The Core Fundamental Rule of Writing
I've been writing (more or less) all my life, and professionally eight years or so, with my fourth novel coming out this July.
So from my own puny patch of personal and professional perspective, which includes a fondness for asinine alliterations that I edit right out of my first draft manuscripts, I have some insights to share on the core fundamental rule of writing.
The core fundamental rule of writing has nothing to do with writing at all.
So what is it? Consider all the things about your life that are important to you. Your family. Your friends. The students you teach. The clients you serve. The flowers you tend. Wine, roses, chocolate. Beer, pretzels, dandelions. Your own inner well being. Your outer as well.
All those things that are NOT writing.
Because writing should be the least important.
And that's the core fundamental rule of writing.
If you want to be a writer, hold on to this as hard as you can. Otherwise, an interest can turn into a persistence that can turn into obsession that can badly skew all those things that should have stayed important to you.
Since I live in Bali, where I was born and raised and where I decided quite understandably to stay, I haven't been able to meander around in meatspace and meet other writers in the flesh. Still, I've been an active member of various writers' groups, I cyber hop the lit blogs and follow the professional sites. I've been struck by how vibrant and clamorous the writing community is, and especially so by how so very many writers are anxious to get published.
This is both understandable and yet at times somewhat perplexing to me. Of all the arts that require a modicum of ability (which improves with hard work), it seems that writing is the one that everyone demands to be the most democratic, with almost everyone assuming if they have the desire then they should also have the ability, like it was enshrined in the Bill of Human Rights or something.
Now wait, don't jump on me. Everybody does have creative ability…that comes with being human. It's just that writing is only a small part of the spectrum. By all means, explore your potential gift as writer, tell a story, but if it turns out this isn't your thing, so what? There is something else that you are. I have a way with words myself, but there are days when I consider it a curse, because I'd rather, oh, paint or prove important mathematical theorems instead.
You might be thinking, "That's easy for you to say. You've been published internationally." Well, I'll tell you something: getting published is a nice validation of hard work and cultivation of talent, but it doesn't change a thing about you or your life. It's not the Magic Divide. Nothing special happens on the Other Side.
Over the years, I've seen many people pound their head in frustration at this writing gig and a few succumbing to despair. "I'm no good at writing" is translating into "I'm no good at all." And it isn't just the unpublished who fall into this trap—I've seen published writers who fall off the midlist into oblivion (who knows, I could be one this time next year) get sucked down into this.
That's why I reckon we all have to hold onto the core fundamental rule of writing: Everything else is more important.
Get more on Richard Lewis at SimonandSchuster.com
So from my own puny patch of personal and professional perspective, which includes a fondness for asinine alliterations that I edit right out of my first draft manuscripts, I have some insights to share on the core fundamental rule of writing.
The core fundamental rule of writing has nothing to do with writing at all.
So what is it? Consider all the things about your life that are important to you. Your family. Your friends. The students you teach. The clients you serve. The flowers you tend. Wine, roses, chocolate. Beer, pretzels, dandelions. Your own inner well being. Your outer as well.
All those things that are NOT writing.
Because writing should be the least important.
And that's the core fundamental rule of writing.
If you want to be a writer, hold on to this as hard as you can. Otherwise, an interest can turn into a persistence that can turn into obsession that can badly skew all those things that should have stayed important to you.
Since I live in Bali, where I was born and raised and where I decided quite understandably to stay, I haven't been able to meander around in meatspace and meet other writers in the flesh. Still, I've been an active member of various writers' groups, I cyber hop the lit blogs and follow the professional sites. I've been struck by how vibrant and clamorous the writing community is, and especially so by how so very many writers are anxious to get published.
This is both understandable and yet at times somewhat perplexing to me. Of all the arts that require a modicum of ability (which improves with hard work), it seems that writing is the one that everyone demands to be the most democratic, with almost everyone assuming if they have the desire then they should also have the ability, like it was enshrined in the Bill of Human Rights or something.
Now wait, don't jump on me. Everybody does have creative ability…that comes with being human. It's just that writing is only a small part of the spectrum. By all means, explore your potential gift as writer, tell a story, but if it turns out this isn't your thing, so what? There is something else that you are. I have a way with words myself, but there are days when I consider it a curse, because I'd rather, oh, paint or prove important mathematical theorems instead.
You might be thinking, "That's easy for you to say. You've been published internationally." Well, I'll tell you something: getting published is a nice validation of hard work and cultivation of talent, but it doesn't change a thing about you or your life. It's not the Magic Divide. Nothing special happens on the Other Side.
Over the years, I've seen many people pound their head in frustration at this writing gig and a few succumbing to despair. "I'm no good at writing" is translating into "I'm no good at all." And it isn't just the unpublished who fall into this trap—I've seen published writers who fall off the midlist into oblivion (who knows, I could be one this time next year) get sucked down into this.
That's why I reckon we all have to hold onto the core fundamental rule of writing: Everything else is more important.
Get more on Richard Lewis at SimonandSchuster.com
Published on February 25, 2009 00:00
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