shitty first drafts
(thank you, Anne Lamott)
shitty first drafts shitty first drafts
I love books. I love writing. I love books about books and books about writing. You would think that someone who loves words so much could figure out how to use some of them to express the way these kinds of books make me feel.
Nope. I just love them.
One of my favorite books about writing is Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. (God, I feel this strong urge to stop typing and read it again.)
I used to write with a purple pen. Everything. Always. I don’t know when I transitioned away from them. Maybe 2009ish. My copy of Bird by Bird has a whole lot of underlining, asterisking, and margin-notes in purple ink (which has faded to pink in several places).
I also crossed out every single cuss word. (I am not making this up.) No more “shitty first drafts.” or “ass.” No more “fucked-up” this or that. (No more joy or fun or taking things a little less seriously.)
On April 27, 2010, I read it again, this time with a red pen in hand. (I recommend re-reading books with different colored pens, and writing the date, because there is no chance in all the world that you’ll just magically remember when you read it.)
Then, on December 12, 2016, I started reading back through it, armed with a black pen, and wrote all the cuss words back in. (omg)
I wrote at the front of the book: “Reading back through parts I’ve underlined and putting back all the shittys.”
I read it a fourth time in 2023 with a blue pen. What color will I choose next?
My dog-eared, inked-up, crossed-out, written-back-in copy of this book is a metaphor for my life in a million little ways.
“Good writing is about telling the truth,” Anne says. I try to always tell the truth in my writing. And I’m learning that the truth is not absolute. It changes as we change. I was writing my back-then truth when I crossed out shit and fuck, and I’m telling my right-now truth when I write them back in (and add extra shits and fucks just for kicks and shucks).
“For me and most of the other writers I know,” Anne says, “writing is not rapturous. In fact, the only way I can get anything written is to write really, really shitty first drafts.” (22)
My truth is a little bit different. Sure, I’ve had my share of shitty first drafts, but I’ve also experienced a hell of a lot of rapture as I write things down for the very first time. I actually really really love the writing process.
Omg I just farted. True story.
^ This is an excerpt from my book, what makes you fart? And, now, not only do I not cross out the fucks, I write them in my own books AND I’ve made hundreds of pieces of art with FUCK on it.
NEW. FAVORITE. WORD. So fun, so healing, such a great way to make it clear that I don’t clutch my pearls at the word “fuck” while being nonchalant about harm being done to people (and so often in God’s name).
I’d love to hear your “foul” language history if you’re up for sharing!
Anne Lamott was my gateway to progressive Christianity. I remember when I first read her books being absolutely (but delightedly) shocked by her language, her hatred of Bush & Cheney, and the fact that she was a Democrat and a Christian. But I fell in love with her honesty and vulnerability and the relatability of her writing and feelings. I never used to say any bad words...I was taught it was sinful and wrong and never necessary. But then I started deconstructing and shifting my faith and was so angry about so many things and I needed ALL the bad words....especially fuck and shit and asshole and flipping people off. Then I watched a documentary about how people who curse (and it matters that you use real curse words, not darn it or similar fake ones) and especially the ones who say fuck can tolerate painful moments longer. The study was holding your hand in ice cold water....and the ones who kept saying FUCK could last significantly longer. And a new study is being done to find out if this still works if you say the words in your head and not out loud.
Anyways, all that to say...I fully embrace all the curse words now and while I do censor myself around my nieces and nephews, and my mom, and at work....in my personal life and especially in my car I say them all loudly and proudly and without one single FUCK to give.
A virtuous southern young lady never used “bad” language. However, when I went to college, also in the south (not that that probably matters), we girls started using the word “shit” and progressed from there. Freedom like Jon Batiste sings it!