Michael - alternate Thursdays When I was at
school in Nairobi in the sixties studying for my A levels, I chose too many
subjects. My majors were in the mathematical sciences, but I loved English and I’d
signed up for that also. However, it became clear that I’d bitten off too much
and that I would need to let the English go. In fact, I wouldn’t be allowed to
write the final exams in English because there was a limit on the number of subjects you could attempt. When I explained
this to my class teacher, he immediately agreed and cancelled my English registration,
writing a note explaining that “He cannot write anyway.” I presume he meant the
exams, but there was considerable amusement around that note! I wish I’d sent
him a copy of our first book when it came out fifteen years ago.
That
anecdote came to mind when I was thinking about who writes fiction and how they
attained the skills and expertise to do so. Stephen King, in his excellent
short memoir On Writing , claims that
most people can learn to write fiction pretty well and can improve significantly with work, study, and reading, although almost no one would ever be
able to reach the Nobel prize-winner class. So how do writers learn to write
and then improve their writing? There are probably as many ways
as there are writers. Many writers have a background in journalism and have
studied it at college, many have attended writing courses at a variety of
levels, and many, I guess, are essentially self-taught.
That was
certainly the case with Stanley and myself. When that pack of hyenas showed us
how to commit the perfect murder, we had no idea how to go about writing a
novel. We confused premise with plot. We rolled around in adjectives and
adverbs and indulged ourselves with long descriptions of things no one cared about.
We mixed points of view with gay abandon. We wrote complicated red herrings and
escaped down rabbit holes. But we’d read a lot of fiction and some of it – maybe
most of it – was decent fiction. So we knew what fiction should be like, we
just didn’t know how to get there.
Our saving
grace was that there were two of us. Each was reading the other's efforts and
editing it to move the prose closer to what it should be like. There were also
books, of course, and we read lots of those. (Yes, they help a lot.) There are
rules that need to be followed most of the time, and one should know what the
reason for the rule is, and what one is doing when one ignores it. For example,
cut out all those adjectives and adverbs and make each one fight for its place
in a sentence. Less is more. There are excellent books on all this stuff and I’m not
going to say anything more about it here.
I suppose
that like most subjects, the way you actually learn to write is to write. The
fact that Stanley and I each had an immediate and very critical reader to give feedback helped tremendously. I gather
that most serious writing classes work that way too. One also learns by
studying good writing because that shows you how the rules work and how you can
sometimes ignore them if you know what you're doing. I’ve always been a fan of
John Le Carr é ’s work. Whenever a new book of his came out, I would grab a copy and then read it for the pure enjoyment of the
story and the characters. After I’d finished it, I would set it aside for a few
days and then reread it, this time trying to understand how he managed to make
things work, especially when he broke the rules that we all know can’t be
broken. I recall a scene in The Mission
Song . Early in the book, Salvo, the protagonist, is trying to escape from
several thugs who are chasing him. It goes without saying that all the writing
must be focused on the chase, the near misses, and his eventual capture. But
no, Le Carr é cheerfully inserts a couple of
pages of Salvo’s backstory in the middle of the chase, and it actually heightens
the tension rather than breaks it. I’m sure every writer has a favorite story from a novel they like of successfully breaking the rules Stanley and
I write collaboratively and that has been not only part of the fun, but also
an enormous boost on the learning curve. Stanley also belongs to a writing
group in Minneapolis, and that’s another way that writers can get honest and
helpful feedback. Some agents do it too, and editors of course, but that’s when
the book is already complete and feedback may lead to a huge amount of
rewriting. I can't conceive of writing a 300 page novel before
anyone looks at any of it and gives feedback, but some writers always work that way.
Nadine Gordimer always finished writing the book before she was even willing to talk
about it. But she was a Nobel prize winner. Probably no one was as critical of
her writing as she was herself.
If you are a writer, what stories do you have about learning to write? I’m sure the process is still
continuing for you. It certainly is for me.

