The art of writing

The power of writing every day

When my son was in grade school, he took art lessons. His obsession with drawing was profound. He spent hours sketching, drawing characters from his favorite movies (Star Wars, Monsters Inc. I can’t remember what else.). Also, rocket ships and football players. Eventually, landscapes and still lifes, in watercolor, oil, charcoal. He didn’t just “take art”—he was an artist. We did what we could to fan that into flame, so to speak.

Art, like writing, is a solitary venture. I wanted to explore the world through my son’s eyes, to forge a connection around his interests. We’d go take occasional trips to Chicago’s Art Institute, where he loved the modern wing, and I introduced him to the Impressionists.

The art studio sent a flyer home. An option: an evening ceramics class. “Want to do this together?” I asked.

Photo by Anastasia Shuraeva: https://www.pexels.com/

Working with clay was new to both of us. He of course took it much more readily than I. I didn’t expect to create works of art. I simply followed my curiosity and my desire to spend time with my son doing something he loved.

A lump of clay, dribbled with water, pressed with the fingers, spun on a wheel, magically becomes a mug or a bowl. The instructor made it look so simple.

Our first attempts? Rather pathetic. The piece would wobble, bulge, collapse. We’d have to start again. After too many failed attempts, we’d even have to start with a new piece of clay, cut with string from a massive block.

The first time my thumbs actually found the right spot in that lump of clay, and it slowly hollowed out into a bowl, I nearly cried with astonishment. Watching something form under my hands was beautiful and magical. Some of our mugs or vases were too thick to be practical, but each time we sat at the wheel, we learned something. We showed up, got messy, and discovered how to set free the beauty somehow locked in a block of clay.

I have just a few pieces of pottery from that class—one is a bowl that I love. Most of what I created, I would label first drafts—unimpressive, but steps toward learning. One tall cup, without a handle, now holds my toothbrush. It’s not what I’d call art, but it’s useful.

Writing is like any other creative venture, including throwing pottery. You have to show up, accept that it will be messy and that you may have several false starts, but keep at it.

Perhaps right now you are trying to write, but you feel discouraged. Stuck. You aren’t sure what to write, or why you’re writing it. A word of encouragement: the only way to do it is to do it. Preferably every day.

If you want to be a potter, the only way to do it is to sit down, take a lump of clay and work with it.

You can read about pottery, watch videos, have long conversations with other artists, or other aspiring potters. And those steps are necessary. You’ll make faster progress with instruction and the right tools.

But eventually, the only way to learn this or any other craft is to do it—even if you do it badly at first. Tie on the apron, sit down, and begin. Dribble in grace like water.

Likewise, the way to become a writer is to write. Reading about writing is helpful. Talking about writing can inspire you. Taking a class or attending a conference will definitely prepare you, point you in the right direction. But once you’ve read a newsletter like this, or a book about writing, or had conversations about writing, you get to the point where you have to just write.

Notice: I took a class. Instruction, information, guidance—they’re part of learning. If you want to write, especially for publication, I recommend attending a writers conference or taking a writing class. (See the announcement below if you’re looking for a great conference.) Write, then get knowledgeable feedback and guidance, like I did in that pottery class. But you can’t get feedback on words you haven’t yet written.

In her book Making a Literary Life, Carolyn See recommends that you build that life by (among other things) writing 1000 words per day. For many writers, that is a minimum. I’m currently writing one book and revising another, and writing is my full time job. So most days, I write more than that. (How long is 1000 words? About as long as this newsletter post.)

It may seem daunting but it’s doable. If you want to be a writer, you begin by writing. You don’t have to quit your day job. In fact, if you have one, I recommend keeping it. But find time—early or late, whenever you can—to scribble or type some words. Ponder some ideas and write them down. The way to learn a craft and find the power in your story is to simply get it down.

Even if you’re not yet sure whether you are writing a book, a blog post, an essay—just write. See where it takes you. Discover what you think. Let yourself feel the joy when a sentence or paragraph comes into shape.

Start with small things—the pinch pots of writing. A blog post, an essay, a newsletter, a chapter of your book.

Every day, write. Even if the writing wobbles or isn’t pretty at first. You can clean it up later. Throw the clay on the wheel, and let it spin. Get your hands dirty, play with it. See what happens when you show up.

Be kind to yourself as you write. Save the editing for another day. Get the words down—you can revise later. You can even let someone read it and give you feedback—later! For now, just write.

Because if you’re writing, you’re a writer.

P.S. My son? He became an architect. He literally draws for a living. Don’t give up!

P.P.S. Got questions about writing? Leave a comment below.

Take your writing to the next level

Once you’ve practiced writing, and actually got some words on the page, the way to grow and improve as a writer is to get some feedback. We write words so that others can read them. A safe, encouraging place to do that, and to connect with other writers? A writers’ conference!

I’ll be teaching this fall at the West Coast Christian Writers Conference, and I’d love to see you there. Registration opens today and you can save $100 by signing up now! Learn more and register today at https://westcoastchristianwriters.com/