Be careful about your sources of writing wisdom.
Laugh at their jokes, marvel at their Amazon rankings, enjoy their work and the movies made from it. Just don’t buy into their writing world view without a thorough vetting… because you may already know more about how a novel should be built and fueled than they do. Who knows… that novel that put them behind a microphone might have taken twelve years, sixteen rewrites and a floor full of editors who will never get the credit they deserve.
Most famous authors, when speaking to an audience, truly mean well. Even when what they say only (or at least best) applies to them — to their preferred process — yet comes off as battle-proven advice that all prospective authors, this famous author would have you believe should emulate.
Here’s another cautionary tale lifted straight out of the collective writing conversation. It’s my favorite famous author story, really, because it shines light on both sides of the story-development proposition, which is an issue of precision and pain tolerance.
Like that bestselling keynote guy from a couple of posts ago, whose advice about process is about as universally wise as is the advice to inject Lysol into your bloodstream to cleanse yourself of any circulating viruses. Some advice is toxic, even when the name seems authoritative.
Then again, some famous authors are all too eager to tell you they don’t really know how they do what they do… which can also be toxic if you believe that to mean there is nothing out there to be learned, or there is nothing to actually know about this craft.
Ignorance can kill you as quickly as a Clorox enema.
This is one of those stories.
In a recent author profile appearing in Writers Digest magazine, an 11-million-copy best-selling author confessed she has no idea how she does what she does. Those were her words, which at a glance sounds humble and mysterious and perhaps romantic. But in any case, such a claim by someone with that level of success translates to this: I just go with my gut.
Clearly, after a hit movie adaptation and a few screenplay credits on top of her considerable book sales, the numbers prove her wrong, because what is a validated instinct if not knowing what to do?
Claiming to not know how she got there isn’t saying she doesn’t know what her story-craft needs to look like when she does. That is a critical differentiation, one you should strive to wrap your head around.
Her numbers prove that, as well. And thus, the paradox is reinforced.
Her contention that she doesn’t know is simply proof that, as it is in many forms of art and athletics and academics, doing and teaching exist as different core competencies, only rarely shared within one practitioner. My guess is she’d make a terrific keynote speaker.
These excerpts are taken from my new craft book, “Great Stories Don’t Write Themselves,” with the addition of some framing new content here. Feel free to share with your writer friends, directly or via social media.
One Response
This comment (sent to me via email) is from author
TK Throne
author of the novels: Noah’s Wife, Angels at the Gate, and House of Rose, and the gripping non-fiction expose: Last Chance for Justice
Thanks for your wisdom. I don’t know how I write, either, but also don’t really know how I walk across the room—my body and subconscious processes do that, and the same with writing. I do know, however, if I ended up in the bathroom instead of the kitchen. As you say, there is a whole other level of knowing the craft and what needs to be/happen in story. Knowing that can guide and shape the process, and is so much better than just wandering in the desert!