curated by mdy

Embrace “maniacal rewriting” to uncover the truths you subconsciously hid

Via David Perell

In a class: “Somebody said, can you name the stages of writing? And I said, yeah sure, and you know, I was completely not prepared for this, but I said: “I’m shit . . . I’m a genius . . . I’m shit . . . I survived.” And I’ve never done better than that to talk about the stages of writing.

Most people never see [the “I’m shit” moments] because I’m an inveterate rewriter. I went from being completely dedicated to writing perfect first drafts (and sometimes achieving that) to rewriting over and over and over and over again. So I’ve become maniacal, almost to a fault, rewriter. And I would say almost to a fault because it makes me take longer to find what I’m looking for, because I’m always willing to beat it up. You write, you write, you write, then you explode it. But I’m always amazed. I’m always amazed with writing, how long it takes and what it takes to get to the thing.”

— How to Write Unapologetically Well — Tom Junod, at 41:13

American journalist Tom Junod describes himself as an “inveterate rewriter,” a significant shift from his early career when he attempted to write perfect first drafts.

He describes the writing process not as a linear path, but as a volatile emotional cycle—“I’m shit. I’m a genius. I’m shit. I survived”—where the “survival” is only achieved by a willingness to destroy what you have created to find what is missing.

  • The “Explosion” Method: Junod isn’t just editing for grammar; he is willing to “explode” a draft completely. He admits to discarding a massive 230,000-word draft of his book because, despite the length, he realized he hadn’t yet introduced the main characters who actually made the story work.
  • The “Good Stuff” Paradox: Junod observes a strange psychological phenomenon where writers do the research and have the experiences, yet somehow leave the best material out of the first draft. He asks, “Is it some sort of block? Is it some sort of thing where you’re pushing away from that final resolution? I don’t know.”
  • The Granger Intervention: He illustrates this with a story about a young woman who vanished after shoplifting from Walmart. His initial draft was mediocre because he omitted the very thing that made him interested in the topic: the spooky, obsessive nature of her mysterious disappearance. His editor, David Granger, had to explicitly tell him, “Write that,” forcing Junod to put the “good stuff” he had earlier shared only verbally with his editor onto the actual page.

When the “tug of war” of writing becomes too difficult, Junod employs specific, practical strategies to free his mind and get words on the page. He views these as improvisational structures designed to bypass resistance.

Specific “tricks” Junod uses:

  • “This is a story about…”: Start every paragraph with this phrase to force yourself to identify the core theme (e.g., “This is a story about joy,” “This is a story about regret”). You can delete the repetitive phrases later.
  • Change the POV: Rewrite a section (or a whole book part) in the second person (“You did this…”). It cuts out extraneous fluff and feels more direct.
  • Curse your way through: Write a draft where you curse freely to break through the politeness or stiffness, then edit the profanity out later.
  • Formal constraints: Write in all caps, or use Q&A format, just to keep the momentum moving.

For Junod, rewriting is less about polishing and more about excavation. It is the time-consuming, often inefficient process of breaking down your own resistance to find the “tonic chord”—the resolution where the story finally admits what it is truly about.