Professional
writers have learned to silence their i
nner
critics. They put
writing into two separate “buckets.”
They never mix the two.
It’s a Discipline
They never
correct themselves during Phase 1.
They get all of their ideas down on paper
in one fell swoop, hurtling to the end
of whatever they’re writing without changing a
thing.
Then they
go back and let the inner critic do Phase
2: the fixing, re-organizing
and “sweetening” (finding the exact right
word, adding a clever or ironic aside, etc.)
Behavior
Mod
This is the
only way to write quickly and efficiently.
As a non-professional,
you may need help instilling this habit. I’ve
found a website for you. It’s called DrWicked.com
and the software it sells is called “Write or
Die.” ($10 bucks.) (Click on one
of the images below to go to the website.)
It’s easy
to use. Simply enter your desired word count and
a self-imposed time limit into the program.
Then start
writing -- getting your ideas on paper.
Any time you stop writing for more than 10 seconds
the program senses you’re under attack
from your inner critic and intervenes.
You can choose:
- Nice, gentle interventions
in the form of pop-up boxes,
- Normal interventions that
make the screen turn red and play awful sounds,
or
- Kamikaze interventions
that start undoing what you’ve been typing.
A Drill
Sergeant for Your Brain
After you use this program for a while you may find you don’t need it any more. Your inner critic will have gotten the picture:
- No interrupting.
- No haggling and micro-managing.
- Or else.
It’s possible you’ll need to use “Write or Die” every time you write, for the rest of your life. It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re productive whenever you want to be and don’t waste time getting your e-newsletter out, you’ve won the game.
Yours in continued
prosperity,
can’t resist editing while you’re writing. You’ve
got a merciless inner critic. You barely get to the
end of a sentence before your mind has started picking
on it. You back-track, fix a few words, lose your
train of thought and pretty soon you’re mired in muck.
Like stuttering or walking with your ankles roped
together, it’s an agonizing process. 