The art of writing a draft
A single drawing on a post-it can give birth to a comprehensive piece of writing. Are you ready to kickstart your writing with a single stroke of ink?
I believe that deep down we are all writers. As human beings, we experience the world in similar ways, and every one of us holds that one story that urges to be told. Only a few years ago, if I were to sit down to begin a piece of writing, I’d shortly begin giving up on this ludicrous idea, at least after finding myself unable to kickstart or continue the storyline.
The piece of writing has to start somewhere, go somewhere, and sit down when it gets there.
“The piece of writing has to start somewhere, go somewhere, and sit down when it gets there.” This ingenious sketch was said by no one but John McPhee, a proclaimed profilist and professor from Princeton University, who, over the course of his lasting career developed a multitude of storylines, and who recently released the ultimate writing masterclass in the shape of, ironically, a single book. Draft №4 is a guide to the non-fiction writing process. The book holds a significant revelation onto the process of structuring your manuscript, and in the case with McPhee, all it takes are a pen, paper, and vivid game of associations.
Our struggle to begin the piece of writing is downing. One might have the idea and the research insights in place and still observe the clock tick the day away. What McPhee really teaches us is the art of structuring a story, in a way that makes it non-linear and dynamic.
Learning is a matter that I take close to heart. I’m in awe with its complexity and challenge it provides to designers and educators alike.
I began writing a piece for Non Architecture competitions, an initiative project that tries to bring up unconventional architecture designs, purely inspired by a single activity. This Spring, the world would see the unconventional designs for Learning via the book that presents a myriad of architecture and design projects inspired by the subject.
As it happens, learning is a matter that I take close to heart. I’m in awe with its complexity and challenge it provides to designers and educators alike. Creating spaces where learning happens is a responsible task, yet also laborious and to a certain extent inadequate. One needs to see the internal, contextual needs of the learners and learning process itself, while also understand external forces that shape the social setting and curriculum.
I wrote 500 words and erased it with a loud sigh shortly after. No one wants to get a history lesson in their leisure time.
My very first draft started with the classical linear description of how classrooms came to be. I wrote 500 words and erased it with a loud sigh shortly after. No one wants to get a history lesson in their leisure time. So, I replaced my laptop with a pen and post-its, and carefully put down key subjects that needed to be addressed. Gradually I clustered them and moved them around the table.
The word timeless has been popping up on my mind, and the structure suddenly came to me. I tore off a post-it and drew an infinity loop. It became clear that timelessness will be the point of opening and the closure of the essay — at first to intrigue, and then to call to action in the end. I wanted to make learning appear as something that has no particular starting or ending point, and instead show it as a transformable, moulding being.
Next on, I labelled the loops. A learning context — the very definition of space where learning happens — as well as forces that shape learning format and space— the events and mindsets that come from the outside — were the next topics of importance. They took their rightful place at the opposite sides of the infinity loop, symbolising both internal and external elements of learning that blend together and fuel one another.
As I followed the loop with my eyes, I could see the story shaping. The high and low points of the loop drew “high-level” and “low-level” lines that were guiding me from quite abstract to specific points of discussion consequently. This helped me to structure areas where I can follow my thoughts vs. give precise examples, without it being static flow.
Lastly, the intersection of the infinity loop made me place the last subject on the table — flexibility. When it comes to learning, flexibility acts as a natural threshold between context and forces, between fixation and adaptability. At last, the structure was finished, and I was only left to follow it.
The first draft came to be quite effortlessly. It left me astonished as the storyline that appeared was original, and the topics blended naturally with one another.
Could I have made the same without messing up with post-its and drawing loops? I suppose I could have come to that point eventually, not without an obvious tiring struggle. Quite frankly, visual aid for the structure, as experimental as it is, works miracles.
Show, don’t tell, and you’ll excel.
🍕 Thank you for reading this article, and I genuinely hope that it got you inspired to do more writing! If you’re interested in the actual piece I wrote for Non Architecture, it’s now available via Medium and Non Achitecture Publications.
In the meantime, follow me on Twitter and Instagram for fascinating updates as I endure my book writing and exploration journey on stronger sustainability practices in design & tech. 🙏
