WHAT’S SO GREAT ABOUT FINISHING A BOOK? By Gene Perret

WHAT’S SO GREAT ABOUT FINISHING A BOOK?  By Gene Perret

I’ve just written a book entitled Write Your Book Now!.  And I teach a class about starting and finishing a book.  The thrust of both the book and the class is that it’s not important that your book be written well, that it be a best seller, or even that it be published.  What matters is that you start and finish it.

            As an aspiring author, you should resolve to stick with your writing until your book is completed.  Following are some of the benefits of finishing the book you start:

It’s Done! 

            On certain days my spouse will remind me, “When are you going to put the trash out?”  It’s a glorious moment when I can reply, “I already have.”  Admittedly, it’s not often that I can respond that way, but it is satisfying when I can.  Any chore is less bothersome once it’s finished.  A garage that you’ve already cleaned is much more enjoyable than a garage that needs cleaning. Would you rather say, “I have to go to the dentist today at 10 o’clock,” or would you prefer to say “Wow, dah wadda so bah” (translated that’s “Wow, that wasn’t so bad” spoken after you come home from having had the dental work done, but while you still have a jaw full of novocaine)? 

            As my writing colleagues used to say, “It’s better to have written than to have to write.”  That’s a more literate way of saying, “Now we have to write the damn thing.” 

            Any unfinished task implies that there is still work to be done.  Some tasks are more pleasant than others, and a few we hardly consider work at all.  But even those, if uncompleted, still require effort and concern.  Reading a good book, for example, is enjoyable.  Nevertheless, if you’re like me, you periodically glance at the closed book to see where the bookmark is and to determine how far along you are.  You want to know how much more reading you have to do to finish the book.  You’re enjoying the process, yet you’re eager to finish.

            Once any task is finished, though, the work is done. 

            Completing the book you want to write affords you the pleasure of announcing, “It’s done.”

It’s a Relief

            My wife and I recently had a bathroom remodeled in our home.  The contractor estimated it would be a two week project.  It wasn’t.  Actually, it probably required more than two weeks of us asking repeatedly, “When are you going to get done?”  As with all such home improvement ventures it took longer and caused much more distress than was predicted or anticipated.  Once the work was completed, my wife said, “Now, what we have to work on . . . “ and I interrupted her.  I said, “No, we’re not making any more home improvements for at least the next 56 years.”

            Most projects, whether it’s a major home remodeling job or simply a magazine article you’re working on, are a disruption.  They upset your normal schedule.  That doesn’t mean they’re bad; it means they’re intrusive.  Getting them done and out of the way, gets you back to your normal activities.

            As an example, I sometimes get writing inspiration in the middle of the night.  The muse often visits me at very inconvenient hours.  I wish I could find a muse that works 9 to 5, but apparently, muses are very independent and often inconsiderate.  Anyway, I’ll sometimes get ideas while I’m sleeping.  They wake me.  My first response is to try to make mental notes.  I’ll repeat the ideas over and over in my head so that I’ll be sure to remember them when I’m finally awake.  I don’t want to lose the brilliant phrasing that I’ve created (at least, it seems brilliant in my semi-conscious state). 

            Sometimes I’ll even reach over to my bedside stand, grab a pencil and a sheet of paper, and scribble notes to myself.  This is no relief, though, because from experience I’ve learned that this tactic is worthless.  In the morning, my scribbles in the darkness are either illegible or if I can read them, they make no sense.  Sometimes I’ve jotted down inspiring thoughts only to discover when I read them in the morning that they say something like, “True love is a green tomato.” 

            However, there are times when the mid-sleep inspiration is worthwhile, but it’s also disruptive.  I think about it so much that it prevents me from falling back to sleep.  The only solution I’ve found that really works is to get up and write out the thought in a legible hand.  Once it’s safely recorded, I can dismiss it and return to my peaceful sleep.

            The book you want to write is disruptive in a positive way.  It can occupy your thoughts at inauspicious and inconvenient times.  It’s in your head, goading you to get it on paper.  Once you finish writing it, it’s a relief.

It’s a Sense of Accomplishment

            The Boy Scouts of America have a commendable approach to recognizing achievement.  A scout studies a particular skill, performs the required assignments, and is tested and evaluated by an approved counselor, that scout receives a Merit Badge.  It’s a physical sign that the projects have been completed satisfactorily.  The scout not only has the personal sense of satisfaction, but also a medallion that verifies that.  He can wear the patch on his sleeve or his sash to proclaim that he is now proficient in First Aid, Swimming, Archery, Art, Woodworking, or whatever. 

            It’s a proud moment to complete any project.  As I mentioned, I was delighted to be able to say when my wife asked, “The trash is already out.”  A small accomplishment, but an accomplishment none the less.

            Notice the pride on the faces of youngsters as they parade onstage to receive their diplomas at graduation.  “It’s done,” their emotions seem to shout.  “It’s done and paid for,” their parents seem to proclaim.  Completing a task – any task – is an accomplishment to be proud of.

            So long as a task remains unfinished, there’s always a chance that it could remain unfinished.  As philosopher and ballplayer Yogi Berra used to say, “It ain’t over till it’s over.”  As you continue to work on a project, you do progress toward its completion.  However, you also keep alive the prospect of failure – not completing the project.  Once you finish it, though, you remove once and for all the possibility that you won’t finish it.

            “How’s that book of yours coming along?” acquaintances might ask.  Even if you haven’t touched the book in several months, you’ll reply, “It’s coming along fine.”

            Wouldn’t it be much more satisfying to respond, “It’s done”?

It Is Recorded

            Several years ago I was working on a writing assignment and had completed a goodly portion of it.  As I sat staring at the computer screen, trying to come up with a fitting ending for the piece, my mind and my eye began to wander.  I saw a small button on the computer tower that I had never noticed before.  I reached down and touched it.  Nothing happened . . . I thought.  When I glanced back at the screen it was blank.  I had triggered the “reset” button.  It erased all my work.

            I couldn’t recall every word that I had put into the file, so I had to begin writing the piece from scratch.  It taught me to periodically save my work. Get it on paper or into a file that is permanent – one that I can get to again.  Otherwise, it may be irretrievably lost.

            I worked as a gag-writer for Bob Hope for almost 30 years.  Whenever a group of us would gather, we’d tell and retell the same stories over and over again.  Each of us had a favorite that we felt we had a proprietary right to.  As one writer would tell his or her story, it would remind another writer of his or her favorite Bob Hope tale.  All of us had heard the stories before, but we enjoyed the fresh narration each time. 

            Two of us writers decided that these stories should be preserved.  We wrote a book called “Talk about Hope,” that included many of our favorite anecdotes.  It’s interesting that when I reread this book occasionally, I’ll often find a story that I’ve completely forgotten about.  Also, with some of the tales that I do recall, I’ve forgotten the names of some of the people involved. 

            As these stories happened it seemed they would be in my memory, unchanged, forever.  They aren’t.  The details become vague, the names become irretrievable, and sometimes the entire incident evaporates. 

            You have a tale to tell, a book to write.  Presently, it’s quite vivid in your mind and seems as though it could never be lost.  That may be true, but there are no guarantees.  However, once you commit it to paper, it becomes permanent.  It’s recorded history.  It’s captured.

            You want to write a book now because you have something to say.  Now is the time to say it.  It’s fresh in your soul and it’s important to you.  It could be important to many others.  So say it.  Get it on paper.  The only way to do that is to finish the book.

You Learn

            For almost 19 years, I hosted an annual seminar for comedy writers and performers.  Many of my television writing friends would serve on the faculty.  One particular writer insisted on being there every year.  I said to him once, “I’m grateful that you come here to teach every year, but I must ask you . . . ‘Why do you do it?’”  He thought about his response for a moment then said, “Because I learn so doggone much.”

            This was a gentleman who came to teach and to advise, yet he admitted that he learned from the experience.  The same is true when you start, work on, and complete your book.

            You’ll learn in several ways and on several levels.

            First, you’ll learn to become a better writer.  It’s not a curriculum you advance through; it’s a matter of learning by doing, by experience.  Many fine writers say that there only three ways to learn to write.  They are to write, to write, and to write.  Each time you write, you not only learn more about writing, but you also learn more about you and your writing.  You begin to develop your voice.

            Going back to comedy for a moment, Phyllis Diller once told me that there is no such thing as a good beginning comic.  She said, “They’re all terrible.”  This wasn’t a condemnation of young comics because Phyllis Diller included herself in the statement.  She admitted when she first began she was less than a sensation.  What Phyllis meant with this statement was that it takes time for comedy performers to find their voice, their style, their comfort level.  It’s something they        learn by doing.

            The same is true for writers.  You learn to improve by writing, by writing, and by writing.

            Second, you’ll learn to meditate and to think.  Very few writers can sit down at a keyboard and turn out good stream of consciousness writing.  Some can and they’re blessed.  Most of us can’t.  Let me return again to comedy.  I once did a military show with Bob Hope and Lucille Ball was a guest on the show.  At one point, Bob Hope suggested that he wanted to do an ad-lib talk spot on stage with Lucy.  As the writer, I was the one who told Lucille Ball of the added element in the show.  I said, “Bob would like to do a short talk spot with you.”

            She said, “Where’s the script?”

            I said, “Well, Bob thought you and he could just go onstage and ad-lib for a few minutes.”

            She said, “Where’s the script?”

            I said, “Well, there’s no script.  Bob just wanted to chat informally with you.”

            She said, “I did this once with him during World War II.  We were supposed to go onstage and ad-lib.  Once I got there, he had tons of funny jokes his writers had provided for him and I had nothing.  I want to see a script.”

            I had to write a script.

            Good comedy seems unrehearsed and improvisational.  Thought has to go into making it seem that way.  Much thought has to go into good writing, too.  In planning, writing, and completing a book, you’ll learn to ponder each of the points you want to convey.  You’ll discover the premeditation involved in writing a coherent, effective chapter.  You’ll learn to think like a writer.

            Third, you’ll learn to do research.  Regardless what subject you’re writing on, you can’t possibly know everything about it.  Somehow, sometime, some way you’ll need to bolster the information you have with information that others have supplied. 

            What additional knowledge do you need?  Where do you find that information?  How do you sort it into usable chunks?  How do you convert what you learn into language that your readers can understand?  These are skills that you become more proficient in as you plan, write, and complete your book.

            Fourth, you’ll learn from the research you do.  Obviously, if you’re looking for more facts, and you find them, you’ve learned something about your topic.  So in trying to educate or edify your audience, you’re educating yourself. 

            Fifth, we’ve said a few times (and we’ll say it many more times) that writing a book is a daunting task.  It can be fun and it’s certainly worthwhile, but it’s not easy.  It requires patience, perseverance, planning, and discipline.  But it’s all do-able.

            In writing and completing this book, you’re teaching yourself how to write and complete a book.  You’ll teach yourself to think through what you want to say and how to say it.  You’ll learn to format your book – break it down into sections and chapters.  You’ll force yourself to think through your chapters so that the writing will be organized, coherent, and captivating.  In order to get through the book in a reasonable amount of time, you’ll learn to develop a schedule that is sensible yet challenging.  You’ll discipline yourself to stick to that schedule you’ve laid out. 

            Bottom line, by writing a book, you’re learning how to write a book.

            Sixth, you’ll learn a bit about the book publishing business.  If you’re working with a publisher, you’ll be introduced to some of the realities of that world.  As an example, I recently wrote a fictional book called Breakfasts with Archangel Shecky.  Shecky was basically a teacher and had some salient points on success that he wanted to convey to his protege.  The publisher asked that these points be highlighted in some way in the book.  Since most of the conversations took place at a bar or in a restaurant, we had Shecky write his advice on napkins.  Each napkin then would be featured on a single page of the book.  I learned then, that the text had to be spaced out in such a way that there would be room for each napkin to be on a facing page opposite the advice in the text.  It was more a problem for the book designer than for me, but several changes had to be made in the text to accommodate this requirement.

            Also, as the writer, I wanted some of the bits of advice to be highlighted more than others so I typed them in red ink.  And the napkins we designed were also written in red ink.  I found out from the publisher that this would be too expensive to implement.  I had to go back and change some of the dialogue so that instead of writing the advice with a red marking pen, Shecky wrote the advice and underlined it.  Underlining, I learned, is less expensive than printing with red ink.

            A publisher, too, will most likely assign an editor to make corrections to your writing.  You’ll receive copies of all the edits and you’ll be astounded at how your writing can be improved. 

            Just by being associated with people who publish books for a living, you’ll get a great education in writing and publishing.

            However, even if you’re planning on publishing your book on your own, you’ll pick up some good tips.  You’ll still have to design the book and there’s an education in that.  You’ll discover the various costs of reproducing your text.  You’ll uncover different ways of binding your book. 

            Finish your book and you’ll probably learn more than you ever wanted to know about producing this book, but probably less than you’ll need to know about producing your next one. 

            Seventh, once you have a book in your hands – whether from a publisher or self-produced – you’ll begin to study the art of promoting that book.  You’ve finished a book; now you have to let the world know that your finished book is available.  As you promote your book, you’ll learn more and more about how to promote your book.

Others Learn

            You’re working on a book because you have something you want to say, some information that you want to impart to others.  However, they can’t get learn from a manuscript that is only partially completed and sitting on a shelf in your office.  They can only learn from a completed book. 

            Inspiration is part of the learning process also.  Readers can be inspired by your information.  What they learn from you can often convince them that their goal is reasonable and attainable.  But again, that inspiration is only available if the book is available. 

It Can Be Therapeutic

            Some of us may carry an emotion within us that we long to release.  It might be a tribute to a loved one that we feel is overdue.  It could be reliving a painful, sorrowful, or traumatic experience.  Possibly, it’s an attempt to correct an injustice.  A few of us may have a solution to perceived problems that we feel the world should know about.

Getting whatever it is we have to say on to paper can be cathartic.  We all recognize that a friend with a problem will often say, “I just need someone to talk to.”  Writing a book is, in effect, having someone to talk to.  In plain words, it can be a relief to simply get it off our chest.

It Proves You Can Do It

Years ago, it was considered physically impossible for anyone to run the mile in less than four minutes.  The common belief was that it had never been done and never would be done.  Then on May 6, 1954, Roger Bannister achieved the impossible.  He finished a sanctioned mile run in 3 minutes and 59.4 seconds. 

            Of course, sports enthusiasts believed it was an aberration; no one would ever do it again.  They were wrong.  Bannister’s world record lasted less than 51 days.  On June 21^st of the same year, Australia’s John Landy recorded a 3:58.0 mile.

            The current world record for that distance is 3:43.13 and there are several thousand runners who belong to the sub-four minute mile club.  The four-minute mile was a psychological barrier.  Once Bannister proved that it could be done, other runners began to believe it, too.  And to do it.

            Finishing your book proves to you that you can finish a book.  Once you complete one book, you can complete another . . . and another . . . and another.

            Around 1979, a publisher asked me to write a book.  I was flattered, but flustered.  I couldn’t write a book.  I was basically a joke writer.  A reasonably sized book would require 60,000 to 70,000 words.   My writing consisted of a straight line, a punch line, and I was done.  A complete volume of text, to me, was as inconceivable as the four-minute mile. 

            However, with the publisher’s prodding and help, I published my first book in 1980.  Since then, I’ve published about 40 more books.

            So finishing your book is not only confirmation that you can complete a book, but also inspiration to begin and finish other books.

It’s Just a Kick

It doesn’t matter whether it’s hardbound, softbound, or even a manuscript – it’s still a kick to hold a completed book in your hands.  You can heft it, you can riffle through the pages, you can open it randomly and rejoice in reading something brilliant that you’ve written.  There’s no other word – it’s just a kick.

            When I did publish my first book, I used to kid that I would go to the bookstore and just stand near it, hoping that someone would recognize me from my picture on the back cover.  Sure enough, that first day nine people came up to me.  Two wanted my autograph; seven wanted their money back.  It didn’t matter – it was still a kick.

            Finish your book and feel that exhilaration.