Write edited by The Guardian (review)

Any book on the nuts and bolts of writing should have something of relevance, or at least interest, for any writer. I have read various books purportedly for authors in other academic disciplines than my own, such as business or medicine, ¹and have always found plenty to engage me. Books on non-academic writing are common on the bookstore shelf, and I have found many of them enthralling, providing a different view of the process than my purely academic viewpoint. It is books on how to make money from writing novels that I avoid; if purchased in error, they are soon on their way to the landfill.

After this preamble, you will understand how a book entitled, simply, Writewould attract me. Writeis well written and highly readable, but is aimed at the nascent novelist, not the jaded academic like your reviewer. Yet its eccentric structure and varied content make it an attractive book to read; it is a ‘dipper,’ in which you can drop in and out of the parts that interest you, with abundant short, snappy essays and lists written by established novelists and poets. It is divided into an introduction and four sections: ‘How to Write: The Fundamentals of Fiction’; ‘My Rules: Dos and Don’ts from the Greats’; ‘How I Wrote … The Making of Modern Classics’; and ‘Postscripts: A Few Final Tips.’ The book is the size of a small paperback and will slip easily into your pocket or bag.

Although primarily for writers of fiction, the section ‘How to Write’ is not just concerned with characters and plot. Topics of importance to all writers include getting started, writing description with meaning, revising, and rewriting. The chapter ‘Getting started’ by Jill Dawson examines starting a novel, but similar advice might be given to anyone writing a monograph or thesis: ‘Dive in. There is never a perfect time to write’ (3). The author rightly stresses that if you wait for that brilliant opening sentence, it may never come. Write and write and write, and then it may appear. Or not. There is more to being a productive writer than just one sentence. Write and write and write, then cut and trim and edit.

When I describe a fossil or a rock, my methods are different from those of a novelist like Adam Foulds. But both of us aim to write descriptions that are ‘vivid’ (22). In describing my new specimen or species, I can be aided by photographs and diagrams, but I aim for my depiction to be so thorough that informed readers can reconstruct it in their minds from the text alone. In essence, Foulds expects similar detail in a description in a work of fiction, illustrating his premise with striking quotations from Joyce, Flaubert, Waugh, and Hemingway.

M. J. Hyland (‘Revising and rewriting’) tells it as it is, although it will not please any new author. Hyland makes strong use of quotations to underline that even great writers rewrite and revise. For example, Joseph Heller was brutal when he said, ‘Every writer I know has trouble writing’ (35). Why shouldn’t every and any academic writer have trouble, too? We do, don’t we? It is not easy; as academics we work hard to write, revise, and rewrite, then submit our precious prose for publication. An editor and, commonly, two reviewers make (hopefully) constructive comments that involve further revision, perhaps even further research. Even after acceptance, the copy editor might tighten our belt another notch. It is only naïve academics who think their prose is deathless; compared with a Joseph Heller, we are mediocre writers whose papers have but a brief shelf life.

And then there is a complete change of style and tempo. ‘My Rules’ is a section of lists, the dos and don’ts of great and good writers. They vary from the brief to the detailed, from the glib to the informative. This section should be read with your highlighting pen to hand, marking...