I’ve always doubted that anyone, writers in particular, can teach others how to write. Wherever I turn there’s yet another writing course, another writer’s retreat, or another writer’s conference where handfuls of writers—often mediocre or downright appalling—promise to teach other writers the secrets of the trade in exchange for hefty sums. More incomprehensible is another class of events where literary agents and other industry professionals also feature as writing teachers. Granted that an art dealer could have a fair idea of which kind of painting may be an easy sell or what’s in fashion, but I doubt any would dare teach an artist how to paint.
I suspect that the temptation to step into the limelight before a bunch of inexperienced writers is too strong to pass, in particular if those writers are willing to pay for the service.
Grammar, syntax, and technique can be taught, but these subjects require memorizing rules, and the myriad pitfalls of creative writing: what to look for, what to do, and—more importantly—what not to do. It follows that such knowledge can be garnered from excellent books available at most libraries or downloaded from countless Internet resources. Since every writer I know is an avid reader, it should be within any scribe’s grasp to acquire the technical skills that competent prose demands.
I’m not a fan of Stephen King, I don’t like the genre, but I must confess to having read one of his books, from cover to cover, and at least one dozen times—or once a year since its first publication. The book, you might have guessed is “On Writing.” I love the book because it encapsulates the concept that writing cannot be taught, and offers the soundest advice (not lessons) that an aspiring writer can hope for. On page 74, he muses, "Writing is a lonely job." On page 144 he sentences, "If you don't want to work your ass off, you have no business trying to write well" and finally condenses the means to be a writer on page 145: "If you want to be a writer, you do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot."
But grammar, syntax and technique—which can be learned by reading and studying—are only part of the equation. In On Writing, King states that a person either has it or doesn't have it to be a writer. In his opinion, if you have it, you can improve and soar; if you don't have it, you can improve but will probably never make it. In other words: Talent cannot be bought, or taught. One can buy the talent of others, but that’s another story.
I don’t think writers need writing teachers, but readers certainly do. Look at it this way: Let’s compare, for argument sake, literature and cooking; where writers would be cooks and readers the guests sitting at the table.
A good cook (I don’t mean a great cook, a good one will do) must have a rare sense of taste and proportion and a vast knowledge of the raw materials. Perhaps the basics of the craft was gathered by watching mum, by collecting recipes or reading cookery books, but to determine if a fish has been previously frozen or the ripeness of a melon (without cutting into it) needs knowledge. There are intuitive cooks—those who have never measured anything or followed a recipe—whose cooking is a gift that belongs in the lofty realms of artistry. Like a writer agonizing over a scene, a cook may spend many hours scouting through shops and markets for the ingredients with which to create a special dish. Then, at the appointed time, he or she will set a platter in the middle of a table and wait anxiously the verdict of the eaters. The process is not unlike what befalls a writer, who having created a piece of prose holds his breath before the review of a beta reader or critic
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Here I must pause the argument line and reflect that the reason writers should never rely on the opinion of friends, acquaintances and family is their bias. Come on, after Aunt Gladys has sweat over the stove all day, it would be a cruelty to decree that the meat could pass as a substitute for leather or the peas make excellent ammunition for slings.
Food and prose tested on strangers, in particular those who pay for it and demand value for money, may not elicit enthusiasm but their findings certainly should be more valuable to a serious writer or cook. More rewarding still might be the findings of knowledgeable tasters.
And here is where we come to the crux of the matter: To appreciate the intrinsic quality of food—for the mind or the body—needs training and much tasting with a critical bent backed by knowledge.
If writers were to teach readers how to evaluate the quality and effort behind good prose perhaps they would become more demanding, which would be a good thing for the industry. If readers could spot at a glance wandering POV’s, and endless strings of repetitions, trite similes, or clichés in every page, they might become choosier about their reading matter, which in turn would be a boon for committed writers.
I’m not advocating that every reader should be a literary gourmet, far from it, only that readers could do with a little training to spot lazy and careless writers.
When one knows the work involved and the taste of a sumptuous roast with all the trimmings, Big Macs have a different flavor.
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Jim Giammatteo Saturday, 27 Oct 2012 11:11 PM via Facebook
Carlos, I agree with you. Imagine that! I think that "storytelling" is the base of good writing, and that writers either have it or they don't. If they have the gift of storytelling, they can learn the mechanics. Thanks for the great article.
Saturday, 27 Oct 2012 11:11 PM via Facebook
Carlos, I agree with you. Imagine that! I think that "storytelling" is the base of good writing, and that writers either have it or they don't. If they have the gift of storytelling, they can learn the mechanics. Thanks for the great article.
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