About Thinking and The Buildup Thing

Post 443:

            In writing, there’s nothing worse than thinking about it.

            Let me clarify. I don’t mean staring at your pages, thinking about what to do with the setting or the plot or how to not suck so bad or how to clean up this or that character’s motivations. No. Let’s call that thinking on it.

            Thinking on it is great. Nothing’s getting done without it, so, onwards and upwards and the rest.

            Thinking about it is crap. That’s when you’re in the shower and it’s like, I bet if I can stay focused for three straight hours I can get 2000 words knocked out.

            Eh. This might work once in a while, but most of the time you’re doing the buildup thing.

            The buildup thing is all the thoughts and fears and expectations a person has before they actually do whatever it is they’re going to do. Think of the guy waiting his turn at the Olympics to do whatever event he’s been training to do for forever. You know what I mean. Waiting is the hardest part is not just a Tom Petty song.

            Thinking about it makes you tense and makes big things small and small things big. This might just be me, but it’s really not. Let’s not kid ourselves. This is why sprinters have to train all those pregnant thoughts out of their systems to get fast starts. And other examples I shouldn’t need to go into.

            I can remember the worst thinking about it situation ever. Actually, it was more than one. Every piano concert I had to do as a kid was nothing but rampant, sweaty, unadulterated thinking about it. You’re sat there, still as a statue, silent as the crypt, trying to remember the stupid song you’re about to play while some other jerk is playing a song over your thoughts, getting you all confused.

            I bombed at those things. Total liability. Never had a chance. Too much thinking about it. Kid me was such a tool.

            Adult me isn’t much better, if at all, but I do my level best to avoid the buildup. Doing is the simplest solution. Open up your document and write. Clean something up. Get something done. You’re only racing against time, the ravaging effects of old age, other desperate writers, and horrific odds. No worries. Stop thinking about it so much.

            Think on it, ladies and gents. Cheers and see you after.