Why Writing, Like the Rest of Life, Is So Difficult

I have a lot less energy as a researcher and writer than I once had, and my memory isn't as keen as it used to be.  But I have learned how to work much more efficiently than when I felt compelled to write down every shred of evidence I came across on a given topic.

Part of what I have learned is that it is very difficult to tell what a book is about until one has started to write it.  Dr. Robert Wiebe had told me this back in 1982 when I was a graduate student at Northwestern: you don't really know if you have a sound argument until you write it down and try to support it. The evidence often turns out to be different from what one expected, and the process of reading one's notes and trying to make sense of them often opens up new and very unexpected insights.

I was recently reminded of this discomfiting fact while working on a chapter of what I hope will be a book on the history of how Americans  have viewed Africa.  The chapter is on the decade after World War II, and most of the Hollywood movies and articles in popular magazines depicted white (usually male) quests in wild Africa.  But a few white writers approached Africa with much more empathy and respect for its humans, and all of these writers were women.  Louise Stinetorf, for example, wrote quite a popular novel, The White Witch Doctor, which became a Hollywood movie that largely obscured her African-centric message.  But in going over my very rough first draft, I noticed this gendered pattern in how Africa was interpreted and found that she had written other books (another adult novel and some children's stories) about Africa that had the same message.  So Stinetorf--and several other women like her--are going to take up many more pages in my manuscript than I had anticipated, and they will change the trajectory of its argument.

Writing is difficult, like the rest of our lives.  We would like to be always sure of where we are going and how we are getting there.  But our maps are smudged and faulty; we must continually stop and reconsider our route and our purpose.  But if we can live with these uncertainties we are rewarded with delicious surprises.