How to write [about lacrosse]
Or: How to trust the process. No, not that one. This one.
I’m about to write my 500th article for New England Lacrosse Journal. Today I’m at 482. I have written all of those articles in the past 18 months. I average around 618 words per article. That’s just under 300,000 words total. But that’s not the best statistic.
According to Grammarly, I have written well over 8 million words since 2019. Which would include emails, DM’s, outlines, and tweets. Is this a full-on humblebrag?
Why am I telling you this?
I figured it was about time I shared how it is that I am able to even attempt to do something so insane as writing 500 articles in less than two years. If you’re not into that, you can check out now. I’ll understand.
If you want to speed up and improve your writing output, I’m going to spill some tea, so get a napkin and turn off the podcast you’re listening to.
Step 1: The Outline
Yes, I always start with an outline. It doesn’t matter what I’m writing about. I literally just finished doing it for this newsletter and now I’m doing step two.
(Stop. Stay focused.)
Okay, so the outline can be used in a lot of different ways. People that skip this step are destined to fail in the long run because an outline gives you the most powerful tool of all - structure. Without structure, your thoughts are meandering trash floating through the ether of your own mind.
With an outline, you can separate that trash into different recycling bins and fill them individually with the refuse of your own creation. This isn’t to say that your end product is garbage. Quite the contrary, your end product should be able to stand on its own for what it is. The outline is the skeleton; the rest of the steps are putting in the organs, muscles, and soul.
The editor just drapes it in skin.
Step 2: The Worksheet
Once my outline is complete, I go back into the doc and write at least one, preferably two, sentences under each heading and subheading. Why? It takes the pressure off of writing through each part linearly. When you can step back and look at the whole as a sum of parts rather than burning your energy in one section, everything reads much more evenly.
I also follow the “rule of threes” when making a point AND constructing a sentence. If I’m all the way turned up, I will also work in some alliteration to make the points stick out even more.
This is where you need to really put in the work. Hold yourself accountable for those sentences, even if they’re just introductions to a point you’re not sure that you will use. Write anyway. Cut it afterward if it doesn't fit. Commit to the exercise.
Step 3: The Research
If I’m using quotes, I typically leave sections open for them in the outline. I know what I’m asking, but I don’t know what they will say, so to combat that variable I always ask extra questions.
If I’m using statistics to make points, this is where I look those up and put those in. Typically that happens before the quotes, but sometimes they’re a nice little boost to the quotes afterward as well. If you’re lucky, they’re actually in the quotes and you can pull them and use them however you see fit once you verify them.
So many writers are focused on crafting their narrative from the jump - but it’s never your narrative. It’s theirs. Your job is to communicate that story in an informative and entertaining way.
Step 4: The Break
Once I have all my pieces together, I do nothing.
I walk away.
That’s because I write in bursts. I call them “flashes” - I’ve always written that way. But I’ve found that when I lean too far into the “flash” I overwrite and overcomplicate my points. That’s where the wild metaphors and similies come from, but too many of them in a row is a bad thing. I’ve learned to take a step back before that happens.
There was a rule back at Inside Lacrosse that “I only get one” [crazy reference] per piece. I don’t work there anymore, but I still try to adhere to the rule because it makes me think about when and where I want to use my…flair.
People often describe the creative process as a battery-like function. Charging and draining. I don’t have a battery; I have a well. The difference is that batteries charge and deplete as they’re connected or disconnected to a power source.
The well is the power source. It exists in its own space in perpetuity. I don’t drain, I empty and refill at whatever speed works to replenish the creativity that I have. That’s how LacroCity came to be - my well was overflowing. I needed to empty it.
My fourth step is stepping away from whatever I am doing and turning off my brain. Sometimes I watch YouTube videos about true crime or running shoes or something.
Sometimes I doomscroll Instagram and Twitter.
But most of the time I play FIFA and beat the computer 8-0 on the mid-level difficulty in career mode.
It soothes me.
Step 5: The Onceover
The final step is going back through and constructing the connective tissue between all of the previous steps. I put the quotes in the right spots, work on the transitions from each point, and then find what I call “the hammer”.
The Hammer is a term I made up for the central point of the piece. It is usually, but not always, the best singular line I have, or the best quote that I have. It’s the thing that you SHOULD remember the most.
Now, the Hammer is not always necessary. I save it for long-form pieces because putting a Hammer in the middle of a piece that’s a watchlist or something that has a less natural flow, it’s unnecessary. I used to put it at the end of things, but if you always put it there it becomes predictable and stale. So, I like to move it around and put it in the middle or 3/4 of the way through. It’s more fun for the reader and it’s more fun for me.
After I complete the onceover, I give it another readthrough (thanks to my paranoia and English degree) and send it to an editor.
I wrote this newsletter in 49 minutes using this method.
Now, what’s my editing process like?
Share and subscribe to find out. Thanks again for reading and supporting LacroCity.