I’ve been writing a long time, fourteen years as of this month. There isn’t a nugget of writing wisdom I haven’t heard over those years. And I know, because I keep my eyes and ears open, probing for that one piece of advice that’s gonna slide into place <click> and suddenly kick all the doors in and make all the gears start spinning.
If you’ve been writing for any length of time, heck, you’ve probably heard all the advice too. I’ll be the first to admit some of it’s actually been pretty useful. Good advice sparks the imagination. It helps you see what’s possible. It serves as a useful kick in the pants. It can keep you focused right when you need it. It can give you a sense of community and help cure the loneliness.
After a while though, all that advice can easily muddle together and become boring and cliche. Nothing makes me roll my eyes more than that age-old chestnut “show don’t tell.” Blech. My fingers twitched just typing that. As I’ve thought about all the advice over the years, I’ve also thought about what’s worked for me and what hasn’t. Below is some of the advice I keep pinned on top as I’m working on my own stories. These are the little brain worms that get stuck while I’m thinking and researching and typing. You know, all the stuff my internal editor is screaming at me while I’m trying to ignore him and get that draft written as quickly as possible. In no particular order, here’s the stuff I’ve found helpful.
“Write What You Know”
Take that little nugget and slam-dunk it right in the trash. Forget about writing what you know. Some of the stuff I know is pretty boring. “Oh! Let’s write a story about a finance guy who does accounting work … for an interstellar shipping company … in space … out in the asteroid belt … maybe …” <Yawn> Obviously you can’t ONLY write the stuff you know. Most of us have never been to space. None of us has ever slayed slewed slayethed killed a dragon with a sword. We’ve never fired a laser weapon. We’ve never killed anyone (I hope.) Stories would be so boring if we only wrote about the stuff we actually knew. Instead, write what you’ve experienced. That’s really at the heart of what you know anyway, right? Yes, sure, stories are about conveying information and maybe showing the reader something they didn’t know before. But the best stories are the ones that give a reader an experience. You can’t tell me you weren’t right there inside the arena fighting for your life with Katniss Everdeen. No, you’ve (again, hopefully) never killed someone before, probably not even in self-defense, but I’m betting you’ve experienced death before. Death of a family member, death of a pet, wishing death on your greatest enemy, etc. Those are experiences you can write about. Those are thoughts and feelings you can bring to the page. Dive deep and share those experiences.
“People Watching”
Yes, I’ve done my fair share in restaurants and coffee shops and standing in line at the grocery store and wading through crowds at the zoo and the roller coaster park and the swimming pool. Making up histories for all those weird people, filling in the blanks of what they’re saying, diagnosing their mental illnesses and giving them tragic family histories to explain why they act like that. Watching other people is awesome and fun and entertaining, especially if you have the right person doing it with you. But you know what’s cooler than observing other people? Observing yourself. Try it some time. Sit back in your chair or lie back in your bed or cross your legs during a meditation session or, heck, float over yourself in some weird out-of-body experience … and try and observe yourself from outside. Do you talk to yourself? When, and about what? How do you feel at any given moment? Why do you feel that way? What childhood traumas do you keep replaying over and over again? What bad experiences do you keep picking at like an itchy scab, refusing to let it heal? Sure, making things up about other people, watching them, listening to them speak, that’s all good stuff. But it’s all made-up stuff inside your own head. The real things that have happened to you though, the things you’ve experienced, the lessons you’ve learned, the lessons you haven’t learned yet, that’s all gold right there inside your own head waiting for you to dig in and strip mine. Yeah, some of it’s gonna be painful. Let the reader experience that pain right alongside you. Maybe it’ll be cathartic. We’re not talking confession stories here. No one has to know you’re using your own experiences. Shed those experiences off onto your characters and make them deal with it. Fictional characters make great voodoo dolls for all your childhood pushpin traumas. You may even find that your worst experiences aren’t even all that unique; chances are there are others out there who share your pain.
“Write Every Day”
False. I’ll just say that right off the bat. Of all the writing advice, this one has probably pissed me off more than any other.
“Well, if you’re not writing every day then you’re probably not a real writer.”
“If you can’t find the time to write every day then you probably just don’t want it badly enough.”
“If you don’t write every day, your brain will grow cobwebs and the muse will leave you and you’ll never make it.”
It’s all BS. I mean, finding time to write every day is hard enough as it is. Now we’re gonna throw a heaping helping of guilt and self-doubt on top of all that? No thanks. Don’t believe any of it, because none of it’s true. Listen, if you’re like me, you probably showed up to this writing game late in the seventh inning while everyone else was stretching and already fueled up on hot dogs and watered-down beer. You probably have a job, a spouse, kids, a mortgage, bills to pay … need I go on? You barely have time to get the kids to their doctor’s appointments and extracurricular activities, let alone find time for yourself to sit down and write, you selfish bastard. Listen to me. No, really. Look up here into my eyes and see me looking straight into your soul. It’s okay if you don’t write every single day. It doesn’t make you less of a writer. It doesn’t mean it’s not important to you. It doesn’t mean you don’t really want it. It just means you’re human and you have other priorities that do — and honestly should — be more important. Here is a brutal truth: other real people in your life are more important than the imaginary people you write stories about. Also, you are more important than those story people. Take care of the people you need to take care of in real life, including yourself. The people in your stories can wait. On the other hand, here’s another brutal truth: you probably have more free time than you think to get some writing done. We all have time-robbers in our lives. Especially if you’re an American, you are likely inundated with entertainment and recreation. Set your priorities, that’s all I’m sayin’.
“Fake It Until You Make It”
I hate this saying. I understand what it’s trying to say and the psychological trickery that’s going on. If you really want to be something, then you have to pretend to be that until you’ve convinced yourself and others that you finally are. It’s that pretending part though that really wedges my underwear. Listen, if you’re actually writing … if you’re finding time to sit down (and not necessarily every single day, remember?) … but if you’re taking an honest stab at being serious about this, and you enjoy the process, and you’re doing the best you can, then guess what? You’re not pretending anything. You’re actually doing it. The whole goal of being a “Writer” is — duh — to write. That’s what you do. Hard stop. Period. No qualifiers. You write stories. Sure, publication is cool. Winning contests is awesome. Getting trophies is envious. Being an Amazon or New York Times Bestseller is something to brag about at Thanksgiving dinner. Those are all nice, but they’re not what you do. You’re a writer. You’re not a contest winner or trophy hoarder or late-night guest on Kimmel, as amazing as all those might be. Writer, plain and simple. And once you’ve published one story or won a trophy or exchanged witty banter with talk-show hosts, you’re gonna go right back to your computer the next day and start all over again as a … what? Yeah, a writer. Because that’s what you are. You can be a writer without having a single publication (don’t ask me how I know this.) If you write as often as you can, and you’re giving it your best, and you continue doing it no matter what else happens, then you’re a writer. There’s no faking it, because you’ve already made it. Be proud of who you are and stop feeling like you have to pretend. You don’t. You’re already there.
These are the little pearls of wisdom that have sustained me through the years. What writing advice have you absorbed? What’s helped you out? Let me know in the comments.
I think it’s “sleweth “. lol
I love this.