The Ease of Writing
By Jim Dempsey | September 12, 2023 |
We can all write, right? Most of us learned to write at school. Many of us then went on to write as part of our work: reports, plans, assessments, etc. And, in these days of social media, most of us write messages, posts and emails. Some of us even still write good old fashioned letters.
So, while it might be fair to say that most people write in some capacity, it’s not the case that most people are writers.
What’s the difference?
I think most people would feel misled if you said you were a writer because you spend most of your working day compiling reports. You probably have a more accurate job title.
Even those who write stories every day and are regularly published are more accurately called journalists than writers, although some journalists are also writers.
Merriam-Webster defines a writer as simply “one that writes.” The Cambridge Dictionary goes a little further and says a writer is “a person who writes books or articles to be published.”
Anybody can pretty much publish anything these days, and there are people who publish books that have so many basic errors and where the story is so incoherent that most of us would not consider that person to be a writer. That, as Truman Capote scathingly said of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, is typing, not writing.
Meanwhile, there are many people who have completed several works but, for many reasons, have not had them published, and yet we would consider them to be writers.
Which means we expect a certain quality to writing, whether published or not.
Pour your heart out
And yet, because so many of us can write (but let’s not forget the more than 700 million globally who cannot), many people think it’s easy to write – that it’s easy to be a writer. All you have to do is sit down and tap away at a keyboard and, after a while, you’ll have a book.
When I tell people – some people – that I coach writers, they think it’s a waste of time, either because most of us learned to write in school and so that should be enough, or because writing is something that takes talent that you either have or you don’t.
There’s no need for creative writing courses, they say, or to go on retreats or study for years to get an MFA or whatever other piece of paper; all you have to do, say these cynics, is write. Follow those lessons most of us learned at school and you’ll soon have a book – if that’s what you really want.
Hemingway agreed. Almost. “There is nothing to writing,” he (arguably) said. “All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
Most of us here know about that bleeding. We know it takes more than an infinite number of monkeys with typewriters to produce the works of Shakespeare. And I don’t believe an infinite amount of artificial intelligence units will cut it either – at least, not until they learn to bleed too.
And that is true of any art. But, for most other artistic endeavors, it’s expected that you spend years learning from the experts. It takes time to know how to capture a scene in oil on canvas.
Pretty much all of us can still at a piano and make a noise, even something resembling a tune, but we know that few of us will be playing in Carnegie Hall any time soon. I’ve mentioned my dancing skills before, but I know I’m a long way away from a role in even an amateur production of Footloose.
Talent plus practice
But so many people still insist that it’s easy to write. And by “write” I mean with the intention of a producing (but not necessarily publishing) a book, play, screenplay, short story, etc. of a certain quality.
I agree that it takes some talent to write well. And will. You’ve got to want to take the months/years of sitting at that typewriter to bleed.
And writing is a skill than needs to be honed – even for the most talented. It is, I’m sure all of us here would agree, a craft.
Writers, especially fiction writers (because that’s what I’m most familiar with) need to create a whole world – which could be wildly different from the one we live in – and populate it with a community of characters with histories who will grow and change and become better (or worse) people (or creatures).
And all that has to be done in a logical manner (at least logical for the story world) where one thing happens that leads to another, then another, and another, and so on. And there might be two or three other stories woven through this one, and they all have to develop at the right time and at the right pace, and written in a way that will be engaging so that readers will want to stay in this world and where there are not too many typos or glaring errors or plot holes that will irk readers and cause them to close the book or, worse, write a harsh review.
I know I’m preaching to the converted. Most of us in the WU community are here because we want to improve our writing skills, connect with other writers to hear their stories and be there for each other when we bleed.
We know it’s not that easy to write. Writing is about humanity, capturing the human condition, and there is a relatively small percentage of humans who can do that well. I think writing – good writing – will be safe from AI. That’s not the problem. It’s those cynics we need to persuade. Yes, most of us can write. We can form words and put them into sentences and paragraphs. But it’s another thing to “write,” to produce the kind of writing that makes you a writer. That takes time, skill and practice.
What do you think makes a writer? Can anyone be a writer?
Jim Dempsey (he/him) is a book editor who specializes in detailed analysis and editing of novel manuscripts through his company, Novel Gazing. He has worked as an editor for more than 20 years. He has a master’s degree in creative writing and is a professional member of the Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading and is a trustee of the Arkbound Foundation. Jim is fascinated by the similarities between fiction and psychotherapy, since both investigate the human condition, the things that make us uniquely human. He explores this at The Fiction Therapist website. If you have a specific concern with your novel, send an email to jim [at] thefictiontherapist.com, or visit the website to ask for a free sample edit. You can follow Jim on Instagram @the_fiction_therapist.
This quote from the movie “Ratatouille” always makes me think of writing. “What I say is true – anyone can cook… but only the fearless can be great.”
The perfect quote, Michelle, because cooking is a great analogy here too, although it’s gets even less attention in school, even though we all have to eat to live but wew don’t have to write to live – well, most of us don’t.
Michelle, that’s my favorite quote from Ratatouille as well.
Jim, it is the act of writing that makes us writers, whether we are writing for publication or not. I believe that some of my private letter-writing might be my best and also the most impactful. But when I began writing stories 20 years ago, that’s when I claimed to be a writer. Great post. Thank you.
I prefer to be generous: anyone earnestly trying to write a story. Earnest implies hardworking, failure accepting, and pure intention behaviors. To me it doesn’t matter if they ever finish because it’s the passion to have begun. So maybe I believe a writer is someone willing to imagine a story to the end or who willingly waits for the story to unfold.
You’re right, Susan, earnest is a great word here because intention is so important. If your intention is to type out 60,000 or 80,000 word and call it a book, fine, go ahead. But if you want to tell a story and tell it with pasion, then, yes, that’s a writer, whether they finish that story or not.
Thank you for this. I agree 100%, but many do insist that simply writing makes you a writer. There are so many analogies, by my favorite is, “Saying I can write, therefore I am a writer, is like saying I can sing, therefore I am a singer.” This, from someone who loves to sing along, but can’t even come close to carrying a tune. A singer, I am not. A writer, yes, I am.
My take? Writers are storytellers who have committed to the log game of learning how to shape the experience of a reader in order to reveal something to them about the human condition. The characters don’t necessarily have to be human. Watership Down. Winnie the Pooh. Animal Farm. Love, politics, connection, betrayal. Writers are a little shamanistic, in my view, traveling to other realms and bringing back chunks of magic. Wonderful question. Wonderful post!
Thank you, Susan. And I love the word shamanistic to describe writers and their journey to bring back some magic. Perfect.
I did mean to write ‘long game’. :)
Hello Jim. I’m old enough to remember when the current taken-for-granted elements needed to become a fiction writer hardly figured. You mention a famous quote from Hemingway. Does anyone think Hemingway made his bones as a writer by taking writing courses, reading how-to manuals, earning an MFA, etc? Does anyone think today’s approach has much relation to any other earlier writer of significance? So, my question is this: What happened? I have my own thoughts, but I would really like to learn what you and others think on the subject.
Thanks for this, Barry. And Hemingway is a particularly good example.
His style throughout his career can be traced back to his days as a cub reporter at the Kansas City Star, which encouraged short sentences, short paragraphs and ‘vigorous English.’ Then he was a prolific writer for the Toronto Star where he undoubtedly also got feedback from his editors, and those guys (inevitably guys) didn’t coddle their reporters with any gentle, feeling-sparing critique. If he had to rewrite the whole piece, he would’ve known about it.
And then he had Gertrude Stein as a mentor and the benefit of learning from all those others in her salon, the ‘Lost Generation’ of Ezra Pound, James Joyce, etc. I think most people with an MFA would trade in that certificate for this kind of training, which I think only proves the importance of a community of writers, of honest feedback, and of writing and rewriting.
I don’t think anybody woke up one morning to find they were a recognizably great writer. I takes that little something more, I think.
Thank you for replying, Jim. Having read biographies of Hemingway before teaching his work, I am familiar with his newspaper background, and his writer friends in Paris. What also needs to be added to the list is how widely Hemingway read and learned from major fiction writers, and how he threw himself into direct experience (driving ambulances in WWI [200 pieces of shrapnel in his back], constant travel, hunting and fishing, etc). True enough, writers today can’t duplicate such experiences. But learning from the best fiction writers by reading them, teaching oneself to be observant, and sharing writing with others are things we can all do.
I hear ya, Jim. The average person is unaware of what it takes to be a writer today. And that’s okay. I am only slightly educated on the difference between a chef and someone who cooks at home. There’s a chance I could discern a musician from someone who merely plays an instrument, but my ears are not trained for such details. I appreciate the work of visual artists when wandering galleries, but I have no clue what separates their work from my daughter’s artwork.
I suspect, however, the nuances are irrelevant. A chef knows he’s a chef, even if others cast doubt. He’s poured his heart and soul into his craft. A writer knows when she is a writer, despite the naysayers. She feels it to her core.
My advice to writers is to ignore the masses. Listen only to your gut.
Great post, Jim. I’ll share.
Hugs
Dee
Thanks, Jim. This line from today’s post is memorable: Writing is about humanity, capturing the human condition, and there is a relatively small percentage of humans who can do that well.
Well said, Jim. And then there is the debate that we play out in our own heads, deciding whether we deem ourselves writers. Or at least, good writers. This has nothing to do with reviews or others’ comments.
This is a thought-provoking post, but I’m having a little trouble defining “writer.” It is my misfortune to have a spouse who is fond of “America’s Got Talent.” I have noticed a trend toward very young people who are really rather bad at what they’re attempting to do, but will tell the world that they are determined to succeed because the kids at school make fun of them, or because one of their parents died. I’m not being mean. They do this. It’s excruciating. One example is a teenage boy with a compact and somewhat square body, whose talent is free-style “dance.” Kicks, splits, rhythmic gestures, enthusiasm. I don’t know much about dance, but I know he’s not ready for prime time. “Awkward” would be my analysis. The audience loves him, though, and they keep promoting him to the next round.
Is he a dancer?
Thank you for this.
The big difference for me is between being a writer and being an author. Short form: Writers write; Authors are published. I write—and query and hope. But I agree that writing is a craft, and in the hands of some, becomes an art. I think it happens when reading what the writer produced communicates something that feels meaningful to the reader.
I’m not offended when people who write without craft call themselves writers. I’m sometimes envious when people I feel lack craft are published, but I still believe in mastering the craft.
There are no blackbelts for writers, or ranks (writing lieutenant) or titles (writing vice president), so we’ll continue to agree and disagree who’s good. I’m beginning to understand that to become an author takes more than sound writing craft and the physical and emotional stamina to bleed . One must also have a grasp of, if not some mastery of marketing.
One thing that seems common to all these responses is that none mentions success, defined as earning money or being published, as a condition of being called a writer. Which is as it should be. If financial reward or critical acclaim mattered, Van Gogh would not be called an artist.
This topic swirls around in my head constantly, sometimes coming to the fore when I listen to someone talk about their new book, which sounds exactly like their old book, which they wrote in three months. I’m never sure if I should envy them their skill (?) or be appalled. Computers have made everything easier, so when I think about the definition of a writer, I lean on earlier experience. If you can write your novel on a typewriter by yourself, if you have the staying power to do that several times to make corrections and deepen the story and characters, then, yes, you’re a writer. I don’t know any writers who wrote a fully formed first novel. The writers I admire are the ones whose first efforts show promise before they go on to develop into staggeringly moving thinkers and storytellers. A writer takes me into someone else’s life and leaves them more compassionate and wiser from the experience.