Good Writing Isn’t a 100-Yard Dash

A couple of years ago, I talked with an editor who has sent me writing or editing work on several occasions. She mentioned needing revisions on a book she was ghostwriting.

One chapter in particular needed a complete revamp—and in a hurry.

“How much would you charge to write a new chapter overnight?” she asked.

“A thousand dollars?” I said. I phrased it as a question to see if that was reasonable, but also to let her know I expected a higher-than-normal fee.

“That’s possible,” she said, telling me she would check with the author and let me know what he said.

After 24 hours passed, I assumed the answer was no.

A few days later, I discovered that trying to get approval for extra funds on such short notice was so difficult that she revised the chapter herself.

Not Worth the Money

I’m glad I never landed that job. After contemplating trying to research and write in a non-stop, all-night frenzy, my heart started tap dancing. Would the money be worth it? No.

Now, granted, when the pressure’s on, I can jump into action.

Three decades ago, the editor of a news service called to ask if I could interview a man who lost two grandsons in the Oklahoma City bombing. The deadline: a little over three hours away.

Although I had a recording device attached to my phone line, there was no reason to record a call I wouldn’t have time to transcribe. So during the interview, I scribbled like a madman.

After I hung up and started smashing my keyboard, I kept muttering to myself, “Don’t think. Just write.”

I emailed the story in about 10 minutes early. Then I thought, “That’s why I don’t miss newspaper deadlines.”

Folks have produced even longer content in brief spans of time. I once wrote a story for a trade publication about writers who had produced book-length manuscripts linked to major news events in a month or two.

At the first major Christian writers conference I attended, keynote speaker Jerry Jenkins (coauthor of the Left Behind series) described ghostwriting a book for LA Dodgers’ pitcher Orel Hershiser—including interviews—in two months. It needed to be ready by the spring after the previous season ended.

Know Your Limits

One reason I attended that conference was to pitch a manuscript I had been working on for two years. In the meantime, I produced a slew of magazine and newspaper stories to stay alive.

So, the idea of being able to drop side jobs to focus on one major, Jerry Jenkins-type project sounded heavenly.

Today I know better.

There are several reasons, which any would-be author should keep in mind as they contemplate a possible rush job:

• Under pressure, you may fold

I don’t handle extreme deadlines well. The old saying, “haste makes waste,” applies. I have edited manuscripts for authors who have zipped out requested revisions to existing material so quickly that it amazed me. But I’m not one of those miracle workers.

• A book is not a race to the finish line

Books are like baking. They take time, the right ingredients, and carefully measured production schedules.

• I need variety

I have discovered that spending all day on one project is too mentally draining. I have had jobs where putting in two hours a day—without fail, every day—is doable. One time, I had to edit for three hours every day for nearly two months, and the strain wore me down.

The secret is knowing your limits, which is a sign of strength, not weakness.