Episode 1: Learning and getting better at the craft of writing.

Hi writers, this is Jim Thayer. I'm a novelist whose 14 novels have been published by Simon and Schuster, Putnam and others. I taught fiction writing at the University of Washington Extension School for many years, and I'm the author of The Essential Guide to Writing a Novel. The second edition is out now. I'm beginning a podcast on the craft of writing a novel, and this is the first one. Isn't it wonderful to be swept up reading a novel? The story carries us along. We meet fascinating people, some we will fall in love with, big things happen to them, and the plot rushes along, and we hate for the novel to end. Remember getting to the end of Lonesome Dove and where the cradads sing, and Lord of the Rings and thinking, I just wish the novel were longer, so I could stay with these people. I don't want to put the book down. I don't want this world to end. How does that wonderful experience happen to readers? It happens because the writers are skilled at the craft of writing. They know to do certain things and to avoid other things. They know the techniques of the craft, the rules of writing. As you see what this podcast will focus on, the techniques of writing fiction. All professions have rules. Carpenters measure twice, then cut once. Commercial fishermen never step into a coiled line on deck. A lawyer keeps an eye on the statute of limitations. The craft of writing, a novel, or short stories also has rules. Some things the writer should always do, and some things the writer should never do, and some things where accomplished novelists differ in their methods, and for persuasive reasons. Rules, here's two quick ones, which applied almost all novels in all genres, and which we'll talk about later. Characters in a novel should not engage in small talk. That's a rule. Here's another one. The scratch disarm is better writing than his arm itched. There is, of course, the rule of exceptions. Everything we'll talk about is a rule of writing. We'll have exceptions, and they exist for almost every rule. Tolstoy's war and peace breaks rule after rule. Too many audition points of view, too much stopping in the story to lecture about history or culture. Characters that don't contribute to this story, too many words, too much peace, not enough war. Yet it is a masterpiece written by a genius. And some techniques are debatable with good arguments for both sides, such as the use of outlines, which we'll talk about later. So as writers, we should follow the rules. We should go with the percentages. We should do what has been shown time and again to work in writing fiction. Does this mean we can't be creative? Of course not. Wildly different novels are published every day. It seems they are wildly different to the reader, but in almost every case of a successfully published novel, the rules of the craft were followed. Total stories are presented in a certain way. Certain techniques are used, and that's what this series of podcasts will emphasize. Can writing be learned? What's the point of taking a writing class and listening to podcasts and reading books on writing if writing can't be learned? Can it? The answer depends on who you listen to. There's spits and gaffule as a German word, meaning a certain instinct which you either got or you don't. At least I think that's a German word. I took a class in German in high school and got a C in it, and it was a charity C. The teacher didn't want to see me again. Some authorities think writing is innate. William F. Buckley said, "Is everybody capable of writing a book?" The answer is clearly no, no more than of removing an appendix. But other people believe writing can indeed be learned and we can get better. The literary agent Donald Moss said, "One can learn a lot in fiction classes." The task of writing a novel is so complex that I strongly suggest that you not leap into it without some preparation and practice. Novelist David Morel said, "The ability to write is a gift." But if you have that gift, knowledge of the craft will make all the difference. Technique can be learned. Jack Beckham, who's one of the best writers on the craft of writing, said, "It is possible to learn how to write by writing studying models and reading books and articles about the craft." Donald Moss adds, "Yes, if you have a modicum of talent, you can learn how to do it." Here's my take on it. I've taught novel writing for a number of years. Everyone who has taken the class was a better writer at the end of the class than at the beginning. I'm not singling out just my class. Any good writing class where techniques such as point of view and scene structure and character development and dialogue are stressed will make someone a better writer. Podcasts can do the same thing. Even innately good writers often are missing a technique that they can learn by studying the craft. A class or studying a book or a podcast will make us more adept at the craft. Some of us may be born storytellers, and others may not be, but everyone can become a better writer. We're talking about how writers learn and how they think and will be talking about getting organized to write a novel. But let's right now talk about a small but important technique of writing. This technique we can take home today and our writing will be better for it. This is a money technique. Good writers know it. There's an old saying, "If the writer gives a character a reason to weep, and she weeps, the reader won't have to. But if the writer gives a character a reason to weep, and she holds it in, the reader will weep. A character's tears let emotion escape the page when the writer's aim is to keep the emotion bottled up right in front of the reader, so the reader will be affected by it. New writers love tears. Most of the time they are on mistake." This technique seems counterintuitive, but it works remarkably well. Here's an example. It's a paragraph of a scene. Prince was fourteen. The best German shepherd who ever lived. Two months ago the dog's hips had given out, and Susan had bought a little cart, and the neighbors all loved Prince too, and none of them laughed at the dog on a cart, as he gamely made his way around the neighborhood. Now Prince lay on his bed in the corner of the kitchen, his breath more and more shallow. Susan stroked Prince's ears. The dog's eyes were open, but they didn't seem to be seeing anything. His mouth sagged open, and just as the old hall-clock chimed six times, Prince shuttered, and took his last breath. Susan rubbed his head one last time, and turned away. That's the end of the scene, and it's powerful. Who doesn't suffer when watching a beloved dog die? But the new writer wants to go on with this. Tears coursed down Susan's cheeks. She sobbed, then made her way to the phone. She lifted the receiver about to call her husband, but her fingers trembled so that she couldn't push the phone buttons, and she sobbed again as she replaced this receiver. She would tell him when he got home that night. She reached for a kitchen towel and wiped away more tears, and a low moan of grief escaped her. Susan's tears in the sobbing hand, the trembling, have reduced the impact of the scene. The reader feel Susan is doing all the crying that's necessary. If your scene contains tears, it is likely that it is not as powerful as if the character remained dry-died. This scene should have stopped with Susan rubbed his head one last time, and turned away. We'll talk about this strong technique later. Let's turn to writer's block. A consensus exists regarding the effect of writer's block, which is, you can't write, there's no production. But there is no consensus regarding its cause or its cure. Literary Agent Donald Moss says writer's block is a real and painful condition. But Dave Barry assigns it to laziness. He says, people simply give up and don't want to put forth the effort to work through the barriers. No good writing is easy. Orson Scott Card, an art his novel is wonderful. Says writer's block may be caused when the writer is missing an ingredient for his or her novel. He says, often when you find yourself blocked, when you can't bring yourself to start or continue a story, the reason is that you have forgotten or have not yet discovered what is extraordinary about your main character. Samuel Johnson's biographer, W. Jackson Bate believes writer's block is the inner resistance to dragging oneself hour after hour to the bar of self-judgment. Or maybe writer's block is only this, John Updike asks, am I blocked? I thought I was a slow typist. Whatever the cause of writer's block to believe it is some systemic condition, something you've simply got like, that's to deprive you of decisions and options. It's like believing in fate where your destiny is etched in marble so there's nothing you can do about it. Your writing is taken out of your hands. Might as well go watch TV. Roger A. Bear notes, and this is one of the most important sentences I've ever read regarding writing, the muse visits during composition not before. Orson Scott card agrees. He says, don't wait for the muse to strike and force you to your typewriter. Such events are rare. In my experience, Orson Scott card says, muses tend to strike those who are at the keyboard typing their brains out, not those who are playing video games in the basement. Here's Neil Gaiman. Blaming writer's block is wonderful. It removes any responsibility from the person with a block. It gives you something to blame, and it sounds fancy, but it's probably more honest to think of it as a combination of laziness, perfectionism, and getting stuck. Gaiman continues, "If you're being lazy, don't be. If you're being a perfectionist, don't be. And if you're stuck, figure out where the story went off the rails or what you've got wrong and where you need to go deeper or what you need to add to make it work. And then start writing again." What do others say to cure the block? Some just wait it out. Mark Twain said, "When the tank runs dry, you've only got to leave it alone, and it will fill up again in time." Ray Bradbury played word association games, shaping door, coffin, attic, saying, "It's a great way to do things." I work out of writer's block by working, but I also have two tricks. First physical exercise. I go running. Charles Dickens walked. Plotting his great novel, "A Christmas Carol," Dickens walked about he walked, "About the black streets of London, 15 and 20 miles, many a night when all the sober folks had gone to bed," he says. A second trick. I read a novel that is particularly imaginative, often science fiction. That sometimes gives me the juice to return to the computer. Others block then can usually be overcome one way or the other. Don't just accept it to do so as to squander your time and talent. Let's talk about another aspect of writing, and that's the need for doggedness, for persistence. Science is the key to success in any field. President Eisenhower once said, "It's not the man who is so brilliant, who delivers in time of stress and strain, but rather the man who can keep on going indefinitely, doing a straightforward job." Ix Wisdom applies to writing, "Novelist Kevin J. Anderson says, persistence is much more important than raw talent. Most aspiring writers give up long before their chance arrives." What's the relationship between innate talent and perseverance, which is more important? Talent alone won't get us very far in writing. Leon Euras says, "Talent isn't enough. You need motivation and persistence, too." President Koolidge was known as Silent Cal, but when he said something, it was worth listening to, "Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not. Nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent." But when does a novelist need persistence, two times, during the writing and then after the novel is completed? First during the writing, listen to a few writers. George Orwell said, "Wreading a book is a long, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness." William Steyron said, "Let's face it, writing is hell." F. Scott Fitzgerald said, "All good writing is swimming, underwater, and holding your breath." My maternal grandfather began his working career as a coal miner, and my father was a farmer. Writing is easier than coal mining or farming, I suspect. But make no mistake. Writing isn't easy, not as easy as it may look to those who don't write. Such as Irving Thalberg, the famous movie producer who once asked, "What's this business of being a writer? It's just putting one word after another." Well, there are three reasons writing a novelist hard. The first one, Donald Moss, the agent, sets it out. The high failure rate of first manuscripts happens simply because a novel is a large, complex, fluid, and difficult to manage undertaking. A second reason writing is hard is that it's piecework. If you take a day off, your completion date is another day away. And then finally, no one will tell you what to do. Yes, our podcasts are going to set out some rules and techniques, and I hope give some solid advice, but it can't tell you what your next word should be, or your next sentence as you write. You are an apprentice, and there's no journeyman to instruct you regarding what to do next. Each new word is a new decision. Decision after decision, and it can be wearing, but it can be done. We can sit in front of our computer, our laptop, our keyboard, and work. We can start a novel, and we can work it through, and we can finish it. Yes, it's work, but for many of us, and I hope you, it's also fun. When is the second time that persistence is needed? It's after the novel is completed during the marketing process. A writer must be unrelenting in her effort to submit the work and must become hardened against rejection. Every professional writer receives rejection slips, and if you're not dogged in your pursuit of an agent or a publisher, if you do not pick yourself up after a rejection and send your manuscript to someone new, you simply won't make it as a writer. The best, the most talented, and now legendary writers took their share of shots from editors at agents. Here's what Mark Twain had to listen to from publisher George Carlton, standing there in Carlton's office after Mark Twain had submitted several stories including the jumping frog of Calaveras County. Carl said books, "Look at these shelves. Every one of them is loaded with books that are waiting for publication. Do I want any more? Excuse me, I don't. Good morning." Every writer has gone through this. When Stockett's novel, the help was turned down by 60 literary agents. Thriller writer Steve Berry told me that it took him 12 years and 85 rejections before an editor said yes. Joe Haldeman, a wonderful science fiction writer, was turned down by more than a dozen publishers before Forever War found a publisher and went on to win both the Nebula and Hugo Awards. And get this, nine British publishers rejected J.K. Rowling's first Harry Potter novel. Frank Herbert's Dune received 13 rejection slips. Rudyard Kipling received this personalized rejection slip early in his career. "I'm sorry, Mr. Kipling, but you just don't know how to use the English language." Theodore Geysel's first children's book was turned down by 23 publishers before Macmillan accepted it and suggested he use a pseudonym. So Geysel adopted the peculiar name Dr. Seuss for and to think I saw it on Mulberry Street. My cat, Jack, just jumped onto the desk, so if you are allergic to cat dander, you might want to get a little farther away from your speaker. So during both the writing and the marketing of our novels, we will need to be dogged. Otherwise, we probably will fail. I'm not sure persistence can be taught. Maybe we have it or we don't much like Courage or wit. But surely knowing, surely knowing that all novelists get rejected, that it is routine and has been suffered by even the best will help us persevere. Let's talk about another aspect of writing novels, and that's concentration. J.K. Rowling wrote much of the first Harry Potter novel in a coffee shop called Nicholson's Cafe in Edinburgh. Isn't that a wonderful scene to conjure up in our minds? Amid all the chatter and clanking and buzzing, she writes a classic. It sure worked for her. But for most of the rest of us, it probably wouldn't. For many people, being alone in a room is a requirement to write, and it's also a rare event. But being alone in a quiet room is essential for most novelists, because disturbances kill concentration. Here is the Nobel laureate poet W.B. Yates, bemoaning his failure to concentrate. All things can tempt me from this craft of verse, one time it was a woman's face or worse. This concentration is the key to success in anything. Listen to Picasso. People never concentrate enough. The reason why Suzanne was Suzanne is that he did concentrate. When he was confronted with a tree, he looked hard at what was there before his eyes. He looked at it as hard as a man with a gun aiming at his quarry. If he fixed his eye on a leaf, he never let it go. And since he had the leaf, he had the branch, and the tree could never get away. And here's Charles Dickens. I never could have done what I have done without the habits of punctuality, order, and diligence without the determination to concentrate myself on one object at a time. So as writers, we're in that room for one purpose, and that's to put words on the screen. We need to lock out distractions and keep our eyes on the screen. Well, is there more to concentration than that? I've tried a number of gimmicky tricks or gimmicky tricks and exercises suggested by books, but they didn't work at least for me. The sum of my thinking is that the more I like a project, the better I concentrate, which is a corollary of my grandfather's famous axiom. If you like your job, you'll never work a day in your life. Here's our last topic for today. There's a drawback to learning about fiction techniques. Gillus, played by William Holden in the 1950 movie "Sons at Boulevard" says, "Sometimes it's interesting to see how bad bad writing can be." Writing can be learned. That is, while we might not be able to turn ourselves into Shakespeare, everyone can get better by study and practice. That's the good news. The bad news is that study and practice will turn us into critics. Maybe harping critics will start seeing a lot of bad writing, because we now know good writing. Noveless Dean Kuntz says, "Not all published writers are good writers." When we learn a technique for good writing, we'll begin to spot the lack of technique in our pleasure reading. So we'll come across a sentence like this. The dog died suddenly. That's a horrible sentence or this. "You look lovely today," he said charmingly, "or the petals on the flower were very unique, or there were black tiles on the floor and there were red curtains on the windows. Or we'll read, "Smoke is coming into the house," he coughed. Each of these sentences has a bad technical mistake, and we'll talk about them all in a later podcast. But when we read these technical gaps, our heads come up from the novel. We're no longer seeing the story, but rather the awkward words on the page. The bad technique takes us out of the story. The drawback to learning how to write fiction is that you will see the author's hand in much of your pleasure reading, which may make your pleasure reading less pleasurable. Neil Gaiman says, "You can see the joints. It's like a professional magician going to a magic show." Publishers are mostly interested in a strong story, and most readers won't notice or mind some bad techniques when they're disguised by a compelling story. But for those of us who are learning the craft or writing, our new knowledge can cause some bumps in a story we are reading even a good story. We come to the end of our podcast. Next time we'll talk about things we should think about before we begin our novel and even our next chapter. And we'll talk about outlines and other documents that get us ready to write. This is Jim Faire. Until next time, keep tapping those keys.