Hold that Thought

A writer doesn’t know how their words land until they share their writing with a reader. They never know what’s missing in their writing if they never hear their work out loud. To trust the reader with our words, we need to have confidence in ourselves. Our confidence grows as we learn to trust our ability to express ourselves.

We writers need fresh eyes and ears to detect the things that are lacking or are superfluous. It is scary to let someone into our precious world. So we take baby steps towards the goal of sharing our experience with a reader. We can start by reading our work out loud to ourselves. As the words form in our mouth, we instantly detect any disturbance in their flow. As our ears listen, we immediately hear when our words are off. Our own reaction to our writing lets us know if we achieved what we set out to do.

Am I brushing over something important? Am I not drawing a clear picture of the moment? Did I let a narrator tell the story instead of showing a character diving headfirst into a conflict? The reader will lose patience with a writer who keeps them at a distance. They lose interest in a writer who avoids a conflict that’s in plain sight—for the reader.

You know you need to work on these parts and address the issue head on. Nothing can prompt you to write better than your resistance to the work. Resistance is a big neon sign pointing to where we need to keep searching for the deep, hidden truth. That’s the work of the writer: digging up what’s too scary for us to look at. The writer goes where we are too afraid to go on our own.

For the hard work of expressing their feelings, writers need to know they are not alone in their struggle. That’s why writers seek counseling. They know they will receive valuable feedback on their work. Feedback, not criticism, encourages them to reach further and deepen their writing. All this so the reader can follow the writer to the very moment of truth and don’t feel alone any longer.

How do we get to that place? First, we have to notice the challenge. Our thoughts are elusive. Ever moving and changing, difficult to pin down. We’re quick to drop any thought that makes us uncomfortable. We question the relevance of our thought. Does it belong in the bigger contexts? Already, other thoughts appear and we write them down first.

The challenge is to recognize that fleeting moment for what it is and hold still. Not to keep writing as if nothing happened, but to pause. Inne halten we say in German, holding still. Allowing for the thought to return, the truth to resurface and to write it down as soon as it does.

It’s that glimpse at our truth that lets us shy away. All kinds of activity cause us to forget about the deeper meaning. A classic move is getting up to make coffee. Research is another way out. Even our body betrays us when it tells us we need to go to the restroom. These are tricks we play on ourselves, so we lose track of the important discovery we made.

The truth and nothing but the truth will improve our writing. No thesaurus will get us there. No wordsmithing and polishing will make that dull point shine. Digging up the dirty truth and making it digestible for the reader is the work of a writer. Those who succeed will carry their light into our heart and make us shine in all our facets.

Of course, when feeling stuck, walking around a park is a good way to calm the mind and relax. I like to go swimming. I’m in motion and I let my thoughts float by without the need to get a hold of them. It’s a way to ease my mind into a happy state where inspiration appears. That’s when epiphanies happen.

Moving or holding still are two measures of writing. Which to use is up to you.