Write Better Stories
In a recent Facebook post, a well-known author posed the question, “What is the best writing advice you have ever received?” There were many excellent answers, most having to do with not listening to criticism, persevering in the face of rejection, staying true to your own vision, and so on. By the time I got to it, most of the straightforward advice had already been given, so I shared a quote from my old mentor Harlan Ellison, intending it as a bit of humor: “If they are not buying your stories, write better stories.” I didn’t actually hear this directly from Harlan; instead, I read it in a blog post by Dean Wesley Smith, and he presented it as a Harlan quote. However, it sounds like something like HE would say and so I feel comfortable attributing it to him. Anyway, it got a few likes and I thought that would be the end of it.
But it was not the end. That quote came back to haunt me – in a good sort of way. You see, I have been going through some difficult times emotionally now that I am an empty-nester, sometimes feeling isolated and forgotten, and sometimes even questioning whether my best days as a writer might be behind me. Not feeling up to writing fiction, I have been focusing mainly on essays and book reviews. Once in a while a story would burst through, and that would be a cause for rejoicing, but for the most part a personal trauma I went through a few years ago has limited the fiction output. I was content with that, as long as I was able to keep writing at least something. (If I stop writing completely, you’d better check my pulse.)
The quote kept coming back to me again and again, especially the last few words. Write better stories! Write better stories! It was like a challenge that lifted my mood and got my creative juices flowing again. Don’t get me wrong: I love writing memoirs and essays and book reviews and other works. But the core of my output as a writer has always been my fiction, especially my short stories. Over thirty have appeared in magazines and anthologies, and well over a hundred have been published in my collections. Yes, I thought. I can continue to publish my essays and reviews, but my primary focus should be on creating the best short stories I’ve ever written. As soon as I set my sights on this goal, my mood lifted. It was as if I was giving myself permission to prioritize fiction writing again. I became so enamored of the idea that I composed and printed out a large sign: “WRITE BETTER STORIES” and I taped it to one of my kitchen cabinets where it will always be clearly visible. This has lifted a great burden from my heart. I don’t have to mope around anymore. Instead, I can get off my ass and write better stories. And instead of exploring Seattle’s museums and historical sites for their own sakes and merely to go out and do something different, as I have recently been doing, I can peruse them more intently – and mine them for the gold of story ideas. It is a matter of perspective, of course, and of reaching for the highest goals possible.
