John D. MacDonald was an American author who wrote many excellent novels and short stories. If you don’t know who he is, consider looking him up. Stephen King (who I truly hope you know) considers MacDonald a master of the writing craft. MacDonald is perhaps best known for his crime and suspense novels, and his honest knight-errant character, private investigator Travis McGee.
Asked to write an introduction to Stephen King’s collection of short stories, ‘Night Shift’, MacDonald wrote one of the most concise and enlightening essays I’ve ever read about the practice of writing.
MacDonald wrote, “I am often given the big smiling handshake at parties (which I avoid attending whenever possible) by someone who then, with an air of gleeful conspiracy, will say,
“You know, I’ve always wanted to write.”
I used to try to be polite.
These days I reply with the same jubilant excitement: “You know, I’ve always wanted to be a brain surgeon.”
They look puzzled. It doesn’t matter. There are a lot of puzzled people wandering around lately.
If you want to write, you write.
The only way to learn to write is by writing. And that would not be a useful approach to brain surgery.”
On the subject of writing, MacDonald continued, “Because that is the way it is done. Because there is no other way to do it. Not one other way.
Compulsive diligence is almost enough. But not quite. You have to have a taste for words. Gluttony. You have to want to roll in them. You have to read millions of them written by other people.
You read everything with grinding envy or a weary contempt.
You save the most contempt for the people who conceal ineptitude with long words, Germanic sentence structure, obtrusive symbols, and no sense of story, pace, or character.
Then you have to start knowing yourself so well that you begin to know other people. A piece of us is in every person we can ever meet.
Okay, then. Stupendous diligence, plus word-love, plus empathy, and out of that can come, painfully, some objectivity.
Never total objectivity.”
Both the essay by MacDonald, and the collection of short stories by Stephen King are well worth a read. But what I want to revisit is what MacDonald covers in the first few lines of his essay.
If you’re here, if you’ve found us, you want to write. Many people want to write. A few take the time to scribble down their thoughts in a notebook, or open a file on their computer for scraps of ideas. Some save articles from the internet-something that peaked their attention, something that made them think, “This. This would make a great start for a story.”
You’re a writer. You know how it goes. You get the spark. But then….nothing. Or, then…a few lines. A few chapters. A sense that the writing on the page somehow doesn’t measure up to the idea you had in mind.
What MacDonald says is absolutely true. If you want to write, you write. But he also speaks to the importance of practice, of “compulsive diligence” and “stupendous diligence”. Diligence, defined as: careful and persistent work or effort.
The practice of writing takes time, work and effort. Perhaps the “easiest” part (like squeezing blood from a stone, yes?) is getting started. So, pick a prompt. Write. Submit. Or burn it. But write, and keep writing, until you find what you’re looking for.
Today’s Prompt: The girl in 329.
Further Inspiration: Stephen King wrote ‘Carrie’ on a makeshift desk between a washer and a dryer. If you want to write, you write. Anywhere.
southcountywriters 