Rudiments

I played drums in my high school and college days to earn a little extra cash on weekends. But before getting to that level, I had to learn my rudiments; rather monotonous exercises that you repeat over and over again until you can practically play them in your sleep. If a drummer wants to be any good, rudiments are a necessary evil. They have funny names, too; paradiddles, flamacues, ratamacues, flamtaps. But once you have them mastered, your coordination and timing will have greatly improved. Aspects of these rudiments can also be combined to come up with an almost infinite number of beats and rhythms. Even when you have them mastered, it's important to continually revisit them in order to keep your hands in shape and your mind sharp.

All skills have their own set of rudiments - and writing is no exception. What are the rudiments of writing? It's not quite as straightforward as the rudiments of drumming. Aside from the obvious - sentence structure, proper use of grammar, the mechanics of dialog - another rudiment that I feel is just as important (and one that I have to constantly remind myself of) is the act of getting the words out. Just writing shit down. Purging it from your mind and getting that raw material on paper so that from there you can use that mess of basic words, fragments and sentences to shape, shape and reshape them into a solid structure - a dwelling into which minds can explore, experiencing, as John Gardiner talked about, the uninterrupted dream that a good story should strive to be.

I find that once I coax those initial words out, no matter how garbled and crappy they may be (and believe me, they are more often than not quite a mess!) I at least know that I feel much more committed to making that story work.