That Niggling Feeling

Niggle: “To cause slight but persistent annoyance, discomfort, or anxiety” (Oxford American Dictionary)

Lately I’ve been thinking about something Amanda Jenkins said in a VCFA lecture about listening to “that niggling feeling” when we’re writing. Basically, she says it’s learning to pay attention to your gut and honing the ability to determine when that niggling feeling is a result of a legitimate problem in your manuscript or if it’s a result of fear. Let’s back it up: what exactly is a niggling feeling (and is it ticklish, perhaps?). Basically, it’s when you’re writing and you know that something just isn’t right. Maybe you’ve written something terribly clever and a part of you knows your character would never say that, but you’re really rivaling Oscar Wilde at the moment and you know everyone’s gonna love that line so much, they’ll put it on T-shirts, right? Take it out, my friend. Or maybe you’ve written a scene and you know it’s a bit sappy, but you love it so much that you keep it in, even though every time you read it, your eyes snag on the especially swoony parts and you feel a little embarrassed, like you got caught watching a sappy Lifetime movie. In the trash bin, amigo. But wait! You have a scene that is totally necessary because it explains x,y, and z about your character and, sure, it’s a little dumpy, it could have more finesse, but it’s so very essential you see because—camerado, you know what to do and where that scene needs to go (hint: delete).

 

The above are examples of the niggling feeling telling you when your writing isn’t up to snuff, or you’ve wandered into a grey area that doesn’t dazzle with the authenticity of your characters or story.  For whatever reason, you keep going back to that scene, sentence, or even one word that gives you pause. It takes a lifetime to develop the ability to know what exactly isn’t working (this is where a commitment to craft comes in), but it doesn’t take quite that long to start recognizing that feeling and listening to it. Try it. Go through your WIP (or a scene you already have in mind that’s been giving you the nigglies) and try to see if you can figure out what the deal is with it. Is it out of voice? Perhaps it’s you, the author, putting words into a character’s mouth that they’d never say. Or maybe the pacing is off—does it drag? Look out for clichés—something about the scene feels dry: maybe it’s because you’re using a phrase or scenario that’s been done to death. Maybe it doesn’t move the story forward—it’s a nice moment, but it does nothing to help move the plot along. Check in with your characters’ emotions—maybe you’re having them experience a feeling they wouldn’t actually be having at that moment, or not carrying the emotion from the previous scene into the current one. Whatever it is, fix it. Or delete it. It might take you several tries to get the moment right. A good way to develop this skill is to listen for the niggling feeling when you’re reading other people’s books. Notice if something stands out or a scene just isn’t working. Chances are, the author ignored their own niggling feeling. Then again, reading is so subjective – what doesn’t work for you, might work for someone else. But pay attention to what gives you that niggling feeling so that you will recognize it in your own writing.

 

Whenever I have scenes where I get the nigglies that I particularly like—ones I daydreamed about and read over and over because I loved them so much—I’m often in a state of denial. I’ll play games with myself where I keep putting it off, trying to convince myself of why that bit needs to stay in. Eventually, I cut it. But I have a little funeral (not really, but I do mourn). One way to do this without feeling like you’re cutting off a limb or sacrificing your first child to a vengeful god is to have an outtakes folder. It doesn’t feel so terribly permanent. You can go visit the scene, give it hugs and say hello. You’ll feel guilty that you abandoned it, but don’t worry: it will have plenty of company.

 

That niggling feeling might feel different for everyone. It might not even be physical for you—maybe it feels a bit like someone pushed pause on your brain for a second. For some reason, you keep looking at this scene. For me, it’s literally a gut feeling, akin to butterflies. It’s like my body knows before my mind that I’m going to have to lose something I love or do some hardcore not-very-fun writing. The latter points to that niggling feeling being about fear. It’s me looking at a scene and knowing that, damn, I have to fix that, don’t I? And it’s going to be a lot of work—all trudging through swamps and falling into quicksand and batting pythons out of the way. Oh, dear.

 

You have to gradually figure out what your niggling feeling is telling you—fight or flight? It’s one of the most important skills you can develop as a writer and the sooner, the better. It’s always hard work, but you’ll realize that if you put in the effort, your manuscript will always be better for it. Even if someone tells you what you want to hear, that it’s okay, keep that part in: obey the niggling feeling!

 

Then go eat you some chocolate.

 

Happy writing!