8 Pieces of Professional Writing Advice That Failed Me and Why
By: Eve Paludan
Tags: Technology, Writer, Advice, Authors, Writers On Writing

8 Pieces of Professional Writing Advice That Failed Me and Why

Writing Don’ts from an Unconventional Wordsmith

Photo by the blowup on Unsplash

As an author and an editor, over the years, I’ve been to many writers’ conferences and book conventions. I always came away with nuggets of advice from the pros and I discovered, over time, what advice has worked for me and what hasn’t. (I’m not going to name names here for the advice that failed me.)

Likewise, I’ve paraphrased the original advice so I don’t directly throw shade on other writers because writing advice that didn’t work for me might work for other writers. I just want to reveal what writing adages flopped for me, and why.

1. “Write every day at the same time in the same place and the same amount of words.”

In reality, who can possibly commit themselves that at a certain time every night (or day), they must write X amount of words in the next X amount of hours? Admittedly, some writers can and do, but is the writing as good? And what do they put themselves through to manifest that?

Writers are not machines. We are humans with lives that extend beyond writing. Some of us have family or other jobs. Or fitness routines. We need to walk dogs and do dishes. We can’t and shouldn’t spend every waking hour writing. Life must be fully experienced to be worth the writing.

I once worked at a small-town newspaper where the reporters were assigned five stories a day, unless they were working on a feature story. It was harrowing for the reporters whose work I proofread or copy-edited — only a few reporters were able to keep up that pace for the long haul. My belief is that such a strict production standard creates unnecessary stress and is actually self-defeating when it comes time to deliver the expected metrics, with quality results anyway.

If you ever read a small-town newspaper article that contains less than three paragraphs, the original story either didn’t fit and had to be cut, it’s a filler (because papers don’t allow blank space in the columns), or the reporter needed a quickie short piece to deliver the required daily quota.

I’m a fan of Cal Newport’s school of thought that we “avoid rigid writing schedules.” I swear that I’m not lazy. I just like to have writing days and thinking days. On my thinking days, I reflect on a project and try to focus on the intent, visualize the process, and to heck with freaking out over the daily metrics that the industry insists are required. (A regimented intense pace reminds me of working at the paper and makes me grateful for the experience, but happy to have moved on.)

I don’t call it writer’s block. I vacillate. I cogitate. It’s serious thinking! By the time I sit down to write, I’m freakishly excited to spew on paper what I’ve visualized in my head. While I’m actively writing, my mindset is that I don’t have to be there. I want to be there. I choose to be there. It is pure pleasure to write when I am good and ready to do so.

I do my best writing when I’m fully inspired and my thoughts are aligned with the project. I allow myself to be motivated by my deep passion for writing that springs from the joyful spontaneity of my own creativity.

Sometimes, I can hardly believe that such surprising stories emanate from my mind. Where did they come from? I can’t be sure, but I think my endorphins get involved when I write. And those endorphins have a hot date with the characters in my novels. Yes, I’m down for the role play in my head. That’s how much I adore writing, especially fiction.

Having said all of that, did you know that Ray Bradbury wrote the first draft of Fahrenheit 451 in 49 hours on a coin-operated typewriter? Respect!

2. “Write an outline first.”

When I hear that, my eyes glaze over and I want to quip like a millennial: “I’m dead!” I’m typically a pantser writer, a faux-slacker type who has an idea of what to write, but no strict plan. I’ve written from my own outlines and from outlines written by clients, but each time, it felt unnatural to me.

When I began my pro career by writing nonfiction books, I only wrote an outline because my first literary agent requested a table of contents and sample chapters for his pitch to the publishers, which was understandable. In the hands of my astonishing agent, this effort landed me a print book contract in 32 days.

In fiction, though, I find that my plots and characters evolve organically if I let the story take unexpected twists and turns into unknown territory. I love the freedom of fiction writing, which contrasts with nonfiction writing where a writer can’t just go wild and “say anything.”

Pantsing is my fiction process that considerably blurs my roadmap to “THE END.” Pantsing means there will be detours in the story that make a mystery harder to solve, and perhaps, a romance more satisfying to behold when it finally works out after much drama and a few misunderstandings between the protagonists. Which brings me to a point of order.

3. “Write the beginning first.”

For more than a decade, I wrote books completely from beginning to end, not always knowing how a story would conclude. I agonized over the times I wrote myself into a corner and had to throw out chapters and retrace my steps.

My fiction beginnings were always polished from rewriting them so many times, but back in the day, I would write multiple endings and agonize over choosing the best one for the final version of my books.

The journey from Chapter 1 to Chapter 50-something was fraught with angst and self-doubt, punctuated by perils of convoluted plots and pitfalls of characters, who always had to accomplish more than they were realistically capable of doing.

But gradually, my fiction-writing process evolved to one that felt more natural. I usually still write the beginning first, but after the first chapter or so, I skip to writing the ending. After I write the last chapter, I write the second-to-last chapter, and then, the third-to-last chapter, and so on. For those of you saying, “Oh, no, she didn’t!” I assure, you this is my process:

Each time I write the chapter in reverse order, I ask myself, “But how did the characters get to this point?” I just keep going backward in time, writing chapter by chapter, until I get to the beginning and hopefully, tie it in as a full circle to the ending.

I’ll admit that it’s unconventional to write the bulk of the story in reverse order. I just know what works for me after decades of writing millions of words.

4. “Write your first draft online.”

It throws me into a near-panic to consider drafting online. I’ve seen exciting livestreams of “Write With Me” on YouTube (thank you, Zulie Rane!) and my heart beats in fear for them, these intrepid content creators. In my mind, these writers are taking big chances by creating online from scratch.

In the past, I first-drafted my work live into form windows on many sites and occasionally received these dreaded error messages: “This page is expired” or “This content is expired.” Using the back key, or worse, refreshing the page, might mean I will lose everything. Unfortunately, it’s happened to me on other sites.

If I was clever, I remembered to at least press the “Print Screen” key to grab a screen capture before I clicked on the submit button of a form-fill page. More often than not, though, I would have to start all over. And I do mean, all over.

I blamed myself for such errors. Did I stare into space too much, causing Windows to go in to sleep mode? Was I writing too slowly? Did my wi-fi signal hiccup?

Not one to risk losing content that I’m live-creating, I learned to draft into my own computer’s hard drive. For example, I wrote this story in Windows Notepad, copied it to MS Word, and finally, copied and pasted it into Medium for the final tweak. Yeah, I am old-school like that.

I don’t fully trust my Internet provider or the back-end of most sites to keep the content active in a form window for the time it takes me to type a story. I’ve lost too many important writings over the years — everything from personal journal posts to job applications — by first-drafting online.

So I currently create content in a closed environment where I can save safely. And then, I make copy|paste my best friend when I submit my work to a site. As they say, experience is a good teacher. But perhaps, failure is the best teacher of all.

5. “Kill your adverbs.”

Not this cliché again. It keeps popping up on writing sites like a zit that shows up once a month. Rumor has it that Ernest Hemingway allowed himself just three adverbs per book. That is some remarkable discipline as a writer, but I’m not capable of curbing all of those delightful -ly words.

What’s an adverb anyway? It’s simply a word that modifies a verb or an adjective. That’s a lot of potential description to deny oneself as a writer, just because some famous authors decided that adverbs are overkill, a death knell to professional acceptance, and worst, the mark of an amateur writer.

However, where would any fiction stories be without the use of “walked quickly,” “stroked softly,” and “aimed carefully.” Having said that, how about just cutting down on the overuse of “really” and “very”? That should be enough adverb deprivation, right?

6. “Write a book on your phone.”

Much ado has been made about being able to write a book on your phone. Oh sure, go right ahead and type 50,000 words with your thumbs and see what happens to your fingers, your arms, your neck, and your poor eyes. You’re probably younger than I am, but wait until you reach that age where you need stronger and stronger glasses and your hands throb while you’re trying to sleep.

Alternatively, you can voice-text the book to yourself. I don’t know about you, but I write much better than I speak. While I’m on the go, I occasionally send voice-texts to myself with snippets of book ideas, but not hundreds or thousands of words.

Texting oneself is a handy reminder for ideas we might otherwise forget because something we experienced in the moment gave us that idea. And ideas can be fleeting if not noted while still fresh.

On a more personal note about writing books on phones, I was once the editor of a heartfelt memoir about one woman’s escape from domestic violence with her small children, one of whom was profoundly deaf. She wrote the entire book on her phone because she didn’t own a computer or have access to one.

I edited the book because it was a story that needed to be told. It became a satisfying closure, a catharsis, for that terrible chapter in her life — and it also became an inspiration to others. I took on the project because it had deep merit and because she hoped that she could help others, which she did.

However, the editing job was a challenge — and not just because I felt extreme compassion for what she’d been through. From a technical standpoint, I decided that I would never again edit a book that was written on a phone.

Here’s why: It was an editing job that entailed a level of detailed changes that I’d not expected when she pitched the book to me over the phone. The text-message passages were in choppy pieces and not in chronological order. The entire book had been written on a phone without any apps — she had nothing but a flip phone at the time and her punctuation was rare.

It took weeks to edit the book that came straight from the pieces of her shattered but healing heart. It was a transformative project, and I was relieved to see it get into the hands of readers. The book was a success, but a word to the wise: Just because you can write a book on your phone doesn’t mean that you should. Your editor will thank you for not texting it to her.

Yes, there are now many apps for writing on phones. I don’t want to write books that way when I have much better software on my laptop. Why make the writing process more difficult by crippling your tools?

7. “The first draft always sucks.” Or worse, “The first draft is good enough.”

The first draft of the first book you write may indeed suck, but if you’re on your fifth book, your first draft of it shouldn’t be full of scary surprises. After your initial forays into drafting books or stories, you should have gained some confidence in your skills, and hopefully, you like what you write. Completing the first draft is most of the battle won.

On the other hand, for the writers who never proofread or revise their work, they may have to pay more for an editor to do heavy cleanup. Spellcheck is not going to catch everything. Neither will grammar software. If writers have no money for a human editor, it’s up to them to transform the rough draft into a thing of beauty. For best results, read it aloud to find errors that the eyes miss.

8. “Write for the love of writing, not for money.”

Oft quoted, Molière once said, “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.”

When I was very young, I confess that I wrote for love. I wanted my parents to understand my passion and love it as much as I did, so I wrote copiously. I wrote to the point that I spent entire summers reading and writing stories with paper and pencil. I even did a short story collaboration with my bestie in the shade of an apple tree.

I once submitted a poem to Life magazine when I was about 10 years old (I wish I had saved that personal rejection letter!). I also wrote for love because I wanted to make some bookish friends at school (I did). I truly wanted to grow up and become a famous author (I’ve had my fifteen minutes here and there).

I’ve written for a few clients, but I keep my ghostwriting on the down-low, so, we’ll proceed directly to writing for money. Or not.

Here’s my take on offering your work to the masses for free: If you give away your articles, stories, or books, you’ve devalued your work in the readers’ eyes. In their purview, you don’t think your work is good enough to sell.

The truth is, giving away your work is usually done for the purpose of building an eventual paying audience, but most readers won’t realize that unless they’re also writers. I believe it hurts authors to allow their work to be disseminated so cavalierly. (Hey, that’s an adverb!)

Writers might garner accolades from the readers of their freebies, but they won’t be making a living from writing. Even if they consider themselves hobby writers, they won’t earn validation of their work in the form of spendable proof that their work is worthy of purchase. Readers will also expect future work to be free, not a good precedent to set.

It’s fine to give away your work if writing is just a hobby, but there’s a risk that few will be willing pay for what they used to get free if and when authors decide that their fan base is big enough to start selling.

Worse, if authors move from hobby writing to a professional track, they may have to look harder for a publisher that doesn’t mind that thousands of people have read their debut novels for free.

The reality of free books is that the fan base that loves your books for free isn’t completely the same fan base as the one that is willing to pay for them. I’m sure that you could Venn-diagram a small amount of overlap if you were so inclined. But why not start out with the confidence to charge for the privilege and the pleasure of reading your work?

We cry and sweat and strive over our writings. We birth them out of our brains and it’s no small feat. These books, these stories, these articles, these screenplays, these poems, are our word babies. And they should be treated as such.

A final word.

It’s too easy for pros to give off-the-cuff professional advice, even here, and even me. The difficult part about giving advice is that writers have different career paths, different daily lives, different circadian rhythms, and different living situations.

However, the awful truth about writing advice is that one size does not fit all. Writers forge their own paths as they choose projects, embrace the thrill of initial creation, and develop a productive work process — and ethic — that becomes uniquely theirs.

The bottom line about writing advice: Writers? You do you.

Bio

I’m Eve Paludan, a multi-published book author (mostly fiction) and freelance editor for a small group of successful indie fiction publishers. I’m new to this site, but I’m not new to writing or publishing. I’ve been getting paid for my writing since the 1990s. This is my first story on the site. I’m testing out this new “medium” as a professional side hustle.