The Day Job: Writing Thoughts to Contemplate

I like short, pithy advice about writing. Maybe I’m just a simple guy, but I think more about the easily digested suggestions I’ve read than the long, theoretical essays contained in the several dozen writing books on my shelves. For example, when I had a chance to have Connie Willis sign a copy of Lincoln’s Dreams, I asked her to include her top three pieces of writing advice. Here’s what she wrote:

• Never kill the dog.
• Write what you like, and everything else be damned.
• Never forget what you loved about SF in the first place.

I’ve gotten more mileage from those three thoughts than any of the writing texts I read in grad school, like Michael Hoffman’s and Patrick Murphy’s Essentials of the Theory of Fiction, with its excellent essays from Henry James, Lionel Trilling, and other literary luminaries.

Keeping my limited attention span in mind, over the years I have sought advice from writers whose work I’ve admired. What I want are those little snippets of wisdom that I can massage in my thoughts like a well-worn pebble.

Several writers overlapped Connie’s advice about what I should write. Elizabeth Moon told me to “Write what you love, not what you think will sell.” Jack Williamson said, “Write what you find inside yourself for an audience that shares your interests,” while Jane Yolen added, “Write from your heart and the hand will follow.” My favorite quote, though, came from one of my unofficial mentors (unofficial in the sense that he doesn’t know about this relationship), Joe Haldeman, who said, “The hell with people who say ‘Write what you know.’ Make it up and make it interesting.”

Both Bruce Sterling and Robert Forward reminded me of Robert Heinlein’s tips: “1) You must write. 2) You must finish what you write. 3) You must refrain from rewriting except to editorial order. 4) You must put it on the market. 5) You must keep it on the market until sold.” I’ve thought a lot about his suggestion not to rewrite, and decided I disagree, but the rest makes sense.

George Scithers, when he was editing Astounding rejected a story of mine with a thought that’s stayed with me. He said, “I hope while you were waiting to hear from us on this story that you were working on your next.”

In a world of short advice, some of it’s even shorter. Anne McCaffrey said, “TELL ME A STORY!” I can’t go too far wrong keeping that in mind.

Gregory Benford reminded me to be original, and to be suspicious of trends when he suggested, “Do what everybody isn’t (usually this means hard SF).” One way to get to your true stories, he added, is to “Use your subconscious; inspect your dream states for material.” Algis Budrys dittoed Benford by saying, “Pick a situation nobody else has used, at least recently.” James Morrow gave me, “Never forget that fiction is an art form.”

Some of the advice addressed the process of writing. Yvonne Navarro told me, “Read EVERYTHING out loud, even novels, and do it more than once.” Both Alan Dean Foster and Will McCarthy helped me with characterization. Foster said, “As a writer, always try to put yourself in the character’s position and react to a situation as they would, not as you would.” McCarthy observed, “There’s no such thing as a throwaway character: characters should solve their own problems, try really hard not to get hurt or killed, etc.”

I’ve heard numerous suggestions on how to write, but one that stuck with me was Geoffrey Landis’s, “Write the best you are able to, but don’t be afraid to write crap if that’s all you can do on a particular day. (If nothing else, it gets the crap out your system.”

Writers not only gave me advice on writing, but also on living the writer’s life. Paul Levinson said, “Be prepared to be anti-social when writing—showing up late for appointments, not making them in the first place, skipping that visit to grandma’s with the kids—all are defensible on behalf of getting some writing done.”

Okay, here’s a weird segue, but be patient with me. Poetry works for me through contemplation, and so does advice. To really get into a poem, I read it more than once, trying to see as many levels and repercussions as I can. I do the same thing with some music and pieces of art. My first impression might be a good one, but I know first impressions can be misleading. I really liked the musical group the Bangles the first time I heard them. Remember “Walk Like an Egyptian”? Yeah, that group. I liked that song enough that I ran out to buy The Best of the Bangles. The problem was that the more I listened to “Walk Like an Egyptian,” the less I found interesting in it (this only took three times through, by the way). The song is light, catchy, and it offered me nothing to chew on. Neil Young’s Harvest album worked on me in an exactly opposite way. By the time I got to the third time through, I knew it was one of the best albums I’d ever listened to. Repetition deepened my appreciation. That’s the way I handle advice. Lots of rethinking.

Which brings me back to Connie Willis. Of the three pieces of advice she gave me, the one that turned into the much massaged pebble in my mind was “Never kill the dog.” At first I thought she was being flip. I know she loves dogs, at least bulldogs, and she’s capable of being flip, but the more I thought about it, the more the suggestion became about avoiding easy sentimentality or putting the focus of a story in the wrong place. How many stories have you seen where the audience is brought to tears by the killing an animal? From Old Yeller to Where the Red Fern Grows to Dances With Wolves (twice!). Heck, even the killing of Jabba the Hut’s pit monster in Return of the Jedi brought some of my more sentimental companions to tears. Contemplating her suggestion about the easy turns a writer can take, the clichés of situation, and the slothful habits of the overused plot turn, make me a better writer.

When I see I’ve taken the lazy route in a story, I know that I “killed the dog,” and I rewrite.
If you are looking for books on writing, there are tomes aplenty. You can find them in any decent bookstore, so the only book I’ll recommend today is one that covers writing topics most of the others miss, which is Bruce Holland Rogers’ wonderful Word Work: Surviving and Thriving as a Writer. Where else will you find chapters like “Writing With Children in the House,” and “When the Novel Has to be Done Yesterday.” You may find a few single sentences to post on the wall above your writing station, but you’re more likely going to want to think about his larger wisdoms.

So, what writing advice have you heard that impacts your writing? I’ve posted this question at my LiveJournal blog. You are welcome to see what other folks have offered or to add your own thoughts, or you can carry on your discussion in our forum here.

I’ll keep the good ones. They’ll go into that thick stack I’ve already gathered.