My Writing Stinks. Now What?

by Amy Cipolla Barnes

I’ve been in a writing funk. It’s hot. I’m recovering from Covid and our dogs got skunked. We live in a suburban rural area where skunks roam. Our dogs are friendly. The skunks are not. It’s always a stinky ordeal: bathing the dogs, washing fabric items, cleaning floors and carpets, opening windows and turning on fans.

The first time the dogs got skunked, the skunk would NOT leave. My son played his trumpet loudly. I checked on Mr. Skunk Skunk’s Removal Service and found out I’m in the wrong business. To get a skunk removed costs around $500. Extra at midnight on a weekend.

What does this have to do with writing? My writing has gotten *skunked* far more than our dogs. By me. By critique and feedback partners. By mentors. By life. I insert stinky paragraphs and metaphors and things I *think* need to be in the story even if it goes against my nature. I let a bad or tough critique (well-intentioned or not) shape how I write, or don’t write. I let the funk drift into all my writing until I either stop writing entirely or banish any creativity to the recesses of Google Docs. I let the idea that I MUST have an MFA or traditional publisher waft into my brain like it’s Pepe Le Pew beckoning me with online catalogs and submission guidelines.

When our dogs got skunked this time, I was actually thankful to be isolated with Covid — I literally couldn’t smell the skunkiness as much AND I didn’t have to help de-skunk the dogs. How do you de-skunk your writing and creativity and overall attitude toward your writing?

These simple steps might help you get the stink off of the page.

1) Creativity skunks are everywhere

Everyone’s house stinks at some point. Everyone’s writing stinks at some point. When the skunk got our dogs, it also sprayed multiple other neighbor dogs. The last 3 years have been extra rough across the board. No one expected Covid and no one can pinpoint their dogs or writing getting skunked. You’re not the only one that feels like your writing stinks at random moments. Whether it’s true or not, it’s okay to feel that way.

2) Wait it out

It feels like a natural instinct to get rid of the skunk smell immediately. From all the things I read online, the smell will naturally dissipate in around 3 weeks. It might not feel that way. If your writing stinks, set it aside and wait out the smell. Perspective may make it stink less.

3) Do some research

As the skunk scent wafted through our house, I looked for de-skunking solutions, checked with our farm friends and looked up Mr. Skunk removal companies. When my writing stinks, I do the same. I do historical research to add accuracy. I research character occupations. I look at character names. I take a writing class. I read a craft book. I do everything but stare at the stinky writing.

4) Find out where the stink is hiding

Is the skunk under your house or in the A/C? That’s what the skunk removal service asked. Do you want to search for a skunk in the dark? Probably not. Should you do that so your A/C doesn’t become their home? Yes.

When the words stink, try looking at the why. Have you used “just” or “that” fifty times on one page? Have you described every aspect of your main character’s kitchen as the first page of a flash and then never mentioned it again? Guilty! You may not find the writing skunk but you can chip away at individual stinky aspects.

Try getting out of your own stinky head. Read other writers. Congratulate other writers. Give feedback. Finish that book(s) you started.

5) Clean it up

We ran loads of laundry. Bathed the dogs. Took rugs outside. Opened the windows. Do the same with your writing. Run spell check. Sit outside on your deck. Go to the park. Eat chocolate. Chat with writer friends and compare stinky notes. Cut the story in half. Cut it in half again. Take your characters to a new place. Watch a movie. Listen to music. Do erasure poetry with your stinky story. Write about skunks. Write the scary/brave/off-the-wall story you’ve always wanted to create.

6) Accept the stink, be the stink

At some point, “skunk” doesn’t stink as much. My daughter commented that she was used to the smell. Sometimes, a story you deemed stinky actually just needs some editing. Let it sit. Do some edits. Smell it again. Find the good points in the stink.

Sometimes, you need Mr. Skunk. And sometimes, you NEED a feedback partner or mentor or critique group or a writing class or line edit or that craft book. That can cost money. But it also can help get the skunk out of your yard AND your writing files.

7) Don’t blame the creativity skunk

Real skunks are trying to protect themselves or their families. When your writing stinks, don’t assign blame. In CNF and essays especially, I often discover I was trying to protect myself from telling the actual story I needed/wanted to share. Sometimes, I never figure out why I’ve written something that stinks up my computer. And sometimes, you need to move to step 9.

Remember, you do not stink as a person or a writer. I try to remember the writing stink is as temporary as the lingering scent on my dogs.

8) Throw the writing out with the skunk water

This is the most extreme de-skunking method. Sometimes a story or poem or novel opening just stinks. I have multiple running Google Docs of stinky writing. We lost several small rugs in this last dog skunking. It happens. After running them through the laundry and air drying them outside, it was still hopeless. We lost the rugs and kept the dogs.

When I let my writing sit, run it by my feedback group, send it through edits and revisit it weeks later AND I still think it smells bad — it can be time to banish it forever.

After many baths and a few weeks, our dogs both lost the skunk stink; now they are just dog-stinky. I’m slowly attacking my own stinky writing. This article actually stinks much less than when I first wrote it!