I didn’t know how to spell “sheriff” when I began writing my first mystery.
After all, it wasn’t a word that came up in my job as a medical records scanner. I made other spelling and grammar mistakes as well. Lie verses lay; a while vs. awhile; a lot, not alot. I’d had a reasonably good education, but that was a long time ago. Still, at forty when I discovered my love of writing, I wasn’t going to let a few little mistakes stop me. Once I found that I loved the process of putting stories down on paper, there was no way I was going to quit.
My mother was my first editor, painstakingly reading the dot-matrix printouts of my first manuscripts. She made notes in the margins with a red pen. To this day (another thirty years after) I can still see her handwriting where she pointed out corrections on the page.
And guess what—I learned! I learned more than spelling and grammar: I learned how to write.
I was asked recently by a would-be author how to begin her story. The answer that sprung instantly to mind was, write. Put words on paper—don’t worry about making them good. In time, you will find your voice.
Award-winning sci-fi author David Gerrold said in one of his master classes, “The first million words are practice.” That’s a lot of words, but when you love doing it, the time passes and suddenly you’re there. If you look back at your first manuscripts and compare them to your newest, you will see the difference. In those first trial-and-error stories, the plot may have been good, but chances are, the writing was not. You may have emulated other writers or books you enjoyed. Imitation is one facet of learning. But somewhere between then and now, you grew, you found your own voice, and you learned.
Learning never stops. Our “voice” continues to mature. Our technique on the page becomes more precise.
So for someone who wants to tell their story but has no clue how to go about it, here are my suggestions:
Write: All the time, anywhere, about anything. A journal, a blog, a poem, an essay. Do it again and again until it feels comfortable. Go big—jump into a novel. Outline it or fly by the seat of your imagination, but don’t quit. See it through. Read it, revise it. Let it teach you.
Read: Read everything. Books that appeal; books that are beyond your comfort zone. Magazines, posts, the advertising on the bus. Notice how the words fit together.
Do you like it?
Why do you like it?
What detail makes it likeable to you?
Pick out the author’s voice, that illusive way of writing unique to that person. Listen and learn.
Enjoy: Don’t worry that your first (second, or tenth) try does not produce the Great American Novel. Don’t worry if the Big 5 publishers don’t jump to pick it up. Don’t worry if your kids think you’re crazy for spending so much time holed up by yourself writing. In fact, don’t worry at all. If writing is your thing, the process will both thrill and distress you. If writing is not your thing, you will be bored to tears, and I suggest you try some other expression of creativity, such as painting, photography, mandala coloring. The only limits to creativity are those we put on ourselves.
One last note. Everyone has a story; whether we choose to share it is up to us individually. What story would you tell, and what medium would you choose to tell it?
