Go La! In Praise of Writing Forward

Imagine yourself in Paris. It’s nearing midnight. You’re at a train station that late because you didn’t know the Eiffel Tower lights up at 10:00 and you stood there staring at it for far too long. You’re miles from your Airbnb. The regular train station is closed for repairs and the announcements say there are no more trains until tomorrow, demain. And yet, there are lackadaisical French people standing on the platform chatting and snacking. You approach the station attendant with your college French and ask what to do, when is there another train, are you doomed until morning? Or you ask what color elephants are — you hope it’s not the latter. It’s Paris and there’s a lower tolerance for rudimentary French from rudimentary Americans. The station attendant shouts one word in a frustrated native Parisian way: La! As the word comes out of his mouth, you see a veritable ant hill of locals and tourists sprinting for the platform — running like it’s Chariots of Fire or their feet are on fire. The last train out-of-somewhere-Paris is approaching.

La! He repeats.

It’s a simple French word. There. Go there. Be there. Whatever you’re looking for is THERE. You (me and my husband and teenagers) get on the train in the nick of time and don’t have to meander through Parisian streets in the wee hours.

Imagine yourself writing. It’s nearing midnight and you’re operating under the auspices of a Rilke quote that implies o’ dark thirty is THE best and only time to write. Not only can you not sleep but you’re also expected to write and do it well and feel motivated to boot. You see a gaggle of other writers who look like they know where they’re going, running toward publication or fame or acceptances or accolades or rejections. It feels like there’s only one train left to take before you’re left behind in a dank writer’s studio. You’re writing in a different language, one that it seems like no one wants to listen to or read. Your critique group or feedback partners keep telling you to: GO THERE. Fix that. Get on the train. Change that word. Expand this. Move that paragraph.

Listen to the advice and feedback. And then decide for yourself. Do I want to wander in a strange city or a strange manuscript until morning or do I want to put this story to bed and get it submitted and hopefully published?

I’m guilty of figuratively standing at the train station. Arguing with the creativity attendant, which is ironically often myself. Not reading the map or the train schedule or the submission guidelines. Not appreciating the abandon of it being midnight in Paris running with a group of well-dressed French people clutching baguettes and wine like the bread and the wine are babies. Not appreciating the sheer freedom of being able to write basically anything I want. Getting stuck on a story thinking it needs to be written only the way I think it needs to be written when that train/story station needs to be shut down for repairs/rewrites. Not submitting because I don’t think a story is good enough or submitting too soon because I think it’s too good.

My simple writing advice after a whole bunch of meandering: La!

Go there. Go to the platform. Get on the train. Read the map. Run with Parisians. Run with wolves. Run with the bulls. Write whether you are 20 or 80. Submit whether you’ve written zero stories or 800. Don’t wait to translate what is happening. Don’t waste time in flash with too much exposition (she says after way too much exposition). Drag your readers to the platform. Pull them into your story like it’s the last train home.

Along the way, don’t forget to bring the twinkling Eiffel Tower and the warm baguettes and the man wearing a trench coat and a top hat on the train with you. Run with them as motivators and character bases and backdrops. Be inspired by Paris, France and Paris, TX and even Paris, TN.

And, if you (me) miss a train and have to roam the streets of Paris in the wee hours or miss a submission deadline or a contest entry, there could be worse things, less inspiring things and much less stunning sunrises.