The Answer

The right words are usually right in front of you. That thought you have in it’s own unvarnished form is fine. Really, it is. It says exactly what you mean to say, right? It expresses your disappointment or your observation or your desire for more. It’s fine. It’s complete.

But it’s not perfect.

So you back up and reread it. You look for where you lost the lead or went off track. Where did you forget what you were doing?

The words are right in front of you. But where should you start looking?

You weigh your adjective use and wonder if it will be as good as it is in your head. Maybe shorter sentences. Maybe better adjectives. You rewrite it and realize you’ve done your best so you reread it and it’s the most disappointing use of 15 minutes you’ve ever spent.

3 sentences.

How is it only 3 sentences?

In your head your story is a wonder of the creative world! In your kind you’ve got a building worthy of awe stretching skyward, full of interesting people in it planning to do interesting things and right now all you’ve got to show for it are 3 sentences.

You’re convinced this is above your pay grade. You’re not good enough for this. You don’t have the chops to do it and no pep talk from Gary Vee or a motivational poster is gonna change that.

Stop typing and go do something else.

227 words.

The right words are usually right there in front of you, but they’re not the ones you’ve already written.

I used to give up when the first few sentences didn’t seem cohesive. If I had a tale in mind and I couldn’t sink my teeth into it enough to bring it to life in a few sentences I believed the story was clearly not one I needed to tell, so I’d stop.

All my favorite writers knew how to make language do backflips to make the story pop in my imagination. I have to be at least that good if this is anything I’m going to even try.

The truth of it is that you don’t know what you don’t know.

And the right words are always right there in front of you.

360 words.

All my favorite writers knew what words to use and when to use them. I didn't know that the secret was having 1000 tools available to you but choosing the right one each time depending on what you were trying to convey. They weren’t making the language do anything – they were using the right words in the right times to keep the reader wrapped up in the story. That’s all.

I'm using words they utilize. That's the difference.

And the way you get 1000 tools in your toolbox is to focus on the next sentence.

444 words.

The right words always come after the ones you just wrote. Keep going.

You want to write something meaningful? Keep a journal for a month.

Want to write something other people will want to read? Finish what you start.

That idea about Walruses ferrying souls to Antarctica? Finish it.

What if the ferryman of the river Styx switched places with a mortal? Write it.

Do the words. Sit down and hit the keys till you’ve either mined that mountain of everything it has or you’ve polished that turd until there’s nothing left to do with it. Whatever you do with it afterward doesn’t matter. You did the thing.

That’s my advice to me from 10 years ago:

The answer is in the next sentence. And the next one. And the next one.

Finish what you start.

The clock will mock you so stop looking at it. Three sentences in 15 minutes isn’t failure – it’s a lesson.

In 500 words you’ll find what you’re looking for. Get to 500 words before you decide it’s not worth finishing.

Writing is rewriting. First drafts are amazing and finishing something is a testament to your resolve.

500 words. Get started.