250 Things You Should Know About Writing
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PRAISE FOR CONFESSIONS OF A FREELANCE PENMONKEY AND CHUCK WENDIG’S WRITING ADVICE
"Chuck Wendig has done what so many authors desperately need and will never admit: offered a phenomenal book about the real world of writing, and made it reachable and readable by anyone. His terribleminds blog guided me through good days and bad, provided advice and much-appreciated laughter throughout the whole, often painful, process. I'm thrilled to have his brain trapped in Confessions of a Freelance Penmonkey, and I'll be referring to the squishy gray-matter of his brilliance often.
If it weren't for Chuck Wendig's advice, I'd have fallen off the writing map long ago. This is the book you want stapled to your chest when you march into the battle of authorship! An absolute must-read for anyone even thinking of dabbling with words for a living.”
-- Karina Cooper, Author of Blood of the Wicked
"Chuck Wendig's Confessions of a Freelance Penmonkey is full of the kind of writing advice I wish I'd gotten in school. Practical, brutally honest, and done with the kind of humor that will make it stick in your brain. Whether you're a veteran writer or new to the craft, you'll find something useful in here.
Plus he says ‘fuck’ a lot, so, you know, there's that."
-- Stephen Blackmoore, author of City of the Lost
"In Confessions of a Freelance Penmonkey, Chuck Wendig hammers out writing and career advice that's always brave, profane, creative, clever, and honest. And don't forget hilarious. You'll never laugh so hard learning so much."
-- Matt Forbeck, game designer and author of Vegas Knights
“These days, a kind word is regarded with suspicion. A supportive gesture is mistrusted. An altruistic move never is. We live in a time where cynics ignore the saccharine of Chicken Soup books and accept hugs only from Mother, and only when we're drunk and crying. When a writer hits cynical, drunken, mother-hugging rock bottom, that's when they need Chuck Wendig's raw, no-holds barred advice. This is not for the faint of heart. But then again, neither is writing.”
-- Mur Lafferty, host of ISBW (I Should Be Writing) podcast, editor of Escape Pod, author of Playing For Keeps
"Despite being irreverent, vulgar, and funny, Chuck Wendig is also surprisingly profound. From one wordslinger about another, Chuck is the real deal and every prospective or working writer should read Confessions of a Freelance Penmonkey. Hell, the ‘Writer's Prayer’ alone is worth the price of admission."
-- Jennifer Brozek, Author of The Little Finance Book That Could
“No seriously, he’s not fucking around, you really don’t want to be a writer. But if you’re mad enough to decide that you do, Wendig will be your gonzo-esque guide, from the technical advice about structure, query letters and submissions, to dealing with agents and editors and how to make your characters do as they’re damn well told, he’s just full of good advice. Like a cursing, booze-soaked Virgil to your Dante, let him show you around...
Buy this book, your editor will thank you.”
-- Jenni Hill, Editor, Solaris Books
“About the only thing harder than being a writer is trying to capture the utter insanity that truly is the writer’s life. In Confessions of a Freelance Penmonkey, Chuck Wendig does just that. You’ll be laughing, crying, shouting and grimacing, but most of all, you’ll feel the deep resonance of hearing the truth in all of its sarcastic, profane and comedic glory. If you want to be a better writer, or just want to be inspired by one of the best takes on writing I’ve ever read, do yourself a favor and buy Confessions.”
-- Daniel Ames, author of Feasting at the Table of the Damned
250 Things To Know About Writing
All material contained within copyright © Chuck Wendig, 2011. All rights reserved.
Cover by Chuck Wendig, featuring the PENMONKEY design by Amy Houser.
Visit terribleminds, the website and blog of Chuck Wendig.
OTHER BOOKS BY CHUCK WENDIG
Irregular Creatures: Nine Short Stories
Confessions Of A Freelance Penmonkey (Writing Advice With Profanity)
Double Dead (Abaddon, November 2011)
Blackbirds (Angry Robot, May 2012)
Mockingbirds (Angry Robot, 2012/2013)
INTRODUCTION
Let’s just get this right out of the way –
This book has 275 things to “know” about writing. Not 250.
I know. I know. Believe it or not, I can count. Even though I am not a registered mathologist, or even a certified addition accounting therapist, I can still add up numbers without the use of my fingers and toes. In fact, I have a lovely abacus over here. His name is “Steve.”
It’s just, I’m a writer. And as a writer, 250 sounds cleaner than 275. I don’t know why that is. That latter 25 seems somehow like a crass little hangnail, doesn’t it? It feels like, “Well, pfah, why didn’t he just go to 300, then? Lazy dickwipe.”
So, you bought this book expecting 250 tips. You’re getting 275.
I can’t imagine it’s going to be another tear-stained pillow night for you over that niggling detail.
All right. Now that we’ve got that ticklish detail out of the way, it’s time to address another purposeful inaccuracy. (We writers are nothing if not lying liar-faced stinky poo-poo deception machines, after all.)
This book is labeled “things you should know about writing,” and features topics that again use that nomenclature – things you should know. As if I’m some kind of authority. I mean, I have a little bit. I’ve got a trio of novels coming out. I had a TV pilot deal and have a film in pre-production. I’ve been freelancing for a number of years now. So, I’m not completely mule-kicked. But even still – such gall of me to stomp in here and say, these are the most important things ever regarding the topics I have chosen.
It’s bullshit, of course. If this were properly named, it would be, “Things I Think About [Insert Topic Here.]” Only problem is, that just doesn’t have the proper smell of authority (which, for the record, smells like equal parts new car and chainsaw oil). It sounds a bit flimsy, doesn’t it? “Ehh, here’s 250 things that may or may not be true about writing, I mean, okay, I believe them, but you certainly don’t have to, no worries, no problem, don’t hit me, not in the face.” Wow. What a title that would make.
Far better to be all balls-out and cock-waving and say YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS SHIT OR YOU’LL DIE IN THE WATER AND BE EATEN BY TINY FISH AND CORPSE-RAPED BY AN OCTOPUS.
That gets eyes, after all.
And I want your eyes.
For my collection.
But I’ll have those in time. For now, just go forth and read this collection, which is a compiled list of all the many things I believe about writing. Use them. Discard them. Crumple them up and smoke them in a glass bowl so as to inhale their hallucinogenic vapors.
If you like the book, please spread the word.
Thanks!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
25 Things You Should Know About…
… Being A Writer
… Writing A Novel
… Storytelling
… Character
… Plot
… Dialogue
… Description
… Editing, Revising, Rewriting
… Getting Published
… Writing A Fucking Sentence
… Writing A Screenplay
About The Author
25 Things You Should Know About… Being A Writer
1. You Are Legion
The Internet is 55% porn, and 45% writers. You are not alone, and that's a thing both good and bad. It's bad because you can never be the glittery little glass pony you want to be. It's bad because the competition out there is as
thick as an ungroomed 1970s pubic tangle. It's good because, if you choose to embrace it, you can find a community. A community of people who will share their neuroses and their drink recipes. And their, ahem, "fictional" methods for disposing of bodies.
2. You Better Put The "Fun" In "Fundamentals"
A lot of writers try to skip over the basics and leap fully-formed out of their own head-wombs. Bzzt. Wrongo. Learn your basics. Mix up lose/loose? They're/their/there? Don't know where to plop that comma, or how to use those quotation marks? That's like trying to be a world-class chef but you don't know how to cook a goddamn egg. Writing is a mechanical act first and foremost. It is the process of putting words after other words in a way that doesn't sound or look like inane gibberish.
3. Skill Over Talent
Some writers do what they do and are who they are because they were born with some magical storytelling gland that they can flex like their pubococcygeus, ejaculating brilliant storytelling and powerful linguistic voodoo with but a twitch of their taint. This is a small minority of all writers, which means you're probably not that. The good news is, even talent dies without skill. You can practice what you do. You practice it by writing, by reading, by living a life worth writing about. You must always be learning, gaining, improving.
4. Nobody Cares About Your Creative Writing Degree
I have been writing professionally for a lucky-despite-the-number 13 years. Not once -- seriously, not once ever -- has anyone ever asked me where I got my writing degree. Or if I even have one. Nobody gives two rats fucking in a filth-caked gym-sock whether or not you have a degree, be it a writing degree or a degree in waste management. The only thing that matters is, "Can you write well?"
5. Speaking Of Luck
Luck matters. It just does. But you can maximize luck. You won't get struck by lightning if you don't wander out into the field covered in tinfoil and old TV antennae.
6. This Is A Slow Process
Nobody becomes a writer overnight. Well, I'm sure somebody did, but that person's head probably went all asplodey from paroxysms of joy, fear, paranoia, guilt and uncertainty. Celebrities can be born overnight. Writers can't. Writers are made -- forged, really, in a kiln of their own madness and insecurities -- over the course of many, many moons. The writer you are when you begin is not the same writer you become.
7. Nobody "Gets In" The Same Way
Your journey to becoming a writer is all your own. You own it for good and bad. Part of it is all that goofy shit that forms the building blocks of your very persona -- mean Daddy, ugly dog, smelly house, pink hair, doting mother, bagger-bitch at the local Scoot-N-Shop. The other part is the industry part, the part where you dig your own tunnel through the earth and detonate it behind you. No two writers will sit down and tell the exact same story of their emergence from the wordmonkey cocoon. You aren't a beautiful and unique snowflake, except when you are.
8. Writing Feels Like -- But Isn't -- Magic
Yours is the power of gods: you say, "let there be light," and Sweet Maggie McGillicutty, here comes some light. Writing is the act of creation. Put words on page. Words to sentences, sentences to paragraphs, paragraphs to 7-book epic fantasy cycles with books so heavy you could choke a hippo. But don't give writing too much power, either. A wizard controls his magic; it doesn't control him. Push aside lofty notions and embrace the workmanlike aesthetic. Hammers above magic wands; nails above eye-of-newt. The magic will return when you're done. The magic is in what you did, not in what you're doing.
9. Storytelling Is Serious Business
Treat it with respect and a little bit of reverence. Storytelling is what makes the world go around. Even math is a kind of story (though, let's be honest, a story with too few space donkeys or dragon marines). Don't let writing and storytelling be some throwaway thing. Don't piss it away. It's really cool stuff. Stories have the power to make people feel. To give a shit. To change their opinions. To change the world.
10. Your Writing Has Whatever Value You Give It
Value is a tricky word. Loaded down with a lot of baggage. It speaks to dollar amounts. It speaks to self-esteem. It speaks to moral and spiritual significance. The value of your wordmonkeying has a chameleonic (not a word, shut up) component: whatever value you give it, that's what value it will have. You give your work away, that's what it's worth. You hate your work, that's what it's worth. Put more plainly: what you do has value, so claim value for what you do. Put even more plainly: don't work for free.
11. You Are Your Own Worst Enemy
It's not the gatekeepers. Not the audience. Not the reviewers. Not your wife, your mother, your baby, your dog. Not your work schedule, your sleep schedule, your rampant masturbation schedule. If you're not succeeding at writing, you've nobody to blame for yourself. You're the one who needs to super-glue her booty to the chair. You're the one who needs to pound away at his keyboard until the words come out. It's like Michael Jackson sang: "I took my baby on a Saturday bang." ... no, wait, that's not it. "I'm talkin' 'bout the man in the mirror." Yeah. Yes. That's the one. Shamon.
12. Your Voice Is Your Own
Write like you write, like you can't help but write, and your voice will become yours and yours alone. It'll take time but it'll happen as long as you let it. Own your voice, for your voice is your own. Once you know where your voice lives, you no longer have to worry so much about being derivative.
13. Cultivate Calluses
Put differently, harden the fuck up, soldier. (And beard the fuck on, while we're at it.) The writing life is a tough one. Edits can be hard to get. Rejections, even worse. Not everybody respects what you do. Hell, a lot of people don't even care. Build up that layer of blubber. Form a mighty exoskeleton. Expect to be pelted in the face with metaphorical (er, hopefully metaphorical) ice-balls. It's a gauntlet. Still gotta walk it, though.
14. Stones Are Polished By Agitation
Even the roughest stone is made smooth by agitation, motion, erosion. Yeah, the writing life can be tough, but it needs to be. Edits are good. Rejections are, too. Write with a partner. Submit yourself to criticism. Creative agitation can serve you well. Embrace it. Look into that dark hole for answers, not fear. Gaze into the narrative vagina, and find the story-baby crowning there. ... okay, too far? Too far. Yeah.
15. Act Like An Asshole, You'll Get Treated Like An Asshole
Agitation is good. Being an agitator, not so much. Be an asshole to agents and editors, editors and agents will treat you like an asshole. Be an asshole to other writers, they'll bash you over the head with a typewriter, or shiv you with an iPad in the shower. Be an asshole to your audience, they'll do a thing worse than all of that: they'll just ignore you. So, for real, don't be an asshole.
16. Writing Is Never About Just Writing
Writing is the priority. Write the best work you can write. That's true. But it's not all of it, either. Writing is ever an uncountable multitude. We wish writing were just about writing. The writer is editor, marketer, blogger, reader, thinker, designer, publisher, public speaker, budget-maker, contract reader, trouble-shooter, coffee-hound, liver-pickler, shame-farmer, god, devil, gibbering protozoa.
17. This Is An Industry Of People
They say it's "who you know," which is true to a point but it doesn't really get to the heart of it. That sounds like everybody's the equivalent to Soylent Green -- just use 'em up for your own hungry purpose. That's not it. You want to make friends. It means to be a part of the community. People aren't step-stools. Connect with people in your respective industry. Do not use and abuse them.
18. The Worst Thing Your Work Can Be Is Boring
You've got all the words in the world at your disposal, and an infinite number of arrangements in which to use them. So don't be boring. Who wants to read work that's as dull as a bar of soap?
19. No, Wait, The Worst Thing Your Work Can Be Is Unclear
Clarity is king. Say what you mean. You're telling a story, be it in a book, a film, a game, an article, a diner
table placemat. Don't make the reader stagger woozily through a mire just to grasp what you're saying.
20. Writing Is About Words, Storytelling Is About Life
Everybody tells you that to be a writer, you have to read and write a lot. That's true. But it's not all of it. That'll get you to understand the technical side. It'll help you grasp the way a story is built. But that doesn't put meat on the bones you arrange. For that, you need everything but reading and writing. Go live. Travel. Ride a bike. Eat weird food. Experience things. Otherwise, what the fuck are you going to talk about?