Time heals all words

Here’s how to cure one of the world’s most common writing problems.

You’re writing an essay, a blog post, or part of a chapter . . . and something is just wrong.

The words are somehow off.

The logic isn’t persuasive.

The point seems pointless.

Writing more seems nauseating. Why write more when you’re disgusted by what you wrote already?

So you abandon it.

The next day — or a few days later, you come back to it. You read what you wrote. And it’s still off, but the solution is now apparent.

Change the terminology.

Restore the missing piece of logic.

Throw in a persuasive metaphor.

It didn’t actually suck. It was just . . . off. And now you can see how. And you can fix it.

Why does this work?

Some part of your brain goes to work on the problem when you’re not thinking about it.

Looking at what you wrote yesterday makes it seem like someone else wrote it, and creates distance, allowing your natural editor to improve it.

Your weary writing brain, after a break, comes back with fresh ideas.

All of the above. But I’ve seen it happen so often that I no longer consider it a coincidence.

Time heals all words.

What it means

If you can possibly afford to, divide your writing time into two separate days.

Write a draft one day.

Revise it the next.

Even if the total time is 90 minutes either way, the prose written with a gap in the middle to rest your brain is going to be better than the prose written by trying to concentrate for 90 minutes straight.

Plan with this in mind and your writing will be better.

Your blood pressure will be, too.