A Writer's Guide to Marathon Running

Writing a story is a lot like running a marathon. Of course, I've never run a marathon. Aside from the fact that they are 26 miles long and they have to wrap you in tin foil like a burrito when you're done so that your body doesn't cool down too fast and lump up like melted cheese . . . I don't know anything about running marathons. I am talking completely out of my butt here, marathon-wise.

But let's just go with how I imagine a marathon is run. Because you've all just started one in my head, and I want to you get to the finish line!

In my experience, writing a story tends to go something like this:

MILES 1-5, THE "FEELING GOOD" STAGE

When she first has an idea, The Writer feels like a bit of a genius. It feels like her head is glowing. "I really am the brightest bulb in the lamp," she says to herself. "And my light shineth over all and illuminaneth the darkness! The word I'm looking for is bright. That's what I am. Bright."

Because she is feeling so super-shiny-smart and fresh, The Writer gets right down to business. She writes and writes. She writes notes about what she writes. Oh, how she writes! Look at her go! She is so fast!

MILES 6-15, THE "WHY DIDN'T I JUST TAKE UP SCRAPBOOKING?" STAGE

The Writer has been going for a while now, but is now saying to herself, "Writing a story is a seriously long process. Why didn't I just start making something simple, like a pot holder? I could have made, like, a dozen potholders by now. Or I could have put all of my pictures into color-coordinated albums. But no. Not me. I had to start this story. And instead I am still working on this one paragraph that just WILL NOT DIE!"

Sadly, this is when a lot of people slow down or eventually give up their writing.

F. Scott Fitzgerald said, "All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath." You're alone, you feel like you are running out of air, and you're doing something weird. You've only gotten part of the way through it.

Keep going. Keep going if you feel shaky and think you can't do it. That's a sign that you're actually getting somewhere. You're tired because you've been working! Commit to finishing. Make yourself SWEAR to finish.

MILES 16-23, THE "PLEASE LET ME FALL INTO A SINKHOLE" STAGE

Things are starting to get to The Writer. Everything aches. She has committed to finishing her story, even if it kills her, which it definitely will. With every painful step, she hits a new problem. There's that page that doesn't want to be written, that character who keeps saying the wrong thing, and that really important part that she hasn't figured out yet, the one people call "the middle."

She's not going quickly, but she's taking it step by step. She is going forward, word by word. Sure, she wants to stop sometimes, but she doesn't.

MILES 24 AND 25, THE "I MIGHT ACTUALLY MAKE THIS" STAGE

"Wait," The Writer says to herself, looking over her pages in amazement. "Is this possible? Have I almost written my story?"

With the prospect of a finish line, she feels the blood coming back to her brain a little. Some of that early speed comes back. That annoying character suddenly stops acting like such a problem child. That impossible page starts to materialize. No, it may not be perfect, but it is there, and it is getting clearer every second.

MILE 26, THE GLORY MILE

The Writer doesn't feel the pain or the effort anymore. She is over the hump. The story feels like it is writing itself. And then comes the shocking moment when she realizes that it is done.

Writers do not get tinfoil blankets or medals when they are done writing. (Though I feel that we should. I would like these things. Medals and tinfoil blankets are shiny.)

But we do have our stories, which are better. So come on out, start writing, and don't stop until your story is done.

Love,
mj

Maureen Johnson
Author of 13 Little Blue Envelopes