My garden is in mid-summer mode. The carrots are done, the second crop of onions are in, tomatoes and potatoes thriving, and it reminds me on a daily basis that all things in the season is a natural law.
Strangely, that works for anything worth doing.
The first season of writing (and if this process doesn’t work for everyone else please forgive me) is a giddy imaginative trip. Planting the seeds, in a sense. Just putting words down on paper, no editing, not even thinking about writing style. I’m going to be an author! And no one can tell you otherwise. So you write. And write, and maybe get your first rejections.
The second season of writing is figuring out that you’re not a literary genius. It’s discouraging because you suddenly learn that you can’t leave a story hanging in mid-air and you can’t just make up your own words and have your readers guess at the meanings. Everybody has their own problems in this stage. It’s a period of discouragement and euphoria and finding your own voice.
The third stage is the longest–learning. How to construct a sentence for the greatest effect, using POV and voice and proper grammar and why does this word work while that one doesn’t? This has its own stages, because each time we learn something and think we’ve got it right, we figure out that something else needs fixing.
This is where we lose the most potential peers, because there is always something new to learn and those who want to write perfectly right now soon fall away unless they’re true writers. The true writer gritts h/er teeth and plows ahead regardless.
Just like the seasons, the transition from summer to harvest is often difficult to discern. The last stage is where we start to put those words out in front of others with honest consideration and the certainty that we’ve made them the best we can. Some reach for the magical ring of publication–others simply enjoy the fact that their friends and family read and enjoy their writing.
Getting the steps out of order sometimes works, but seldom results in lasting success. Everything in its time, everything in its season.
Which season are you in?