Seanan McGuire (seanan_mcguire) wrote,
Seanan McGuire
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Thoughts on Writing #40: Starting the Discussion.

It's time for the fortieth essay in my ongoing series about the art, craft, business, and mild insanity known as "writing." We're in the home stretch now; ten more essays and I'm done with the series. Kate and Amy are watching me like hawks to be sure I don't start something else insane. All the essays in this series are based around my original fifty thoughts on writing, which were written in no particular order. That explains a lot. Here's today's thought:

Thoughts on Writing #40: Starting the Discussion.

As always, context is our friend, and the thought needs to be expanded on. So here's today's expansion:

Talk to other writers about what works for them. Half the things on this list may be pure crap from your perspective; that's okay, because in order to decide that they were crap, you had to think about them. You have put thought into what kind of writer you want to be, and how you want to work. That's fantastic. Listen to everyone, and decide for yourself what you want to take to heart.

The thing about writing is that it's a weird combination of "learn by doing" and "learn by discussing." You have to understand certain things before they can be done; you have to do certain things before you'll understand why the way you're trying to do them is completely wrong. I learned to write a novel by writing a novel. I learned a lot of the things I needed to be watching for by discussing writing with other writers. But how do you filter the good from the bad? How do you justify rejecting advice from someone more successful than you are, or learn to take it from someone who seems to be less successful?

The lines are different for everyone, but let's talk about where to find them, and what they really mean. Ready? Good. Let's begin.

Salutations.

Writers, on the whole, love to talk about writing. We require very little prompting; actually, it can be hard to make us stop talking about writing. Our work is all-consuming, it's engaging, and it is, if you're us, the most interesting thing in the world. (Most of us are intellectually aware that our work actually isn't the most interesting thing in the world to people who aren't, well, us. This doesn't stop us from emotionally believing that you'll all discover how fascinating our struggles with the comma are if we just keep talking long enough. Forgive us. Imagine that every day, the people who live in our heads give us a brand new kitten, and we just want to tell you all about it. It's still annoying, but it may be a little more understandable that way.)

Mysteriously, despite our passion for talking about writing, half the time putting two writers into the same room will get you one of two results: they make two or three brief, cursory references to their mutual passion and then settle to talking about the most recent episode of The Big Bang Theory, or they start trying to out-lecture each other. This is not useful, strictly speaking, unless you're a serious fan of The Big Bang Theory (or enjoy watching your friends fight to the death).

There are a lot of reasons we do this sort of thing. We don't want to bore our friends who aren't writers, since two of us are doubtless worse than one. We don't want to discover that when you say we're both writers, you mean "Bob has published eighteen novels and Sally once wrote a poem about her cat." This winds up making Bob and Sally feel bad. We don't want to get into a fight over our respective genres, we don't want to start playing "compare the sale," we don't want to do a lot of things, especially in public, especially in front of the person who's just put the two of us into the same room. For all we know, you have a stick. Also, we'd like you to feed us.

Writers meeting "in the wild" are a lot more likely to start talking shop, although even then, it's a delicate dance. No one wants to have their dreams crushed when the person they're saying "I'm a writer" to responds with "I topped the best seller lists for six weeks, what have you done?" No one wants to do the crushing when they respond to "I finished a short story" with "I published a novel." (These are exaggerations, but not by all that much. I've seen these particular pit traps open wide, swallowing the just and the unjust alike.) Alcohol helps. Sugar also helps, and may help more, as hyperactive authors are less likely to fall asleep in the middle of a sentence.

In the end, random encounters are unlikely to yield immediately useful discussions, although they can lead to useful discussions later. (Jennifer and I, for example, met on a panel at a convention; the panel was about writing; after that, we became friends, and now we talk about writing endlessly, to the deep frustration of all our non-writer friends.) Writing is very personal, and it's also very professional, and figuring out how to combine the two into a delicious peanut butter cup instead of an explosive Coke and Mentos bomb is hard. Still, we appreciate the introductions.

Now, to the writers. When meeting another writer, ask them openly and sincerely about their work. Don't start with "what have you sold?" Asking about genre and age range is generally safer, if not completely guaranteed. Really, when it comes to opening the floodgates, you're on your own, except for this: remember that the person to whom you are speaking is a peer, and treat them with respect and sincerity. They are not a threat. They are not a chew toy. They are not succeeding to make you fail, or failing to help you succeed. Treat them like people. All the rest of this will go better if you do.

Conversation.

I don't need to tell you how to talk to people, because the odds are good that you already know. Instead, I tell you this:

No matter what genre you write, we have something in common. No matter what your subject matter or age range is, we have something in common. No matter whether you're just starting out or a million miles up ahead, we have something in common. We are both writers. That means we each have something to learn from the other. So let's learn.

Talk to each other. More importantly, listen to each other. Writers—myself absolutely included—tend to like the sound of our own voices, and it's a lot easier to talk than it is to listen (witness my lengthy essay series on ways to write). If you want to learn from the people around you, you need to listen, even and maybe especially when you think they're wrong. It does me no good to reject your wisdom if I don't know why I'm rejecting it. Only by hearing you out to the end can I construct a firm opinion, either positive or negative, about what you're saying to me. The same goes in reverse. Even if you think I'm insane, hear me out. (Unless you think I'm crazy about the "listening" thing. I can't help you if that's the case.)

Goodbyes.

Here's a secret it took me a long time to learn: I get to forget everything you teach me. In return, you get to forget everything I teach you. I recommend hanging onto things long enough to really think about them, maybe give them a little test drive, but after that? It's your call. The only filtration system between good and bad advice is your own experience, and it's going to be different for everyone.

We learn things every time we interact with other people. What we can learn from other writers is what it's like to be a writer, and that teaches us to be better versions of ourselves. It's the circle of life and literacy, and I suggest we all hop on board. Next stop: awesome!
Tags: advice, contemplation, writing
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  • 16 comments
Doesn't 50-40=10? How are there only *nine* more essays?

That said, this was as interesting as the rest. Which is to say, very.
Because sometimes math is hard and I want strawberry ice cream. Fixed!
My husband, as I may have had cause to mention, is a philosopher. This means I spend large amounts of my social/recreational time in the presence of people who, given the slightest provocation, will start arguing about the pros and cons of classical logic, the theory of hexaity, large cardinals and what mathematics might be like if Ramsay hadn't died in his twenties. I know more philosophers than I know writers. This means two things: one, when I do get to talk about writing, I'm either really hesitant, because I know what it's like to be lectured about something outside your immediate field of interest/comprehension, or overflowing with verbosity, because it's a relief, for once, to be the one doing the lecturing. So all of this makes a lot of sense to me.

For the record, though, I do enjoy the philosophy 90% of the time. It's like a form of intellectual Stockholm Syndrome :)
...dude, that's awesome. Intellectual Stockholm Syndrome is how I make my friends care about parasitism and the Black Death.
*Everyone* should care about parasitism and the Black Death.
I SO AGREE.
That's the thing about going to cons and generally meeting writers. They all do different things, even if they come up with something similar. And whether that works for you is highly unlikely, as I've never heard two methods that sounded relatively interchangeable. And I've heard a lot of advice, but the only thing in common is "write a lot, read a lot, maybe equal amounts," a la Michael Pollan.
Exactly!
I had to pause after the first paragraph to giggle lots. So very, very true! There's a reason why the writing stuff here on LJ is filtered, and that's because it bores the pants off 95% of my flist. ("I wrote X many words today! So-and-so just announced that by the way, the reason they did Y in Chapter 2 is so that they can do Z here in chapter 16 - I had no idea that was coming and it's so exciting! I love it when characters surprise me like this."...etc, etc...)

The rest...very true. I have friends who've sold short stories and friends who've sold novels, and I haven't sold anything (yet) - but somehow we mostly manage to get along :-)
People ask me why I talk about writing so much, and it's like, "in the pie chart of my life, it's sixty-five percent of me." So what do they want me to talk about?
Great post!

One of the things I love about LJ is how people of all levels of skill and experience are prepared to share what their thoughts about writing, without expecting everyone to agree or follow their advice.

Thanks for sharing :)
You're welcome!
A friend of mine, who is just starting to be "serious" abotu writing, had an awful experience when she joined an online writing group -- she was asked what she wrote, primarily, and she responded that she'd been trying to hone her skills via fan fic, but was ready to take the next step into original stories. The leader of the writing group told her, flat out, "Oh. So you're not an actual writer, then. You're just one of those fic people."

I told her to tell him to blow it out his ass--the leader didn't have a published credit to his name, mind you, but he still felt it was all right to condescend to her.

I don't give a damn what you write -- you're brave enough to put pen to paper, that's good enough for me and should be good enough for anyone, especially anyone who remembers what it was like to do that for the first time, or to show it to someone else for the first time, or to send it out to the world for the first time.

Fanfic is real writing. Jeez. That guy's a jerk.
Give us a new kitten? More like, are a whole new kitten! Kittenkittenkitten! Okay, some are puppies. ;)
Puppies are good, too!