Wallace Stegner and the reality of publishing serious literature

I’m continuing my reading of Wallace Stegner’s book on writing. One of the most poignant pieces is an essay entitled “To a Young Writer.” I’m unsure of the date of the piece, but Stegner died in 1993 so it’s at least nearly 20 years old.

The young writer in question is a woman, and gifted at the craft. He makes it very clear to her that her chance of earning a living, gaining fame, and being successful in any traditional way through her writing are minimal even though her work is brilliant and sensitive and powerful. It will not speak to the masses, he says.

Should she write anyway, he asks? Perhaps. But only perhaps. Will she write and publish if she marries and has children? Probably not, for the kind of thoughtful writing she does takes everything from a person. But if she is called to do it, she must do it.

There are many readers out there who treasure the beautiful, the sensitive, the meaningful. But as every aspect of American culture becomes “busnified” (in my years as a college professor, I watched the transformation of higher education from an education model to a business model, where students were clients and the customer was always right), so too is publishing less and less about talent and beautiful writing and more and more about the bucks to be made.

Is it still worth writing great literature? Of course, but it is not worth pinning your life or your livelihood on. That is what Stegner is saying, I think, and it is worth considering.

Advice from Wallace Stegner

Wallace Stegner was a wonderful novelist of the West. I loved Angle of Repose, The Spector Bird, and Crossing to Safety. My borther-in-law David, who is also a Stegner fan, gave me a little book for my birthday by Stegner: On Teaching and Writing Fiction. It seemed appropriate to bring it along on this writing retreat and I've been reading in it all week. Below is Stegner's advice on technique:

1. Start in the middle of things; begin in motion.

2. Stay in motion by not letting the summary intrude; keep the summary feeding into the scene in hints and dribblets, by what Ibsen called the "uncovering" technique.

3. Never explain too much; a reader is offended if he cannot participate and use his mind and imagination, and a story loses much of its suspense the moment everything is explained.

4. Stay out of your story; pick a point of view and (especially in the short story) stay with it. Nobody has less right in your story than yourself.

5. Don't show off in your style. The writing should match the characters and the situation, not you. This applies as well to obscenity and profanity as to other matters. Where character and situation call for them, they belong; elsewhere they may be a sign that the author is trying to catch someone's attention.

6. Nothing is to be gained, except a breaking of the dramatic illusion, by attempts to find substitutes for the word "said" in dialog tags. "Said" is a colorless word that disappears; elegant variations show up.

7. Stopping a story is as hard as saying good night. Learn to do it cleanly, without leftovers or repetitions.

Writing for the joy of it

I'm taking a creativity coaching class from Eric Maisel, and Eric stresses helping all creative clients move towards the marketplace. I really value Eric's wisdom and experience in working with artists and writers, but this is one place where I sometimes disagree, especially for writers.

If you're smart in today's literary market, you're writing a novel about zombies or vampires, futuristic disasters or sci fi, romance or mystery. That's what's selling--escapist fiction--and if you're a new author, you have a chance. If you're smart, you're not writing serious, literary fiction, which is very hard to sell, especially for new authors. But that's like not designing evening wear if that's your passion but instead designing fleece hoodies for the mass market.

I still believe in writing for the joy of it. In writing for the intrigue of your story, for the love of words and characters, for the message about life and living that you want to convey. I believe we need to write the stories that we have to tell and share them with the world and maybe that world is your writers group, or your family, or your close friends. Or you put it in a pdf up on Kindle and see who might bite. To tailor our work specifically to the marketplace seems somehow out of integrity with what we have to express.

Second, if you're writing a novel or a book of nonfiction, you must love the process, the learning, the honing, the editing, the rewriting, the sheer process of the craft. If you don't, you're in for a lot of tedium. Writing a book takes most of us several years at least. That's a lot of your free time to spend doing something that you don't enjoy for a fleeting possibility of fame in a fickle marketplace. As a college professor, I used to advise students to major in something they loved reading and studying instead of being ultimately driven by what might get them the highest-paying job. What if these are your last four years to live, by some circumstance, I'd ask. What do you want to spend it doing?

So if you're called to write, I encourage you to do it. Tell the stories that are yours to tell.

Marketing something you love, when you come to that point, will be that much easier than marketing something you did just to sell.

Day 3 Showing up to the page

Of all the things that writers and other creatives do, showing up is the most important. If you don't show up to your journal or your canvas or your computer, nothing will happen. And each time you do, you reconfirm to yourself that you are committed to the act of creating.

I've had trouble showing up to the page today. Yesterday when I was writing chaper 13, it all went really smoothly. I was in the flow, in the zone. The dialog came pouring out, the purpose of the chapter in the overall scheme of the book I knew in advance. Best yet, my characters sparked off each other and I could feel the tension I needed to write. So, of course, I expected more of that today, that I was on a roll.

So when it didn't start easily, I gave myself a bit of a break. I read a little Wallace Stegner on writing fiction. Nice thoughts, good ideas but he didn't hold the answer. I sat out in the main room with a couple of others who were reading, thinking that maybe I was just a little isolated, a little lonely. But the restlessness didn't pass and I came back into my room and sat down at the little fold-up table I'd brought with me and I got up and paced around my room and sat down and checked email and then went into the bathroom and straightened up all my toiletries so they were in perfect alignment and then I remembered my vitamins and I decided I needed more tea and I went out to the kitchen and everybody was hard at work and I felt, well, left out of the game somehow.

So I marched myself back in here, sat down with a piece of paper and did a list of scenes that might go in my book next and I realized Al had to confront Ellie about her scars and her silent past and so I just plunged in. It wasn't great, it may not even be good. But I got going finally. I showed up and stayed in the seat. Whew!

Day 2 Writing Retreat: Writer's block

When I arrived yesterday, it had been nearly 7 weeks since I'd worked on the current novel. That didn't mean I hadn't been writing. I write in my journal every morning. I'd written a couple of long papers for clients, and I'd been blogging every day on two blogs for a week. But the novel had sat neglected.

I'd like to be able to say that I've spent the last 7 weeks thinking about the plot and characters, writing in my head or solving problems or creating new angles, but that would be a lie. I haven't given it much thought. I get too busy when I first come back from a trip, then I get an odd kind of shyness about it. I make all sorts of excuses, the kinds of excuses and procrastinations that are as common among writers as air pollution in big cities. I can't work on it because I only have an hour; guess I'll check email instead. I can't work on it because I might get interrupted; guess I'll watch a documentary on Netflix. I can't work on it because I don't have a clear direction; guess I'll get something to eat. All kinds of other tasks take priority.

Well, I got here and there was plenty of time even on the first day. But did I get started? Of course not. I could have. We had a silent afternoon after lunch, but I read Kim Stafford's memoir of his dad and I took a long nap, and I played canasta, and I looked out the window, and I wrote my blogs. And, and, and.

As a long-time exerciser, I am well familiar with the opposing forces of momentum and inertia. I don't dare not exercise for more than 3 days at the most or inertia begins to wrap its wily arms around my limbs and I get leaden and just don't want to go the gym. By the fourth day, momentum has been replaced almost completely. It's as if the two exist on a spectrum and I've more than crossed the balance point and am on the slide to sloth.

The same thing happens in my writing life. I go away on retreat, start writing every day, make great progress. I get to spend most of the day every day for a week thinking the novel, planning the novel, writing in my head, living with the characters. A fine head of writing steam builds up and I am more than rolling, I am flying, it's going so well.

Then I head home, still full of the story and determined to live my creative life differently but no such luck. There's a full litter box and a big stack of mail and clients to see to and appointments to keep and friends to catch up with and marketing to do. And then 7 weeks have gone by and I feel shy again.

But after breakfast this morning, I opened the file, read the first 14 chapters I'd written, and made some tweaks. Sounds promising, right? Well, then I froze again. That's editing work. I can do that without a problem. But what about the new stuff that needed writing?

So I made myself plunge in. I decided to write a chapter that might not go in at all. That way there was no pressure. And in 4 hours, I'd written about 3 pages and I could see where I was going to go next. And maybe, just maybe I'll use some of that "extra" chapter.

Writing retreat--Day 1

This morning my friend Isabelle and I left Portland about 9:30 for the glories of Tillamook County and a writing retreat in Netarts, a tiny village to the west of Tillamook proper. Our friend Susan had found a house for us there, very affordable when six artists share the space for a week. It was a glorious morning to start out on an adventure, as we're having a false spring, not uncommon for Oregon in February.

I do writing retreats often. I like writing in the company of others who are also at work at the craft. There's a synergy, a hum of creativity that is very conducive to my own work. And we usually agree in an opening circle to keep silence through most or part of the day.

Over the years, the retreats I lead have evolved into a certain loose structure: breakfast whenever we want (sleeping our fill is one of the nicest retreat luxuries), silence then for folks to work or think or dream or walk or write. In our current group, we are five writers and one painter. Lunch too is on our own though one person each day is in charge of providing fixings, putting them out, and cleaning up after. Then there is silence all the long afternoon: more writing, more walking, more dreaming.

At the end of the day (sometimes afternoon, sometimes evening), there is a circle. It's slightly ritualized with a different object chosen each day as a talking "stick" be it a shell, personal momento, feather, talisman. We check in with each other as to the day's progress--most of the check-in is emotional rather than literary. How we felt about our work, how long it took the muse to show up, what the inner critic had to say. We celebrate pages written, ideas explored, fallow times of just reading and thinking. Then in a second round, people read what they've been working on for a few minutes. It's always okay to pass if you don't want to read.

After dinner, there is usually a certain amount of hilarity as we play canasta, scrabble, quiddler. Sometimes we do collage together or other art work. Not everyone wants to play. If the muse is still around, people will disappear back to their rooms for more writing but most of us are ready to be social after a long day alone and enmeshed in our work.

Each day is a bit like the one before although the stories being written evolve as do the friendships of those in such close creative communion. The writing intensifies when it is given such lavish attention and so do our creative spirits. I highly recommend it.

Getting started with writing personal stories

I got an email this morning from a woman wanting to know how to get started writing personal memoirs. She had met some people over her life who had had a big influence on her and she wanted to write their stories.

First, there are two possibilities here. One is writing the personal story of another. A recent editing client, Bill Bacon, sent me a wonderful manuscript about the amazing story of how his parents met and fell in love. He had filled the short volume with wonderful photos and was going to publish it himself. While he is a bit player in the story (he mentions how his mother told him some of the details), this is not Bill's memoir.

There are several things to do as you prepare to write a personal story. One is to interview any persons involved in the story, especially those with major roles to play or those who knew the person who is the subject of the story. Then you gather any written documents (letters, diaries, emails, publications if they created any) and you read those and take notes of pertinent information. You also gather photos if that is helpful to you or part of the finished work.

When you write a memoir, you tell your own story and include as characters those you have met or have influenced your life. The research can be similar to personal story research except that most of the written documentation is your own: your correspondence, your journals, your photos--anything that will help you remember.

It is always extremely helpful before you begin writing to immerse yourself in the genre by reading a variety of kinds of personal stories or memoirs. Both are very elastic forms of literature and you'll get good ideas by seeing what others have done. It's also helpful to be well-grounded in story-telling by reading lots of short stories and fiction so that you can handle dialog, description, and narration.

Like most non-fiction, memoirs and personal stories can be organized by chronology or theme, but in neither case, do you need to start at the beginning. I began my memoir, Sober Truths: The Making of an Honest Woman, by writing stories about significant events in my life in a rather random order and after I'd written about 60 of those, I began to piece them together with themes and chronology.

All that said, if your goal is much simpler, to write a story about a friend so you don't forget, then just go for it! Your friend will treasure whatever you have to say.