Into the Fire

I found this post written back in 2007. I've written about the topic since, but this is a fairly comprehensive article on the subject which was titled "The Effects of Self-Editing . . . on others." 

Oh the books we must read to learn to write . . . meaning the instruction manuals written by editors, authors, agents, publishers — who did I leave out? Critics, reviewers, readers? Let me see . . . Oh yes! The wannabes.

Wait. They haven’t actually written the manuals: they’ve memorized them. “The rules” have been committed to memory and applied to every piece of literature they’ve since read after the major chore of imprinting them upon their minds. So, they conclude, this author disobeyed this law of the publishing jungle, and THEY GOT PUBLISHED! Writers’ worlds all over the literary globe plummet in dismay. What is going on?!

I think it’s high time to point out that “rules” don’t a story make. In fact, observing these so-called rules doesn’t even necessarily make a piece of good writing. Since I’m prone to using horse analogies, let me make one here. At some of the most prestigious auctions in the Thoroughbred realm, yearling horses have sold for millions of dollars. Yes, millions. Some of them are not yet two years old. Now what do you suppose is responsible for such a ridiculous sum of money being spent on an individual young Thoroughbred? I can assure you it isn’t just their looks—in other words, their physical conformation or their shiny coat. No. It is their pedigree, their lineage. If they’re by a champion stud and out of a champion mare—meaning in racing lingo: multiple stakes winners of impressive, big purse races—their value is accentuated as bloodstock agents wager on if they’ll be able to replicate their sire’s or their dam’s fame and fortune. So with that in mind, you can imagine the disappointment when a multi-million-dollar youngster shows about as much ability as a Shetland Pony. Here you had this impeccable breeding and a gorgeous, perfectly conformed physical specimen who couldn’t “run a jump” as the racetrack expression goes (to indicate no talent).

And so it can become with a writer who puts rules ahead of story, ahead of passion, ahead of voice, and ahead of using the God-given gift of writing for anything besides replaying the story implanted in our psyches for retelling via chosen words. The “perfect” composition does not necessarily yield a “perfect” story. Especially because perfection is unattainable outside of God.

If you think “God-given” applied to the writing gift makes it “special”, keep in mind the only reason the gift is special is because God has given it for His pleasure and His glory. He has also gifted people in abundant other ways, and they are of equal importance to Him, unlike to many of us who somehow seem to elevate having a talent in “the arts” as something extra special.

It is valuable to communicate life within a story. But it’s even more valuable to receive the idea from the Holy Spirit and work through the revelation of the characters and plot, committed to telling it the best we can. And that “best” may appear flawed to some others—in fact we can pretty much count on it—but if it’s our best work and done in obedience to the Lord, He will receive it with pleasure and satisfaction.

However, if pleasing Him is secondary to pleasing publishers, then the world of writing stories will become a murky place where rules contract and expand according to whose manual you study or what professional you seek to please. If you’re a Dostoevsky-type writing to please a Hemingway-professional, what will you do?

The wannabes must be told to “just write”. Then to let their material be read by real readers outside the industry. People who normally and regularly read novels, have their favorites, and recognize a good story—even if it doesn’t jive with the writer’s favorites. Choose those readers wisely. Don’t ask them to “critique” the manuscript. Ask them to reveal what they think of the story. Period.

If you believe God has called you to write, be sure you paid attention to grammar in junior/middle/senior high school. Understand the basics of writing. If you don’t, you can count on remaining an amateur. Breaking the rules of good grammar only works when it’s intentional. If you do it without knowing it, it will look and sound ignorant. Pray about the call to write. Make sure it’s your gifting. Then ask the Lord to touch your skill and give you a dedication to making your craft acceptable and honorable to Him.

And please quit parroting the “show, don’t tell”, “never use adverbs”, “only use ‘said’ if you must use a dialogue tag”, “italics shouldn’t be used—hardly ever”, and on and on and on until the instructions have eliminated every creative way to write and express oneself in story.

And, finally, edit yourself. Don’t edit anyone else unless God has called you to be an editor. If you’re a writer: write. Wait. Go back. Edit. Use your writing ear before you lop off words based on “rules”. Editing those writers whose novel you’re holding in your hands makes you look envious and foolish. Their book is published. And yours is not. Your being able to point out broken rules on the pages proves only that you don’t get the fact that rules do not a story make and who in the world knows why someone really likes a book and thinks it will sell?

Father, for all of those you call to write, may we all put you first. May we write what you have given us to tell. May we seek after you with our whole hearts. May we desire to please you above all others. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.