Thousands of “How to Write Fiction” books have been written, dating back to Sherwin Cody’s 1894 How to Write Fiction, Especially the Art of Short Story Writing. Cody hadn’t published any fiction when he wrote his “how to” book. And two years later, his novel failed miserably. Cody never wrote fiction again. Or at least he never tried to publish his fiction. (In today’s electronic world, he might have tried “self-publishing” on Smashwords or CreateSpace.)
Through his failure, however, Cody discovered something about himself. He was darn good at writing “how to” books. Since Cody’s time, countless successful and not so successful writers have written instruction manuals on how to write. And of course MFA programs abound.
MFA programs at the very least can teach you the basics. The “good ones” cost more, and allow you instruction from “established” writers. But of course there is no guarantee you will learn anything beyond the basics. As in any “profession,” learning the literary tricks and infusing passion into your work require you to sell your soul to the devil and endure a lifetime of pain, which is of course hyperbole.
Perhaps the best (and cheapest) approach is to learn from all those how to books. They should at the very least urge you to read either great literature or the books in your niche or genre. (I relived heavily on literature, but of course also read genre novels and guidebooks.) How to guides can help you avoid amateurish errors (professional errors are often hailed as “groundbreaking”), give you a strong foundation to build on, and set you forth on a lifetime of exquisite misery, for there is no misery as grand as the struggling artist, poet, writer.
To build your foundation, you write and write and write and, if you’re lucky, about 2% of it might be good. Hopefully, the more you write and critique yourself and allow others to honestly rip into you, the better writer you will become. Join critique groups, take a workshop or two, give your work to trusted friends, and make sure they understand you want the truth no matter how insulting. Agree with them when they call you a masochist. Avoid the rationalization that your work is as good as the crap published. (So your work is as good as crap?) Above all, show some self-control and avoid self-publishing based on the praise of a few friends and relatives.
A lot depends on your age. If you are 40 or older and you’ve never written a scrap of fiction in your life, then take workshop after workshop, read book after book. You don’t have the time to learn by trial and error. I wasted lots of time avoiding workshops, but I have a convenient excuse — there weren’t many demanding my attention. That makes me sound somewhat intelligent, a visionary, self-taught. Like most of us, I thought I was smarter than I was.
However, to give myself a little credit, masters of any craft have one thing in common — they start early and “practice” nonstop. While I haven’t mastered all that much, or at least all I need to, I did start early. About ten. Presumably I should have acquired some skills.
Translating your fiction writing skills into commercial success however is a matter of persistence, networking, politics, marketing talent, and pure luck. Expecting commercial success is, as my wife is fond of pointing out, like expecting to win the lottery.
