This post originally appeared on writingcooperative.com.
After eleven months at home, we’ve finally gotten tired of baking sourdough bread. Don’t get me wrong, my husband makes a mean loaf of bread. But by December, we were ready for a new culinary challenge to distract us from the pandemic.
So of course, Santa brought me a pasta machine and an extruder. A week later, a bag of “Tipo 00” Italian pasta flour arrived at our door. We looked up a basic pasta recipe in our favorite Italian cookbook (River Cafe Cookbook Green) and off we went.
It’s not a quick process — good thing we’re stuck at home indefinitely. First you mix the dough, then knead it for 10 minutes, then refrigerate it before rolling it into walnut-sized balls that go one by one into the extruder. Once you’ve shaped the pasta, it goes back in the fridge before finally being boiled, mixed with any number of delicious sauces, and going straight into our bellies!
And now for the writing metaphor…
Last night, as I waited for our most recent batch of dough to chill, I started thinking about the manuscript I’m drafting right now and how much the writing process is like making pasta. Author Shannon Hale’s view on first drafts is often-quoted: “I’m writing a first draft and reminding myself that I’m simply shoveling sand into a box so that I can build castles.”
I think drafting is more like making pasta than sandcastles. Because writing’s not just shoveling the sand into the sandbox, it’s about starting with the right tools and ingredients, kneading the dough until it’s just right, taking the time to let things rest and cool when they need to, and then shaping the dough into the right shape for the meal you have planned.
Tools and ingredients
The beauty of this complex, diverse world we live in is that there are multiple tools and ingredients that can get the job done in pasta-making, writing, and in life. Rather than dictating that my clients use a particular methodology, piece of software, or approach to writing, I guide them toward something more holistic.
Gluten-free? There are options for that. No money for a fancy extruder? Hand-rolling and cutting is absolutely an option. No budget for an MFA? I’ve got resources you can pick up at your local library or bookshop that will help you learn what you need to in order to make just the right dough to support your story sauce.
What’s more important than any one tool or technique is a broad knowledge of both story and the writing process. And the more you master the basics, the more you can experiment with the fancy stuff as your knowledge grows and expands. I made spaghetti before I tackled ravioli. And I tossed a few batches before I got dough that was good enough not only for me to eat, but to share with guests.
Kneading the dough
The next two steps, in my experience, are the most often skipped when either pasta-making or writing. And it’s tempting to take short cuts because as long as the writing process takes, publishing can take even longer. But in the same way that kneading the dough hydrates the flour, warms it, and gives it just the right texture, taking the time to thoroughly mix and meld story elements is an important part of writing.
Rarely does an author get just the right balance of backstory, action, dialogue, character interiority, and setting right on the very first go. Only through thoroughly mixing in revision will writers achieve the perfect balance. Skimping here will leave you with a tough, sticky mess that’s hard to shape. Trust me on this one. I’ve made this mistake before.
Letting things rest
Likewise, it’s easy to forget to let the dough rest. In pasta-making, letting it cool keeps it from sticking to the extruder or the rollers, depending on what final shape you’re going for. In writing, letting your story rest will let you come back to it with fresh eyes. But unlike pasta making, you’ll come back not just to shape the dough, but likely to do some heavy trimming.
This step is so important that I’ve written a whole essay about it as part of my Writing in the Garden series. If gardening is your thing, you might like “Walking Away From Your Story.” But no matter whether gardening or cooking appeals more to you in terms of metaphor, you’ll want to let your drafts rest for anywhere from two weeks to two months (or more!) so that you can see the truth of your story more clearly and adjust as needed.
Choosing the right shape
Although you likely set out on your pasta-making/writing journey with a particular shape in mind, once you’ve got your hands on the dough, a different shape might present itself.
In writing terms, this could involve adding or cutting a particular point of view, changing perspective from first to third (or the reverse) or adding verse, epistolary, or other forms to deepen your story themes. Nailing multiple timelines, an unreliable narrator, a perfect historical or fantasy setting, or a mystery full of just the right red herrings takes time and thought. Sometimes it even takes more than one try before you land on the perfect shape for your story.
Bon appétit
The perfect pasta takes time, the right ingredients, practiced technique, and the right blend of dough and sauce. So too does story. The results, when the right time and care are taken, warm you on a cold winter’s night, comfort you in trying times, and of course are beyond delicious. Is there a particular step in the pasta-writing journey that’s giving you trouble? Comment below and maybe I can help!
