By Kevin Paul Tracy
This is not going to be a popular opinion with a lot of people out there, including many aspiring writers.
In answer to the question, “Can you teach someone to write?” my answer is yes…and no.
I firmly believe you can teach someone to write, but you cannot teach anyone to be a writer.
I’ve said for many years, everyone has at least one story to tell, and I mean it – absolutely everyone has at least one story to tell. Telling that story is one thing. Telling it well – in the sense that the words are spelled correctly; the grammar is structured according to current norms; the characters are built according to the latest personality tropes and types; the plot follows standard forms and formulas; the narrative utilizes the prescribed forms of metaphor, simile, and exposition; and the arc of conflict builds, climaxes and resolves as it should – can be taught to someone willing to learn. These are all critical building blocks to fiction we all need to learn, but if this is all you have, I’ve read these stories, and all I can say is, “Yawn!”
Learning to weave a tale like a fine but tattered fabric is nothing that can be taught, it can only be felt. Writing is passion, writing is pain, writing is one of the most intimate acts of self-exploration, and in some cases self-destruction, there is. But more than anything else, writing is love. Writers love stories, love the written word, love to read as much as write. Until you’ve tried to continue typing through the fog of your own tears, you’ve never written anything. Until you’ve read and re-read a passage, unable to believe that you wrote something so beautiful, you’ve never written. Until you’ve chewed your nails until they bled while waiting for your favorite reader to finish your latest chapter and tell you what they think, you haven’t written.
Writers love the story. They embrace it, swaddle it in a way only a parent who holds their own newborn child could possibly understand. Their own favorite writers, novels, characters, and stories are as known to them as boon companions, loved by them like family, cherished by them like the unrealized dreams of childhood. Writers keep a copy of an obscure book or an otherwise critically panned movie for the one line of dialog or piece of narrative that speaks to us. I, myself, keep a copy of the flawed and largely disregarded “The Worm Ouroboros” by E.R. Eddison because the over-the-top scene setting and narrative descriptions tickle my sense of author self-indulgence and narrative excess.
Finally, writers will understand what I’m trying quite poorly to say in this article. Anyone can teach you to write, but no one can teach you to be a writer. That is something you must discover within yourself entirely on your own, if it is there to be found.
Don’t miss Kevin’s latest releases: the startling and engrossing series of gothic thrillers featuring vampire private detective Kathryn Desmarias, including Bloodflow, and Bloodtrail, the bestselling sequel to Bloodflow; also the wonderfully entertaining espionage thriller, Rogue Agenda.
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You know! You expressed what I have felt during significant moments while writing, Kevin! “…continue typing through the fog of your own tears.” — wonderful! I’ve never heard the answer to that question so completely answered.
Ironically this is the same topic I touched upon in my most recent blog post. We can be shown basics and guided through our attempts but cannot taught to be highly proficient at anything we do without our practice and experience.
My father was a juggler and eventually he brought my mother into his act. When I was young he showed me how to juggle and taught me the basics. I practiced until I was good enough to become part of the family juggling act. I got by enough to do what I needed to do for the act. Later, I went out on my own and worked professionally as a juggling performer. But I still never practiced enough to become a truly good juggler.
I was shown how to juggle, guided in what I needed to do to get by minimally, but I never attained greatness due to my own laziness and unwillingness to become any better. I can tell people that I’m a juggler but no way I’m going to display my juggling skills where there are highly skilled jugglers who are far better than I.
In fact, I have inspired others to learn to juggle and they have become very proficient top rate jugglers. I can’t say that I taught them that. I guess we can teach some basics but beyond that we can only take credit for having inspired or provided encouragement. Greatness is not taught but learned through doing.
Arlee Bird
A to Z Challenge Co-host
Tossing It Out
Arlee- Juggling is a great metaphor for, well, anything: Writing a novel is like juggling…cooking a gourmet meal is like juggling…herding cats is like juggling…see? Heheheh