A Writer's notebook, Day One-Hundred-Thirty-Five
One thing which I believe should not need to be said, but which I keep finding is apparently not recognized by many writers, is that just because something works in writing, it does not mean that it is the only possible way. In many cases, writers will offer advice in such absolute terms, and I think this is very limiting to how craft is considered. It is one thing to think of a certain path as valid, to acknowledge it as worth exploring or helpful in certain kinds of work, but it is another to, once finding a certain technique will work, close off the mind to potentials as yet unexplored.
The traditional wisdom about writing talks of the needs of characters, about plot structures, and about many other elements of story which are indeed valid and useful to understand. I would say, even, that it is often only possible to get past such ideas by knowing how they work intimately. But it is foolish to create absolutes where they don't exist.
I have talked about issues related to this in recent posts, mentioning my own frustration when I find that discussions with writers about craft turn contentious when they attempt to defend an extremely limited perspective. Though I am quick to point out that I'm not arguing the validity of any particular approach, but instead suggesting a broader view, it becomes clear that my comments are seen as combative. Ironically, I think that most writers are more capable and with the potential for greater creativity, but they have limited their own thinking.
It is quite simple: when a person creates a set of rules for how the world operates, they interpret the world through those rules. If a writer is certain that story functions in one particular way, they will always see every story as functioning in that same way, because that is how story works. If those elements are not met, it would not be a story, and so anything that is a story must contain those elements. If a thing is presented as a story, fairly quickly it is interpreted as having those elements. But, story is a thing that does not really exist and has no actual qualities in that sense.
To offer a simple way of defining story, it is the organizing of events in relationship to each other through time. A story is not a thing that happens, but a retrospective way of organizing the events. To offer a simple example, if someone is having a crazy experience, they might say that it "will make a great story." Not that the experience itself is, at present, a great story, but that it will be one in the future. Their is a recognition that we all have that story is not a thing which exists, but a way of organizing what has already passed.
As such, it is silly to say that stories need this or that, or must be told in one way or another, if they are to be effective. The concept of story is illusory to start, and it can do more things that most writers are willing to let themselves consider. I tend to think that even writers who do not want to go beyond those conventional boundaries are ill served by those limiting concepts. It is not that these authors will suddenly choose a different path, but that they will actually be choosing and understanding why in deeper way, which cannot help but enhance the work.
That is to say, I am not suggesting every writer needs to suddenly abandon how they have worked and find strange new techniques to test, but that writers need to question their choices, and to wonder what their is beyond the way they do things. A writer who thinks that they know how to do things, and who believes that their is truly only a certain way, is ultimately going to find they are stuck. It may be that they don't recognize this, because they are stuck inside a box that allows them to write many stories that are all largely identical. This is common in certain genres, where the writer is essentially filling in a checklist for the events, and the question is about the writing and the details, not the story itself. That certainly appeals for many writers and is a successful formula, but the writers following it are doing so consciously, for the most part. It is a choice, not a limitation in their thinking. The fun of writing such work, I would imagine, is often in that formality.
Still, how many writers follow similar paths and formulas, and think that is how all books must be written? Whether those are overt outline models, or just rules about the way that the main character should develop, I've encountered writers with very specific views on how these work and a belief that any other interpretation was wrong. They have found a way to do things, and that is the way that things are done. I've heard writers who plot say that no great book was ever written without an outline before the first draft. I've heard others talk about how outlines kill creativity. Both can be true, or false. It is a matter of the writer, or even of the piece that is being written. I have written both ways, and each has a value.
In the end, we, as writers, have a difficult task. Putting words to work is not easy, and it takes a real dedication. I can understand the desire for concrete rules, for the certainty that brings. It is a comfort, in a way. But, it is also something that keeps us from doing our best work, and we all need to be reminded, at times, that the way things have been done is not the only way they can be.
The traditional wisdom about writing talks of the needs of characters, about plot structures, and about many other elements of story which are indeed valid and useful to understand. I would say, even, that it is often only possible to get past such ideas by knowing how they work intimately. But it is foolish to create absolutes where they don't exist.
I have talked about issues related to this in recent posts, mentioning my own frustration when I find that discussions with writers about craft turn contentious when they attempt to defend an extremely limited perspective. Though I am quick to point out that I'm not arguing the validity of any particular approach, but instead suggesting a broader view, it becomes clear that my comments are seen as combative. Ironically, I think that most writers are more capable and with the potential for greater creativity, but they have limited their own thinking.
It is quite simple: when a person creates a set of rules for how the world operates, they interpret the world through those rules. If a writer is certain that story functions in one particular way, they will always see every story as functioning in that same way, because that is how story works. If those elements are not met, it would not be a story, and so anything that is a story must contain those elements. If a thing is presented as a story, fairly quickly it is interpreted as having those elements. But, story is a thing that does not really exist and has no actual qualities in that sense.
To offer a simple way of defining story, it is the organizing of events in relationship to each other through time. A story is not a thing that happens, but a retrospective way of organizing the events. To offer a simple example, if someone is having a crazy experience, they might say that it "will make a great story." Not that the experience itself is, at present, a great story, but that it will be one in the future. Their is a recognition that we all have that story is not a thing which exists, but a way of organizing what has already passed.
As such, it is silly to say that stories need this or that, or must be told in one way or another, if they are to be effective. The concept of story is illusory to start, and it can do more things that most writers are willing to let themselves consider. I tend to think that even writers who do not want to go beyond those conventional boundaries are ill served by those limiting concepts. It is not that these authors will suddenly choose a different path, but that they will actually be choosing and understanding why in deeper way, which cannot help but enhance the work.
That is to say, I am not suggesting every writer needs to suddenly abandon how they have worked and find strange new techniques to test, but that writers need to question their choices, and to wonder what their is beyond the way they do things. A writer who thinks that they know how to do things, and who believes that their is truly only a certain way, is ultimately going to find they are stuck. It may be that they don't recognize this, because they are stuck inside a box that allows them to write many stories that are all largely identical. This is common in certain genres, where the writer is essentially filling in a checklist for the events, and the question is about the writing and the details, not the story itself. That certainly appeals for many writers and is a successful formula, but the writers following it are doing so consciously, for the most part. It is a choice, not a limitation in their thinking. The fun of writing such work, I would imagine, is often in that formality.
Still, how many writers follow similar paths and formulas, and think that is how all books must be written? Whether those are overt outline models, or just rules about the way that the main character should develop, I've encountered writers with very specific views on how these work and a belief that any other interpretation was wrong. They have found a way to do things, and that is the way that things are done. I've heard writers who plot say that no great book was ever written without an outline before the first draft. I've heard others talk about how outlines kill creativity. Both can be true, or false. It is a matter of the writer, or even of the piece that is being written. I have written both ways, and each has a value.
In the end, we, as writers, have a difficult task. Putting words to work is not easy, and it takes a real dedication. I can understand the desire for concrete rules, for the certainty that brings. It is a comfort, in a way. But, it is also something that keeps us from doing our best work, and we all need to be reminded, at times, that the way things have been done is not the only way they can be.
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