Writing Process: The Drawer

I don’t know where the idea for “the drawer” first came from. I imagine it was in some way based on a collection of tidbits taken from different people teaching creative writing. I don’t have enough hubris to think that I came up with the idea all by myself, but it’s a technique that I use whenever I can. That said, the current culture around writing/art/“content” can make it a little difficult at times.

I don’t take a lot of notes when I’m writing or planning something. Sometimes there’ll be a quick scrawl of a map, broader vague plots scribbled in my notebook (or my notes app if the notebook is too far), maybe a list of characters or point-of-view orders. But they’re all broad strokes, very few specifics, very occasionally a particularly specific collection of words that came to me that I want to integrate somehow.

I decided early on in my writing life that if an idea was good enough to write down then I would remember it. If I forgot it, then it wasn’t good enough to include. I’m not sure this is always true, but it’s an approach I’ve fallen in to and find hard to break (and proving that I’ve forgotten good ideas is obviously tricky at best). It’s certainly true, however, that I have gone back to partially finished works after months or even years and reading it has reminded me of many of my plans for it. The plans I remember, I think, are the better ones.

I’m particularly against notes that go into too much depth (this is a personal thing, I know it works well for other people) as for an early novel I planned every chapter, every scene. The result was a book of chapters that felt perfunctory. I had been limited by my original vision and couldn’t adapt as I worked in the way I would normally. I didn’t enjoy writing much of the book. I didn’t enjoy reading it afterwards. And if I had let other people read it, I’m sure they wouldn’t have enjoyed it either.

I think that notion comes from the idea that work should be lasting and stick in your mind, regardless of whether you’re the author or the reader. The concept of the drawer sort of leads off from this. When I finish a first complete draft of a work, going back over it immediately is almost pointless for me, I’m still too close to it. So, I put it in “the drawer.” There was a time when I had a literal drawer, but it was in a different desk, in a different house, in a different country. These days “the drawer” is just on DropBox.

A work coming out of the drawer I can almost treat like someone else’s work. I read it and it’s easier to spot if there are a few typos that need fixing, some paragraphs are clunky and need rewriting, or if the piece doesn’t really work and needs to be taken apart and put back together (I do have enough hubris to say that the latter doesn’t happen too often).

With working to resurrect my old Patreon under a new system, I’m trying to put a lot of pieces in the drawer right now. I’m also pulling some out that were deeper in the drawer than I realized they could be. It’s a bizarre experience in some cases to be reminded of writing that I did maybe five years ago. It still holds up, but it can feel like it was written by a different person.

I like the system of “the drawer” as I think it makes for a good screening process before providing a piece to the public. But as I alluded to at the top, our current culture around “content creation” makes it difficult. The need for high output and quick turnover often leaves me feeling rushed to put something out before it’s had that time to ferment in the drawer. I write longer pieces, even when I call them “short” stories. So I’m trying to push back against that cycle, to give creation the time that it requires, even though that will mean making a living from my writing is harder.

Anyway. Time to put this piece in the drawer for a week or so, and see if it still holds up.