Please note! This was not written by me -- but the non-italics are mine. This is actually the work of one Jamie Kennedy (~Heuue, who claims to be "a literary critic, author of short stories and poetry, and [a scholar of] philosophy of language at university." He is, in fact, a freshman at a no-rate college in the UK... and when he's 25, he's going to be really, really fucking embarrassed he ever wrote this.

THE TRUTH ABOUT WRITING: A CRITICAL ANALYSIS BY JAMIE KENNEDY


Whenever a person claims that there are rules to writing, that person is, in the strictest sense of the word, a charlatan.

(char-la-tan, n. 1. A person who makes elaborate, fraudulent, and often voluble claims to skill or knowledge. Let’s keep that definition in mind as we move through this article.)

That's because there aren't any rules to writing. Whoever has encouraged you to think otherwise is a fool (if they themselves believe that there are rules) or a liar (if they don't). If there were rules to writing, it would follow that writers would write in the same style, using the same structure, perhaps even using the same words, for the sake of uniformity. This is plainly silly.

(Ah, “silly.” There’s a fantastic scholarly, critical word. Methinks the old thesaurus must have got momentarily lost, or maybe he was just exhausted after the effort involved in looking up “charlatan”? Anyway. Basically, this part of the “essay” goes thus: anyone who has told you that there are any “rules” to writing is wrong, no matter who they are. (Even if the person who told you that a pantoum must be in quatrains and each second and fourth line should mimic the first and third line from the previous quatrain was Head of Princeton University, they are wrong.) This guy is right. He just is right. And how does he know he is right? And what qualifies him to hold this opinion? Well... we haven’t really got there yet. He’s just getting his main point out of the gate early: he is right and everyone else is totally wrong. OK?)

Anyone who has read ten different books, or even five, can demonstrate that there aren't any rules to writing.

(i.e., all those literature professors who have spent their time reading the entire literary canon and then some, in order to be able to write fair, informed and researched literary theory? Wasting their time! Don’t they know that you only need to read five books – at random, any five books whatsoever – to be a literary theorist? Don’t they know that five books is all it takes to qualify you to speak entirely generally and arbitrarily about literature in its entirely? What idiots! – oh no, sorry. Let’s stick with the high-end critical jargon here: what silly fools.)

Hemingway writes in a different manner to Doris Lessing, who writes in a different manner to Shelley, who writes in a different manner to Poe, who writes in a different manner to Joseph Conrad, and so on. This is obvious. For example, the works of Hemingway are characterized by terseness and understatement, whereas the works of Conrad are characterized by long, flowing sentences.

(And this is all because writing has no rules. Remember that. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they were all born at different times and in totally different places, experienced wildly different cultural upbringings, wrote in different eras, lived in different countries, were of different ages at their peak time of writing, experienced different historical events (war, etc) in different contexts, expressed different political and spiritual beliefs, or experienced different responses to their work. None of that stuff matters, because regardless of all that, Shelley would have written exactly like Doris Lessing had the two of them not just been born with the intrinsic knowledge that “writing has no rules.” None of that contextual stuff matters – it’s all about the sentence structure. Following?)

Now, it happens that every so often, you'll find two novels whose styles are similar, either in form (i.e. how they're structured) or in content (i.e. what they're about). This is usually (and simply) because the two novels are both a part of the same genre.

(gen-re, n. An ordering category of art or artistic works, as in literature, music or film, identifiable by a distinctive set of RULES: style, form, or content. That’s from the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, 2007 edition. But they’re wrong, remember. Just keep it in your mind: the Oxford English Dictionary is wrong. This guy is right.)

To take an abstract example, it's pretty difficult, isn't it, to think of any two crime novels in which at least one of the characters doesn't die, or in which at least one of the characters doesn't have an attempt made on their life. But that doesn't exclude the possibility of the existence of a crime novel in which neither of those things is the case. But we're not predisposed to recognizing that possibility, because most of us have in our minds the idea that it has to have at least one murder, or at least one attempted murder, in order for it to be a crime novel.

(OK, now you know what this guy thinks [he is right. He is not wrong. Did he mention he is right? Oh yes and the Oxford English Dictionary? Wrong. He is right. That is what he thinks, in case you’re still confused], so he’s moving on to telling you what you think. That’s kind of him. Basically, everyone in the world genuinely believes that all crime novels have to involve death. Every single person in the world thinks that, and he knows what every single person in the world thinks. Because he is right. Now you’ve been told what it is you think – isn’t that a relief? -- let’s move on quickly.)

This is what's known in the terminology as a cliché. A cliché is a universally accepted, and wrong, idea about something which is or which isn't the case.

(cli-ché, n. An overused expression or idea. That’s what that good old OED says. But of course, it is wrong! Actually, a cliché is something universally accepted [ie, everyone believes it – we all genuinely believe that “too many cooks spoil the broth,” after all -- that’s an example of a cliché given by my evil old OED]... and of course, all clichés are wrong too. Every single thing you thought you knew is wrong, basically. Aren’t you glad that this guy – who is right, remember – came along to help you?)

Here's an example: 'All the crime novels I've read contain at least one murder, whether attempted or actual;

(Now, I don’t know how many crime novels you have read. Hell, I don’t know how many crime novels I have read! But somehow, this guy knows. AND he knows that none of the crime novels you have ever read has been murder-free. You’re a crime literature specialist? He knows all the books you’ve read. He knows all of them have had murders in. Sorry... you’re wrong. He’s right. Keep up!)

therefore, it's true that all crime novels must contain at least one murder, whether attempted or actual. Otherwise, it's not a crime novel.' Well, that's simply not true. Whoever thinks along such lines is, as I've already said, a charlatan; and if they happen to be writers of crime novels themselves, then they're all the more so.

(OK, Mr Right here says that all the crime novels that anyone has ever read ever have murders in them. Earlier, he also said that everyone in the world is of the belief that crime novels have murders in them. Yes? OK, so he has told the world what we read and what we think... and now guess what? He is telling us we are wrong! The thoughts and habits he imposed upon us based in nothing more than his intrinsic powers to be right are wrong! WE are all charlatans [remember that word? You might want to go check out the definition again for good measure]! Particularly – and I’m not sure why, but this guy is right remember so there doesn’t need to be a logical argument, just go with it – if we are writers!)

Another cliché: 'This person has written many stories (or short stories, or poems, or whatever). These proved to be extremely popular. This therefore tell you that this person must be very skilled at his or her craft.' No. It doesn't. It may be that this person had the sheerest of luck to find a publisher willing to publish their works;

(Being published doesn’t mean anything in terms of the quality of your work, basically, because of course, publishers do not take the quality of the work into account. Hell, they don’t even read the stuff they’re going to publish! It’s all down to luck, it’s basically like a big cosmic lottery! If you write something and send it to a publisher, you will only get published if Fate is smiling down on you that particular day. Because publishers do not pay attention to quality, skill, content, marketability or anything like that. It’s all luck.)

it may be that this person, furthermore, had the sheerest of luck to have had their books marketed so well that enough people bought them and they became bestsellers -- which is, incidentally, also a matter of sheer luck.

(Yep. Publishing isn’t a business or anything – they don’t actually want to make money. They just love the lucky thrills and spills of randomly publishing anything whatsoever! So yep, they will invest thousands in marketing absolutely any book whatsoever – as long as it feels lucky! Oh yes, and bestseller lists? Sheer luck, too. People don’t think about what they want to read, they just read whatever feels lucky. Remember when you were being told how you think? Well, now you’re being told how you – and that means everyone! – choose books. Isn’t it nice to be told at last?)

After all, there are many books which have been written, and excellently written they were, too, but which found themselves in the bargain bin a few weeks later, with the price slashed by half. On the other hand, there are many badly-written books which, by the sheerest of luck, became bestsellers, not because they were brilliantly written, but because the marketing was right, or because the timing of the book's launch was right, or because the right number of people happened to be feeling particularly rich / generous enough to buy a copy of it, or perhaps two or three copies of it. Or because of any number of other factors which could have accounted for the book's success.

(OK, a traditional critical essay would have given examples here, for clarity. But that is wrong, remember. So basically, we have an “excellently written book” vs a “badly written book”, [in the next paragraph you will be told that there is no such thing as “good” or “bad” writing, but let’s not digress here, I’m sure that’s not a vital undermining of the entire argument of the essay or anything] and why does one win out and the other does not? Luck, always. Never because X publisher printed too many of X badly written book and had to discount it, and never because there was an economic publishing downturn which affected X publisher worse than Y publisher, and never because of outside factors like certain literature being in fashion and other literature not, and never because sometimes, one person’s “badly written” book is another person’s favourite book [because surely you can like a “badly written” book if there are no rules? No, apparently you can’t. You like what this guy tells you you like and think what he tells you you think, remember? Jeez, keep up.]. Basically, those things don’t make any difference to the book market at all – and hey, you run a publishing house? Well, you’re wrong. This guy is right – he knows more about publishing than you. Quiet. We’re getting to the important part, where he contradicts himself. But, you know, that’s OK... because he’s right. Always.)

The truth is that stories, short stories, and poems aren't good or bad. They can't be good or bad.

(OK so just ignore the whole previous paragraph in which the “excellently written” book is compared to the “badly written” book. That didn’t happen.)

That's because there isn't any 'right way' to write them. I was told by my English teacher: 'In this subject, answers aren't good or bad, but better or worse.' And the same is true here. Stories, short stories, and poems aren't good or bad. They're better or worse.

(There are some people out there who are right. This guy, and English teachers. You are wrong. Ask an English teacher, or this guy.)

If you want to write, feel free. But I'd precaution you to be wary of charlatans, who will talk to you about 'rules' (or 'secrets' etc).

(I think now is a really good time to revisit that definition, since we’re coming to the end and this has been quite a journey of self-discovery. So, you remember that a charlatan is someone who “makes elaborate, fraudulent, and often voluble claims to skill or knowledge.” For example, someone who tells you which books you have read and what was in all of them, when they haven’t even met you. Someone who tells you what you think about literature, when they haven’t even met you. Someone who tells you how the publishing industry works, when they do not work in publishing and you do. That kind of thing, you know? Be wary of those people. They are wrong!)

How you proceed from there is up to you. If you think that these people truly believe what they're saying, feel free to enlighten them.

(So, if you find someone who “makes elaborate, fraudulent, and often voluble claims to skill or knowledge” – you know, someone who does all the stuff I mentioned above, and who maybe claims to be able to make comment on the entirety of literature, for example, make sure you “enlighten” them. Make sure you tell them they are wrong. Be warned though: charlatans have a tendency to come back to you with expressions like “I'm a literary critic, author of short stories and poetry, and study philosophy of language at university [a fraudulent and voluble claim to skill or knowledge if ever I heard one], and I have to disagree -- your remark does not impress me.” They might also say “Some people will agree with me, some people will disagree with me... At the end of the day, I don't really give a shit.” Just remember the central point of this essay: charlatans are always wrong. Mr Right here says so.)

If they're lying, they're simply jealous of (or threatened by) you -- which is why they're trying to sabotage your efforts. By all means feel free to accept advice (which, by definition, you're not required to take). But don't let anyone shackle you down with rules. And good luck.

(So we have come to the end of our class today, folks. We never really established how all those literary critics came to get it so wrong, did we? No... we never really did find a coherent argument [oh, other than “I am right and you are wrong”, and even that wasn’t exactly well backed-up], did we? Oh well. You know you are wrong about everything, so at least we’ve achieved something. Good luck out there – and remember: keep your super-strength anti-charlatan bullshit-spray at your side at all times!)

Original article (in italics) by Jamie Kennedy, (~Heuue) a freshman in English Literature & Philosophy at the University of East Anglia, England... original here: [link] Non-italics mine.

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I am leaving dA as of today. Thanks to anyone who ever swung by to check out my photos.