Cocaine and Kisses: Knowing What you Write
It may not have escaped your attention that I have a fondness for bashing cliched writing advice. So far, I've taken on show don't tell and don't judge a book by its cover, but I haven't really done all-out battle with that old chestnut, "write what you know." An oversight which I shall now rectify, rest assured.
Telling a writer to write what they know may be the single most discouraging piece of advice possible. This is mostly because, at least for the young/beginning writers I know, most of what we know came from books. We are readers and writers, not livers. Or pancreases. I know that every time I've received this advice, what I've heard was: "Don't bother writing until you've lived long enough to actually know something about anything, you young whippersnapper! Now get back to making my sandwich." To me, it's basically another way for people over 30 to tell people under 30 that they are a. stupid and b. young and c. not making enough sandwiches.
Now, I'm not knocking experience. I completely agree that a person with a full, rich life is going to have a lot more material to write about than me, a bored/lonely college student who mostly just studies and surfs BuzzFeed (ok, I just went to the site to find a page to link to and it *literally* took me FORTY-FIVE minutes to escape the vortex of hilarity and remember that I was supposed to be blogging. Sheesh, who knew the internet was so interesting? Seriously, don't waste your time with this writing-blog crap... go look at the 24 Reasons Your Romantic Relationship will Never Compare to J.D. and Turk's.)
But the thing is that a person with a full life just brimming with rich experiences isn't going to necessarily have the same drive and/or time to write that a reclusive social cripple will. You have no idea how much free time being a social outcast gives you! Or... maybe you do. And not all of us want to wait until we're 65 and retired to start doing what we actually like to do.
Some of the things we want to write about are easy enough to try out in real life. Like, say you're 14 years old and you're writing a fanfic for some Nickelodeon show or something. (Do they watch Nickelodeon anymore, or is that more like pre-teens? I'm not real "in-touch" with the young people. In fact, I'm a little like this:)
(The thing I love about blogging is how the quality of my prose just improves and improves. It's Great American Classic material up in here. Yo.)
But what if the story you really, really want to tell is about a Jew during World War II who is rescued from a concentration camps when he's abducted by Tralfamadorians? Or about a drug addict who shoots so much cocaine into his eyeballs that he goes blind? The first one is impossible to experience, because, you know... time travel. Also, Tralfamadorians are notoriously skittish about abducting writers ever since the whole Vonnegut debacle. The second one you could theoretically try out, but it would be an extremely bad idea. Please, please don't.
Are you just stuck, then? Just doomed to only write about that which actually falls under your personal experience?
Of course not!
I mean, look at what fiction means: the word itself, "fiction", comes from the latin root fictus balonius (literally, "making crap up"). That's the beauty of writing. That's the point. Sure, maybe you'll never make out with the football captain in a hottub filled with melted chocolate. Maybe you can't actually punch your English teacher in the face for assigning a 1,000-word essay on symbolism in A Tale of Two Cities over the long weekend, or judo-chop your boss for forcing you to sort and collate 9,000 expense reports (or whatever it is real grown-ups do). Maybe you won't be able to celebrate your 21st birthday in a cafe in Paris, but you can write about it. You can write about all of it.
Maybe I should adjust my original complaint. It's not that I think "write what you know" is such a bad idea. It's just that I disagree with the consensus on what "knowing" requires. You don't always have to experience something to know about it. I don't have to get drunk to know it makes people act goofy and slur their words. I don't have to stab myself in the thigh with a penknife to know that it would hurt. I don't have to actually kiss Adam Levine to know that it would be the single most delicious moment of my life, including the time I had a chocolate-covered deep fried waffle with double-fudge ice cream. (Ok, I made that up, but now I really want that. Somebody make me that.)
You know more than you think you do. It's all fair game.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to BuzzFeed. I need to learn how to be a parent.
Telling a writer to write what they know may be the single most discouraging piece of advice possible. This is mostly because, at least for the young/beginning writers I know, most of what we know came from books. We are readers and writers, not livers. Or pancreases. I know that every time I've received this advice, what I've heard was: "Don't bother writing until you've lived long enough to actually know something about anything, you young whippersnapper! Now get back to making my sandwich." To me, it's basically another way for people over 30 to tell people under 30 that they are a. stupid and b. young and c. not making enough sandwiches.
Now, I'm not knocking experience. I completely agree that a person with a full, rich life is going to have a lot more material to write about than me, a bored/lonely college student who mostly just studies and surfs BuzzFeed (ok, I just went to the site to find a page to link to and it *literally* took me FORTY-FIVE minutes to escape the vortex of hilarity and remember that I was supposed to be blogging. Sheesh, who knew the internet was so interesting? Seriously, don't waste your time with this writing-blog crap... go look at the 24 Reasons Your Romantic Relationship will Never Compare to J.D. and Turk's.)
But the thing is that a person with a full life just brimming with rich experiences isn't going to necessarily have the same drive and/or time to write that a reclusive social cripple will. You have no idea how much free time being a social outcast gives you! Or... maybe you do. And not all of us want to wait until we're 65 and retired to start doing what we actually like to do.
Some of the things we want to write about are easy enough to try out in real life. Like, say you're 14 years old and you're writing a fanfic for some Nickelodeon show or something. (Do they watch Nickelodeon anymore, or is that more like pre-teens? I'm not real "in-touch" with the young people. In fact, I'm a little like this:)
But anyway. So you're writing this totally epic fanfic where Sam and Freddie get back together (yes I know I'm 23 damn years old and it's over. I'm working on moving on, ok?), and you're trying to write about them having a totally mindblowing kiss, but you're 14 and you've never actually kissed anybody. This is one of those situations that has a pretty basic solution: go kiss somebody. I realize that, being 14, if you haven't been kissed yet you probably think you're a troglodyte troll monster with bad breath and an unloveable face, but let me comfort you: you're in good company. I know plenty of foul-breathed trolls who've had lots of success in the lips department.
Also you're very attractive I'm sure, only not to me personally, because ewwww. Youths.
But what if the story you really, really want to tell is about a Jew during World War II who is rescued from a concentration camps when he's abducted by Tralfamadorians? Or about a drug addict who shoots so much cocaine into his eyeballs that he goes blind? The first one is impossible to experience, because, you know... time travel. Also, Tralfamadorians are notoriously skittish about abducting writers ever since the whole Vonnegut debacle. The second one you could theoretically try out, but it would be an extremely bad idea. Please, please don't.
Are you just stuck, then? Just doomed to only write about that which actually falls under your personal experience?
Of course not!
I mean, look at what fiction means: the word itself, "fiction", comes from the latin root fictus balonius (literally, "making crap up"). That's the beauty of writing. That's the point. Sure, maybe you'll never make out with the football captain in a hottub filled with melted chocolate. Maybe you can't actually punch your English teacher in the face for assigning a 1,000-word essay on symbolism in A Tale of Two Cities over the long weekend, or judo-chop your boss for forcing you to sort and collate 9,000 expense reports (or whatever it is real grown-ups do). Maybe you won't be able to celebrate your 21st birthday in a cafe in Paris, but you can write about it. You can write about all of it.
Maybe I should adjust my original complaint. It's not that I think "write what you know" is such a bad idea. It's just that I disagree with the consensus on what "knowing" requires. You don't always have to experience something to know about it. I don't have to get drunk to know it makes people act goofy and slur their words. I don't have to stab myself in the thigh with a penknife to know that it would hurt. I don't have to actually kiss Adam Levine to know that it would be the single most delicious moment of my life, including the time I had a chocolate-covered deep fried waffle with double-fudge ice cream. (Ok, I made that up, but now I really want that. Somebody make me that.)
You know more than you think you do. It's all fair game.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to BuzzFeed. I need to learn how to be a parent.
This is really good. Your purely natural medium comes with a built-in internet connection! How can a mere book capitulate that?
ReplyDelete