first, second, third, eighteenth draft. Nothing in life is perfected on the first try.
I am beginning to think that writing has much to do with grace and persistence, and little to do with perfection.