There are plenty of born writers. But there is no such thing as a writer who is born writing spectacular prose. There are child musical prodigies and child artist prodigies—but no child writing prodigies. And there never will be. Language is too complex a medium to master as a kid. It’s complex to master at any age—unless you work at it.
Creativity and imagination are innate. But the actual writing (figuring out which words in which order to put on paper) is a learned skill. It’s honed and developed over time by practice/editing/analyzing/dreaming/agonizing/meditating/screaming or whatever else works for a particular writer.
I have a sign on my writing room wall: Endure With Alacrity—which means “cheerful readiness.” Oh brother. That makes me laugh. (I’d like to get up in the morning with cheerful readiness.) I keep writing, cheerfully or not, but hopefully better by the day.
I know I can improve as a writer. And I want to. I’m on a mission to be the best writer I can—because it would be incredibly embarrassing for me to be a crummy writer. One of the ways I try to close in on that goal is to read “How to Write” books.
I enjoy books about writing by successful authors who share their perspectives on the writing life and techniques of the craft—like Stephen King, Elizabeth George, Madeleine L’Engle, Carolyn See, and Anne Lamott. I think all best-selling authors should be required to write an essay on how they achieved this status. Nothing elaborate—insights about their writing progression; insights about how to jump-start the creative process; words of wisdom to struggling writers. I’d like to start with John Irving, followed by Michael Chabon and Anne Tyler.
I’m guessing the authors in one way or another would say that a key to a successful writing career is self-belief. There are plenty of pesky roadblocks that can interfere with achieving it. The trick is not to get discouraged before you’ve navigated around/over/under/or through them.
There’s a great quote from John Steinbeck. In fact, it’s painted on one of the walls at the Steinbeck Center in Salinas, CA. He says:
“A writer must believe that what he is doing is the most important thing in the world. And hold to that belief, even though he knows it isn’t true.”
One of the best how-to-write books that I’ve read is Dare to Be A Great Writer: 329 Keys to Powerful Fiction by Leonard Bishop. The author echoes Steinbeck’s thought:
“Unless a writer lives with a periodic delusion of his greatness, he will not continue writing…while he writes, a slender vein of daydreaming should be pulsing through his consciousness…seeing himself speaking in crowded auditoriums…attending ultra-posh parties…delusion must be part of the writer’s bloodstream…it is the ‘healthy madness’ that keeps him sane and writing.”
While you’re at it, may as well daydream about an appearance on Oprah’s book show—or reading your book to Kermit—or dancing with it on Ellen—or watching it being filmed on the set. If you’re going to dream, dream big!
Negative people are another impediment to the writer’s life. Cynics, naysayers, pessimists, disapprovers will steer you off track, so steer clear of them altogether. (I’d steer clear of these folks even if you were not a writer!) Besides, it doesn’t matter what they think—only what you think.
A terrific book was published this year called Ignore Everybody: And 39 Other Keys to Creativity by Hugh MacLeod. I plan to write a blog about this book, but in the meantime, ignoring everybody is good advice if they waste your time or bum you out.
Lastly, and speaking of bum (but a different kind), there’s the “bum glue” rule: Seat of your pants to seat of the chair. Another sign I have on my wall is: Write everyday with undeviating persistence.
The more you write on a regular basis, the more it prevents your brain’s writing muscle from atrophying. Your dedication by showing up everyday also convinces your subconscious to nurture your creativity. I don’t think the habit of daily writing can be overstressed. You need to determine how much time you can devote and then guard this time commitment with your life. By writing daily (even for thirty minutes at a stretch), you develop continuity in your lifestyle. This also helps to keep your project fresh in your mind.
I believe in a day of rest, so six days a week works for me. A day off gives my brain a reprieve and recharges my batteries for another week of productivity.
There you have it: Belief in yourself and writing perseverance. What are you waiting for? Get going—and prepare for greatness!
