Last post, I wrote about how I sold my latest essay before I wrote it — the first time I’ve ever done so. Today I’m going to talk about the process of writing an essay to deadline, and the first time I’ve ever done that.
The Spark of an Essay
Most of my essays start with a spark of an idea. For example, several years ago, I watched my 12-year-old daughter ride off to the pool wearing nothing but her swimsuit and flip flops, utterly confident in her physical body, and that moment spurred an essay on body image. Sometimes it’s about something that’s been on my mind, like my decision to “go gray” after coloring my hair for years. Sometime it’s a way of processing something in my life. And sometimes I simply want to write about something fun, like when I went to Vegas to compete in the American Pool Association National Championships two years ago. (Tiny brag: I got 9th for my skill level. Not bad.)
While I’ve been writing to deadline for more than 25 years, on topics ranging from “avoiding gym germs’ or “the benefits of having an in-home personal trainer if you’re a senior” or “latest trends in construction law,” an essay can’t be forced. At least I can’t force mine. It starts with an idea, or an image, or a line, and then I start writing.
The process is more fluid, more organic than crafting service journalism or legal content. I write, often in longhand, sometimes on my Mac, and I see what emerges. I have written an essay in one go, in less than an hour. Other times, I tinker with a piece for months, or set it aside and then come back to it and work on it again.
This process can’t be forced. Or could it?
The Writing Process
I typically use a three-draft process to write an essay (or an article):
· First draft: Get it down and write a “shitty first draft,” per Anne Lamott. I use “TK” for any facts I have to confirm or missing info or words I’m not sure about.
· Second draft: Wordsmith the piece. Cut to word count. Fill in/address any TKs or missing information.
· Third draft: Make it shine. Make sure every word is necessary, and for an essay, compelling.
I’d been wanting to write about meditation for a while, after the phrase, “meditation wrecked my mojo,” popped into my head one day. I realized that while meditation has been tremendously helpful for my overall physical and mental health, I have lost some of the ambition and drive that I’ve always thought was an inherent part of me.
Writing an Essay with a One-week Deadline
I decided to give myself a week to craft the piece; my deadline was Friday. A week before my deadline, I was at the library, pulling a couple of journal articles about the potential drawbacks/side effects of meditation. On Sunday afternoon, I read through the research and revisited my query before starting on my first draft — a flabby, misshapen piece that meandered, had too many ideas, and lacked any real structure. It was also much too long. I finished it Monday night.
On Tuesday and Wednesday, I worked on the second draft, cut a bunch of extraneous material, and improved the structure. Initially I thought that the essay was going to be about how meditation had eased my anxiety and lessened my ambition in the process. But as I wrote, the point of my essay started to shift. I started to realize it was more about the power of doing nothing.
The Benefit of Feedback: Don’t be Afraid to Ask for it
I thought I had a third draft by Thursday morning, but the piece wasn’t quite there. So I sent it to my friend, Stephanie, and asked her for her feedback. She said she liked it, but that the ending felt forced and didn’t quite fit with the rest of the piece.
She was right. I was overly enamored of my line, “meditation wrecked my mojo,” and it didn’t fit with the rest of the piece. So I reread the piece, thought about it, and took my dog for a walk. Then I looked up the meaning of the word “mojo,” and discovered that it meant a “magic charm, talisman, or spell,” or “a magic power.”
Aha! And I realized that I’d been so focused on my initial idea that I’d overlooked the truth. The truth was that while I thought meditation taking away my ambition was a loss, it was actually a gift. The gift of being at peace, and in the moment, far more often.
So the last line became, “I thought meditation had wrecked my mojo. Instead, it has become my mojo.”
I knew I had it. I turned in the piece on Friday, and my editor emailed the next day to tell me she loved it. I was delighted — both by the piece I wrote, and that I learned I can in fact write an essay to deadline. That will be a game-changer for me going forward.
And if I can, you can, too.
**It’s almost here! My midlife memoir,The Book That (Almost) Got Me Fired: How I (Barely) Survived a Year in Corporate America, will be published June 15 (it’s available for pre-order!). I’d love it if you’d buy it, review it, and recommend it! Here’s more about the book, and what I’m doing to promote it.
I enjoyed hearing about your process, thanks for sharing!