I never cared for Stephen King.
I knew he was an incredibly prolific author, the adopted son of Maine and progenitor of my clown nightmares. That's where I was content to leave my familiarity with him; once I have been reduced to tears of terror and snorts of self-aware shame in a public showing of the film It (because my sister heard it was "really good!" and didn't want to go alone), I'm happy to acknowledge this genre might not be for me. But after hearing that I should read his memoir On Writing from multiple published authors, I decided to listen to them over the din of my clown-induced sobs and give it a go.
I read two hundred pages in three hours.
Yes, as a teacher I've honed my ability to skim through student essays, and yes, I've been starved for reading material beyond dispassionate history textbooks, but this memoir was darn good. Aside from his vivid storytelling ability (Indeed, the first chunk of the book is about his childhood, which I never thought I would care to hear about, but he hooked me! Maybe that's why he's a famous author.), he just gives some practical, down-to-earth advice about writing. The one that sticks out most in my mind is this: to be a writer, you have to read a lot. No exceptions.
And there it was, my carte blanche to kick back and drift through Frank Herbert, Kurt Vonnegut, J. K. Rowling (a tenth time)! To produce something creative, you must replenish your own font. And what a breakthrough that was, to be given permission by Stephen King himself to read for pleasure despite a demanding day job and home life. I realized I had written off reading books for fun as something I used to do, back in my college days, when I still had this since-forgotten thing called "time." No more.
Guiltless, I dove into a new genre: treatises on grammar. Stephen King had quoted many times the seminal work on the English language, Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. Though I've read its entertaining knock-off cousin, The Elephants of Style, and though its rules have been hammered into me by persnickety, beloved high school English teachers, I had never gone straight to the source.
I love it. I love it so much, I'm reading "the little book" slowly to let its wisdom marinate my soul. I realize many would assume a list of grammar rules is not the height of entertainment, but Strunk is sassy in a way that only tight-assed, rule-abiding nerds can be. Much as a Lord of the Rings fan would split hairs over the proper pronunciation of the Black Speech of Mordor, Strunk berates the philistines who split infinitives. He makes you want to learn the elements of style just so you can earn his approval and be in on the joke.
Strunk's lessons fluidly infiltrated my writing. Not blog posts, mind you, but professional emails—emails to my students. In response to homework or essay queries, I abandoned my generally warm tone for "one must avoid the passive voice" and advised they "omit needless words." Perhaps it wasn't the best approach during a time of social isolation, but it wasn't intentional, and that's my point. If my writing can so easily absorb the style of a glorified grammar book, how much more beneficial would an actual book be?
So, because of Stephen King, I now consider reading an essential part of my day. Like eating, sleeping, and walking my dog, reading is a must. One must read if one wishes to write.
And with that, I give myself permission to explore a new land free from pandemics but doubtless ridden with some fantastical pestilence that only our hero can overcome.
Thanks, Stephen King!
I knew he was an incredibly prolific author, the adopted son of Maine and progenitor of my clown nightmares. That's where I was content to leave my familiarity with him; once I have been reduced to tears of terror and snorts of self-aware shame in a public showing of the film It (because my sister heard it was "really good!" and didn't want to go alone), I'm happy to acknowledge this genre might not be for me. But after hearing that I should read his memoir On Writing from multiple published authors, I decided to listen to them over the din of my clown-induced sobs and give it a go.
I read two hundred pages in three hours.
Yes, as a teacher I've honed my ability to skim through student essays, and yes, I've been starved for reading material beyond dispassionate history textbooks, but this memoir was darn good. Aside from his vivid storytelling ability (Indeed, the first chunk of the book is about his childhood, which I never thought I would care to hear about, but he hooked me! Maybe that's why he's a famous author.), he just gives some practical, down-to-earth advice about writing. The one that sticks out most in my mind is this: to be a writer, you have to read a lot. No exceptions.
And there it was, my carte blanche to kick back and drift through Frank Herbert, Kurt Vonnegut, J. K. Rowling (a tenth time)! To produce something creative, you must replenish your own font. And what a breakthrough that was, to be given permission by Stephen King himself to read for pleasure despite a demanding day job and home life. I realized I had written off reading books for fun as something I used to do, back in my college days, when I still had this since-forgotten thing called "time." No more.
Guiltless, I dove into a new genre: treatises on grammar. Stephen King had quoted many times the seminal work on the English language, Strunk and White's The Elements of Style. Though I've read its entertaining knock-off cousin, The Elephants of Style, and though its rules have been hammered into me by persnickety, beloved high school English teachers, I had never gone straight to the source.
I love it. I love it so much, I'm reading "the little book" slowly to let its wisdom marinate my soul. I realize many would assume a list of grammar rules is not the height of entertainment, but Strunk is sassy in a way that only tight-assed, rule-abiding nerds can be. Much as a Lord of the Rings fan would split hairs over the proper pronunciation of the Black Speech of Mordor, Strunk berates the philistines who split infinitives. He makes you want to learn the elements of style just so you can earn his approval and be in on the joke.
Strunk's lessons fluidly infiltrated my writing. Not blog posts, mind you, but professional emails—emails to my students. In response to homework or essay queries, I abandoned my generally warm tone for "one must avoid the passive voice" and advised they "omit needless words." Perhaps it wasn't the best approach during a time of social isolation, but it wasn't intentional, and that's my point. If my writing can so easily absorb the style of a glorified grammar book, how much more beneficial would an actual book be?
So, because of Stephen King, I now consider reading an essential part of my day. Like eating, sleeping, and walking my dog, reading is a must. One must read if one wishes to write.
And with that, I give myself permission to explore a new land free from pandemics but doubtless ridden with some fantastical pestilence that only our hero can overcome.
Thanks, Stephen King!
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