Languishing stories, when to let go
How is it that some stories never escape from my “stories in progress” folder, languishing there, only halfway through a first draft, for months or years? I’ve been thinking about this question this week because a similar issue came up in a recent writing class.
“When is it time to let go?” a woman asked. She meant, “when is it time for me to stop my endless tinkering with this story and send it out?” But the discussion centered on something else: whether and when to plod through a draft to some kind of ending, for the sake of seeing it through, even when it feels forced. We didn’t come up with a good conclusion, but we commiserated with the student who talked about the multiple novel drafts that she’s gotten stuck on, with no apparent hope of moving forward.
I think there’s no real answer to this kind of question. No one else can say to another writer with any certainty, “your draft will never become a story, so give it up now.” True, some scenes, concepts, images, even half-drafts may turn out to be just practice, just exercise. Still, you never know: I had a partial draft of a story, blurry and short, about a lonely woman working nights in a lab and getting into a fight with her friend/co-worker. I couldn’t figure out what the narrator might want, or even who the narrator should be. This story draft sat quietly in the “stories in progress” file for a year while I did other things, worked on my novel draft and wrote two other stories and sent some things out.
Then, not too long ago, I opened the file for this languishing draft, rewrote the first scene, and then kept going. Now I have only one or two more scenes to write, and after that I can start revising it. I wish I knew what got me to start again on this draft, whether it was a barely remembered dream, something in the news, something overheard, or just the passage of time.
I know there’s a lot of advice out there on getting through stalled stories. Here are a few more thoughts:
— Juggle. Stop working on the draft. Move on to another project, or go read the novel or story collection that’s sitting on your bedside table, waiting for you.
— Walk, listen, look. If I go out and watch or listen to other people, I usually end up spinning new story ideas rather than returning to the stalled story. But walking, doing something physical like gardening, or eavesdropping on other conversations might bring you back with renewed attention.
— Leave it alone. This has worked for me a couple of times, to come back to some half-written, messy thing months later. I think this works best when I’m procrastinating, avoiding something else like the novel draft, or some household work like bill-paying, so that this sad, languishing draft suddenly feels fresh and full of potential again.
— (Maybe) get some feedback. In my writing group, we tend not to share stories or manuscripts when they’re brand-new. But occasionally I’ve shared something half-finished, and gotten surprising thoughts – for instance to try turning a draft upside down, making the beginning scene the thing that everything else leads up to.