Why is Good Writing So Difficult?

Writing is deceptively easy. You come up with a good idea, string together a few sentences and quite literally put your mind to paper.

The problem with ideas is they are slippery things. Trying to put an idea on paper is like trying to put a saddle on a snake. Even with the best action plan, you still can’t find a saddle small enough to accomplish this godawful task.

That’s why I compare a good writer to a stage magician.

Good writing is a kind of sorcery. It is successfully pulling off the impossible, successfully putting a saddle on a snake…and riding it. I don’t know much about good writing myself, but I do know what it looks like. Any avid reader will agree that good writing is nothing short of magical.

 The Stage Magician

A good writer is like a stage magician. He distracts you with little hand movements and gestures while the ‘real’ magic takes place. He grabs your attention with a few interesting words. You get enchanted with the flow, imagery, clever construction and before you know it; you are lost in another world.  A good writer quite literally transports you into his world.

The transition is gradual and unassuming but soon you are no longer reading the story. You are the story. You feel the sun in your face, your heart breaks, you are delirious with joy. How can a simple arrangement of words make you feel so strongly? And when all is said and done, when you have turned the last page and finally closed the book, you can’t help but think;

“This man has been touched by God.”

Painful Experience

If you are an average writer on the other hand, life is difficult. Ideas are evasive and getting words on paper is a grueling experience. You can see the story clearly in your minds eye. You can see every detail, every word and even a few clever expressions. But you can never really put it down in writing.

Something gets lost when you move the story from your head to your hand. The idea gets butchered, tortured and defiled as it moves through your body until you can’t recognize it. You read it back and you think

“Who is this imposter?”

The agony doesn’t end here. You could very well hang it up and find other ways to fill your days. Activities that don’t constantly make you want to cry. But a man who is possessed with words isn’t so lucky. You don’t even need to be a good writer to catch this bug.

But when you catch it, writing is the only thing you can think about. You run away, but you can never run far enough. You can never run fast enough from the ideas which you know never quite translate into the real world.

All you can do is write, if only to unburden your heart. You eventually get used to the gnawing dissatisfaction when you read what you wrote in a moment of inspiration. You edit the work, removing little pieces here and adding more there.

If you are lucky, you are applauded for your efforts but deep down you know it’s a lie. You know as hard as you wrestled; your best writing is still in your head. That the original idea, story, writing died a thousand deaths before it got to paper. Somehow you must be satisfied and maybe even grateful for the little you could make manifest on paper.