Five unpopular opinions about writing

All views my own, held partially in jest

Dorothy was saying ‘don’t @ me’ before it was a thing

Substack is so full of thoughtful, well-researched, carefully argued essays these days that I have decided to contribute some old school, Twitter style rage-bait to lower the tone. Nowhere are we more in need of this type of discourse-frying content than in the literature corner of this lovely site: yes, I’m talking to you, with your sensitive critiques of other writers, and your generous support for their endeavours. It just won’t do. So below are five opinions I have about writing which lack nuance, and which I have done no research at all to back up. Agree? Disagree? Any unpopular opinions about writing of your own? Tell me in the comments - trolling and controversy welcome.

1. If you don’t find writing hard, you’re not trying hard enough

   You will say this opinion stems from jealousy and a vindictive need to justify my own joyless writing process. You will be right. But nonetheless I am always suspicious of writers who tell me that their work ‘just flows out’ effortlessly and organically. For me writing is difficult, frustrating, and laborious, and I don’t believe it can be any other way. If your writing ‘just flows out’, have you really done enough redrafts?

2. If you don’t like a book after twenty pages then you’re allowed to give up

   Ok, so this is an opinion about reading rather than writing, but oh well - I made no claims for quality or consistency with this post. I will, however, offer you a fun game to help you court controversy with bookish people next time you’re at a party: ask them how many pages of a novel you have to read before you’re allowed to make your mind up. I’m shocked by how many people say over a hundred. A hundred? Maybe I’m a philistine but the prose style is unlikely to change and life is really quite short. Why torture yourself? The one exception to this rule is when you’re learning to read classics for the first time, or learning to read in a new genre. Fifteen-year-old me walked with The Mill on the Floss so that Middlemarch could run.

3. No writing course can teach you as much as reading widely can

   I have done some creative writing courses and really loved them: I made friends, I had deadlines which helped me to produce work, I got great industry tips. But I don’t think I learned anything about writing which I couldn’t have figured out from careful and curious reading of amazing plays and novels by other people. You do have to read widely and pragmatically for this strategy to work: there’s no point only consuming 19th century literature if what you want is to write a bestselling romantasy to rival ACATAR. Still, if I was betting on someone who spent their 9-5 in writing school but never read, versus someone who read novels 9-5 and took notes on why they were good, I’d put my money on the reflective reader turning into a better writer. Again, one exception to this: having an excellent editor/dramaturg/beta reader can make a huge difference to your work. To me that no longer falls into the category of ‘writing course’ and it should be something you can find without paying for it if you nag and shmooze strategically (and offer favours in return).

4. You don’t need a structure or routine to produce good work

   Hi, it’s me again, justifying my haphazard process by judging other people. But sometimes I think that the obsession with the schematised, colour-coded day is just a way to escape the harder work of deep, unstructured thinking - and the even harder work of making peace with the inherent unpredictability of a creative life. I have written five plays and a novel and I’ve never managed to structure my day in any sort of meaningful way. I only have one rule, which is that I try to write something, at some point, for some amount of time, every working day. Is this near-total lack of order why I’m so depressed? Probably. But I’m simply not capable of anything else so I refuse to accept it is necessary.

5. The listicle is the death of art.

   Haha, just a funny meta-joke. But I do also think this.

6. You need to read on paper or make notes on paper to remember things

   This is a bonus one because 5) was just silly. I am an enormous fan of Substack, but I do find myself forgetting the things I’ve read on here more quickly than when I read on paper. I think the reason for this is that we associate the internet with ‘browsing’ and so part of our long-term memory isn’t fully activated when we read online. This is a shame because some of the most interesting writing I engage with is on this app. I think the solution is not to stop reading Substack (please don’t do that), but to make notes in a notebook, if you want to hold onto your thoughts. Just three bullet points or favourite quotes from a piece I’ve read is normally enough to get the information to stick in my brain.

That’s all folks! I’ll be back with traditional Fictional Therapy next week - I’m answering a letter about friend break-ups. If you have any ideas for books about friendship you think I simply must reference, feel free to leave a comment or dm me.

(& If you found this post through the Substack app, please know I normally write a literature themed advice column, which uses insights from classic novels to shed light on people’s modern day dilemmas. It’s far less reactionary and far more nuanced than this listicle (I hope) ). XX