“Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. Beyond talent lie all the usual words: discipline, love, luck, but most of all, endurance.”
—James Baldwin

The Paris Review interview with James Baldwin is summed up nicely over at Brain Pickings, and this gem of a quote is one I've been reflecting on a lot recently. 

Writing is an endurance sport. This we know. And how might a writer endure? And not only that, but endure without losing herself or burning out? For me, the answer has been a combination of doing less and listening more to my own body. 

But that doesn't mean I don't feel out of sorts every now and then, or need a gentle reminder about how to move forward. Before I started working on my memoir last year I was blissfully excited about the project because, well, I hadn't actually written anything. Do you know the feeling? All was possible.

One reason I love a first draft (even a terrible one, which most of them are) is because it's the start. Without something to work with, I can't go deeper. Without words on the page, I can't refine them. Without a printed copy, I can't step back and ask more expansive questions.

Your first draft is a bridge between the story in your mind, and the story that it will become on the page.

Some writers are apprehensive about the first draft because it can fuel the flame of self-doubt. Suddenly, the writing in their mind doesn't match what's coming out, which is mildly terrifying. Is this any good? Does it matter? Does it mean anything? Will anyone want to read it? 

But a first draft is supposed to be messy. As I write in Wild Words…

“The Season of Beginnings leaves us particularly vulnerable as words are strewn among pages like autumn leaves fallen to piles. We brace for more truth-telling, the enormity of it all. We write without any promise of having something worthwhile to share in the end. But continue walking, as slowly as you need, into all that is messy and beautiful. Once you've taken the first steps and written the first words, the only way out of the forest is through it.”

Where things can get tricky is what comes next: REVISION. There's more at stake. It's time to start asking deeper questions, and you may begin receiving feedback that stops you in your tracks. This is where endurance comes in. Now that I'm deep into my own revision process (and finding myself a bit stuck on occasion) here's how I'm moving forward. 

1. Reorganizing. It always helps me to spread everything out on the floor and then start rearranging. It's easier to see connections and possibilities between sections that might be easy to miss when I'm working on the computer. 

2. Research. I'm diving a bit more into research (both for content and structure) to help bolster a few sections of my book. I'm not sure what will come of it or how much I'll actually use, but it's something to do that keeps my mind busy and thinking in new ways.  

3. Writing between the lines. I mentioned this during the first draft stage, and I'm finding it useful for revision too. I read what's on the page, then turn it over and write what's missing. Where can I expand an idea? What's not there but should be? How can I expand this? Is there another way in? I'm also going back to good old pen and paper, opening my original notebook and seeing what else comes out.

4. Cultivating patience. Though it's not my favorite part of the process, I've learned that rushing rarely yields anything promising.