Kate Flora: As we enter another writing year, and may be making New Year’s 
resolutions which include finally writing that book you’ve always dreamed of writing, I am here to help you along on your journey, by sharing pieces of advice I’ve gotten over the years which have proved singularly unhelpful. I share them as a warning against the world of writing advice with this caveat: Some of them may work for you.
- If something you’ve written in your work-in-progress makes you cry when you
reread it, excise it, cut it, leave it out. This is something I totally disagree with. I have some bits in books I’ve written over the years that still make me cry when I reread them. It just may be that there’s nothing wrong with powerful emotion in our books. If you have a section you’re worried about because someone has given you the advice above, try it out on a few beta readers and see if they think it should be cut. - If you don’t know how to write, it’s necessary to take several writing classes and read lots of writing books. I think here the answer is: not quite. I love teaching, and yes, it helps to learn some craft and spend time in classes where you can get feedback from instructors and other students. But there is a downside–the risk that you will fill your head so full of advice about what the rules are (rules that often vary from one instructor to another) that you lose any ability to be spontaneous. There’s also the risk that you won’t be discovering yourself as writer. You won’t be developing a practice to get your writing done. You may be so wedded to prompts and assignments that you aren’t listening to your own imagination, exploring your own individual creativity, or learning what parts of the writing craft actually enchant you.
- Don’t write a word until you’ve written an outline. Not necessarily. If you’re a
person who can’t tackle a project without an outline or some signposts to guide you along the way, then yes, do an outline. It doesn’t have to be the kind we learned in 6th grade. But may writers aren’t plotters but pantsers, and love the excitement of discovery that comes with waiting to find out what happens next. See advice in 2, above. You have to actually write for a while to discover what kind of a writer you are. - You should pick a writer whose style you admire, and learn to initiate that. See my comments above. Learning to distinguish the elements of particular styles can give you tools in your writer’s tool box to choose from, but slavish imitation, sometimes unaware imitation, will come between you and the writer you’re meant to be.
- Don’t worry if you don’t have an idea today, write only when the spirit moves
you, the muse appears, you’re inspired by a great idea. Nope. Despite the fact that we’re surrounded by those people who say, “I always wanted to write, but I tried it once and it was hard,” the truth is that writing is hard, but writers go to their desks and write on the days when their heads ache, when they’d rather rub themselves with sandpaper, when it seems like everything they write is gravel. Writing is a job–often a great job, but still a job, and so we go to work. This means you will be there, at your desk, fingers curled over the keys, at the magic moment when the fluttery little muse deigns to visit and whisper words in your ear. When you suddenly get into a flow so exhilarating you can hardly catch your breath. But we earn those moments by spending time with gravel. - Read all the bestsellers in the genre you plan to write in, and then write a book like that. It’s sure to sell. Alas, although it’s true that agents and editors always think they want a book just like the last bestseller, only different, by the time you’ve spent a year writing that book, there will be a new new thing and your book will be yesterday’s news. You’re much better off writing the story that enchants you, that matters to you, that you can immerse yourself in. There’s no guarantee you’ll sell that one, either, but at least the journey will have been a good one.
I could go one and on, but that’s enough for today. Don’t be discouraged. Writing is hard, sometimes brutally hard. It’s also magical, and so addictive that even when the books don’t sell, or don’t sell well, we don’t give up. And my one piece of advice, learned the hard way through ten years in the unpublished writer’s corner: Be stubborn. Be your own best cheerleader. While it’s true that rarely will someone knock on your door and demand the chance to publish your novel, only you get to decide that you’re a writer.
Kait Carson
Charlene D’Avanzo 
Great advice
I agree completely. Writers learn to write by (wait for it!) WRITING!
Wonderful advice. This is one of the posts I will print and keep for future encouragement.
Always here to give advice to one of my favorite people, Charlene.
The best thing about classes is not what you learn but the people you meet, who, if you’re lucky, will support you along your journey. But other than that, I agree with Kathy/Kaitlyn. You learn by doing. And doing. And doing.
And it is so true that often our classmates become our writers’ group, sounding boards, and best supportive friends.
Kate
Excellent advice!
You said it!
I have a shelf full of writing how to books. I sometimes think I just want to read books on how to write.
Personally, I hate outlines. I like what happens next to be a surprise. However, my latest attempt requires that I have a timeline so I know who knows what when. It’s driving me nuts, trying to lay that out.
My writing group has gotten used to me handing off my work for someone else to read out loud because I always cry when there is a deep emotional point in the story. If I cut that all out all I have is a murder and a missing kid. And everyone wondering why should we care?
Thanks for your helpful advice!
I also have a shelf of writing books. Sometimes they don’t make any sense until I’ve been writing for a number of years. When I started out, John Gardner’s The Art of Fiction told me that I wasn’t a writer. A few years on, I was more confident and could glean wisdom from it. I think it’s important for beginning writers to know that if the book doesn’t speak to you, that’s okay.
As for timelines, it is one of the critiques I wrote most often in a manuscript I’m reviewing: make a timeline. I have no problem, though, with making that timeline from the draft manuscript so I can go back and fix it. You can sometimes solve the timeline problem by a conversation with yourself, as in: Bill killed in the local forest at 11:00 p.m. on Thursday. Where was x at 11? y at 11? z at 11? and so forth. Having a conversation can make things so much less daunting.
Kate
Excellent advice, Kate—agree with all of them!
Thanks, Marni.
Words that needed saying. It’s possible to become so obsessed with rules to the point of of paralysis.
I’ve seen it too often.
Heh, outlines . . . not all brains work that way. When a teacher required an outline for a paper, I’d write the paper ahead of the deadline for the outline, and then use the paper to write the outline.
Excellent advice, Kate. I’m sharing this with all the writers I know.
Yep, you hit the nail on the head–though it does help if a person understands grammar. I’ve worked with many new writers that I suspect didn’t read much–reading does make a difference.
This is a fantastic blog and I agree with most of everything you say. I’ve had so much bad writing advice that it would make a nice book in itself. I think all the rules about how to write can totally destroy a writer’s true voice.
These are really helpful. Thanks for sharing it. Please give mt blog a read too.