(A Thanks to Jean Heimann for posting the referenced essay on the CWO. Found it fascinating)
The Atlantic Magazine published an essay by Bret Johnston titled, “Don’t Write What You Know”. Mr.Johnston teaches an introductory fiction workshop at Harvard University. He passes out a bullet list to the students citing things that they should avoid. The final item on the list is the title to today’s blog. He states in the essay that after the students read this final item that “the idea panics his students because they have always been encouraged to “write what you know”.
Naturally—I panicked because I too, have heard this vicious, insidious type of encouragement –for years. I always assumed that what I wrote was somehow, in someway, coming from something I knew. I mean, if I take some words and use them to create some outlandish, multi-colored space monkey who speaks several languages and eats yogurt instead of bananas, I assume that somewhere inside me I was, at one time or another, exposed to some strange monkey business and I have stretched it out into something that is non-existent and I do not even know that I knew it in the first place. (Hey–it makes sense to me)
Mr. Johnston wrote, “an essential part of me dies when the student says, ‘What I wanted to do was—‘. The idea of a writer wanting to do something in a story unhinges me—” That sentence unhinged me. Don’t we want to do something when we write something? Do we not sense a purpose, a reason, a goal? If I get in the car to simply go for an unplanned ride I still have to know how to start the thing and guide it in different directions, right?
The point of all this is that sometimes (maybe many times) writing advice overloads me. Story structure, planned plot, flow, imagery, dialogue, how to do this and how not to do that. If I keep referencing all that stuff over and over all I learn is that I know less and less. My confidence wanes and it becomes reverse education. For me, I never actually know where I am going. My blank paper is my plot of land. My pencil/pen is my dump truck which is loaded with all the material I need to build my “dream house” from footers to finished trim and paint. I empty the dump truck on the paper and then I begin to sort everything out and put it together. I do not think I could do it if I did not know what I know. Trust me, I will not paint the drywall until it is installed, taped and finished. There are many who will not like the color of the paint I chose. No problem, they can paint their house any color they like.
LarryPeterson
Larry is a Catholic/Christian author and blogger and posts weekly commentary. His work has appeared in such publications as Zenit from Rome, Aleteia, New Evangelists, Top Catholic Blogs, Big Pulpit, Catholic365.com and others. His first children's picture book, "Slippery Willie's Stupid, Ugly Shoes" was published in 2011. In 2012, his full-length novel, "The Priest and the Peaches" was released. His second novel, "The Demons of Abadon", was released in the spring of 2016. Larry’s latest novel, “Horizon Homeless” was released in ebook format in May of 2017 and the paperback followed on July 27, 2017. Larry belongs to the Catholic Writer’s Guild, The Catholic Writer’s Society, The Knights of Columbus, and the St. Vincent de Paul Society. He has been an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion for over twenty years bringing communion to the homebound and hospitalized. He lives in Pinellas Park, Florida and his kids and six grandchildren all live within three miles of each other. His first wife died of cancer in 2003. He remarried four years later and became the primary caregiver for his wife, Martha who came down with Non-Hodgins Lymphoma in 2011. The cancer was in remission when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease in October of 2014. Sadly and unexpectedly, Martha passed away on March 27, 2017. The writer says, "God has me where he needs me and I try my best to make Him proud. Larry’s blog site is http://www.slipperywillie.blogspot.com You can find more at www.larrypeterson-author.com
Hey Antonella–I did not mean to suggest that you reject all writing advice. I was simply trying to say that TOO MUCH advice can sometimes overload ME. It may be great for others. Anyway, keep at it and best wishes.
I definitely agree with you.I never attended a writing workshop, but I was exposed to all the "instruction" about how to write when I was helping my son with his homework (I know, I shouldn't have done that, but what can I say, we Italian parents can't help spoiling our children). I told him to forget about that stuff and just write, and he did just fine. Later I started writing myself and, although it's kind of hard for me to write in English, I know that if I tried to follow any kind of rule I would never pick up my pen (yes, I'm old fashioned). My only guideline is: Does it sound write to me?