Writing is a process that cannot be mastered. No matter the kind of writing you are doing (fiction, non-fiction, copywriting, academic, etc.), you are never complete. As a writer, you are always learning, trying new techniques and developing your own personal style. Writing is amorphous. You cannot even really refer to writing as an “it” because the writer is always the one with the control. Writing is action. That’s it. It’s like trying to master going to the bathroom: You either choose to, or choose not to, and pay the consequences.

Even the best writers, the ones we might refer to as “The Masters” or “genius” are still learning. There is not a writer alive who does not struggle and flail when putting together a piece. It’s the nature of the beast. William Faulkner said “the most important thing for a writer to be is never satisfied.” The learning, the trying, the failing, the trying again, the failing again, until finally some semblance of success is found, is the whole purpose of writing in the first place. To quote a cliche, “It’s the journey, not the destination.” In the case of writing, there is no destination. Ever.

Taking on the challenge of the NaNoWriMo (National November Novel Writing Month) taught me quite a few things about what kind of a fiction writer I am trying to be. While I only made it 6400 words (the goal is to have 50k by November 30th), I learned more than I ever thought possible, and more than I probably would have simply sitting down to write something. Though writing is completely under the writer’s control, deadlines do help. Now, some people might say, “A deadline is just another version of a goal, which is another version of a destination,” but it’s not. To have a deadline or a goal helps a writer maintain that control. Some don’t need one, others do. I am of the latter persuasion. If I don’t set deadlines for myself, I will either stop the writing and forget about it, or write on and on and on to the chagrin of the few readers I have.

I have written one novel thus far, and it has taken me years to get it to the point where I felt it might be worth sending out to agents. When I read it today I know it needs more work, but there is part of me that wants to leave it and see what happens through sending it out. I have already spent nearly six years working on it, ignoring it, leaving it by the wayside, or generally being extremely lazy. I set one deadline during this whole process, and it was in the very beginning: First draft in 6 months, and I did it. I prepared as much as I thought necessary, and I was able to have a mass of words at the end of those six months. Since then it has been a constant back and forth of rewriting and laziness. Flurries of work mixed with months of absolute nothing.

When I began the first re-write of the novel, I did not set any deadlines for myself. Sure I said things like, “I’d like to have this ready to send out within a year or so,” but I was not firm. Thus, we have years go by and I haven’t felt finished with it. I had begun to feel that deadlines were arbitrary and useless, but more than anything else, I started to feel like they were stifling. I was young, going to graduate school, thinking I was honing my brilliance as a struggling artiste. I would rip out paragraphs and throw in replacements willy-nilly, with no thought towards what it was doing to the story, the rhythm, the theme, or the flow. I didn’t want to follow any rules. Writing has no rules! How dare the mass of other successful writers suggest follow any rules, much less set up my own!

Thus, the book became a burden. Just a huge pain in the ass. This gave fuel to the negativity; what I call the “Little Piece of Shit In Your Head.” He’s the one who pops up quite often and in your most difficult moments of struggle and tells you things like,

“Your story sucks.”

“Who the hell would want to read this?”

“What is this crap about?”

“Boooooooring.”

“Nobody cares what you have to say.”

For most writers, hearing those words in your head is almost akin to death. Of course, it’s much worse if an actual person says them to you, but personally, I’d rather hear this from fifty people who have read my work than have to listen to that nagging little Piece of Shit.

But he has a purpose. He is integral to that journey and that learning I spoke of before. He forces you to change things up, to try new methods, to fight back. Graycie Harmon said “Being a writer is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum,” and she’s right. When step back and look at what you have to go through if you want to write (I won’t even get trying to gain some monetary success in the publishing world), you would have to be insane to want to do it. Yet there are writers out there who suffer from severe depression, whose “Little Piece of Shit” is nowhere near little. Some writers have a freaking Brontosaurus in their heads, telling them how awful they are. And they go on. They fight back, they learn, they adapt. They learn their limits and try to do as many different things and grow within them.

I’m rambling (see what I mean about deadlines?), but the point is, by doing this dumb little month-long activity, I was able to learn and grow as a writer. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, no epiphany. I just discovered. Whereas I used to be in 100% agreement with the school of thought that says, if you have an idea for a story, throw it all up and sort it out later, I am now only about 75% in agreement. For example, I’ve learned that planning, preparing and outlining is essential. I’ve learned how crucial research is to the process. This is not to say that I plan to spend months and months outlining and preparing before sitting down and typing out a word, but even if I did, where’s the harm? I’m testing out new methods, which will lead to new techniques. The tools are all there, I just have to pick one up and try it out.

The hard part is actually writing something, but I’m now more excited than ever. And it only took 6400 words to teach me that.