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Revised, Rebuilt & Redacted

Writing to revise provides writing pleasure

By P. M. StarrPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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She forced us to turn in rough drafts with everything. Editing and revising our own work into a final draft was required by Mrs. Carlson, fresh out of college and full of ideas.

As a seventh grader, I didn’t understand it. Two years later I still didn’t get it when I had the same teacher as a ninth grader. I barely had the tools to start earlier than the period immediately preceding the period when it was due. Why did she require wasting time on a rough draft when my slap-dashed sprinted-out essays got As without any preliminaries -- without any editing whatsoever?

I thought it was better my way; the pressure made me focus. The immediately looming deadline cut through doubts and eliminated second-guessing. Okay, so they didn’t *always* get A’s … they frequently didn’t even get finished and turned in on time.

I blamed my late papers on having to write everything twice (once with intentional mistakes that I could then remove in the second copy, meeting the requirement of rough and final drafts) but the truth is I just sucked at finishing homework. Even in math and social studies classes where duplicating every assignment wasn’t required; I simply didn’t do assignments half the time.

In my other classes the only thing that saved me was that I tested well, but that didn’t help in Mrs. Carlson’s classes. I wound up getting kicked out of her Honors English classes: too many incompletes.

2021

“Did you read The Artist’s Way?” My accountability buddy asked as a prelude to suggesting we commit to morning pages and meditation. Every single day this year.

I told him I started it a long time ago, but … didn’t finish.

But I agreed to the commitment anyway. This is day 161. I've never finished something so many times in my whole entire life!

Three pages every day -- even first thing in the morning -- is EASY for me to finish. More than easy: it is pleasurable. Especially when it’s stream of consciousness. Or even turning mark-making in my journal with my fountain pens a meditation to kill two birds with one stone. A long fluid line on an inhale … and a line in another direction for an exhale.A scribble up and down for the duration of another inhalation. A scribble left and right for the duration of another exhalation. A circle that turns into a hypnotic blue tunnel … a spiral that sucks me into the clouds. Feeling like David Lynch, diving down to catch the big fish.

Never a morning person, immediately journaling makes waking up and getting out of bed WORTH it. Effortless. Pleasurable. More than anything I’ve ever tried or had to do first thing.

At the same time I started doing morning pages, I happened upon a list of everything Haruki Murakami has ever compared to writing. What he says affirms what I love and value about morning pages, cementing my commitment to them as a practice, and making journaling a real bridge between where I want to go in my head for pleasure and actually writing “productively”. Murakami says writing is like dreaming for him:

When I write, I can dream intentionally. I can start and I can stop and I can continue the next day, as I choose. When you’re asleep and having a good dream, with a big steak or a nice beer or a beautiful girl, and you wake up, it’s all gone. But I can continue the next day!

Reading these words on top of making a commitment to my friend to do three morning pages every day unleashed me from stumbling blocks I hadn’t really acknowledged before. Stupid things like a fear of wasting paper. They gave me permission to write whatever I want, however I want -- completely self-indulgent fantasies, endless lists of desires, earworms repeated over and over, settings that never build up to a climax but just stay in one beautiful dream place.

The good thing about writing books is that you can dream while you are awake. If it’s a real dream, you cannot control it. When writing the book, you are awake; you can choose the time, the length, everything.

I love my friend and Murakami and dreaming. And writing for pleasure. I finally get it; I finally get why you write rough drafts.

Now I understand. Letting it all out, dumping every thought so it's necessary to cut out, fold up, slip in back pocket, and burn later some of the trap doors, tiny wounds, little missteps and false starts. The confessions at the foundation of conclusions. The impulses of suspicions. Not to commit to that because if you really let everything out -- if you really pull from all your best most personal intuitive resources and instincts and hunches -- you will also pull from your worst. And you do not want to commit to that at the top of the page and force the ink to perfectly hold up that roof of off-suit cards.

You will, if you really want the best, to discover ... that the best wasn't where you thought it would be when you started driving. Driving with a blindfold with a map printed against your eyelids. You want to take that ride and let your subconscious do the driving. Feel the jerking speeding turning spinning. No "are we there yet?". But "Jesus H Christ are we even going to make it there alive in one piece?"

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About the Creator

P. M. Starr

I love reading and writing for pleasure, comfort, and creating introvert sanctuaries.

Top-tier contender for all-time favorite book: Lizard Music by D. Manus Pinkwater

Early influences: Judy Blume, Ray Bradbury, (real) V. C. Andrews

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