During grad school at OU, I had to write two novels and one feature-length screenplay. Let me back up, though. In undergrad, I wrote a novel that was bad, but I was proud of it. I learned a lot, and I was encouraged by my accomplishment. I also wrote numerous short scripts, a feature-length treatment, and a TV pitch. I was in a good place–not a great writer, but full of ideas and inspiration and drive.
Then came graduate school. Without going into the whiny details, I didn’t quite see eye-to-eye with one of my main professors. This led to a Big Mistake.
Her lectures and critiques were a constant stream of negative reinforcement, as if this certain professor was more interested in reiterating her supposed superiority of skill and experience than in fostering creativity and encouraging healthy writing habits.
Writing is not about having encyclopedic knowledge of story structure. First and foremost it’s about having the desire and drive to sit down and actually write. Writers write in all different ways and there is no rule that can’t be broken.
There is only one thing that all writers share. Writers write. And while there is a certain validity to preparing students for harsh criticism and rejection that they will undoubtedly encounter in the real world, college and grad school are the time when those students need to develop their dedication and their love for the craft. THAT is what will help them survive the criticism.
One novel I wrote in grad school was really more of a wobbly scaffolding than an actual novel. It was during that project that I made the Big Mistake. I made lots of writing mistakes–there are plot holes and logical fallacies and weak characters. But those are all a part of the craft and the act of learning.
My professor didn’t see the story the way I did. Maybe I wasn’t telling it perfectly, maybe she was framing her criticism poorly. I don’t know. But the mistake was when I started writing the story to please her rather than myself. It was never going to be a perfect novel, but it should have been MY novel. A writer will never be successful if they are trying to write something that they don’t connect with.
That unfortunate abandonment of conviction set a dangerous trend for the rest of graduate school, trying to please one teacher who, quite frankly, was never a fan of me or my writing. That Big Mistake became a habit that crippled my confidence and hobbled my imagination. I still had lots of ideas but no confidence that I could write them or that they were worth writing.
Since then, I’ve kept that manuscript in my mind, yearning to reclaim the story as my own, true to my original vision rather than the skewed and shallow story it became. And unlike some of my other manuscripts that I’ll probably never return to, I’ve never fallen out of love with these character or with their struggles.
Tonight I dined with “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak. I read the first forty pages and tasted the words more vividly than my dinner. It stirred my imagination and reminded me that I really need to read more often.
I returned home and took up pen and paper. I listened to my favorite author’s favorite band,* and I wrote. It was all brainstorming, but it was refreshing and wonderful.
I wrote for an hour, and have figured out not necessarily everything but at least one major “big fix” for that manuscript, as well as for my graduate thesis novel. Both stories have lain dormant since 2010 but tonight awoke from hibernation.
Who knows when I’ll finish these novels–they may yet take years, but I am content with that uncertainty. I am no longer asking if I will finish them, but when.
*John Green and The Mountain Goats, respectively
Jessica Lada 