“When you say something, make sure you have said it”

 

After you’ve written a chapter for your memoir, set it aside for a week, or for at least a couple of days. Don’t think about it for a while. Instead, work on another chapter.

 

Distance and time are your friends—they do wonders for objectivity—because the fresher the story is in your memory, the harder it will be to catch things you need to change.

 

Later, print that chapter. Reading on paper is different from reading on a computer screen. I haven’t yet figured out why, but it’s true. I always notice glitches and hiccups on a written page that I miss on a computer screen.

 

Read your story aloud. Read it as if you were a stranger. You’ll be surprised at the changes you’ll want to make—changes that will improve your story for your readers.

 

“When you say something,

make sure you have said it,”

says E.B. White.

“The chances of your having said it are only fair.”

 

He’s right. Rarely do we write a clear message the first time, or even the second or third times.

 

I’ve heard that 80 percent of what we communicate is misunderstood.

 

In other words, we communicate accurately only 20 percent of the time.

 

That’s scary.

 

Read over your stories to be sure they’re clear. Be sure you’ve said what you meant to say.

 

Listen to this advice from a long-time mentor of mine:

 

“You write to discover what you want to say.

You rewrite to discover what you have said

and then rewrite to make it clear to other people.”

Donald Murray

 

And remember:

 

“Revision is not punishment,” says Murray in The Craft of Revision.

 

“Writing evolves from a sequence of drafts,” he says. “Scientists . . . experiment. . . . Actors and musicians rehearse. Retailers test markets, politicians take polls, manufacturers try pilot runs. They all revise, and so do writers. Writing is rewriting.”

 

Instead of thinking of revision as punishment, think of it as an art—it’s polishing your manuscript and making it sparkle.

 

Remember, your stories are important. They can change individuals, families, communities, towns, nations—even the world!

 

Write your stories!

 

“When you say something, make sure you have said it”

After you’ve written a chapter or vignette for your memoir, set it aside for at least a couple of weeks. Don’t think about it for a while. 

Distance and time are your friends—they do wonders for objectivity—because the fresher the story is in your memory, the harder it will be to catch things you need to change.

Later, print out that chapter/vignette. Reading on paper is different from reading on a computer screen. I haven’t yet figured out why, but it’s true. I always notice glitches and hiccups on a written page that I miss on a computer screen.

Read your story aloud. Read it as if you were a stranger. You’ll be surprised at the changes you’ll want to make—changes that will improve your story for your readers.

“When you say something,

make sure you have said it,”

says E.B. White.

“The chances of your having said it are only fair.”

He’s right. Rarely do we write a clear message the first time, or even the second or third times.

I’ve heard that 80 percent of what we communicate is misunderstood.

In other words, we communicate accurately only 20 percent of the time.

That’s scary.

Read over your stories to be sure they’re clear. Be sure you’ve said what you meant to say.

Listen to this advice from a real pro, a long-time mentor of mine:

“You write to discover what you want to say.

You rewrite to discover what you have said

and then rewrite to make it clear to other people.”

Donald Murray

And remember:

“Revision is not punishment,” says Murray in The Craft of Revision.

“Writing evolves from a sequence of drafts,” he says. “Scientists…experiment…. Actors and musicians rehearse. Retailers test markets, politicians take polls, manufacturers try pilot runs. They all revise, and so do writers. Writing is rewriting.”

Instead of thinking of revision as punishment, think of it as an art—it’s polishing your manuscript and making it sparkle.

Remember, your stories are important.  

They can change individuals, families, 

communities, towns, nations—even the world!

Write your stories!

Your sock drawer can enhance the joy (yes, joy) of rewriting

“When you say something,

make sure you have said it,”

says  E. B. White.

“The chances of your having said it are only fair.”

He’s right. Rarely can we write a clear message the first time, or even the second or third time.

I’ve heard that 80 percent of what we communicate is misunderstood.

That means we communicate accurately only 20 percent of the time.

That’s scary.

Several of us are using these summer months to rework our memoirs’ rough drafts because (1) our stories are important and (2) we want to be sure we’ve said what we meant to say.

We want our stories to be clear to other people.

“You write to discover what you want to say.

You rewrite to discover what you have said

and then rewrite to make it clear to other people.”

Donald Murray

Let’s pin down a definition of rewriting.

Scott Edelstein says, “Rewriting, revising, and revision all mean the same thing: looking at a piece again and writing it over, using a fresh approach or perspective. The result of each rewrite is a new draft of your piece.” (1,818 Ways to Write Better & Get Published)

“… There are many different ways to rewrite, and many different legitimate approaches to it,” he points out. “Feel free to do whatever seems best for your piece.”

How many times must a writer rewrite? Edelstein’s answer: “There is no ‘right’ number of rewrites.… Do however many revisions are necessary to get your piece into finished shape.”

“Get used to rewrites,” advises Dr. John Yeoman. “Make [your stories] as good as you can, and then drop them in your sock drawer for a month. They’ll develop errors, dull interludes, and patches of downright ugliness all by themselves. That’s the time to fix them. Then drop them back in the drawer for another month and do it all over again.” (Five Winning Habits of Successful Writers) 

Donald Murray acknowledges the joys of rewriting. “… The act of revision is central to the pleasure of making. When we build a house, bake a batch of Christmas cookies…, write an essay, we add to the world. And in the making we lose ourselves.…

“Before I sit down to write I put on [music] and turn up the volume, but when I become lost in the writing and rewriting I no longer hear the music or know if it stops; I forget the time, the place, who I am going to meet for lunch.…

“The joy—yes, joy—of crafting a text under my hand and with my ear is a daily satisfaction to me.” (The Craft of Revision)

May, you, too, find joy and satisfaction in revising your stories!