Ten Fiction Writing Rules and Why They’re Wrong

Having read and taken part in many a discussion on fiction writing, I’ve heard an awful lot of “rules.” While I love factoids, a lot of the advice floating around out there bears such little resemblance to my own experience, I worry it’s being purposefully sown to handicap the competition.

Then again, as I’ve proven time and again, I can be wrong, so I present the following list in the spirit of the man who helped give us quantum mechanics and forever made the world uncertain, Niels Borh, who said, “the opposite of a great truth is also true.”

1. There are no rules!

We don’t need no stinking badges! Writers are magic! We pull universes out of our butts! We make you laugh, make you cry! Then again, we can also make you yawn and wish you were playing a video game instead… No rules? Nonsense. Rules are legion. Here’s one: use words. Then there’s that whole grammar thing. And don’t get me started on character or story structure.

Sadly, this one, like many writing rules, abandons craft advice in favor of giddy motivational statements. You need motivation, don’t write. To quote Khan Noonien Singh from Space Seed, “Do it because it is what you want to do.”

2. Write what you love!

Having written many things I love, I can assure you there’s nothing more satisfying than unshackled submission to the muse. Having been published with great abandon, I can also assure you that writing what you love does *not* guarantee either aesthetic or financial success.

There are reasons to write what you love, but good writing or decent pay aren’t of necessity among them. For financial success, write what other people love. For aesthetic success, develop great taste and then write what you love.

Is there overlap? Sure. But when you hear “write what you love and success will follow” from a wildly successful writer, be wary of backward reasoning. While the lucky few may happen to adore the same things the masses do, if this were a “rule” there’d be many more Stephen Kings.

3. Write what you know!

Sure it’s easier, but as John Lennon said, “There’s nothing you can know that isn’t known.” The whole point of having an imagination is that it takes you to new places. Sticking to the known isn’t exactly a surefire way to develop a unique voice.

A second quote, from Woody Allen: “Is sex dirty? Only if you do it right.” Likewise, if you’re not learning something while you’re writing, you’re not doing it right.

4. Books on writing won’t help you!

Many old guard pop writers got their start long before “learning how to write” became the industry it is today – and they did it by the seat of their pants. They never had to read a book on the subject to learn to write, why should you? And we had to walk fifteen miles just to get to the outhouse!

There are good books on writing, there are bad books. A slavish adherence to either will doubtless hurt your writing. That said, even the worst, most poorly written, tome on writing is terribly useful if it gets you thinking about why it sucks. Engaging that process, reflecting on fiction, always helps.

5. True writing can’t be taught!

Related to #4 and that by-your-bootstraps thing, this one deserves its own numeral partly because I needed it to make ten, and partly because I give it a maybe. Some people just have a knack for things. However, that doesn’t mean those with a knack go on to become writers and those who don’t can’t.

It’s like schizophrenia. Some are born schiz, some go schiz, some can be driven to it. Likewise, give a million people piano lessons and everyone will get better. Some will excel, some will be at the bottom of the class, most will be in the middle.

Besides, if “true” writing can’t be taught, neither can “true” plumbing or anything else. Maybe the people who say this are crappy teachers?

6. Self-publishing is a waste of time and money!

Not only is this not true, with the rise of e-reads, the opposite may soon be the case – working with a publisher will be the waste (except of course for *my* wonderful publishers, who are perfect in every way). Time was when when successful self-publishing efforts were the exception, but they’re on the rise. I mean, do we really need record labels anymore?

Some argue that publishers are “gate-keepers” preventing a lot of trash from gumming up your buying choices. One has only to point to the wealth of badly written books published (some financially successful!) to disprove that. The true gate-keepers, the only gate-keepers, have been and always will be the reading public.

Two caveats: I’d *never* say that working with a good editor, good book designer or good PR person is a waste. I also wouldn’t recommend self-publishing for a beginner any more than I’d recommend flying solo the first time you’re at the controls of an airplane. Odds are you’ll hurt yourself.

7. Everyone thinks they’re a writer, but that’s not true!

It is true. Everyone is a writer. Look at the blogosphere for heaven’s sake. The human being is wired to think in story. It’s what we do. Whenever we share something from our day with friends or loved ones, we’re story telling. Whether we realize it or not, we all know narrative intimately. It’s how we define our world and ourselves.

While that doesn’t make everyone a good writer, the same can be said of some who earn a very good living at it. I mean, is it really so hard to name a financially successful book, movie or TV show that you think is absolutely dreadful? I won’t name names.

8. “…if you [write] with enough assurance and confidence, you’re allowed to do whatever you like.” – Neil Gaiman

I hate to single out Neil, since this appears in various guises. He’s a brilliant scribe and, by all accounts, a helluva guy, but this is his most important rule.

Maybe Mr. G., Stephen King and JK Rowling do whatever they like, but a rule? Really? Yeah, sure, if you don’t mind not getting published or paid. Otherwise, anytime you take something from your head and bring it into the world, it’s going to get dirt on it. Nature of the beast.

A once-famous example to the contrary, which, if memory serves, Neil Gaiman actively protested, was Rick Veitch’s effort to have Swamp Thing meet Jesus. Veitch did it with assurance and confidence, and it didn’t happen.

Think limits are only imposed in comics or with licensed characters? Ha! While *my* publishers and editors are flawless, I know dozens of experienced writers furious about deletions and changes their eds or pubs insisted on. If it happens often enough, some decide to stop writing.

It’s life, and not necessarily bad news. Whatever your status, if you want to continue improving, you really shouldn’t be allowed to do whatever you like. Key word: whatever. Having something to push against is absolutely essential.

I sometimes think editors, fearful of big names, hesitate to make changes in their books that they wouldn’t think twice about imposing on a lower rank scribe. JK Rowling’s later Potter books, for instance, could’ve used judicious trimming. Some Stephen King books read like no one even proofed them.

9. Don’t take reviews seriously!

Bad reviews smart. They can even stop you from writing. Is that a shame? Not if you go on to lead a happy life as a brilliant surgeon, musician or shepherd. And, dude, if twenty people take the time to write that your book is unoriginal and too freaking long, you might want to consider the possibility that they’re on to something.

Not to say that the world isn’t rife with pointless, ignorant reviews. Keep in mind, though, in terms of improving your craft, a review that simply says, “This is fantastic! Best Book I ever read!” is just as useless as one that says, “This sucks! Worst book I ever read!” Except of course for a blurb.

If you’re the sort who can’t take criticism, there are two choices; never show your work to anyone, or; learn how to deal with criticism.

One rule that is true; never respond to a bad review. I only do it to correct a misstatement of fact, or if directly asked. Even then I go out of my way to respect the reviewer’s opinion. I have run into several writers and artists who’ve angrily responded to bad reviews. It’s the writer who ends up looking like an idiot.

It’s tough, but you have to remember that if you’re going to show your work in public, not to a teacher, a class, or Mom and Dad, people are entitled to dislike it. They’re entitled to dislike it stupidly, they’re entitled to dislike it brilliantly. Too. Damn. Bad. If you’re smart, and the reviewer is a good one, you can learn something.

10. Listen to the rules of the greats!

Studying great writing is essential, but not the same as asking an author how they did it. While their advice can be good, it can also be like asking a caterpillar how he walks with all those feet. The poor thing may wind up in a ditch unable to move.

As examples, and so I don’t feel like I’m picking on Neil Gaiman, you can read a bunch of tips from well-known writers here. Many are motivational (Roddy Doyle: “Regard every new page as a small triumph.”), others coy commentary (Margaret Atwood: “Prayer might work.”), and some so obvious you feel stupid just looking at them (Elmore Leonard: “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.”)

It’s not that great writers don’t know what they’ve done, but they’ve already done it in the form they’re best at – their work.

And that makes ten. Coming back round to the notion of great truths, I’ll conclude with a final contradiction: Though all the rules above are totally wrong, they’re also completely correct, and those who make them as valiant as the blind men attempting to describe an elephant.

Writing is magic, make no mistake, but it’s the people who try to figure out how it works who become the magicians. Pax.