Begin Again
By Vaughn Roycroft | November 25, 2024 |
A week ago today, WU’s wonderfully wise resident Druid, Juliet Marillier, wrote an essay titled Small Good Things. The piece really spoke to me. Whether or not you’ve already read it, this bit from her opening bears repeating:
“Shadows loom large over the future. Louder, more aggressive voices threaten to silence our words of hope, courage, defiance, protest. At such times it’s all too easy for the small good things to be lost or dismissed in the face of our fear, our anxiety, our anger that this has come to pass. It’s all too easy for the writer to fall victim to despair.”
Damn, I can almost hear that as a narrative voice-over, delivered by Cate Blanchett as Galadriel, recapping my life over the past few weeks. It feels like the landscape has shifted underfoot. Simply carrying on feels like a quaint notion in a world that has so alarmingly unmasked itself. I’ve felt a strong lure to simply withdraw. Which reminds me that, as an aging, straight, white male, I’m quite privileged; so many folks from so many other demographics have no such option. Recognizing it makes me feel like continuing to use my voice is a duty. Writing is fundamental to who I am. But continuing to write now requires more than merely carrying on. In many ways it feels like starting over. To do my duty is to begin again.
Serendipitously, my current project is exactly that—starting over. While I wait for a cover image prior to the release of book three of my trilogy, I’m starting on book four. It’s a complete rewrite from scratch of my very first novel-length story, first begun almost two decades ago. I’m taking this as a sign, pointing me to the path that I hope will lead me through the dark, dystopian forest ahead.
I recently responded to a post on Twitter (I refuse to call it anything else, and I’ve mostly moved on to Bluesky), asking experienced writers for advice for an aspiring writer, seeking to make a start. My response seemed to resonate. Which reminded me that I need to heed my own council. Which I realized needed to be fortified beyond pithy aphorism.
Writing about what I’m grappling with is my best path to understanding and acceptance, so I thought I’d include all of you in the process. I don’t expect that any of this will feel all that fresh, but hopefully my thoughts will reinforce belief and reinvigorate practice as we all move forward. In that spirit, I’ll be using the terms “us” and “we” in reference to the advisee throughout.
Advice for Advanced Beginners
* Screens will not avail us! – If we’re going to make a solid start, we need to carve out some space and time. By that I don’t mean just hours in an empty room. I mean clear-headed time, free of distraction, allowing us to ruminate and compose, to reread and revise. And to hit finish points (more on these in a moment). I’m talking about more than cutting back on TV and doomscolling. We need to work on curbing the urge to check screens during our work time. The outrage machine is toxic to the health of our practice. Let’s decide on how we might reduce the total screen-time in our lives, work to curb any urge to “just check,” and seek to provide ourselves with more time and space.
*Routine is our ally. – Whether or not we like to admit it, I think most humans are creatures of habit. I’m not suggesting that we have to commit to a fixed daily writing schedule. A routine can have built-in flexibility. But I do know that my biggest accomplishments in life have all been achieved via the utilization of a routine process. For example, my wife and I built our house by committing to a routine of working on weekends. That was it—just weekends. Any additional time or energy spent on the project was gravy. With the demands of our day-job, we knew we couldn’t plan on anything other than Saturdays and Sundays. At first that went annoyingly slowly. It just felt so daunting in its scale. But as our progress started becoming apparent, our commitment was rewarded and strengthened. The project ended up taking us nearly two years, but looking back on it, I’m can see how important adhering to routine was.
*It’s all about momentum. – The major side-benefit to routine is momentum. The strengthening effect that comes from the reward we gain through our progress. One of the reasons I’m struggling to begin again is my current lacking in this category. Just as an object in motion will remain in motion, we writers in motion tend to keep writing. But it’s more than that. There’s a bolstering effect. Our forward progress becomes more deliberate, more effective. Of course there are days when we aren’t actually putting words on the page—including the non-writing days built into our routine. But we can keep our momentum daily just by jotting some notes after a walk or a shower. Focusing on any aspect of the project each day, even for fifteen minutes, will maintain the snowballing power of momentum.
*Our “finish points” are our building blocks. – The sense of accomplishment that comes from following a routine and maintaining our momentum is maximized when we have goals that are more commonly achievable than: “finish the book.” For me, those “finish points” are scenes. It’s the way I organize my thoughts, by focusing at the scene level. So finishing one is a real stepping stone, always leading to the next. For you it might be entire chapters, or even a single typed page. At the beginning of a project, it might be character profiles, or a chunk of an outline. We define our finish points and we watch them stack up. Doing so provides the reward that strengthens momentum and resolve.
*Strive to actually embrace the journey. – We’ve all heard the old saw about the journey being the reward. We might have even occasionally paid lip-service to it. I know I have. And I suspect we all have an ambitious little egomaniac deep inside us who laughs and laughs, so cockily sure that we’re doing something that will cross some magical finish line. Surely we shall then reap glory, and shower it upon this ugly devil we keep hidden. Strive to shut this little shit down. We cannot be doing this for any sort of validation—not now. We’re breathing story into being. Period. It’s the story that will matter, not us. Its mere existence shall be the gift, and the gift might not be for us. We can’t possibly know how or why it will matter, or to whom. We just have to trust that it will. And that the result very likely will not involve glory (as in: awards, bestseller lists, media appearances, etc.). There will likely be sparse praise. We will plan on receiving nothing, and we will learn to find our reward in reaching our finish points, steadily breathing the story into being. We will strive to let go of the rest of it, throughout the process.
For Now, Let’s Do What We Do
I’ve been feeling sort of helpless and awash lately. Like a storm has irreparably damaged all that I’d once thought to be solid. History reveals that these sorts of storms are not new. In fact, they’re fairly common. Knowing it helps me to believe that, given time, damaged things can be rebuilt. And when they are, they are often remade stronger. Not always! But often enough that hope remains. In the meantime, we can rebuild our own shelters and get back to work. And it’s important to our psyche to grasp that big-picture things don’t get fixed in an instant. The fixing goes on at multiple levels, and from different angles, some of them unperceived.
For now, we will not withdraw. We will not surrender to those who strive to normalize hate, who seek to impose their will on others, no matter whom they hurt. We will take the incremental steps that keep our hope alive. In time, we can find our way to proactivity on a larger scale. We will rebuild. For now, we can hunker down and do what we do best. We are wordsmiths. Yes, we can help out our neighbors, support our friends, all while maintaining our own momentum.
For now, we will break free of inertia, reject helplessness, and begin again.
I recently saw an interview with singer-songwriter Maggie Rogers. In it, she said: “I’m not excellent at much of anything, but the thing I know I am very good at is giving language to the way I feel. That, to me, is what making good art is all about. It’s my way of caring, of finding connection.”
I like that Rogers gives voice to the caring involved in creating. Caring is what drives it and what comes of it, for the creator and the consumer. It’s a self-perpetuating system of positivity. Let’s tap into it.
It Starts Here
Yeah, right in this very spot. I’ve long utilized a habit of beginning my day of reading and writing here at WU. I know many of you have, too. In an increasingly video-obsessed world, I still find something special—something empowering—about starting the day by reading actual words, written by a writer. Much like my daily coffee, I gain both solace and energy right here. I’m not saying we always need to comment, but that helps too—actually formulating our thoughts and composing them in the pursuit of connection. It’s the practice of giving language to the way we feel, which provides momentum for what lies ahead. If you ask me, a WU routine beats anything that can be gained by passively watching any videos or newscasts.
We can do this. Starting today. Right here and right now. Let’s establish our routine, create some momentum, and breathe story into life. Without expectation. Without fear. Let’s defeat despair one writing session, one page, one paragraph, one word at a time.
Are you with me, WU? If not, maybe consider skipping a comment on this one. Let’s have a no-negativity zone, just for those of us who’re striving to begin again.
Vaughn Roycroft’s (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days striving to finish his epic fantasy series.
Thank you for this, Vaughn. I wish you – and all of us – luck, perseverance, and strength as we begin again.
Hey, Liz — Yes, all of those, but let’s lean heavily into the perseverance, as we don’t always feel the other two. Even when we’re strong, we can feel a bit feeble. But if we persevere, we step into our unperceived and deeply embedded strengths. Thanks so much for being alongside, my friend! Happy Thanksgiving to you and the fam.
Both you and Maggie Rogers reinforced something for me this morning, Vaughn. The disruptors have no power of their own, which is why they lie, threaten, and tear things down. It’s also why they are so terrified of people who build and visualize and create. A human with an imagination and love in her heart can change the world. A man writing a tale of hope and beauty after witnessing the worst of human darkness (JRRT) can illuminate the minds of generations. So yes, let’s create momentum and kick ignorance to the curb. I’m not scared. I’m mad (I mean that in the best sense), and also inspired, so count me in. And I’m making a prediction here that you are not so much starting over on your new project but returning to it with some serious writing chops. Happy TG, friend.
Hey Susan — Oh how I adore your keen reminder of the powerlessness of the haters. Yes, it’s good to remember why they hate us so much. It reinforces that we’re on the right path. Thanks so much for the kind positivity regarding my work on book 4! Back at ya, my friend. I feel so certain about your growth, which makes me so sure about your future, and so glad to have you alongside. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
Yay, Vaughan. Thanks!
Yes to begin again.
Sometimes begin again is more difficult than begin, right?
“Take the incremental steps that keep hope alive.”
Yes.
Hi Rose — You’re right about this feeling even more difficult. But I think that feeling is born of having the rug pulled out from under us. I know that once we reestablish our practice, we will feel like unpracticed skaters on the ice, regaining our footing, traction, and confidence. We’ll soon be flying forward joyfully. Thanks so much for the reinforcement!
Hello Vaughn, and thank you for wise words. I especially like these:
“*Our “finish points” are our building blocks. – The sense of accomplishment that comes from following a routine and maintaining our momentum is maximized when we have goals that are more commonly achievable than: “finish the book.” For me, those “finish points” are scenes.”
That’s important. I also try to finish writing sessions with a thread I can pick up the next day.
I would also add my own “memo to self.” Remember: What you can’t control is not your business. What you can control is–and that includes the story before you, calling on you to stay focused.
Hi Barry — What an astute and useful observation, to stay mindful of what’s within our control, and letting go of that which isn’t. Great addition! Thanks much. Wishing you a peaceful Thanksgiving (and maybe a Lions victory as an additional helping of gravy). Cheers, my friend.
Great post, Vaughn. It was exactly what I needed to hear right now. I especially love the advice about “finish points.” You don’t have to be a beginner to need a reminder there. I’ve been desperately and irritatingly wrestling with my WIP and it refuses to be slayed. Literally the only thing getting me through it is a series of “finish points” that I finally gave myself so that I could keep putting one foot in front of the other. I suspect a big part of the problem is because I’ve been so distracted this year by the world on fire, regular home life, and other books. But it’s also a challenging book to pull off (aren’t they all. lol), so I’ve felt like I’ve been working against myself at times with negative voices and giving in too easily. The good news is, I’m literally finishing the first draft TODAY. At last. And though there’s a long road to making it worth reading, I’m going to celebrate this major finish point achievement! :)
Huzzah, Heather! Congratulations on the finished draft! Something I failed to mention is that reaching “finish points” should involve some sort of celebration, which will serve to reinforce our sense of accomplishment, keep us striving for more. In regard to that: Cheers! Wish I could hoist a nice glass of something special with you in person, but I’m going to later in your honor. Thank you, my friend! So glad to have you alongside, keeping the darkness at bay.
So many gems in this one, Vaughan! I think this one is my favorite: “We cannot be doing this for any sort of validation—not now. We’re breathing story into being. Period. It’s the story that will matter, not us. Its mere existence shall be the gift, and the gift might not be for us. We can’t possibly know how or why it will matter, or to whom. We just have to trust that it will.” It’s especially important to remember this in our metrics-driven, algorithm-addled culture. One scene at a time as we are “breathing story into being.” Best of luck with your book 3 release and book 4 incubation. And Happy Thanksgiving!
Hi S.K.! Wonderful to see you. Yes, that pesky algorithm can break our rhythm if we let it. I keep reminding myself that the rewards found on social media sites are like junk-food in comparison with the sustaining value we find in doing the work. Thanks so much for bolstering our mission, and for the well-wishes! Happy Thanksgiving!
Great advice, Vaughn. Thank you. I esp. loved how routines help with making progress. We’ve been harvesting a lot from our garden and honey from our hives…and watching how the bees manage is so inspiring. They get right back to work. Life is sweet. And ever sweeter now. Happy writing. Happy Thanksgiving.
Thank you. Happy Thanksgiving.
Hi, Vaughn. Thanks for this post. A lot of what you wrote resonated with me. As others have written in response, focusing at the scene level is a proven way to move a manuscript forward. Once I’ve figured out the basic plot and story arc of a novel in progress, I focus on the building blocks of adding scenes. I don’t feel as though I’ve accomplished anything during a writing session unless I finish a scene. Bird by bird, scene by scene. I also have come to realize that I am spending way too much time doom scrolling and watching political talking heads on cable TV, to the detriment of writing and other more fruitful activities. I need to disconnect: read a book, write, or practice piano. Spend time with friends and loved ones. Having lived a long life, I know the political pendulum swings back and forth and I am hopeful for a better result next time. Best wishes to you and your family for a restful and relaxing Thanksgiving holiday
Hi Chris! Man, I’ll tell ya–stepping away from 90% of my televised news consumption has been a game-changer. They’re so complicit in sane-washing the madness. I was infuriated by them, anyway–even those who’ve stayed away from the out-and-out billionaire-funded brainwashing that’s been going on for decades. I’m so glad it resonated for you, and that you’re going to devote yourself anew to Maggie’s caring machine. Thanks, Chris! Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.
I loved this, Vaughn. I don’t have much to contribute other than you’re not alone and that many writers throughout history have written through their despair and disappointment and melancholy and ushered in a sort of “awakening” in the public by giving voice to what burdens their hearts. Awakening by degrees. Through story. That’s what I hope and what keeps me coming back to the page. Your heart was much needed for me today, so thank you for sharing. Onward!
Hi Rachel — I love “awakening by degrees”! You’re right, we’re the ones who need to give voice through times when we know so many others feel as burdened or moreso by darkness. I’m so glad the piece felt like a balm, and that you let me know. Thank you! Happy Thanksgiving. Onward!
Right there with you, Mr. Roycroft. My WIP is no longer IP, it’s out for beta reads and I’m facing grief and the start of something new. Like all of us.
Good to know that I’m not alone in feeling alone, that routine and resolve can carry us forward. It will. Faith. You’ve said it beautifully, thanks.
Congratulations, Benjamin! Talk about a “Finish Point”!
Knowing that we’re facing this together makes the grief ache just a little less, doesn’t it? Yes, let’s carry on in the knowledge that by doing so we are healing not just ourselves but untold numbers of others with whom we are connected, somethings in unperceived ways.
And, perhaps most importantly, let’s keep our faith. Thanks for always being here, and for your wise additions and kind praise.
“It’s the story that will matter, not us. Its mere existence shall be the gift, and the gift might not be for us. We can’t possibly know how or why it will matter, or to whom. We just have to trust that it will.”
I love this, Vaughn. It’s not only insightful advice for aspiring writers, it’s also a true validation of what we do as writers at all stages. I think you may be a wise druid deep down. I find, to my surprise, that certain characters in my work in progress are just now discovering the power of storytelling to get them through what seem like impossible challenges, and to keep their feet on the pathway forwards.
Hi Juliet — Well, I couldn’t possibly start the day feeling any more chuffed. Your very kind praise ought to make for some powerful momentum-building. The parallels in your WIP feel serendipitous, but isn’t that so often the gift of storytelling? We are literally being taught as we seek to teach.
Thank you so much. Wishing you peace and progress.
As I type this, I’m listening to Jackson Browne crow:
Your “For Now, Let’s Do What We Do” fits this vibe. I especially like “For Now.” It feels like the mantra I need For Now.
Write on, V!
Hey T — One of my favorite songs by one of my favorite songwriters. That song is so bittersweet. It’s got the restlessness and the acceptance, and dare I say?–the “for now.” built in there, too. Thanks, Jackson.
I love that we’re both finding actionable parallels in our WIPs. I honestly think this is what we’re meant to be doing right now. As awful as it is, we are meant to think and feel and distill and convey. That includes drawing new meaning from 50 year old songs. Who can know? Maybe what we’re coming up with will offer illumination and/or comfort to an aching soul 50 years from now. Even the super-slim chance of that feels worth the effort, doesn’t it?
Thanks for always inspiring and supporting, my friend. Happy Thanksgiving.
I do believe we are the Seers of our time, and it is to us to see, to “think and feel and distill and convey.” And hopefully, as you say, our words will matter to someone, someday.
Write on, V. And Happy Thanksgiving to you and to Mo. (Also: Go, Lions!)
A long time ago, Uncle Sam sent me to a class designed to teach GIs how to survive a POW camp. They taught exactly what you are saying. One day at a time. Don’t give up; don’t give in. Never forget what you are. Hang in there because it will end and you will go home. You’re much more eloquent
Finish points, absolutely. i hit a big one last weekend. My manuscript went back to the editor for copy edit on Sunday. I know there will be some tweaks coming out of this. I know the question of what to do with it once it finished is still ahead. I didn’t care. I took a victory lap around the coffee table.
Congratulations, Bill! Great going. You’ve got the perfect mindset, too. That’s a recipe for success, for sure. I’m rooting for you, and looking forward to reading what comes of it. Thank you for your kind words. Happy Thanksgiving.
I was watching a podcast about the show Big Bang Theory – I clicked on it because it indicated there was a pilot episode that never made it to the screen and almost had the show canceled before it even began.
This pilot episode apparently was awful. The iconic character Sheldon was very different. The Penny character was completely unlikable, and was a completely different actor playing that role in the pilot. Anyway, without going into the what’s, when’s, where’s, why’s – this pilot apparently sucked. The show would have lasted if they were lucky one season, maybe.
So, the creators of the show, could have said “well, they just don’t get us! they don’t understand what we’re trying to do here – blah blah blah” and just going on with what they were doing, they instead said “let’s take another look at it.” And that’s what they did! And the BBT became one of the most popular shows on television with unforgettable characters – flawed ones, quirky ones, but ones many people came to love. It lasted many seasons and if Jim Parsons had not wanted to leave the show, it could have lasted a few more.
All because the creators/writers didn’t let their egos get in the way. Or didn’t push themselves into a corner. Or feel as if the work they already did would be ‘wasted.’
They took another look at it. I just love that and it really has stuck with me. I’ll be rewriting The Lightning Charmer – yes, it is already published, but I got my rights back and I’m going to do it, for me.
Really proud of you, Vaughn!
Hey Kat — Well dang, right back at you! I thought Lightning Charmer was a beautiful book, but I can see the potential to take it to eleven. And what a great source of inspiration! Proud of you, too.
Happy Thanksgiving, my friend. Please keep me posted on your progress!
Thank you for your words, Vaughn, and for the reminder that routine and finish points can help when overwhelm and otherness take over. We have that two decades old draft in the drawer in common, but also the drive to finally make it come alive. Thank you for that reminder as well. I wish you and all of us a happy, healthy holiday season.
Yay, Michelle! Let’s lever those two decade-old drafts to the max! Thanks so much for your kindness. Caring is a self-perpetuating machine, so we’ve got that going here today, don’t we? Same to you, wishing you a happy, healthy–and productive–holiday season.
Such good advice, Vaughn–I’m sharing.
Thanks, Tiffany! Happy Thanksgiving!
Vaughn, I didn’t even see your post until this morning, but I thought you’d be interested in my favorite bit, which it turns out is the same as that of S.K. Rozzolo and Juliet Marillier: “It’s the story that will matter, not us. Its mere existence shall be the gift, and the gift might not be for us. We can’t possibly know how or why it will matter, or to whom. We just have to trust that it will.”
The whole passage was great, but that bit was the essence of why a writer writes. The writing itself has to be the point, because nothing else is promised — or even very likely.
Thanks, Michael — I know you and I have come by our grasp of this over the long haul. I appreciate you reinforcing the belief, and making the connection on this holiday eve (oh wait, are you in Canada? Can’t remember). Either way, we’re on the same path, and I appreciate you having my back. Cheers!