I know what you’re thinking: How can carving teeth have anything to do with helping me become a better a writer?

As an integral part of my curriculum as a first year student in dental school, I was required to gain fundamental knowledge of the basic dental anatomy through the study of what is called “Human Dentition.” To familiarize newcomers to the dental profession with the variety of anatomical landmarks of different teeth, they were asked to carve an exact wax replica of each corresponding tooth in the oral cavity.

“Your task is simple,” said my supervising doctor. “Out of this wax block, you are supposed to deliver a tooth.”

No matter how “simple” she said it was, I never seemed to get the grip of how this should actually work. For long tormenting hours, I’d try to breathe some life in the block but the miracle did not happen. The stupid thing would just stay dead. My creations were bizarre. They bore no resemblance to the shape in my mind. I was shocked by how my hands were betraying me. My mind would draw them a beautiful image of the final outcome, but my hands just weren’t up to the match.

So instead of working, I’d just sit there, waiting aimlessly for time to pass and for my working section to be over. I watched my colleagues creating wonders out of the same block I held in my hand and felt inferior. “It’s all talent,” I told myself. “I’ll never be that great of a dentist.”

The year ended and I barely made it through my carving finals. Time flew by, and I finally graduated to be a dentist. Getting out of the academic world to the real one caused a noticeable enhancement in my lazy handling skills. With each new case, I gained more experience. Even more importantly, my job demands made me discover my true passion as a writer.

Self-Doubt and the Writer

Ahead of me was another battle of self-doubt. I had never actually trusted my newly born talent as a writer. I was always comparing my struggling work to the giants of the profession: “I’ll never be as good.” I ended up hating myself and my writing in the process. This is when I decided to specialize in prosthodontics. I set sail for my very long journey of studying for my master degree, but what awaited me was a nasty surprise. In order to be a specialist in the field I love, I had to go through a whole year of re-studying dental basics including Human Dentition. Times were different. I was no longer a fledgling student with no skill whatsoever, but I couldn’t help my old fear of carving.

The frustrated writer beneath my skin was having no better days. I was struggling with the various concepts of story structure and world building… until I finally realized that talent and will aren’t sufficient. Proper knowledge is necessary if I’m to continue pursuing my dream life as a writer.

The Learning Writer

I was blessed to come across some helpful writing blogs such as this one and Write to Done, in addition to various books on the subject of matter, such as Syd Field’s Screenplay, Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird, and K.M.’s Outlining Your Novel: Map Your Way to Success. Before coming to all these sources, I used to view novels as a complete whole too difficult to imitate. What these books did was deconstruct this whole into its elemental parts. When you finally see the Great Wall of China as a collection of tiny bricks, the idea of how it’s built becomes much easier to understand.

Equipped with this kind of illuminating knowledge, I returned to my carving books. I was astonished to come to the simple conclusion that: Creating a tooth out of a wax block is no different from creating a story out of an idea. The overall creative process is identical. Understanding this concept helped me become a better craftsman and, to my surprise, an improved writer.

What Does Writing Have in Common With Carving a Tooth?

How has carving helped me become a better writer? To answer such a question, first you have to know how a tooth is carved. Here are the instructions:

1. Start with a shapeless block

The block can be transformed into practically anything of your choosing, just as you use a promisung idea as a catalyst for a whole story.

2. Draw some guiding lines

Lines are used to hint at the final product. Like an outline for a story, this step can be skipped altogether, although it often proves extra useful. It’s there not to restrain creativity, but to make sure the long road is free from unplanned hiccups.

3. Create depth and dimension

The simple scratches on wax are not just lines any more. They are connected to give possible dimensions to the imagined shape, just as isolated story notes are molded into characters with enriched backstories and lives of their own.

4. Give form

With further work, you start to feel the block in your hand gradually transition into the required shape. This is where the plot outline and the character sketches are all starting to line up. Without you knowing, they get absorbed by the overall theme to create the most perfect story possible.

5. Carve

Now that we have our lines and dimensions, we can start carving the distinct anatomy of the tooth. Finally, we can start writing! We are totally free to follow the lines, or we can choose to ignore them. At this stage, nothing is permanent. Nothing is beyond repair. Anything can be adjusted. All we have to do is just “write.”

6. Cut away the excess

Any wax outside the previously drawn lines is extra. It needs to be cut in the same way as the fat and boring details that get trimmed out of the first draft.

7. Finish and polish

A statement in my carving book has never left my mind:

The real thing comes to life in the finishing stage.

You have a tooth in your hands, even if you don’t yet see it. All you need now is a fine carver, an alcoholic detergent, and some form of abrasive. Just a little bit of manipulation and voilà! The tooth is out of the block. Write, rewrite, revise and edit. Writing is rewriting. Your gem awaits you just a couple drafts ahead.

And we’re done. You are done. You are finally ready to submit your work of art. Can you believe it?

Actually, you probably don’t believe it. You don’t feel quite satisfied with the final product. You are haunted by the down feeling of “this needs to be reworked.” You’re afraid of your defenseless newborn getting slashed by harsh criticism and premature judgments. As a result, you may choose to withhold your work until the minute you feel “ready.”

But you know what? You’ll never be ready.

You’ll just have to get accustomed to the feeling and let go. Perfection only exists in the mind. Trust your inner instincts. Do not kill your spirit by comparing your work of art with others. Art is all about perspective. Give the world a thought of how you see it. As long as the view is yours, it’s fresh and authentic. What I’ve learned is that both carving and writing, like any other creative process, are long journeys of evolving sequential steps, which are controlled not only by talent, but more importantly by devotion and persistence. Never give up! Despair is the archenemy of your creative soul.

Tell me your opinion: What inspiration from your own occupation has helped you become a better writer?