Write crappy things now so that future you may not have to.
I am writing down sentences and imagining someone else reading it. This happens even when I am writing my first draft ever. That someone else is expecting me to produce something of high quality from the get go, which is an unrealistic request. I have noticed, even as I am typing, my impulse to select all of what I just wrote and delete them.
I have always thought times when people can do that are either when they become exceptionally skilled or when they are really inspired. “How come those moments hardly ever came to me?” “How do people ever produce good writings?”
The short answer is they just kept writing, even if (and partly because) they knew that 90% percent of everything they wrote is crap.
Good writing came mostly from editing. Success stories tell us otherwise, because it is counterintuitive and no one believes it. Of course, when we finish editing we wouldn’t talk as much about the first 90% crap that we had created. We also don’t remember them as much.
But they still do count, especially when there is not a visible end result. We talk about those 10% crème de la crème as if those 90 percent hadn’t existed in the first place, but that would be pretty unfair, for both the past self who invested all this time and energy trying their best improving upon a crappy first draft and the future self who will keep believing this nonsense and probably give up trying.
And besides, how would anyone other than myself ever know that I haven’t already created those 10% crème de la crème anyway? Best is always subjective. It is one way in my head but it is always going to be another way in others’.
I will have to write crappy things before I can actually produce something readable. And that is and should be fine by me. Write now. Edit later. Improve always.
I often forget about this. So here’s a kind reminder, I guess: do me a favor, Cornelius, don’t beat yourself up about it.