Into the Fire

Writing is full of twists and turns. Cliché as it might sound, it’s true. While a writer receives instruction to write the story of their hearts, in tandem they often receive how not to write it.

The arguments of what constitutes good v. bad writing will never end. Of course there are qualifiers, but when you stop to really take a close look at them, most of the measuring factors address technique, grammar, and structure. And, yes, without a good presentation and understanding of grammar and story, chances are a writer’s work will not appear worthy of anything but family praises.

There is some irony in that a good amount of things which are now taboo frequently preside in “the classics”. Does that mean writing evolved to a higher level by the standards of today’s elite editors? Not in my book (pun intended). Some of the statements made in instructing writers smack of simple prejudice. Gather a few writerly types together who happen to agree on what they don’t prefer in fiction writing and suddenly we have rules which castigate the use of prologues, adverbs, adjectives, dialogue tags, and the length of long novels among who the protagonists must be to sell. Somehow it’s assumed everyone likes the same thing—of course they just don’t realize it—and therefore all novels should read alike.  They’ve assumed the position of the writing government, the one who tells us what we should like because we’re too stupid to figure out what’s good for us and indeed what we need to like because it’s better for us than what we might prefer.

The twists come when after adhering to the current rules, writers read the novels which definitely do not heed those same rules.

I know most of us upon reading the innumerable posts on the rules cannot help ourselves when reading others’ work, applying the editing techniques spoken of by all those professionals. It’s an exercise in frustration and/or self-righteousness. You recognize broken rules and thereby attain some sort of educated platform on what’s supposed to make writing “shine”. But does it? Make writing shine? Questionable at best.

I’ve abandoned reading published novels with the idea of critical examination. What’s the point? The books are published. They’ve passed the test—whatever the criteria. The book gets an “A”. It might not be my favorite, nor yours, but someone in the upper echelon of publishing liked it enough to invest in its worth. And if the rules were squandered or followed to the letter—it really no longer matters. If they were tossed away, obviously someone regarded them as mere “guidelines”, and if they were observed succinctly, then perhaps that house takes them seriously. Regardless of opinions within and without the establishment, the publishers bet their publishing dollars on the book.

If the book sells well, the publisher collects on their bet. If not, then their gain is minimal and the author’s is even less.

Learning the craft starts early on in life. At least it used to when I went to school. I’ve read a lot of high school level writing which would indicate this is not necessarily the case any longer. However, a writer, no matter what age, will absorb the craft via reading, study it outside of schooling, and keep after it until he/she gains an understanding, a voice, and the desire to expand and improve their creativity.

The twists and turns of the writing journey are not outside of God’s scrutiny. We sometimes forget He’s involved. We ignore the ordained steps and assume too much of it all depends on our efforts to observe the protocols of publishing, on our abilities to write what editors supposedly want, and to present the perfect product after months and years of our admirable work. Such is the human factor.

Lord, it all belongs to you. May we depend on you and remain desperate for you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.