On Writing – Stephen King

When I was halfway through this book I already knew I wanted to read it again; it’s that good. Please note my use of a semicolon there, because among the many writing tips I got from the master on the mountaintop was the directive to make the semicolon my friend. We’ll see how it goes, it’s still a new relationship; the semicolon and I are still getting to know each other.

I started reading Stephen King at some point in my teens. Pet Cemetery may have been the first, and I remember it giving me chills and making me imagine our family cat in ways I’d rather forget. After that were Cujo, Misery, and many more. I had to hide the books from my parents I’m sure, they’d not have approved of such things at the time. It was the eighties, and satanists lurked around every corner. These were scary books. Horror books. Books that gripped you tight and whispered dark happenings in your ear. It was wonderful.

On Writing – A Memoir of the Craft, is scary-good. It’s certainly geared towards writers, but Stephen King fans will likely enjoy it too. Who wouldn’t want to sit down with Mr. King on a comfortable sofa and listen to him talk about his life and writing habits? Yes please, sign me up. This book is personal and casual, the voice it’s written in is like a warm mug in your hand as he starts off by telling you about the rapscallion years of his youth. During the first part I did find myself wondering at one point: “When are we getting to the writing tips Steve?”, but that was my eagerness speaking. The master’s intent became clear later on; all the little things that formed the writer, as he put it, were part of the secret sauce.

Mr. King shares with the reader the striving early days of his career, full of rejection letters nailed to the wall and day jobs to pay the rent. I admired his tenacity as a writer; he just kept at it, story after story. It’s a quality I wish I’d adopted twenty years ago. Then came the breakthroughs, the helpful nuggets of advice from editors and acceptance of little pieces into magazines, followed by the first book deal and then WHAM. The dam bursts, the ship achieves orbit, we’re off to the races. It’s any writer’s dream, but aside from persistence and typewriter, what does any writer need to succeed? What tools does one need in one’s toolbox? Well, pull up a chair and in part two Stephen King will tell you.

I’m not going to rewrite his book here and tell you what he said, for those secrets you’ll have to climb the metaphorical mountaintop yourself and read the book. What I will say is that the whole thing is absolute GOLD. It was inspiring, assuring, instructive, and entertaining. The book should have been part of the recent semester-long novel-writing course I took. It should be read by writer’s groups, by everyone! There is a certain irreverance for the “writing establishment” though, and for how-to books on writing in general. This irony is acknowledged, and the take-away for me was: More writing and less talking (about writing). I think he’s earned the right to infer such things after eighty-four books, most of which are best-sellers. Irreverence aside, Mr. King does draw our attention to the fact that one cannot just splatter words on a page and call it a day. He talks about the value of vocabulary and grammar, and references classics like William Strunk’s The Elements of Style. Mr. King does a great job covering the territory of good storytelling, dialogue, and character development. It’s all in there, and it’s all colored by his experience and perspective. For this wanna-be, it was a reminder that self-percieved genius is not enough, there are still rules and regs if you want people to have a good time reading your stuff. If a writer adds to that their own special brand of magic, well, miracles can happen.

So, read it I say. If you’re one of the eighty-one percent of people who report wanting to write a book, you could do worse than to add On Writing to your reading list. I will read it again, and probably return to it repeatedly. Dust will not gather where this book lies.