Into the Fire

Jessica Thomas got me thinking with her comment to my post “Am I so hard to please?” Here’s what she wrote:

“I know I tend to be a tough reader. After years of being uber critical of my own writing, it is hard to turn it off and read simply for pleasure. If anyone out there has mastered the art of making a clean switch from writer/editor to reader and vice versa, I’d love to hear how they did it.”

I wrote my first novel with no knowledge of the internet and with no typewriter or computer. That 744 page monster took 8 and ½ years to complete. When my youngest son received a computer from family for his high school graduation, Mom (me) learned that typing on a computer beat the heck out of a typewriter any day of the week so she (me) pressed on for another I-don’t-remember-how-long to get those hand-written notebooks transferred to this new-fangled machine which didn’t involve slinging the carriage after every line. (I know some of you children don’t have any idea what I just said.) Point being: the only knowledge I had of the “rules of writing” was from the absorption of many, many years of reading some of the best novels ever written and some of every other kind, too, and a devotion to writing which originated at a very young age and persisted through high school and my brief stint in college, popped up occasionally at the racetrack, and culminated when I began that first book. I had a solid lock on grammar usage and structure, kind of a knack for dialogue and basic storytelling, and a real love and penchant for long involved novels.

Fast forward to my beginning knowledge of the internet and its amazing doorway to writers, agents, editors, and the overall publishing gig. Keep in mind I’m still hammering away on novels two, three, four, and five during these new discoveries. Blogs opened new arenas of information, instruction, and explanation. And some of them served as the catalyst for dissecting my writing, holding it up for measurement against this supposed standard which established the current “rules of writing”. Well, call me stubborn—actually please don’t in spite of it being the truth—but some of these so-called rules made little sense to me, and I could confidently state that if they were followed to the letter by all authors, it would make for some very boring and formulaic writing. (Note: I’ve read the novels which religiously stuck to these “rules”, and that’s exactly what happened to them.)

It took some time before I understood that these were guidelines (don’t you just see Captain Barbossa every time that word is said?) for newer writers who were just feeling their way through the process of their desire to write. For those who maybe weren’t paying attention in their English/Literature classes or had to suffer through poor curriculum or bad teaching, the rules of writing began to put an order to their words and gave them a focus while writing their stories. Then with all the Donald Maass, Sol Stein, and Renne and King instruction manuals plus those more autobiographical directives by Stephen King and Anne Lamott, newer writers gained perspective and realized there could be a general expectation from the professionals. Until of course they read several novels from those well known authors who decisively broke the stinkin’ rules at their leisure and as a result threw the newbies into spitting spasms of finger-pointing shrieks.

Anyway, Jessica, there was a period of time after soaking in the tub of writing rules that I emerged shriveled and critically aware of all stretching, bending, and breaking of said rules by any writers—good, bad, or indifferent. Novels became almost painful to read, and the experience became decidedly un-fun. So there was a definite solution needed for this dilemma, and it had to be a good one. Something reliable. Workable. Real.

I trashed the rules of writing. Shucked them like corn husks. Picked out the ones I liked and kicked out the ones I didn’t. So long “he said, she said”! You’re monotonous! If you adverbs want to hide out in my stories, come on over. I’ll find a place for you. After all, you’re words, too—you have rights! I can follow shifting POVs, can’t you? Challenge me! I can follow when the scene and characters’ thoughts jump around: I’m up for it! Okay, active verbs, you’re useful, but you can get a little out of control when you start usurping your authority in sentence after sentence after sentence. You’re not any better than, say, a preposition. Play nice. Be fair. Other words want their turns, too. Okay?

I’ve had the privilege of reading several friends’ novels not yet published, offering any assistance I could—if I could. I’ve read some good stuff in their work. They’re writers. Each has a different voice, a style all their own. And it was just plain fun to serve them in any way I could. The last thing I wanted to do was tear apart their efforts. Fortunately there was no need to do so either. Now when a novel has passed the test(s) and gotten published, we have been programmed to think the standard is way high. Realistically we learn this isn’t necessarily so. In order to live with that we must remind ourselves that this entire industry is based upon subjective reasoning and opinions of what will appeal to either a particular audience or to the most readers. Those who make the decisions can be wrong. Or we can enjoy what others hate and vice versa.

My “opinion” on the whole matter is life’s too short to waste time looking at novels with a super critical eye. If you don’t have to review the novel, it makes more sense to ignore what you don’t like and enjoy what you do like while maintaining respect for the author as a person who has taken the time and made the effort to create something to share. If you hate it: tough. Move on to the next book. Maybe it will be better. And forget the rules of writing as a measuring stick for talent. Talent comes in all forms and in so many varied uses of all things in the English language. Create, write, and read in freedom. Celebrate the abilities of each.

Yeah . . . that’s my take on it.

Father, you are the fine-tuner. You are with us, don’t give up on us, keep us humble whether we like it or not. Everyday I need to thank you for who you are because of your love and grace and gifts. I’m desperate for more of you–always. Help me to be diligent in my pursuit of all things you. I ask it in the Name of Jesus, Amen.