On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
by Stephen King
2000
291 pages
ISBN: 978-1-4391-5681-0
I had read most of this book before, at an earlier time when I was thinking about writing in kind of an abstract and distant sort of way, but coming back from last weekend's trip to the AMSA Writer's Institute, I decided that perhaps I should pick it up again. I remembered it containing some good stuff, so it seemed like not a terrible place to revisit.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I like Stephen King. I am not saying that everything that the man has ever written is brilliant (and what's clear in this book is that neither is he), but he can tell a darn good story. Perhaps interesting, (and perhaps not) is that I like him best at the extremes: his short fiction and The Dark Tower. Either way, if you feel the need to quarrel about the idea that the man has talent, I suppose we can, but that's not the point here. The point is that I think that he has enough talent to be willing to get some tips, and I find him charming enough to have actually enjoyed reading them.
This is a good book. Not for everyone to be sure, but good. He makes excellent points about the process of writing that I'm sure have helped more than a few other writers get their work off the ground, but he is also honest about the limitations of what you can get from a book. He can't make you good if you are bad (and neither can anything else), he can't give you the ideas or really tell you where they come from, and it's going to be a lot of work.
But I am fine with all of that. At a moment like this, in my life, On Writing carries with it some reminders that I needed. About the work part, and the time part, and the drafting freely first and then editing part, and the admitting that I am writing, at least in part, to Andrew, so I should let him read things some of the time.
A lot of what's here is only going to be valuable to writer's of fiction (and readers as well.) King is interesting in his approach to character development and plot. He says he doesn't plan the plot beforehand, and is sometimes surprised by what his characters do. I suppose there's nothing to do but believe him, since I am almost always surprised by what his characters do. Still, some of the ideas, especially about drafting and editing ("2nd Draft = 1st Draft -10%") will likely work across genres, and I think that his analogy of the toolbox is universal.
And his notes on commitment, on the process, on the worthwhile effort, and the joy it brings, it's enough to remind you all over again why you might want to.
Two observations, neither really about writing that I especially liked:
On purgatory, I couldn't agree more:
"If I have to spend time in purgatory before going on to one place or another, I guess I'll be all right as long as they have a lending library (if there is, it's probably stocked with nothing by novels by Danielle Steel and Chicken Soup books...)" p. 104
On really smart people, I see it all the damn time:
"No one can be as intellectually slothful as a really smart person." p. 143
But really, it is the writing about writing that shines here. The notes on the process, on the parts of his life that contributed to becoming a writer, on taking rejection with your head held high, and on really really working at it make this a worthwhile read for those of us that want to write.
"you can, you should, and if you're brave enough to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up." p. 270
And so should you fellow writers. So should you.
