TERRIBLEMINDS: Chuck Wendig, Freelance Penmonkey

That Writer Don’t Read Fictions

This post might get a little rambly. Just pretend you’re talking to that really old uncle who has senile dementia, and he smells a little like turned cheese; hold your nose, and wait for him to get to the point.

I write fiction, and I don’t read much of it, anymore.

This goes against some advice you’ll see. If you write fiction, you’d better read fiction.

This is true, maybe, to a point. But I’m not sure how dogmatic you need to be about it.

Now, let’s flash back a ways. I am a writer very much because of Robert McCammon. His work convinced me that it’s what I wanted to do for my life’s work. I followed his journey as a mid-list horror writer to a bestselling horror writer to a guy who was trying not to write only horror anymore, to a depressed author who couldn’t stand that the market couldn’t apparently abide him doing what he loved, to a reformed and resurgent storyteller of fascinating historical mysteries.

I consumed every interview I could about McCammon (and when the day comes that I can meet the guy and thank him in person, I will have found a kind of transcendental moment). In one of those interviews, they asked him “who he was reading right now” (which is probably like, “who are you wearing right now?” except for writers instead of red carpet walking actresses), and McCammon said that he didn’t read much fiction anymore. Instead, he read a lot of books about history as well as a handful of other non-fiction books.

At the time, I was a bit floored. Wait, what? The fiction writer doesn’t read fiction? Pfeh! How does he keep his pen-blade sharp? How does he know what his peers are doing? Isn’t he committed to upping his game?

Fast-forward many-a-year, and here I am. I write fiction, and I don’t read much fiction.

And I now get it.

Here’s what I think is maybe the case — when you’re starting out, you need to study what’s come before. You need to see the styles of other writers. How they do things. How they arrange ideas, language, characters, plot threads. You maybe ape one writer’s style (me, it was McCammon). Then, you maybe pull in the styles of other writers (for me, Lansdale, King, Joyce, DeLillo, Moore). Then, somewhere out of that crazy mish-mash, you find Your Voice crying out from under the pile of Other Voices, because you’ve probably almost smothered the dear thing.

At that point, it’s not that you don’t have more to learn, but you’re at a stage where you can’t really keep treading water.

Let’s say you want to write a novel about the CIA. You’re comfortable enough with your own voice and ability. You move forward.

Do you read a bunch of novels about the CIA? Maybe. But probably not. What you do instead is, you read a bunch of non-fiction books about the agency. You do research. You read two, three, ten books. You read articles. If you’re really intrepid, you do some interviews (I am so not at that stage yet, but I’d like to be).

Okay, maybe you’re saying, “But Chuck, shouldn’t you read the current market? Shouldn’t you know what’s trending? What ground has been covered before? Don’t you want to be original?”

Yes, maybe, and that’s reason to maybe read a novel or three. But. But!

Listen, if you will, to what novelist Ari Marmell (once a White Wolf freelancer like li’l ol’ me) said about originality on Facebook, recently:

“‘Originality’ in fiction is overrated. I’m not saying it’s not valuable, necessarily, but good writing, interesting characters, and entertaining plots are all of FAR greater importance. Originality that grows organically via the above is a good thing. But when originality is the GOAL, and comes at the expense of the above, it’s a detriment.”

Dude. Yes. Applause.

You have your own way of saying things, your own way of doing things. You have Your Voice, so use it. Don’t worry about what other people are doing. You can’t. Because you can’t know what a thousand other unpublished books are doing. Trends move too fast for you to write a novel that embraces them. Write what you want, write it well, and don’t obsess over what others in your genre are doing.

I’m not saying, “Stop reading fiction.” I do still read it, but at a far reduced rate from what I once did — I maybe read 10% of the fiction I used to. It’s not that I don’t enjoy it. I do. But time is scarce, and I enjoy non-fiction equally (non-fiction tells a story, too — and is useful, to boot, what with all that silly “knowledge” contained within), and I also find that my vision isn’t muddied when I keep it largely clear of other people’s fictive endeavors. If I only read horror novels, how is my brain growing? All I’m doing is filling it up with other people’s ideas and characters. I can’t synthesize anything of my own; it’s all Other People’s IP swimming around upstairs.

The nice thing about this is, I don’t read other novels because I feel I have to. I once had that mindset. “I want to write a fantasy novel, so I’d better read some fantasy.” When I read fiction at this point, it’s purely out of pleasure and the desire to do so. There’s a new Lansdale and a new McCammon coming up — what, you think I won’t read those? I’m hungry for ‘em. You know your mother? The woman from whose womb you wriggled? I’d kill her to have a copy of those books early. Seriously. Don’t test the Wendig or your mother will eat the dirt pipe.

I don’t have any great conclusion here — I’ve been pondering on this point for a while, and Eddy Webb inadvertently pushed me to put this up with his new poll asking how many RPG designers have a game collection they don’t use for playing, that they use only for reading and research. I just continue to look at my shelves and the stack of books on my bedside table, and I notice how fiction is less and less a part of that. I’d expect to feel weird about it, but I don’t. I’m comfortable with it. I actually think it’s giving me a clearer directive. Your mileage may vary, of course.

…

Oh, one last plug for now: my short story, “Product Placement” is alive at Jet Pack. Go there. Read it. Even though I just told you to read less fiction; that doesn’t include the stuff I write, of course. Sheesh.

Posted in: The Ramble

Tags: Advice You Should Probably Ignore, Chuck Under Microscope, Stuff About Writing

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 16th, 2009 at 11:48 AM and is filed under The Ramble. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.