Year: 2015 | Melanie Bates

On Writing the “Shitty First Draft”

April 21, 2015/6 Comments/by Melanie Bates

I’ve been working on the same novel since 1999. Let me do the math for you. That’s sixteen years, folks. Now, mind you, I wasn’t “applying ass to chair” every day of those sixteen years. I took a five-year hiatus to drink my face off in Cleveland, for example. I was on break during my divorce and moves back and forth across country. I was definitely on leave during my five surgeries.

When I look back with my hindsight goggles, however, there weren’t many days that went by when I wasn’t thinking about my story and my characters. (Okay, perhaps while plugged into the morphine drip, but otherwise, yeah, I was writing in my head the whole time.)

On paper, I had written 224 pages of my trilogy. One day last fall I decided it was time to get back to it. (I’ve often wondered if I had a whole lot of living to do before I could tell this story. I think there’s real truth there or, at least, that’s the story I’m sticking to.) Suffice it to say, I signed up for a master’s program, trashed my glorious 224 pages, plus notes, and started over on draft number two which, in essence, is really just another first draft because, just like me, my beloved novel had changed. I’m 128 pages in this go-round and, holy hell, is it awful.

Disclaimer: My “glorious” 224 pages were awful too. A complete and utter heaping pile of bat dung.

I’m not being modest.

Trust me.

The state of my second attempt at a fecal first draft has me pondering the brilliance of Anne Lamott and her concept of the “shitty first draft.” I haven’t read “Bird by Bird” (my favorite writing book of all time) for years, but I’ve used the term “shitty first draft” a billion times since then in my writing coaching. I’m not going to try to recreate Anne’s words or write them in my own voice because you just shouldn’t fuss with perfection. Here’s what she has to say:

“…shitty first drafts. All good writers write them. This is how they end up with good second drafts and terrific third drafts. People tend to look at successful writers who are getting their books published and maybe even doing well financially and think that they sit down at their desks every morning feeling like a million dollars, feeling great about who they are and how much talent they have and what a great story they have to tell; that they take in a few deep breaths, push back their sleeves, roll their necks a few times to get all the cricks out, and dive in, typing fully formed passages as fast as a court reporter. But this is just the fantasy of the uninitiated. I know some very great writers, writers you love who write beautifully and have made a great deal of money, and not one of them sits down routinely feeling wildly enthusiastic and confident. Not one of them writes elegant first drafts. All right, one of them does, but we do not like her very much. We do not think that she has a rich inner life or that God likes her or can even stand her. (Although when I mentioned this to my priest friend Tom, he said you can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.)”

Here’s the rub… As I re-read those words I realized I really did think I would get an exemption. A hall pass. An official letter that said, “Hey, you’ve read thousands of books in all the genres, you’ve taken every writing course known to man, you went for a bachelor’s in creative writing and now you’re working on a master’s in the same vein. You’ve studied all the craft books. You’ve been blogging consistently since 2009. You go ahead and write out your brilliance on the first take.” I quite literally believed that all of those logged hours of writing, reading, studying, and helping folks to birth their own books, would mean I was off the hook for the “shitty first draft.”

I wasn’t.

But in knowing this concept inside and out, what strikes me most is what a hard time I give myself over my crappy writing. I mean, this is my work in the world. I give writers permission to write their own shitty first draft every single day. I profess it like a mantra. I’m sure my clients would like to bash my head in sometimes. I also give writers full autonomy to write what comes and I advise them to keep the creation process wholly separate from the editing process so their inner critic can’t raise its ugly head so often, or so harshly. And their books are born that way. Yet somehow, I assumed that my book baby would rush out of my creative center devoid of mucous, cooing happily, and without the cone head.

What an idiot. Or not… How can I say yes to a shitty first draft? Well, for one, I know what I want my book to be and I know it’s not there yet. That is beautiful, people. Enough cannot be said about that inherent knowing of how you want your work to be in the world; of how you see it in its future incarnation; of how glorious is its potential. That’s where all my logged hours of reading and study comes in. I know what makes up a good book, for me, and I know I’m not there yet. So I get to sit, draft after draft, and clean off the slime. If I didn’t enjoy the process so much, I’d take up nail filing or something.

Regardless, I don’t get a hall pass. I don’t get an exemption certificate. No letter is coming anytime soon. I get to sludge through every gaping hole in my plot. I get to tackle every character detail disconnect until I know my characters as well as I know myself. I get to swim upstream through my passive voice and my cloyingly annoying adverbs and -ing words. <— See what I did there?

Just like every other writer in the world.

[tweetthis]No writer gets a hall pass excusing them from writing a “shitty first draft.”[/tweetthis]

Except that one woman Anne mentioned.

And… I don’t like her very much either.

For my visual peeps out there:

Are Dogs & Kids Just Mirrors of Our Own Energy?

March 28, 2015/6 Comments/by Melanie Bates

So… my boyfriend has been insisting that we get a shock collar for the love of my life. (No way. Ever. Not gonna happen.) When I went searching for kinder options, I was floored to find myself looking in the mirror.

I should preface this blog by saying: I don’t have kids. Unless you count my three pups, which I do. Let me introduce you:

Sancho

12-year old son of my boyfriend whom I adopted posthaste the moment I met him. He’s a silky soft Chiuahua who is both mean and sweet and highly introverted like his mom. I’ve never met a more regal dog and yet he follows me around like I’m the pied piper. He’s highly food motivated and would do anything for a piece of popcorn or a nibble of cheese. Beef? Forget about it. His favorite place in the world is cuddled up next to me on the bed. (Under the covers, of course.)

So-Kr8z

5-year old Yorkshire Terrier. Even folks who don’t like dogs, love So-Kr8z. Warning: He will lick the back of your throat with his Gene Simmons-esque tongue if you let him. He’s addicted to licking sheets and chomping on squeaky balls. He doesn’t play fetch. Nope, he plays keep away. He’s more emotional than I am sans hormones, and barks at a grain of dust, hence my boyfriend’s idea of the shock collar.

Chloé

6-month old French Bulldog. She’ll put anything into her gaping maw: pebbles, cotton, sticks, my arm. She likes to bound off our bed, stumpy limbs outstretched before she lands on the floor to bite her brother’s tails. She races around the house like Mario Andretti, her big bum sliding into bookcases and knocking things off tables until So-Kr8z catches her and puts her in her place.

So… there they are—the loves of my life, but back to the non-high-voltage options. I found an article by Cesar Millan in which he said that barking is how dogs communicate. Indeed, yet for the past couple of years I swear So-Kr8z has been desperately trying to tell me something BIGGER—perhaps we have a ghost, or there’s a meteor hurtling toward earth, or maybe it’s been too long since his last trip to the S-paw.

“Bark, bark, bark. There’s a grain of sand. Danger! Bark, bark, bark. There’s a leaf blowing by. Danger! Bark, bark, bark. There’s a cell dividing somewhere. Danger! Bark, bark, bark, bark.”

Cesar went on to say that you can’t cure a dog from barking when your energy is frustrated. Oh, wow! You mean chasing So-Kr8z around the kitchen island in my robe screaming for him to shut up, while Chloé chases me and bites my ankles with her puppy piranha teeth, isn’t the right energy? He goes on to say, “your dog will mirror your energy…. take a moment to curb your own internal barking first.” Ah… I knew this. It’s no different than becoming the lead mare in my horse whispering experience with Koelle Simpson and Martha Beck. If my energy is insane, his will be too. For years I’ve told anyone who would listen, “So-Kr8z is very emotional. He wears his emotions on his sleeve.” Hmmmppfff, didn’t I just actually state that in my description of him above? “Hello there, mirror, nice to see you again.”

A few days later, forgetting all I knew, I watched Sancho guard the food bowl and bare his canines when So-Kr8z came near it. So-Kr8z whined and barked, “I’m starving, man. Cut me some kibble.” I couldn’t understand why Sancho was so protective. There’s never a moment in time when the food bowl is empty. He can have all the food he wants, day or night. The dogs actually have more food in the house than we do.

A few minutes later, hungry, I observed So-Kr8z going after every toy that Chloé picked up, regardless of the fact that there are always, at all times, at least thirty-plus toys on the floor. If she has a squeaky ball, So-Kr8z doesn’t care that there are five identical squeaky balls within a foot of him. He wants the one Chloé has. I couldn’t help but think: Sheesh. I don’t think dogs are very LOA savvy. It’s as if they believe there will never be enough, despite the abundance of evidence that there is always plenty.

Oh, you bastard of a mirror! I spend most days, at one point or another, worrying about not enough. There’s not enough time. I need to do this and this and this and this. I’m in school full-time. I coach all day. I run another business besides. I need to go to the store. I need to cook dinner. I need. I want. There’s not enough. I should.

And… not enough money. The bills are paid, but what if I don’t have enough next month? I have a plethora of clients, but what if they stop showing up? I have a beautiful home, but what if I end up living in a van down by the river, “eating a steady diet of government cheese,” despite my lactose intolerance? But what if? End up. Not enough.

[tweetthis]”‘Mirror, mirror on the wall,’ who has the most issues of all?”[/tweetthis]

Me? Or my dogs?

I’m guessing it’s not so different for parents raising kids. But, pray, do tell. Do you have experience around this with your children – furry or otherwise? How does your energy and your thoughts affect their behavior?

For my visual peeps out there:

Who is Your Ideal Client? (You Might Be Surprised…)

February 26, 2015/4 Comments/by Melanie Bates

I love Aha moments… more than mashed potatoes with a pound of real butter… more than snoring puppies sleeping soft-belly up… more than baby violet crocuses punching through the last bit of spring snow.

A few weeks ago I was coaching a client through some business “muck,” and I asked her to write an ideal client profile.

You’ve heard of those, right? The process is pretty common, but essentially you’re getting clear on your perfect client by writing down their attributes, perhaps what they struggle with, and maybe even detailing their personality a bit. I do this process with most of my business coaching peeps. If you don’t know who you want to invite into the folds of your business, they’re not likely to show up, eh?

I’d grown to know this particular client fairly well over the weeks before I asked her to create her Ideal Client Profile, but when she read me the results, I was dumbstruck.

She was describing herself.

Well… duh! I know it seems obvious. Maybe you’ve already realized this for yourself. But I’d certainly never made the connection.

As soon as our call was over I sat down and wrote out my Ideal Client Profile to test my hypothesis:

My ideal clients are heavily focused on spiritual and emotional growth. They’re full of depth and are ready to dig deep. They’re committed to doing what it takes to get where they want to go. They’re ready to take responsibility for what they’ve created. They’re introspective, philosophical and pretty self-aware. They’re smart too – whip-smart. Often, their work is in being of service to others. They’re great storytellers, but their stories don’t always serve them. They want to become masterful storytellers, weaving tales that empower them. They are well aware that they are the hero or heroine of their own journey and they come to our sessions bearing a scythe to clear the brambles and briars from their path. They listen to the Afternoon Delight station on Pandora. <—- Cut that last one. I don’t really expect my clients to love The BeeGees as much as I do, though that is a bonus.

Yup. I had just described myself.

That was my first Aha, but there was another.

My second Aha came during the conversation that ensued after said client read her profile to me. I felt like I was channeling someone much, much smarter than me. (Boy! That there, folks, is the magic… the reason I love coaching… what keeps me showing up – when I get out of my own way and allow something bigger to speak through me.)

I told my client that I think the fact that we are our own ideal client is the reason that we so often attract folks to us in coaching who are going through something we’ve just passed through ourselves. This is a super common phenomenon that happens in coaching (and in therapy.) I don’t have a name for it – maybe there is one, maybe not – but, inevitably, clients come to you in the throes of an eerily similar situation/feeling that you’ve just worked through yourself. It’s insane and it happens more often than not.

(Disclaimer: As coaches, if we’re still stuck in something, we can’t effectively coach another person through it. We need to either do our own work first to get unstuck or find someone who isn’t sticky to work with that client.)

I then told the client to imagine a cave. If we’re trying to “lead” someone through the darkness and we’re four miles ahead with our flashlights bobbing ahead of us, the client can’t often see their way out. If, instead, we’re walking just slightly ahead, flashlight trained on the ground in front of their feet, they can make the whole journey that way. Borrowing from E.L. Doctorow, “You never see further than your [flashlight], but you can make the whole trip that way.”

Now, is this true 100% of the time? Nope. I have clients who are miles ahead of me, and I have clients who are just getting started. There is something to be said for hiring someone who’s already arrived at the destination you’re headed to.

But make no mistake, we’re all here enrolled in this school called life and we’re all learning from each other.

There were all sorts of Aha’s that stemmed from this. For example, if you are your own ideal client, then your business will morph when you change, no? It also may be why “the WHY” of your business changes.

Help me with this little experiment, won’t you? Write out your Ideal Client Profile and tell me if you see yourself in it? Or give me a kind and gentle chiding and tell me where I’m wrong. Let’s discuss here in the comments.

Melanie Bates – Professional Flashlight Holder

On Queendom & Building Your World (Plus a Gift!!!)

January 24, 2015/0 Comments/by Melanie Bates

Not so very long ago I felt like there was a rent in the fabric of my world.

I was uprooted…

Unsettled.

Undone.

A lot of paradigms shifted for me last year. I was so unraveled that I actually wrote out everything that happened in that 12-month period and sent it to my dear friend and fellow coach, Lisa Hayes, and she wrote an obituary for me for 2014. (I highly recommend this process. Boy, was it super powerful.)

Most folks usually feel pretty firmly planted in their worlds. Normally I do too, but what had seemed like old hat stuff to me, was now new hat stuff and I needed a different hat. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure what kind of hat I liked anymore. I knew it wasn’t a baseball cap that says I ♥ Bieber in tiny diamond rhinestones. It wasn’t a black felt fedora either. It most definitely wasn’t one of those Little House on the Prairie bonnets that Laura Ingalls wore. I felt fairly clear on what kind of hat it wasn’t and that was good. Oftentimes we gain clarity by figuring out what we don’t want.

But, while I was über clear on what I didn’t want, I was struggling mightily to get clear on what I did want, let alone being able to catch the tiniest glimpse of how I wanted to feel in my life. Surgery, deaths, anxiety, a diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis – I’m telling you, it was a rough 2014, to say the least.

I figured I couldn’t possibly be alone in feeling so lost. Surely there were others like me who had trouble getting to that quiet place of contemplation surrounding their desires after an uprooted time in their life. Undoubtedly, there were at least a couple someones who weren’t sure what it was they were looking for. And… one thing I knew for sure? I wasn’t the only one who’d had one helluva tough year.

So… I dove into the core of my savage geekery and pulled out a little writing tool called Worldbuilding. Using my knowledge of deliberate creation and bits and pieces of my Story Shape Shifting program, I began a process of rebuilding my world from the ground up. Suffice it to say, I found my hat.

It’s a crown.

And when I wear it, I remember that I get to build and rule my world.

The journey I took was so powerful, I decided to write up the process and reached out to my favorite designer (Shannon Kaiser of Play With The World) to build it out for me all pretty-like.

And it’s my gift to you.

If you’ve had a rough year, or even if it was only mildly annoying, and you’re looking to change some things up, feel free to download it by opting in here. When you sign up for Worldbuilding: Create Your Life & CLAIM Your Crown, you’ll be automatically re-routed to a page where you can download the PDF document. You’ll also be subscribed to my blog which goes out once or twice a month in newsletter format.