The Inner Editor
When I first began writing in earnest, the words used to pour out like a river whose dam had just burst. Those were the good old days, when I could sit at the computer for hours on end. Of course, most of the things I wrote then have been deleted, banished to some cyber-purgatory. The writer, Carol Murphy. once told me about the ‘golden turd’ phenomenon. Babies, when they first learn to defecate, think they have produced the most wonderful thing in the world. New writers are not unlike babies. And if one keeps at writing, slowly the inner editor emerges. The stronger the inner editor, the better the quality of writing one produces. And also less the quantity.
Writing workshops help educate the inner editor, as does the guidance of a good mentor. I was lucky enough to have been guided this summer by Rabindranath Maharaj, through the Diaspora Dialogues Mentorship program. I have to be honest, the first time I sent a draft for him to review, I was apprehensive. Just who was this man, he didn’t even know me, nor the style of writing I was aspiring to? How could his advice possibly have any merit? It turned out that he is not only a seasoned writer, but a seasoned mentor also. He seemed to understand immediately both my strengths and my weaknesses. And he explained each one of his critiques in a way that made sense to me. That is important. Often in writing groups, people have valid feedback, but they are unable to express it in a constructive way.
Being a co-editor at Descant Magazine has also sharpened my inner editor. Seeing the mistakes in others’ writing helps one see them in one’s own writing because we all make very similar mistakes.
Thus, when the inner editor has sharpened enough, one finds the volume of writing slows to a trickle. One scrutinizes each word, every comma; the rhythm, the imagery of each sentence has to be sing before it allowed into one’s fiction. Sometimes, the inner editor can be debilitating for the writer. Writer’s block is sometimes a symptom of a too-powerful inner editor. When this happens, how does one learn to switch off the inner editor?
I discovered one way recently, quite by chance. A short story of mine, "The Glass Eaters", was published in Echolocations, the literary magazine for the University of Toronto English Department. This is a magazine that only began in 2002, and is thus not well-known. However, I knew anything to do with the U of T should not be underestimated. Atwood, Ondaatje, and many other literary stars are alumni and/or mentors there. Publishers read such publications, searching for the next fresh voice. When I was asked to read an extract from my story at the launch, my inner editor worried me. Each time I practiced reading aloud, it kept doubting my grammar, my choice of words and imagery. I wasn’t even sure why Echolocations had even accepted my story, it was so full of flaws.
To add insult to injury, the morning of the launch I woke up with a head cold, my nose stuffed up and my throat sore. Should I cancel? Luckily I didn’t. Because when I did read my work aloud, to a room of perhaps fifty students and alumni, a surprising thing happened: it was my inner editor who was silent with fright, not me. Reading the words without the editor, I began to appreciate what was good about the story.
I had discovered a wonderful secret: like fire, the inner editor is a good servant, but a very poor master.
No comments:
Post a Comment