I want to point out that what follows is not to be considered writing advice – far from it. It’s simply my take on the opinions of others, and how it influenced my writing.
It seems no matter what I was doing, I’d always seek the boundaries of that activity – what’s possible? I have many examples of this that hinge on stupidity, and could have ended my life. Thankfully, here I am. One such event worth mentioning was when I tried testing the effectiveness of ABS braking. (The Anti-lock Braking System [ABS] is an innovation first introduced on aircraft landing gear and later adopted by the automotive industry. The general idea is that the wheels are prevented from locking under severe braking, and thereby counters skidding and loss of control of the vehicle.) It did what it said on the box and I was impressed. So much so that I decided to illustrate this to a relative.
I had done a ‘test run’ earlier in the day in a shopping mall’s less used parking area. It worked perfectly. The test was simple; speed up to a wall and apply the brakes as late as I had the nerve for. The ABS system did not fail me – yet. I went to pick up my unwitting passenger and drove back to my testing ground. Unbeknownst to me, during that time the mall staff decided to wash the parking area’s floor. I lined my car up and told my passenger that we will accelerate to 60km per hour and at a certain point I’d apply the brakes and stop before hitting the wall ahead of us. He looked nervous and ensured his seat belt was secure.
I can tell you ABS braking is no match for a surface covered with a fine, invisible layer of slippery soap suds. At the point where I had determined I needed to apply heavy breaking, I did. For any of those who have had that stomach churning experience, it feels as if the car starts accelerating, never mind braking. We hit the wall head-on which I’m sure shook the mall.
After a few seconds of stunned silence, we pushed the deployed airbags out of the way, and found the engine still running. I wanted to avoid an incident with the mall’s security, and between the squeaks and steam gushing from a bust radiator, we limped from the scene of the crime; me with my tail between my legs. It was going to be an expensive repair. It wasn’t all bad though. No one was hurt, and I had found the immovable, concrete boundary.
I needed to share that account with you to provide context to how I started writing; it was similar. There are times I feel I may have benefited from having had more knowledge of the craft and its market before starting out. That thought is quickly dispelled when I realize I then may never have undertaken such a daunting task. This was a case of; “fools rush in…”
There are many articles and videos on the craft and business of writing, but somehow it never occurred to me to consult them. Perhaps it was obstinacy, another of my failings. However, and the point of this article, is something I came across long after my first novel – Residues, was completed. It was ‘write what you know’. I’m pleased I didn’t stumble upon this obstacle earlier in my writing endeavor, it would have ruined everything. Now I’m not saying there is no truth to this piece of advice, it just needs to be qualified. There are many writers and writing courses that support and defend this notion, just as there are as many that don’t. They both have valid reasoning. And that’s the problem, not only with this piece of advice, but almost every piece of advice on the subject.
It comes down to interpretation and context. That old adage; ‘you have to know the rules before you can break them’ comes to mind. If you are not a lawyer and have never spent a day in a courtroom, or are not John Grisham, reconsider writing a detailed courtroom drama scene. It will be a mess and you’ll be called out. That doesn’t mean you should not ever attempt such a scene. You’ll just have to put in many hours of research to make it accurate and convincing – something Mr. Grisham doesn’t even have to think about. It comes down to common sense and knowing what you don’t know. As with most things, the devil’s in the detail, and the more detailed that scene, the better you need to be equipped. This leads me to another element of the ‘write what you know’ advice – judgment. This is a tricky area, because I don’t know anyone who will publicly admit to having poor judgment, and yet, we’ve all witnessed it many times. Judgment may further require objectivity, and both these traits are difficult to come by.
When I first came across the ‘write what you know’ advice, I was pleased to learn many well-known authors shunned it. This boded well for me, as the entire Residues was based on topics, environments, and skilled people I had no idea of – let alone complex ethical and moral quandaries. The difference for me was that I was able to identify what I needed to know, how much I needed to know, and then put in the research. Except perhaps the scenes concerning the CIA. I admit, I didn’t do much research in this area. I’m no Tom Clancy, but realized that no matter what I wrote, it could be plausible. The inner workings of the the CIA and such bureaus is truly an arena where fact is more bizarre than fiction. Also, it wasn’t a requirement of my writing to provide any in-depth detail; I wasn’t aiming to write a spy novel. (Residues has a gifted actuary as the protagonist. Why I decided to stretch myself to this extent can only be considered a form of masochism. However, I did a fair amount of research to portray him as accurately as possible. I then took it too far. The scene didn’t survive the final manuscript, and I’m disappointed I didn’t keep it for posterity. This is how the scene played out. The protagonist (Grant) is to meet a new acquaintance at her apartment he has never been to. He has misplaced her address and phone number. All he has is her apartment building, and is standing outside looking at the rows and columns of intercom buttons. To make a painful story short, he mathematically determines that she could be in 4 of the 60 apartments. I actually went through the calculations, odds, and statistical deductions as an actuary would. Madness. Then I changed tack – sometimes an obvious answer is staring us in the face. He simply pressed all 60 buttons and waited for her voice – simple. There was a moral in that scene that was not lost on me; we are prone to over analyze and complicate issues. I needed to simplify, and with that the scene perished. I believe it was a fortuitous judgment call; the only readers who may have enjoyed it would be the mathematically inclined.
Perhaps the ’write what you know’ premise must be expanded upon to provide a clearer context. There are students believing this advice as de facto, and I fear these souls will be churning out bland and uninspiring novels. Few of us have lives interesting enough that warrants anyone wanting to hear about it. They say everyone has a book in them. That may well be, but what will one do for a second or third novel?
In summary, I offer my perspective on the ‘write what you know’ advice; “Write what you know, but know what you’re writing.” Your readers expect it.
Want a different perspective? Following is a link to the Literary Hub website that provides an in-depth overview with 31 authors weighing in on the topic. It will open in a new Tab.
I believe there’s more to explore, and perhaps somewhere in the future I’ll revisit this topic. For instance; if writing a convincing courtroom drama scene requires specialist knowledge, does it follow that all lawyers could become the next John Grisham?
