Writing Mistakes Writers Make: Not Reflecting On Past Writing

The Writer’s Digest team has witnessed many writing mistakes over the years, so this series helps identify them for other writers (along with correction strategies). This week’s mistake is not reflecting on past writing.

Everyone makes mistakes—even writers—but that's OK because each mistake is a great learning opportunity. The Writer's Digest team has witnessed many mistakes over the years, so we started this series to help identify them early in the process. Note: The mistakes in this series aren't focused on grammar rules, though we offer help in that area as well.

Rather, we're looking at bigger picture mistakes and mishaps, including the error of using too much exposition, hiding your pitch, or chasing trends. This week's mistake is ignoring what you know.

Writing Mistakes Writers Make: Not Reflecting On Past Writing

It may be hard to believe, but 2022 is almost over. With whispers of auld lang syne around us, reflecting on the year is a natural reaction to the end of it. We think about our highs and lows, the places we went, the people we saw, the memories we made. For us writers, we also think back on our year of writing.

In the most recent episode of the Writer’s Digest Presents podcast, the editors wrapped up the past year by talking about our favorite projects, the annual conference, books we read, and the writing we’ve done—if we met our personal writing goals and what we hope to achieve in the future.

When I started thinking about it, my mind immediately went to whether or not I finished certain writing projects. If I did, I considered them successful, and if I didn’t, then they were unsuccessful. There is truth to this, but it’s also perhaps too simplistic, and in that thinking did I find a chance to dig deeper.

There are times in my life where an idea has been unknowingly greater than my ability to produce it. Here’s an example: In 2018, I had an idea for a short story that I was particularly excited about. I sat down to begin writing it, and the first half came out of me so naturally that I was certain this was going to be the story that would break my rejection cycle.

And then I got stuck. As a pantser, this happens to me pretty often. Sometimes I’m able to work my way out of it, and other times I need to put the story aside and wait for the momentum to pick up again. With this story, I decided to try and write through it and just put on the page the images that came to my head. Unfortunately, this made the ending feel utterly disconnected from the beginning, like two completely different stories trying to exist as one. I felt both proud of myself for finishing it and disappointed that it wasn’t turning out how I could see it in my head. So, I filed it away as “complete,” but didn’t touch it again and didn’t necessarily plan to.

Cut to 2022. This past year, I chose to do less writing and more learning. I spent the year having one of the best reading years I’ve had in a long time. Between that and interviewing authors for articles and listening in on sessions at the Writer’s Digest Annual Conference, I feel as though I’ve filled the filing cabinets of my brain with new and better ways to move forward with my stories. This has helped not only with new ideas, but with ideas I’ve had in the past. And lately, I haven’t been able to get this “completed” story out of my head. So I recently opened the draft of that story and looked at it anew. I’m still proud of the beginning; the end still needs work. And with the space of time, I could see more clearly how to approach draft two.

This mistake may say “not reflecting on past writing,” but what I think might be truer is not allowing for reflection on stories you just weren’t ready to write yet—on not allowing your past self to be different than your current self. It’s much easier to convince myself that I’m not good enough to write certain stories than for me to realize I just need more practice. In choosing to reflect, I’m able to realize that some ideas need simmering, and patience in the process of my own growth is the secret ingredient in believing in myself.

So often I go back to old drafts and cringe at what I produced. I’m challenging myself to change that behavior, and I’m challenging you to do the same. Change how you think about your past writing and the stories you consider unsuccessful. The idea you had four years ago might be the story you’re supposed to write today. The writing process is a long one, oftentimes nonlinear, so maybe our current selves are the ones to write the ideas our past selves had.

If you want to learn how to write a story, but aren’t quite ready yet to hunker down and write 10,000 words or so a week, this is the course for you. Build Your Novel Scene by Scene will offer you the impetus, the guidance, the support, and the deadline you need to finally stop talking, start writing, and, ultimately, complete that novel you always said you wanted to write.

Michael Woodson is the content editor at Writer's Digest. Prior to joining the WD team, Michael was the editorial and marketing manager for the independent children's book publisher Blue Manatee Press. He was also the associate editor for Artists Magazine and Drawing magazine, and has written for Soapbox Cincinnati, Watercolor Artist, and VMSD magazine. An avid reader, Michael is particularly interested literary fiction and magical realism, as well as classics from Jane Austen, Ernest Hemingway, and E.M. Forster. When he's not reading, he's working on his own stories, going for a run at his favorite park, or cuddling up to watch a movie with his husband Josh and their dog Taran.