I have said that well-trained writers have two main kinds of skills: content skills, and craft skills. I want to stress this point, because so many people who want to write believe that writing ability is something only certain gifted people possess. While it’s certainly true, as I’ve said, that some people have a natural aptitude for writing (just as some have a natural aptitude for music or sports), it’s just as true that anyone who wants to can learn writing skills through dedicated practice. The main reason people struggle with writing is that they have not been given the opportunity to learn the skills they need.
When we want to build our content skills, we need, first of all, to develop the faculties that enable us to come up with material for pieces of writing. I like to call these faculties our “writer’s powers.” These powers are innate in all of us, but, alas, the educational system that most of us go through ignores all of them but one. As a result, many people arrive in adulthood wanting to do creative writing of some kind but lacking the trained powers they need.
An academic education trains only one writing faculty: the intellect, which deals with assessing and manipulating information and ideas. Creative writers need this faculty, too—a novel or a poem devoid of ideas will not be very interesting to readers—but they must make use of other faculties as well, faculties that will not get trained no matter how many academic papers they write. Creative writers (in any genre) need to be able to use their “writer’s powers” of creativity, memory and expertise, observation, imagination, curiosity, and the subconscious. We need these faculties so that we can come up with content for pieces of writing.
All of these faculties are natural human faculties; we all have them. But they may have atrophied from lack of use, and so we may need to wake them up and bring them back to life. That’s part of the purpose of the practices in these lessons (and in my book, How To Be a Writer).
As you practice using mental faculties you may not have exercised for decades, I urge you to be patient with yourself. So many adults want results right away; they get frustrated when they can’t produce writing that meets their standards.
As you practice using your powers, I encourage you, for the time being, to abandon those standards! Think about an aspiring hitter in baseball: if he (or someone else) critiqued every swing, he’d never learn his skills. The same thing is true with writing practice. Its purpose is not to produce great pieces of writing; its purpose is to give you a way to develop your powers.
The best way to practice is to re-connect with the child inside you who once used creativity, observation, imagination, and the other powers quite naturally in play. Let your practice time be your time to play!
In my experience, the people who become real writers are not necessarily those with the most talent, and it’s certainly not those who sit in constant judgment on every word they produce. It’s the ones who discover that they really love the activity of writing, and they want to learn everything they can about it. As you explore your powers, I urge you to think about the kind of attitude you take towards your practice. A critical attitude will stop you from learning and moving forward; an encouraging one will support your learning.
Take some time to reflect, on paper, on these questions:
Suggested next lesson: Wake Up Your Content Mind
© 2010. All Rights Reserved. Barbara Baig