One of the paradoxes as a student of creative writing was the number of times I heard my teachers declare that writing cannot be taught. In what other profession than writing could a professional declare that the reason for his employment, the teaching of this vocation, is not possible? At the time, I wondered why I was paying this or that teacher’s tuition. And yet despite their best attempts not to teach me writing, I did learn how to write stories and novels from these instructors.
The cant of novelists and poets is that rules for writing are useless. Any talk about writing is useless. Here is a quote my articulate friend, a poet named Paul Hunter, posted on his FaceBook page the other day. “They’re fancy talkers about themselves, writers. If I had to give young writers advice, I would say don’t listen to writers talking about writing or themselves.” This is from Lillian Hellman. One first blush this seems very sensible, since she is calling them “fancy talkers,” these writers. They are good with language just as con artists are good with language. Her statement essentially says that writers are full of bullshit, and despite being skilled practitioners at writing (a skill like plumbing, farming, or digging) they cannot be trusted to write honestly about writing. It seems analogous to saying, “They are fancy diggers when they dig for themselves these ditch diggers. If I had to give a young ditch digger advice, I would say don’t listen to ditch diggers talk about digging or themselves.” Perhaps a ditch digger doesn’t have a great deal to say about digging a ditch, but I’m sure they know one or two things about digging a ditch.
Hellman’s assertion is irrational. How is it that a skilled writer would have nothing worth hearing when talking about writing? You simply would not say this about a skilled practitioner of just about any other work from migrant fruit worker to investment banker. Even Hemingway who embodied this anti-intellectual ethos of “don’t write about writing” that it was in fact bad luck, left behind enough statements about how to write that Larry Phillips was able to compile a short writing guide, Ernest Hemingway on Writing. There are volumes of writing about writing and much of it is pretty good.
I have found the following books very helpful:
- How to Write by Gertrude Stein
- The ABCs of Reading by Ezra Pound
- Revising Fiction by David Madden
- The Art of Fiction by David Lodge
- Writing without Teachers by Peter Elbow
- Manifestoes of Surrealism by Andre Breton
I have even found the fancy talk (to be polite) in John Gardner’s annoying texts The Art of Fiction and On Becoming a Novelist to be useful.
I think the main reason there is this weird prohibition about trusting writers writing about writing is that in fact reading about writing is no substitute for the act of writing just as learning to dig a ditch is not something you can really learn for yourself by reading the book Accounts of Diggers: Digging Graves, Ditches, and Wells in North America. You have to use a shovel yourself to learn to dig and you have to use a pen yourself to learn to write. But just because this is the case, does not mean that writers are useless when it comes to writing about writing, rather they are describing something they have learned, and maybe something they have learned is of use to you. So maybe Hellman should have said, “They’re fancy talkers about themselves, writers. If I had to give young writers advice, I would say listen to writers talking about writing or themselves, but consider the source.”
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Yeah, writing about writing is a strange beast. I think the apprehension is based in the fact that there’s no doubt there’s an “event horizon” of sorts that once you reach that point — the actual process of writing the words and getting lost in that imaginary world — everyday logic and rules don’t apply. So how can you accurately talk about it or provide guidance? Now, everything before and after that moment can be objectively discussed, criticized, etc.
I completely agree with you. And I think that I learned a lot about writing by reading. So in a way, I am disagreeing with you (I don’t think I was born with an innate skill–I learned by example) but in another way, I am backing your point up (that writers have something to teach us). I have read certain favorites over and over again so that they become a way of thinking. I don’t think I could write before I read.
I think writing can/can’t be taught in the same way any vocation can/can’t be taught. There’s basic instruction for everything but success is usually determined by something not taught.
Yeah this is such a crucial lesson for those just starting out to understand, that yes, talent counts, and if you’re someone like say Shakespeare, maybe it counts a lot because after all where were the likes of Robert McKee back in the day? BUT for those who want to write to be pounded on the head that “no one can teach you how to write” is defeating and elitist. That’s part of the mystery of writing. That where and how it comes to us differently, through different experiences, difference individual needs and desires, and through the basic make up of our personalities.
There are probably many people who have stories to tell in unique ways who don’t ever try because they’ve been told along the line that if it doesn’t come easy, then you just don’t have “what it takes.” Hah!
I’m paraphrasing here, but I think Robert McKee says almost no one has so much talent that he doesn’t have to work at it, can’t learn from others. We wake up every day and push our little bit of talent in a pile and go to work.”
Shakespeare was a student of Italian writers and his work is a great example of writing as synthesis (of things he’d read) rather than pure invention, so even Shakespeare had his Robert KcKee. I guess part of my point is that writing is a lot like ditch digging — that you can’t really learn to write unless you write, and you can’t really learn to dig a ditch or grave unless you dig. But at the same time, skilled practitioners of writing or digging know a thing or two about writing or ditch digging.
@ gaydegani, I totlly agree I “that ‘no one can teach you how to write’ is defeating and elitist.” It sends the message that those who can teach themselves to write will with or without teachers — that it happens in some “magical way,” to a few elite students who have been chosen by the muses. The statement clearly abrogates the responsibility of the writing instructor to teach writing. As a result many of my writing instructors appeared baffled and bewildered by their role as writing teacher. (I’m thinking of one fantastic writer of short stories sitting at his desk and going over my manuscript and saying, “I don’t really know what to say. Why are you here again?’) They are willing to take the job, and yet quickly claim that the job is impossible to perform. Learning to write requires gaining tacit knowledge; there are methods and practices for effectively teaching tacit skills.
When I attended school formalists such as E.M. Forester (much less Robert McKee) were considered gauche (a reaction I believe to the New Criticism) except for a few old guard instructors who expected their classes to have a working knowledge of Aristotle to Northrop Frye. In the absence of a critical framework to talk about prosody much less narrative structure most of my classes depended on the writing workshop and on occasion close readings of contemporary work. As you can imagine, a room of mostly under-read twenty-somethings with nascent analytical skills had little to say about either our student written stories or the contemporary novels. The only thing of value I can imagine that occurred in that settings is that we wrote and we read closely. This method suffered by closely adhering to the idea that writers (such as the instructor) had nothing valuable to say about writing. When in fact it was clear form the often contemptuous murmurs and spontaneous eye rolling from my instructors they knew a hell of a lot they weren’t saying.
@mattbriggs, Hey thanks for replying to my note. I suppose I’m overly sensitive to those who claim you can’t teach writing because frankly, it kept me from writing for a long, long time. After all, who the hell was I with not enough talent to write as well as those I who’d already published?
But I am the first to agree that there is a “magic” element to the whole mix which can only really be experienced by writing every day, doing the work, facing the empty-headedness that often comes with doubt and fear. Malcolm Gladwell (dissed quite humorously around the net lately) did make me feel better with his 10,000 hours. To me it felt like vindication to find out work and effort can yield a level of proficiency if not brilliance.
But the magic. That is the payoff, those moments when a writer is in an altered state, channeling another being from somewhere deep inside–that’s when art meets craft.