Writing about Writing about Writing.

“Those who can’t do, teach. Those who can’t teach, do gym.

Those who can’t do either, create the laws that govern education.”

Literary legislatures dot the “writers about writing” landscape: authors who write to keep their names current or advertise some course or convention by offering instruction on writing to others yet to be published. All of it is based on the assumption that if an individual can write and get at least one book published, they must know something and can teach about writing: Maybe so, although there is much literary evidence to the contrary. As a teacher and a writer I can assure you the two do not readily go hand in hand.

With the advent of the Internet and blogging, a whole subgenre of “writing about writing” as a vocation has evolved. Seriously, who wakes up one day and says to themselves; “I just got my first book published, now I want to maintain a website and write endless articles on writing.”? That’s probably not how it unfolds. It is more likely that once their names gained recognition, they went for the low hanging fruit – being devoid of any current project that they were passionate about. They went for a more accessible target than the general public: other writers. They prey on their own.

Now, it’s not that aspiring authors don’t need direction, they just need it from the right sources. That brings us to the doorstep of the question, “Is bad instruction better than no instruction at all?” I would say “yes.” No longer a blank slate, the victim now has much to “unlearn” before they can get it right. Aspiring writers should read books on writing – and continue to do so even after they are on the right track – but the books should be carefully selected. Titles such as “Five Reasons You Aren’t Being Published” (Great, more reasons why I am a failure) or “Breathe Life Into Your Characters” (Vague advice that produces enthusiastic, boring characters) should be avoided for obvious reasons. Currently, I am reading “Plot Engineering” by Larry Brooks. I recommend it to anyone who is interested in story telling at something approaching a professional level. But I digress. What about those who write about writing?

I have a friend who is a professional artist. He does public sculpture, but his story brilliantly illustrates my (eventual) point. In order to make a living at being an artist, he had to be ruthless. He did the things he loved, but no one bought. So he recreated himself – he found a new thing he loved, but one he thought marketable. Better, but his professors threatened to wash him out of his graduate program. So he recreated himself – again finding something new he loved, but more unique. This time, the powers that be smiled down from on high and all was right with the world…until he tried to sell his work to totally unsympathetic and unartistic city officials. Long story somewhat shorter: every time he sells a work of art, it has to be different, creative and within certain parameters “new.” He has to do a custom design and sales pitch – throwing more balls than strikes. Yet he is ever forced onward and upward; learning, refining, and ultimately succeeding on higher and higher plains. The result: Chris Fennell is known as a niche artist (sculpture from recycled objects) and his public sculptures are scattered across the country.

So back to our “writers about writing.” All have at least some talent and skill – just not necessarily in education. I wonder, if the legion of literary side seat drivers didn’t have that outlet of writing about writing, where would their efforts go? Without this safety valve, what would they accomplish? How would they satisfy their Muse? Would they surrender to the mundane and meekly shuffle back to being store clerks or soccer moms? Or would they push themselves; dig deeper, blaze new frontiers by keeping their shoulder to the sisyphystic labor that is writing? Fewer “writers about writing” might be a good thing. Except for the ones who are drawn to teaching, maybe they would be better off devoting all their efforts on the next great American novel instead of being distracted by dabbling in education.