Consider This: Moments in My Writing Life After Which Everything Was Different

by Chuck Palahniuk

I love knowing a lot of people, but the downside is that means going to a lot of funerals.

“For anything to endure it must be made of either granite or words.”

I’d paraphrase the writer Joy Williams, who says that writers must be smart enough to hatch a brilliant idea—but dull enough to research it, keyboard it, edit and re-edit it, market the manuscript, revise it, revise it, re-revise it, review the copy edit, proofread the typeset galleys, slog through the interviews and write the essays to promote it, and finally to show up in a dozen cities and autograph copies for thousands or tens of thousands of people…

In short, dialogue is your weakest storytelling tool.

And while people will argue that today’s audience has been dumbed down by music videos and whatnot, I’d argue that today’s audience is the most sophisticated that’s ever existed. We’ve been exposed to more stories and more forms of storytelling than any people in history.

Tom Spanbauer always said, “Writers write because they weren’t invited to a party.”

It’s possible no one is as lonely as writers.

Action carries its own authority.

Frankly I don’t even like likable people.

“When you’re single you date other singles. And when you’re a couple you date other couples.”

Armistead Maupin invented Mona’s Law. It states that of a great lover, a great job, and a great apartment, in life you can have one. At most you can have two of the three. But you will never, ever have all three at the same time.

In our world of fake news…this world in which the internet has eroded the credibility of all information…people want to know the context of a story just as much as they want to hear the story itself.

If you were my student, I’d tell you to forget about being liked. Tastes change over time, public taste as well as personal taste. Your work might not be immediately celebrated, but if it remains lodged in someone’s memory you have a good chance of being embraced over time.

So do not write to be liked. Write to be remembered.

You and I never walk into the same room as each other. We each see the room through the lens of our own life.

readers value surprise above all else in a story.

My point is that our past distorts and colors how we perceive the world.

Was it Kierkegaard? Was it Heidegger? Some egghead pointed out how people decide the nature of their world at a very young age. And they craft a way of behaving that will lead to success. You’re praised for being a strong little kid so you invest in your strength. Or you become the smart girl. Or the funny boy. Or the pretty girl. And this works until you’re about thirty years old. After your schooling is over, you recognize your chosen way of winning has become a trap. And a trap with diminishing rewards. You’re a clown no one will take seriously. Or you’re a beauty queen who sees her looks fading. You’re forced to realize your identity was a choice, and then to choose another. But you know this next strategy will never have the same passion as the one you’d chosen as a child. Now you’re especially aware that it’s a choice. And you know it, too, will likely fade.

To repeat: Your body is a recording device more effective than your mind.

But writing fiction allows you to experience escalating conflict, controlled by you. Writing fiction will help you deal with tension and conflict in your real life.

You see, the secret is to trick yourself into having a great time. Whether you’re on a twenty-city book tour or washing dishes, find some way to love the task.

This is another reason to bother collecting stories. Because our existence is a constant flow of the impossible, the implausible, the coincidental. And what we see on television and in films must always be diluted to make it “believable.” We’re trained to live in constant denial of the miraculous. And it’s only by telling our stories that we get any sense of how extraordinary human existence actually can be. To shut yourself off from these stories is to accept the banal version of reality that’s always used to frame advertisements for miracle wrinkle creams and miracle diet pills. It’s as if we’ve denied the real magic of life so that we can sell each other the sham magic of consumer products. Another example of the shop replacing the church.

Write about the moment after which everything was different.

Tom always told us, “Write about the moment after which everything is different.” Our lives are saved by such ridiculous moments. Language isn’t any help. Especially the words part.

What if all of our anger and fear is unwarranted? What if world events are unfolding in perfect order to deliver us to a distant joy we can’t conceive of at this time?