Learning how to write fiction well is a formidable task, and sometimes a frustrating one. When I embarked on this effort last year, I knew I was competent with the English language (I worked as a technical editor for some years), but not very practiced at the ways of storytelling. When I was writing for my own self-expression, I tended to focus on atmosphere, world-building, and ideas. All of these are desirable elements of speculative fiction, but are no real replacement for plot, character, and conflict.  I was also a bit clueless about how to approach the matter of literary style, and not well informed about many technical points of fiction writing, such as point of view, transitions, and pacing.

Where does one go to learn all this and become a better writer? Professional editors, agents, and publishers tend to communicate by form letter, having neither time nor motivation to comment on unsolicited manuscripts. Classes and workshops are a possibility, but the better ones are expensive and often restrictive. They represent more of a commitment of time and money than a typical beginner can easily handle.

That leaves books and critique groups.

I purchased and read a fair number of books on writing. (There are reviews of most of them on my main site.) These tend to fall into two categories: how-to books and reflections by celebrity writers. The latter, when well done, can provide a lot of inspiration and give a glimpse into the writing life. The ones I've read, though, don't have a whole lot of substance about the craft of writing. Being good at something and knowing how to teach it effectively are two very different skills. There is also the risk, with this kind of book, of mistaking a particular writer's idiosyncrasies for universal truths.

The how-to books were more helpful, but less inspiring. They are filled with sound advice (mostly the same advice from one book to the next). I learned a lot from these books, but the effect was a bit numbing, in two ways. First, I started to feel overwhelmed by the number of rules (or suggested approaches) being invoked. Every bit of text carries all these different burdens - plot, character development, description, style, point of view, etc. It's a near impossible task to get all these things "right" at the same time! It's hard enough just to remember them all. Second, the advice in these books began to seem a little narrow to me, like a recipe for writing a formula best-seller. Does every book have to interest every reader in just the same way?

The underlying problem with writing books is that they cannot be tailored to the reader. Someone writing a how-to book on writing must make some default assumptions about their readership - skill level, knowledge, goals. Such a book also has to focus on the most commonly encountered problems in novice writing (wordiness and excessive exposition being big ones). So the generic advice in the book may not be the best advice for you as an aspiring writer.

I'm glad I read these books. They gave me some good information and a solid overview of the important elements of a work of fiction. I refer to them from time to time. But I don't sweat over making sure my own writing follows the recommendations in these books in great detail. I also perform regular "reality checks" against the books and stories I enjoy reading. If good, published writers do something a certain way, I regard it as fair game to try in my own writing.

So I guess I'd say I've taken what I learned from the how-to books and internalized it as a kind of background for my writing and editing activities.

I drifted around some writing forums on the net before stumbling upon Critters, an enormous and well-organized site for trading critiques of science fiction, fantasy, and horror fiction. If you participate, you are virtually guaranteed to receive a copious handful (or more) of critiques of pieces you post. When I joined, I had never had a story critiqued before. I realized some of the critiquers would be more knowledgeable than others, but I approached it with the spirit that any reaction to my work would reveal something helpful. Alas, this is not quite so. Participants in this site run the entire gamut from published writers to utter wannabes who lack even basic skills in grammar and punctuation. The critiques represent a similar range, and I've learned to ignore a fair fraction of the "advice" I receive here. Nevertheless, the good critiques can be quite helpful, and the volume is nice. If three or four otherwise competent readers balk at the same element or passage in your story, it's clear that it needs some work.

It was via Critters that I connected with a smaller group of aspiring writers whose interests and abilities are comparable to my own. This group has been invaluable to me. We exchange written critiques, and also connect regularly via skype to discuss individual stories. I usually come away from such a critique with a clear idea of how to shift the emphasis of my stories to make them work better.

The two pieces of advice I'd give to anyone seeking a critique group are (1) find people who regularly read in the genre you write, and (2) find people whose skill level is comparable to your own. Each genre has its own conventions, and someone not used to reading in your genre can mistake unfamiliar elements for problems, and miss other problems that genre readers would not. At the very least, they will be reading your work with the preconception that it's not something they prefer to read. As for skill level, it's important to have critique partners who struggle with issues similar to the ones you face. If they are total novices struggling with mechanics, they can't help you much with characterization, plotting, and so on. Likewise, as a critiquer, you learn the most if you're trying to articulate what's wrong with a story when the problems are neither trivial nor beyond your capacity to spot.

Family members, I think it goes without saying, do not substitute for a good critique group, unless of course they are writers themselves and your relationship is open to objective criticism. Sharing stories with family members is nice to do, and can be a welcome source of encouragement, but encouragement and advice are not the same thing.

After getting a story critiqued, I have to deal with the prospect of revision. I know some writers who will completely rework a piece in response to a critique. That's not something I've been inclined to do as yet. If I think there are fundamental problems with the piece, I'd rather just begin the next one and try to learn whatever lessons the experience had for me. If there is a consensus (or at least a quorum) among the critiquers that a certain element or scene is not working well, I do go back and rewrite some. Often this is just a matter of emphasizing something I took for granted when writing, strengthening a plot connection, or making a more consistent sense of contact with the main character.

This brings me to a final matter, the psychology of criticism. It's not easy to have your creative undertakings dissected and critiqued. Even when the critiquer is diplomatic, I find myself becoming defensive regarding some particulars of a story. It can feel sometimes like navigating Scylla and Charybdis - finding a path between being imperviously arrogant about your own work (then why seek advice at all? Maybe you're really just after praise instead) and abjectly taking to heart every remark, no matter how intrinsically valid it may be. There's no magic formula for that, I've found. I do try to strike a balance, but I find there are always particular points where I struggle with whether or not to make a change.

In my experience, advice on writing is very important, although not as important as a clear internal compass regarding what I have to say and how I want to say it. Different readers react differently, even knowledgeable professionals. One person's glaring fault is overlooked by another. Knowing what I mean to accomplish, and what kind of reader I want to appeal to, lets me filter through the different pieces of advice and attend to the ones that are most helpful for the particular piece.

Finally, the value of writing advice seems to me to be cumulative rather than transformative. It gradually nudges me to notice things I'm disposed to neglect, and gradually seeps into the writing itself.

Next time, I'll conclude this end-of-year recap of my adventures in writing with a look at what I've been reading.