There seem to be a lot of posts containing advice for writers in my RSS reader at the moment, so I thought it would be nice to share them with everyone. Let’s see …

First up we have Jeff Vandermeer reposting the start of his “Evil Monkey Guide to Creative Writing” at his recently-relocated blog.

My Futurismic co-blogger and rising science fiction novelist Tobias Buckell has links to some extensive notes on plotting that were taken at the Taos Toolbox writer’s workshop.

Finally, Jetse de Vries is e-submissions fiction editor for Interzone, but he’s a writer in his own right, too. He shares with us the lessons he’s learned from reading the slush pile, and discusses the value of “trunking” stories that you just can’t seem to sell.

[Cross-posted to Futurismic]

For my money, the sign of a really good writer is that they can write about absolutely anything, yet still retain a clarity and poetry of voice - not to mention keeping you entertained enough to read on.

Which is why I was incredibly impressed by this high-precision rant from Erik Davis (who wrote a popular science book that I’d recommend to anyone, Techgnosis), in which he bemoans windchimes:

“I love wind, the gusts that make moaning music from the pines in the mountains, or the zephyrs that blow in from the Pacific over my toy city, thrusting fog and briny mists eastward towards the bay, and tunneling up my street on their climb toward Twin Peaks. I am also down with the music of metal, the resilient blast of archangelic trumps and gluttonous tubas, not to mention the shimmering arpeggios of vibes and hammered dulcimers and the clarion call of the carillon. And I am fascinated by randomness and chance, from I Ching coin tosses to the Situationist derive to the music or paramusic of John Cage. And I love, very much, every single song that Brian Wilson wrote for Smile. All this is true, and yet the fact remains:

I f*cking hate wind chimes.”

Seriously, go read the whole thing. That, to me, is great writing. If I’m wrong, then may I never become a successful writer. Selah.

The one golden rule of writing that brooks no breach is, of course, that a writer must write. Every day, without fail.

If you fall down at this first fundamental hurdle (and I do, all the time), knowing the layout of the obstacles beyond is worthless. Personally, I’m hugely intimidated by the blank page. Not so much with non-fiction, I might add, but that merely underlines the overall point - I write non-fiction every day, and it really makes a difference to your abilities after a little while.

Jim van Pelt reiterates this crucial truism:

“For most of the writers I hang around with, this isn’t a problem.  They are so attuned to their own story-making apparatus that they have more than a lifetime of ideas to write already.  But not everyone is that way.  For some they have to work at getting ideas, or they have to have some way to prime the writing pump to get words flowing.  For them, writing exercises are a godsend.”

Indeed they are - and that’s the main reason I miss going to the poetry workshop I used to attend, because the regular exercises used to get my brain (and pen) on the move. Van Pelt also links to this online random writing prompt generator, which looks like it could be a very useful tool for me.

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Another oft-quoted writing rule is show, don’t tell - and that’s an important one, too, especially in poetry.

However, there are times when the reverse is true. It’s vital to keep your story lean and cruft-free, and E. E. Knight has some suggestions on how telling rather than showing can be the course of greater wisdom in certain situations:

“Most of your telling-not-showing is going to happen at the beginning or end of chapters or scenes. It’s routine business keeping, letting the reader know that time has passed and location has shifted (if it has).”

As usual, he’s included examples and quotations - which are invaluable, as it helps to see the effect of a technique rather than simply being advised to use it.

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The common ground of those two posts is the fact that one only ever learns something by doing it, not just knowing it. John O’Neil, editor of Black Gate magazine, shares a list of points he has written out for himself, to remind him to put knowledge into practice. The last entry sums up the whole thing:

“10. You tend to think that once you understand something that you’ve learned it. By this time you should know better. Continue to refer to this list, because if you’d really learned all this stuff you wouldn’t have had to write this list in the first place.”

Zing!

So, lots more sound advice for fictioneers. Though I will, of course, have to put more effort into crossing that first hurdle before the later ones will become of any real use to me!