The Writer's Roller Coaster

Do you love to ride roller coasters?

If you answered, no and are a writer, I challenge you to reconsider.

No, it’s not. Just stick with and I’ll explain. Promise.

As a writer, whenever we draft, revise, and edit our work, we battle the writer roller coaster. Not once. Not twice. Nope. I wish. I’d be totally fine with that and wouldn’t complain. Hell, if I looped my writer roller coaster ten times, I’d shut up and call it a day. For many writers, we’re stuck on the ride that’s determined to take us straight to hell and back again at eleventy billion miles (or kilometers) an hour and the only way off is to finish the project.

It’s okay, cry it out. It’ll get better. Just make sure you don’t jump off the roller coaster before it comes to a stop. Don’t torch your manuscript because the ride will come to a stop and you can safely exit.

Allow me to elaborate and show you what my writer roller coaster looks like.

First, I get an idea.

I have to tell the plot bunnies to shut up because they love to attack while I’m drafting something else. I don’t work on my idea right away because it needs time to develop into something more than just a pitch.

When they attack again with a more detailed plot, I start drafting.

Everything is great. I love ALL THE WORDS.

Until I don’t.

And the only thing I can think of doing is destroying my computer.

But just before I do that, a character or a scene reminds me they love me.

And, I’m back to owning all the words.

Everything is beautiful. I love my characters. And then…

They suck. I come to conclude my writing is terrible. The book is awful. There’s no way anyone would want to read it.

There’s only one thing I can do.

Because the words are so terrible, I don’t want evidence left behind.

But, like the evil villain that can’t be killed, I am reminded that I love my New Shiny, and don’t light it on fire quite yet.

So it’s back to work. Drafting, editing, revising ALL THE WORDS.

And then I write something that makes me want to crawl into a hole. Or board a space ship.

And at this point, I’m an emotional wreck.

So I have a talk with myself. I say, “Self…”

I can do this. I can write all the words and make people laugh, cry, or smile. And whenever the part of me who wants burn my New Shiny emerges, I threaten it.

Oh yeah, it gets ragey in my head. But it’s all good because I push through.

Until the roller coaster comes to a complete stop and I get the hell off. I’m a bit dizzy and shellshocked for a minute, but I’m off. And I feel amazing.