Recognizing Your Turning Points: Where Are You on the Journey?
This is a longer post today. It’s a primer, really, covering the essential tools I’ve learned for staying the course with a writing project. A kind of map you can follow if you want. Having a reliable map affects not only your writing practice, but what you bring into the world, creatively. Whether or not you fulfill your writing goals.
And I’ve used these guidelines equally for short stories, essays I’m drafting about my mother before her death, the nonfiction craft book I wrote for writers many years ago, long-form memoir and fiction.
Let’s begin!
I’m into maps this week. I’m far from home, along with my little family—spouse, two pups, and me. We’ve been traveling for a while and now we’re living in our tiny camper van on a friend’s property near the ocean.
Instead of a snowstorm out my window, there’s a pond with birds and a huge carp named Big Bob and about a dozen turtles. There are five fenced acres to roam. My pups are especially happy about this. They never get to be off leash at home.
If you’d asked me five years ago, I would’ve never planned to leave home in winter. New England, where we live the rest of the year, has brilliant, postcard-beautiful winters. We snowshoe and ski out our back door. We read inside by the fire. We take a lot of naps.
But somehow, time away in February or March is becoming a habit. It feeds me creatively in many ways—nourishment I didn’t know I needed. Age, perhaps. The relief of no longer having to keep house (except the tiny space we occupy). No house maintenance or care (our close neighbors and friends are doing that while we’re away). Dropping the thousands of details that ordinary life requires.
There are predictable stages to the journey. The gathering of stuff to take—endless lists, for us, since we travel for several months. Checking systems in the van, getting required maintenance, making sure we have emergency gear for all weather. Choosing our books (one suitcase of them, a la Mary Chapin Carpenter). Then there’s the actual day of departure. What’s been thought about and planned becomes reality. How do we do our first sleeping night in a strange place?
After we’re on the road for a few days, there’s a new rhythm. We get into a groove. We adjust more easily to the new landscape, the roads, the unexpected delays. We have our routine of when to stop for the night, when to make dinner, how the dogs will cope. Finally, we arrive at friends’ and figure out how to settle in for a longer stay.
Each of these stages demands a different rhythm and flexibility. Not unlike a book journey.
Some travelers do it full time. We couldn’t. I need more space, privacy. But for a winter break, weeks that stretch into a month or more, it’s a book of delights.
And like the book journey, when it’s done well, when we’re flexible enough to enjoy the changes and the surprises, we get joy. We get pure creative time.
Today, settled on to our friends’ land, I’m toggling between painting (pond studies in different light) and thinking over the many requests I’ve gotten, from readers and also my agent, to write another novel, continuing the story of A Woman’s Guide to Search & Rescue. I’ve written in past posts about this book and my astonishment (truly) at the reader response. And how many of those readers, of all ages and backgrounds, wanted more of these characters.
So on this road trip, this journey away from my “normal” life, I’m letting new ideas come in. I like doing that when I’m not so tightly in control of my time and space. When I feel relaxed enough to welcome the unexpected.
This week, in light of that—being again at the very beginning of the book-writing journey, tasting the options ahead, deciding if I really want to dive into any of them—I wanted to talk about the stages that are predictably awaiting the writer when an idea begins to shimmer.
Even if we’ve traveled that road, written and published before, I find that each book is a rare adventure. A new risk. What will happen? Will it turn out to be as good as the last one? Better, even? Do we really want to take on all that work? Is the fire for the idea strong enough inside?
What will we learn?
Five turning points
Maybe you’re still standing at the entrance to this particular road, considering your first book. So much is unknown, I know! It feels exciting but also like huge risk.
I often say that the main difference between so-called professional writers and new writers is that the pros have walked the book journey before. They have a kind of map. They know the stages of writing, revising, and publishing. Although it’s always new, there’s also certain key moments we can expect to meet. I take good notes during each book project, and these are great to encourage me with the next.
I’d like to share those notes with you, in an overview kind of way, with the intention of helping if you’re feeling in the swamp, overwhelmed with risk, or uncertain whether to begin.
I’ve written and published fifteen books now, in three genres, and I can say confidently that most of them had five predictable turning points. I use these points as a map to tell where I am, not unlike traveling through a foreign country. I would never take off on a long roadtrip without a reliable GPS or map. But beginning book writers rarely have them.
They often don't know about the major stops--these "turning points"--and what to expect. So how can they tell when they've arrived at a juncture, when they’re ready to move on, when that particular writing stage is finally complete?
It’s so helpful to know where you are, even approximately, because the tools are different for each stage, too.
If there’s no map, these five turning points are often where writers get stuck and frustrated. Moving to the next level requires new skills and a new approach, and without a map a writer will flounder, thinking the project has gone south, when it's just a matter of re-orienting to a new stage of the journey.
What stalling out really means
It’s usual for me to feel like I’m stalling out as I approach the threshold of another turning point. I get impatient, frustrated, confused, unsettled, panicked, or bored. I used to confuse these moments, I thought something was wrong with the book. But it’s more often when I’m about to reach a new gateway, a new turning point.
My old approach might not work anymore. I need new tools to be able to move forward.
Because of this, these five points become the "make or break" moments, often the point where writers quit or get blocked for a long time. Again, if you’ve traveled the route before, even with a new project you’re more likely to recognize this as a turning point. I've completed so many books, I now recognize the signs when I'm approaching another gateway.
Do these five turning points apply to all genres? Yes, in my personal experience. It doesn't matter if we're writing a novel, a children's book, a poetry collection, a memoir, or a nonfiction book. We all face these major moments at some time during the journey from idea to publication. It’s different for each person, though. We each set our own pace.
Rather than feel discouraged, or feel it’s indicating the project (or you) are not worth the time and effort, give these moments some respect. Acknowledge that you've passed a big marker.
At each turning point, reassess your project. Revisit its direction. Has it changed from when you began? Are you still writing the same book? If you’re happy with where you’re going, gather the new tools and skills needed for the next stage (see below for more about that).
I’d like to share each of the five points, as I know them from my own books, and what they require from the writer.
Be aware that many times the journey is not a straight path. We may move back and forth between the five points—they can overlap, yes, but they each have their own rules and signs.
I’ll go into each of them separately, and in more detail, in future posts. But here’s the overview.
Stage 1: gathering phase
When we’re planning a trip there’s both excitement and dread. It’s been a year since we were away this long; how will we cope? What do we need to gather for the best possible journey?
With a book, same. Exciting, scary, exhilarating, all in one. Ideas come thick and fast. We’re not sure we can bring them into reality, but we’ve got enthusiasm to try.
A trip, or a book idea, might have been bubbling inside for a while, and this first stage is when it’s finally getting on paper, finally getting planned for real. I find the enthusiastic energy of this stage also makes anything feel possible, for a time. It’s a wonderful place to be.
Most writers have good "internal accountability" in the gathering stage, just from this enthusiasm. You can’t talk me out of writing.
What makes it work: A good practice. Writing practice, or showing up regularly, is key to success in the gathering phase. Our only task is to keep the channel open for new ideas and material. Our goal in this stage is to get enough written to be able to start forming a structure (next phase).
Here’s an older but great article from Medium on professional writers and their practices, if you need some encouragement for this phase.
Professional attest that if even a new writer works regularly on gathering their ideas--each day, each week, each weekend for a certain number of hours--book pages will accumulate. To me, this is accurate. I’ve written every day (or five days a week) each morning, sometimes an hour, sometimes three, and I’ve produced books regularly from just this effort.
What you need to do: Write, and write regularly. Explore ideas, keep open to new viewpoints, accumulate material. That's it! Keep yourself writing and inspired.
One tip: Writing practice is just that: it's not writing perfect, it's writing practice. You will turn out terrible stuff, good stuff, great stuff. Everyone does. You just write, because that's what writers in this gathering phase do.
During this stage, you'll have the option to play with a storyboard. Storyboards are a key tool in stage 2, the structuring phase. But a storyboard can help you brainstorm ideas about your book: what you might want to include, where different ideas might be placed, etc. Approach it with relaxation, ease—the only a way to explore without censoring what comes. Nothing needs to set in stone at this point.
How long does it take: Depends on how many hours you put in and how complex your project. I often take several years—up to five for my last novel, A Woman’s Guide to Search & Rescue. Many professional writers take months, even years, in this phase. I tell myself there's no hurry, unless I’m on contract for a book.
Books take the time they take.
When do you move on? At around 30,000 words, 100 double-spaced pages in 12 point type, most get restless for structure. (Some don’t, and that’s fine.) When the feeling of What do I do with all this writing? starts to hit, you are ready for stage 2.
Stage 2: structuring phase
Some itch to structure a book right out of the gate. Some writers think through their books before putting anything on paper (Elizabeth Gilbert is one). Some need to make sure they have accurate, sufficient research completed. Plotters may want to outline heavily before doing any writing.
If that’s you, you are a writer who structures first and writes second, so your first two stages are reversed. But many of the writers I’ve worked with need the random freedom of the flow writing to get a feeling, a sense for, the book before any shape emerges.
However you approach it, structuring is the opposite of gathering. It has nothing to do with the random, exploring part of creative self. It belongs to the linear, organized part of you.
I like to use a storyboard at this stage. Here’s a little training video I made, in case you aren’t familiar with this great structuring tool.
A storyboard can also be a useful tool for stage one: and if you've brainstormed your storyboard already, this is where you’d fine-tune it. You might arrange things differently, based on what you learned during your early writing. Or you might eliminate sections, refocus the book on a different place, time, or character. You might bring up the level of drama in the conflict.
Stage two is about standing back for a better look.
Some writers love this stage. Others hate letting go of the free flow. Most toggle back and forth--work on the structure for a while, then go back to gathering more material as you see what's still missing.
Side note: I really disliked storyboards when I first worked with them. They seemed too limited, too loud in telling me what I didn't know about my book. But when I learned to use them both as a brainstorming tool (in Stage One) and a gentle way to asses the book's best path (in Stage Two), I began to see how useful they were. And I actually finished writing my books!
Books love storyboards. They allow a book to find its correct placement in time and space--where each of the "islands" will be located, where they will merge with other "islands" to become continents.
After the storyboard is intact, we need to go back to stage one for a while, fill the holes that the storyboard has revealed.
We learned in school to write from outlines. This is the typical way most new writers approach books. But it can be deadly--leading to instant writer's block. I prefer the gathering and structuring approach. It lets the whole brain play with ideas before nailing them down into a first draft.
What makes it work: Your practice becomes different in this stage—not as much writing, perhaps. More arranging, testing the flow, filling holes with new ideas.
What you need to do: Some need to take a break, in order to structure well. They need to get the linear self engaged fully. The move from random to linear can feel harsh. I often give myself a week or two to transition, if I haven’t already started a storyboard. Set aside wall space or table space and be willing to let it be your structuring platform for a few weeks, if you can. Each time you walk by your storyboard, you’ll get new directions.
When do you move on? When your storyboard feels complete to you, and you have at least 45,000 words drafted in snippets, notes, and ideas.
Stage 3: first draft completion
Completing a first draft, no matter how rough, is a moment of great celebration. I’m estimating that barely 30 percent of writers make it this far.
This is the first time you have a real book (or other completed draft) in front of you. to publish, you need to get here eventually, of course, but depending how long you wander in the gathering and structuring phases, reaching first draft completion can take months to years. With A Woman’s Guide to Search & Rescue, it took about five years. The complexity of that story—three narrators, cross genre between thriller and literary fiction—demanded the time. I didn’t know what the book was about until then.
First draft is easy-peasy if you have a solid structure, with enough workable "islands" written (scenes, snippets). You build the first draft by cut and paste with this kind of prep work—it’s not about sitting down and typing chapter 1 then hoping for the best.
If you have an electronic tool like Scrivener, it's a simple matter of clicking a few keys. Otherwise, you cut and paste into whatever word processing program you prefer.
This is why I am so enthused with having the map of a storyboard and the hundreds of islands of writing already completed.
Be forewarned that this will be a super rough draft! That’s totally OK. Follow irreverent writer Anne Lamott’s advice. She says you can’t have a book without "a shitty first draft." Still, it's a huge step in the writing journey, and it tells us we've passed through another turning point.
How many pages in an average first draft? Aim for about 250-300 double-spaced pages or 75,000-90,000 words. You may have more. Try not to have less, because in the next stage, you’ll be trimming.
What makes it work: Your practice becomes your best friend again. Set a daily goal of a certain number of pages or words. Or a certain amount of time. You will hopefully not feel any stall out if you’ve completed the first two stages—you’re just copying and pasting the material you’ve already written, following your storyboard map.
What you need to do: Don’t overthink this stage, don’t edit much, just create the worst first full draft you can. I can’t tell you how many writers stall here because they decide to rewrite chapter 1 a dozen times or more. Make it your only goal to complete the draft, get those pages done, however poorly. You’ll thank yourself later. Revision is not part of this stage. If you can’t stand not revising, start a notebook or document with revision notes. Write down everything you want to do, but don’t do it yet.
When do you move on? When you can proudly print out or save a complete first draft (goal of around 75,000 to 90,000 words or 300-350 pages for an average trade-size book).
Stage 4: revision
Did you make it through the draft? Bravo!! It’s a BIG gateway, a major turning point. As I said, so few writers do. Celebrate now, before you start the next stage. Some writers recommend a serious break here, about two weeks of not looking at what you’ve drafted. There’s good wisdom in that. Your drafting/creative brain and your revising/editing brain are very much opposites and often do not get along.
What happens if you read your shitty draft too soon? Well, the inner critic will get involved in a big way. Either you’ll think it’s all golden or total crap. Most likely, neither is true, but you can’t see that right away.
Revising is a two-part process, to me: getting the objective distance to clearly see the value of what you’ve created, and taking out what’s not part of the book.
What does that mean? Most times, as with any journey, we writers wander. As we draft and structure we often include ideas and scenes and research that we love but doesn’t really serve the story. Revision is my favorite time but also the hardest because it requires us to fish or cut bait, as they say.
A first step: Reading the entire draft aloud to yourself. Yes, all of it. And in as short a time as possible. This is, of course, after you’ve taken a nice break so you’ve gained needed distance. Your ego is calmed down. You don’t judge as harshly.
I like to read my drafts on my iPad. I send the manuscript to my Kindle and read it like a book. Beside me is a legal pad or notebook and I mark down every single time I stumble as I read. It can be small stuff—sentence fractures. It can be large stuff—a character goes missing in chapter 4.
After my read-through, I often have many pages of notes. These are golden. A new map to work from. I’ve learned a lot, too. I haven’t made any changes yet but I’ve learned whether the book is still going in the direction I intended or if it’s way off course, and how I feel about that.
Then I get to work. I work through the manuscript, making the changes I’ve noted. Sometimes—often!—this requires going back to stage 1 to write new material to fill holes, or back to stage 2 to rework my storyboard. That’s totally normal. I’m often delighted by the unexpected directions the manuscript has taken, so I don’t berate myself if I do have to backtrack. It’s simply re-creating the book from a stronger place gained through revision.
Revision requires staring down all mistakes and figuring out what path the reader needs to take through the book, then weeding anything that doesn't serve the story, as I said before. It reveals many things, including where we've gone to sleep.
What makes it work: Not getting down on yourself for missed stuff, not pushing yourself to wrap stuff up too fast or discard interesting and unexpected directions. The story will begin to reveal other sides of itself. You’re there to listen and consider.
What you need to do: Again, regular steady work makes this all happen. Butt in chair, a schedule, and if you have an accountability partner or someone to track your progress, much help comes of that.
When do you move on? This is a hard one. I am not always sure, myself. But I do get signs, internally and externally, that I am revising too much and need to let the manuscript go into other hands. If I’ve revised out the heart of the story, I know it’s past time.
Stage 5: beta readers and other feedback
Revision can go on for a long time—I allow myself a year or more. I often work with my accountability partner or my writer’s group to test whether my revision work is working.
But there’s another turning point, after revision, where I recommend getting feedback at a higher skill and experience level than your own or your writing peers.
This is when I ask beta readers to go through the manuscript in its entirety and give feedback. I choose five, usually. People not in my family or circle of close friends, ideally. Writers in my genre are best, too.
I also hire a professional editor or a published writer to do a read-through and evaluation. Get a sense of where you need to focus for the final edit (line editing, substantive editing if needed).
The feedback at this stage is hugely important; it catches the embarrassing errors you wouldn’t want out in the world. You clean everything up now--make it sing.
What makes it work: Having done all you absolutely can yourself, and being willing to let it go into others’ hands. Choosing very carefully who sees it.
What you need to do: Cultivate a group of potential beta readers early in your book journey, research potential editors-for-hire as well. A great way to do this is to take online writing classes. Stay in touch with other writers you meet, with whom you feel sympatico, and see if you can ask this huge favor when it’s time (you may have to do the same for them).
When do you move on? When you get the high five from enough readers, plus your hired editor.
Your Weekly Writing Exercise
Review these five stages. Where are you right now, with your writing project, be it a book or something smaller? Choose your stage below and consider the key to keeping it going successfully. What might you refine in your practice or approach?
The Gathering Stage
How to keep going? Build a writing practice
Structuring Stage
How to keep going? Work with a visual map, such as a storyboard, to stay oriented
The First Draft Stage
How to keep going? Focus on simply getting the manuscript completed--no editing
The Revision Stage
How to keep going? Let go of what's not serving the book
The Feedback/Editing Stage
How to keep going? Accept help and advice