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I was thinking about the changes that have happened on my blog over the past few years. When I first started Tumblemoose, I approached topics from the standpoint of inspiring other writers. To some extent that is still my hope, but how this is accomplished has admittedly changed. The first year or so was filled with advice that was probably standard but given from my own unique perspective. I’m still fairly proud of those posts.
The last year or so has seen less “advice” posts and more “posed questions” posts. Reflecting on why this is, it occurs to me that the number of valuable advice posts is finite. At some point I believe it has all been said and my perspective is not noteworthy enough to truly be of much value. Cynical? Maybe.
Now, I know new writers are entering the world of blogging every day. A lot of these folks would benefit from helpful writing advice. I don’t deny that. I sincerely hope that as they poke around, they find some of my early posts. And Lord knows, there are certainly enough folks out there posting their writing advice perspectives every day. Now and then, I’ll look in on these and see what a particular blogger has to say. Sometimes the perspective is fresh and new. Sometimes not. Mayhap a new writer will be inspired and in that instance, the blogger has provided a valuable service.
As I indicated, my most recent posts are more along the lines of looking at an issue and posing a question. A lot of the time, Twitter and Facebook provide the fodder for these topics. I’ll see a title tweeted by a respected person and it will ignite an idea in my head. Rather than being advising in nature, these posts pose a question and ask for a response from writers. One of the things I’m liking about this is that the conversations tend to be thoughtful and advisory in and of themselves. In some ways, the comments section becomes the meat of the meal and the original post just a mere side-dish. I’m totally okay with that.
I like how fresh, new writers are often inclined to post a comment. They comment as much as the seasoned writers do and I think that’s cool. Kind of puts us all on the same level.
To answer the question posed in the title, yes I think that writing advice is helpful. I’ve just found that helpful writing advice comes in a lot of flavors, not only in a writing “how to” post.
Your perspective?
Thank you for this post, George!
First of all, writing advice is always helpful.
The thing that bugs me, though, as a professional writer, is the lack of mastery of the sheer ‘basics,’ judging from blog comments from many so-called writers.
Everybody, it seems, wants to be a writer. But many of these hopeful folks don’t want to spend the time to learn how to do the following:
Proper spelling.
Proper punctuation.
Proper grammar.
Proper amount of ‘butt in chair’ before even typing one word into the public realm.
I’m talking about investing oneself in learning how to creatively write WHILE IN JUNIOR HIGH or HIGH SCHOOL.
This may sound harsh, but professional writing is a tough business (yes, a ‘real’ writer needs to also know how to run a business to be a ‘real’ writer). That’s another skill that needs to be mastered before one hangs out their writer shingle.
It’s time for a writerly wake-up call for those wannabe’s who want to cut the line to get into the club.
A good writing mentor knows when to call out his/her overzealous student(s) by sending them back to repeat a grade level if they are not yet ready for prime time. No, this won’t kill their muse or stunt their growth. It may shake their sense of entitlement, though, caused by too many helicopter parents who have pre-empted their kid’s past learning issues, and caused by too many blind believers in starry-eyed ‘get rich quick’ advertisements in so-called writing magazines.
Telling them the truth will instead save them the public embarassment of going public too soon with their writing and revealing their foundational weaknesses.
In a way, learning to become a ‘real’ writer is like this: it’s way too easy to get (or make someone) pregnant; it’s hard, much harder, to master good parenting after the fact, when there has been no preparedness test to pass, or a willingness not to make mistakes in the first place.
Classic writers over time have been highly educated people. They know the roots, the subtleties of our language. They know how poetry influences the readability of prose. They know the mathematics behind writing rhythmic sentences that grab the reader by the hair and won’t let go. They know how to choose just the right word that sends the reader’s imagination into the stratosphere.
Sound like too much work, this writing thing? Well, it is, like any good thing in life. Posers need not apply.
So, yes, writing advice (like cooking school) is helpful. Helpful and necessary, to take the time to sift out the chaff from the wheat, to brutally follow the recipe to the letter, to prevent the loaf from coming out of the oven … half-baked.
That’s why artisanal bread costs more and tastes better!
I think writing advice is helpful, but then again so is editing advice, formatting advice, cover design advice, marketing/networking advice and publishing advice. You always hear people say that advice is worth what you pay for it and that may be true to some extent, but I think it’s more true to say that it’s worth what the guy giving it paid for the knowledge he’s giving you freely.
As an amateur writer I have been writing for the past thirty years just for my own enjoyment. I applaud anyone who is willing to help me along with a little advice, insight, critique or encouragement. (See my most recent blog post.) Mr. Long is very correct in his statement that writing professionally is hard work. That’s why a little helpful advice is always welcome in my inbox.
Thanks for examining this topic, George.
Roger Engle´s last [type] ..Friendly Encouragement
Truthfully, advice is always helpful, it’s just that few actually follow it. It seems that writers dismiss it as not applicable to them in much the same way that drivers dismiss advice as meant for the other guy. After all, I’m a great driver. Go tell it to that idiot in front of me.