I should have known better. After all, I majored in art, but somehow I fell into the trap anyway, by asking myself a question more treacherous than the Bermuda triangle during a category 5 hurricane: What gives writing value?
At the time, I had just read a particularly thin blog post sweepingly denouncing the fantasy and science fiction genres as being total crap. Since I write in both genres, when I saw his title, I was looking forward to hearing what he had to say, but his points essentially were: “I hate fantasy with all its dumb dragons and stupid elves and science fiction is okay sometimes, except when it deals the human situation; I hate the human situation in my fiction.” I was baffled. Whose situation was he interested in reading about? Even when writers take the points of view of animals or aliens, how can a writer avoid using being human as a reference point since writers and readers tend to be, um, well, human?
I could see no value in his post. It did nothing more than tear down, and the arguments were flimsy. That is why I stumbled into the trap of wondering what gives writing “value,” but it was a bad question to ask because there is really no answer that works for everyone. A story one person scorns is loved by another, and the “I hate science fiction” post might have been embraced by someone who shared the opinions of the author.
The uncomfortable truth is that, like all art, writing is uncompromisingly subjective. People try to reign in subjectivity with rules and generalizations about what constitutes “quality.” You will often hear blanket statements in interviews with agents about what makes writing worthy, but the definition of art is not “that which satisfies a checklist of guidelines composed by a respected authority.” “Rules,” if taken too seriously, strangle creativity.
Although I was unable to come up with any universal guidelines for what gives writing “value,” one good thing came from my musings: I asked myself, “What is it that makes me treasure writing? Not just enjoy or value, but treasure?”
“Treasure” may seem to be an odd word to use for a story these days. There are so many, and the existence of \”slush piles\” creates the impression that most writing is worthless junk, yet some books really are treasured. Avid fans of a series will look forward to a book release date for months or even years; if you give certain books to people for birthdays or Christmas, they are thrilled to see the anticipated title when the wrapping paper is peeled away.
I am not able to say what makes others treasure books, but I can speak for myself. Though I may “value” a clever plot, addictive suspense, or a well-crafted story, what ultimately makes me treasure a book is the distinctive voice, insights, and personality of the author.
Not everyone loves Mark Twain, but it is his authentic voice, his courageous ability to deviate from the herd, his personality, his wit, and his irony, that set him apart from hundreds of entertaining yet forgettable novels I have read.
When I look at his books on my shelf, I “remember” hanging out with him on the Mississippi River as he made perceptive wisecracks.
However, some scholars have argued that Huckleberry Finn would have been a far better book without the humor. Take Mark Twain out of the story, remove his wit, his irony, and his personality so that what is left is a dry, straightforward and respectably serious commentary on the horrors of American slavery.
Anyone who thinks that art is better without the artist has no grasp of what art is. The books I remember best are the ones where the writers were fearless about being themselves. Honesty alone is enough to confer some “value,” even if the writer is unskilled.
The anti-science-fiction blogger did seem to be giving his honest opinion, which is why I had to let go of the idea that the blogger had not written anything of value. I could not possibly know that. All I could say with certainty is that it had little, if any, value to me.
I have said over and over that there are few “wrong” reasons to write, and expressing why you hate something is valid, even if I disagree. However, some people view writing a story as building a bookshelf from pre-assembled parts. “Just do your job. Your writing is for the reader, not for you. Take yourself out of your work.”
A writer cannot take herself out of her writing even if she tries. A story has an un-severable connection to its creator and, as an extension of the artist, it is bound to be liked by some and disliked by others. Trying to objectively define what gives writing value was a waste of my mental energy, since nothing I said could ever be more than my personal opinion.
However, as a reader, I can say what makes me treasure writing enough to give it a reverential place on my bookshelf. In the works of writers like Mark Twain, J.K. Rowling, Ray Bradbury, and Isaac Asimov, I have a feeling that I know the writers. They have transmitted enough of themselves through their work that they seem like friends.
I once heard books described as “minds on shelves.” I love that definition. It explains why certain novels on my shelf have more than just “value” to me; it explains why I treasure them.
For me to treasure a book, it is not enough for a writer to be lovable. The talent, skill, and effort to tell a story well are essential. However, many thousands of books are entertaining and competently written. It is the courageously authentic voice, personality, and viewpoint of an author that ignites a story and propels it from good to great.
If you enjoyed this post you might like my other writing. Take a moment and sign up for my free starter library. Click here. Also my new novel \”The Ghosts of Chimera\” will soon be published by the folks over at Rooster and Pig Publishing.