For me, writing as an art form is very much analogous to sculpture. Generally speaking, there are two main (and not mutually exclusive) methods employed when “sculpting” a written piece: build-up and chip-away. During build-up, I begin with a general idea and then, to the degree possible, I let the structure evolve organically as words and sentences are added (although I do a fair amount of mid-sentence editing along the way). During chip-away, I take what I have already written and then bend it, balance it, shape it into a clearer, crisper form—here the added texture and fine detail change what I have written from a blankly stated idea to a meaningful expression: a reflection of a small part of my mental and emotional topography as it relates to the subject at hand. Word choice is a major focus during the chip-away phase, but crafting the right syntax is equally—if not more—important. Syntax can add subtle shades of meaning, giving a phrase, a sentence, a paragraph, or a whole section a flavor that mere words cannot carry.
I enjoy both parts of the process, but the chip-away phase leads to the most satisfying experience of “flow.”
What I lack is a more general top-down organizational schematic that could somehow serve to regulate and coordinate the direction of these two phases of the process. This is intentional on my part: having such top-down control interferes with the creative impulse. But because of this, I will occasionally write myself into a corner where I am forced to make a painful choice. In terms of the sculpture metaphor, imagine that you have sculpted a highly textured and most beautifully detailed wing, where each feather is perfectly placed and folds seamlessly in with its neighbor, but then you discover that the overall form is not that of a bird after all, and that from the beginning you have really been sculpting a horse. At this point it becomes very tempting to keep the wing and change directions completely, to abandon the terrestrial horse you started with and go with a Pegasus instead. I have found that the best solution in these cases is to put the wing in a box to be taken out sometime in the future when I know that I have a more avian goal.
Although, truth be known, it can sometimes be very hard to let go, and I have amassed a sizeable collection of hideous and unpublishable chimeras over the years.
