Absolute Gentleman

I ducked into the reference bookshelves at Barnes & Noble the other day, and I came across a book on writing called Novelist’s Boot Camp, written by Todd A. Stone. I’m embarrassed to say that it intrigued me, felt great in my hands, looked packed with information that could help me. But then I put it down, looked around to see if anyone saw me in the writing reference section, much less with my meaty paws wrapped around the latest in amateur writers’ gimmicry. I shoved it back on the shelf because I think I’m better than a book like this one. I have a completed manuscript, am pretending to work on a novel…I used to have an agent for chrissake. Why should someone like me even think of buying something like this?

No, my angle toward satisfying my appetite for writing instructional is getting it from books written by teaching gods or from novels doubling as a writers’ instructional. That way, I can continue to pretend I am above all the cheesy instructional manuals that start with lame writing exercises like: “Write about your greatest fear…” or “Write about a fight you had with someone. It can be a physical fight or an argument or both…” I’m better than these right?

Actually, I love writing exercises, and I’m going to make it a point always to love writing exercises, even if I tell all of you, in the future, after I’ve published my first novel, but only with a house that’s also agreed to take on my collection, too, that I loathe writing exercises, that they’re the work of those who make excuses not to write anything of substance, and that they’re written by has-beens or never-wases.

I’m glad I can admit this, even on this blog that ten people read, because a month or so ago, my literary obsession, McSweeney’s, published a spoof on writing exercises, called “Thirteen Writing Prompts,” by Dan Wiencek. It’s a hilarious set of exercises meant to toy, probably lightly, with the idea of doing writing exercises. I, ridiculously, was mildly offended by it in my own personal, Yeah-I-Have-Problems way. I was so put off by it that I tried to have a little Thirteen Prompts writing party, inviting others to share in the hilarity I dug up from the Internet.

“Hey, look at what I stumbled upon on the McSweeney’s site…The site I check eight or nine times every day? God, Isn’t this so fucking funny? Let’s get together and laugh at the world of beginning writers by tackling this Thirteen Prompts challenge head on…”

To hide the fact that I love writing prompts and endless writers’ instructional, I borrow instructionals from my writing center, Word Street, and shove them into my bag, my man-bag the students at Lee, the high school where I teach, call it. I shoved a book called Get That Novel Started! into my man-bag and savored the first 55 pages like I was licking a Tootsie Roll Pop, rubbing the buds on my tongue raw to get to the center, but resolving not to cheat by skipping the first pages and jumping right to the good stuff: the step-by-step process that will get my novel written for me.

Plus, this book was published by Writer’s Digest Books. If you’re pretending to be a writing instructional snob, like I am, you hate anything published by Writer’s Digest Books, think that anyone who reads anything published by Writer’s Digest Books is obviously a hack and you’ll never have to worry about competition from these people. Writer’s Digest, the magazine, is another piece of hackwork, too…you’d think.

I’m interviewing the great Lydia Davis for the literary magazine upstreet, the most literary, credible, and certainly un-hack-like thing I’ve done in the area of literary arts in the last year, and in the interview, she mentions the usefulness of a particular writing instructional. I’m not going to mention the book’s title, because I want you to buy upstreet number two and read what I’m secretly calling my Redemption Interview. Anyway, here I am, feeling guilty over being pulled to the “Writing Reference” section, like I’m fumbling with the curtain entrance to the porn section at the video store, and here is this woman, the classiest and most talented writer I’ve ever had the opportunity to speak with, mentioning the usefullness of a book on writing. She even quoted from it.

If it’s good enough for Lydia Davis, then I’m getting on her bandwagon, y’all, because it doesn’t get any more professional and legitimate than Lydia Davis.

Proudly, I’ll list the writers’ instructionals that make me tingle. Right now, though, I must get my novel started!