There's an interesting article in the latest issue of the Atlantic on the very topic above -- can writing be taught? -- and I'm here to tell you, after all my years of teaching, the definitive answer: No.
Oh, sure, you can teach someone how to write correctly -- how to format dialog, where to place a comma, how to avoid using adverbs in dialog tags, he noted furiously, how to present plot in a cogent fashion, what the 7 basic conflict plots are, all that academic stuff -- but you can't teach someone how to be creative or compelling in their fiction. What I've always believed is that I can, as a teacher, foster those with talent toward success. I don't mean this in the sense that every talented student I've ever had has gone on to sell their novels and stories, merely that sometimes talent lacks a rudder. But if a person comes to a classroom with no ability to create with words a dramatic world, it doesn't matter how much instruction you give them, without talent they might as well be trying out for the NFL.
You can tell pretty quickly, even before you see the writing. In a class I taught at a writer's conference a few years ago, I had each student basically pitch their novels. We went around the room and each student said their peace, before we landed on a guy I'll call Mitch.
Mitch: My novel is about how the government keeps trying to hide the fact that there are aliens living among us.
Me: Okay, cool. How much have you written?
Mitch: About 100 pages.
Me: And who is the main character?
Mitch: There isn't one.
Me: What do you mean? There has to be someone who we follow around or care about, right?
Mitch: No, I just re-create a bunch of secret documents. So it's all reports. There aren't any characters.
Me: Have you ever read any novels that don't have characters in them?
Mitch: No, but then I don't read much.
Me: Why would someone want to read a book that has no characters in it? What's at stake?
Mitch: The world as we know it. Trust me. You'll have to read it. It's pretty incredible.
So I read the first 20 pages that evening (he brought the entire velobound 100 pages, of course) and, big surprise, it was the most boring crap you could ever imagine. It was, literally, a bunch of secret documents that said things like, "Cigar shaped craft was seen over Galveston. Field reports suggest object touched down for 20 minutes and off loaded something heavy and cumbersome judging from the well-worn pattern in the grass." And then the next passage would describe the marking, right down to their measurements. There was no person. There was no action. There was no dialog. The next day, I encountered the fellow after breakfast and told him that he hadn't written a novel, he'd written a fake research paper, and that if he wanted to write a novel, he needed put in some people. He told me I didn't know what I was talking about and that he'd show me and, well, here we are.
You can tell a person what makes up strong dialog, but that doesn't mean they'll ever figure out how to write it without it sounding like two people pumping each other for information. You can tell someone the reason their novel has been rejected by every agent in America is not because there is a universal cabal against them, but because their story has fatal flaws in its execution and they will tell you you're just part of the system and what do you know. Talent can't be taught, you have to have that to start with. If you don't have insight into the human condition, if you can't imagine a world different than your own, populated with people nothing like you, your writing will be bland, cliched, and boring to read.
I had a student not too long ago who had what sounded like a really compelling story idea: a psychologist ends up in a relationship with a crazy woman and together they have a bunch of shared delusions -- what is called a folie a deux -- that forces them both to the brink of madness. (I did note that it's hard to bring a crazy woman to the brink of madness, particularly since if that person were crazy, wouldn't they have already traversed that brink and jumped head strong into the abyss? The writer informed me I'd have to read it, it all made sense...which I've come to see as a bad sign.) The writer was also a psychologist, so I figured he might have an interesting insight into all of this. When I received his pages, they read not unlike the aliens landing in Galveston. It was, basically, a research paper on shared delusion, except that it read like a Wikipedia page, with a bit of setting tossed in just to confuse me. So, I said to the writer, Hey, this is all fascinating stuff, but this isn't a story. Nothing happens. It's just words on a page with no conflict. There's no interaction. There's no characters. There's nothing that makes it look like a novel. He told me that the first 200 (!) pages were like that, but after that it's far more traditional. I told him to send me from 201 on. That night, a file appeared in my email that consisted of pages 201-569 and it was exactly the same, but now some of the clinical explanations happened to have quotation marks around them. I wrote him an email and said, look, this is all the same, just with quotation marks. He told me he knew a hell of a lot more about writing than I did and that this was novel and though he'd been rejected by 150 agents, he was not going to be deterred and was going to self-publish his novel if need be. I told him I thought that was a good idea.
He clearly had talent of a kind -- his mind was thick with imagination -- but he didn't have the ability to synthesize it onto the page. And he probably never would. Could I have taught him? Oh, I tried. I told him every thing I knew. I gave him examples. I gave him books. I may have even used the word theme in conversation with him.
So can writing be taught? Clinically, sure. Creatively? Not really. If you can't imagine a world, no one will be able to get you there.
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I found this post very interesting, because the reason I'm on your blog is because someone recommended I take your UCLA Extension course. I was thinking about it but sadly I don't have the money at the moment, and I don't think I could get into Novel Writing IV since I haven't taken the first three (though I do have a completed novel I'm shopping around if that counts for anything).
I always love funny stories about crackpots. Keep 'em coming! :-D
Posted by: Dante Kleinberg | August 18, 2006 at 11:24 PM
I think you're right about this, and liken it to the visual arts. You can teach a group about shapes, colors, and mixing paints, technique, depth, etc., they see the same world (aside from perception) as everyone else, and yet there would definitely be artists and never-gonna-be's in the final showing.
(came here via your brother's weblog)
Posted by: susan | August 19, 2006 at 03:17 AM
Great entry. I felt compelled to comment on my own blog. When you stop to think about it, why would removing surplus adverbs and the like, actually create anything of interest? I guess it is hard to admit that our own ideas might not be that interesting.
Posted by: Eric Mayer | August 19, 2006 at 09:47 AM
I tend to agree with you because I've read lots of books with great premise and sentences but crap characters that do unrealistic things and therefore no matter how many comma's are correctly placed I can honestly say those books suck.
Posted by: Kristy | August 19, 2006 at 01:04 PM
You know how amazing it is that so many people who want to be writers don't want to read books. I'd rather read books than write them because my talent is limited. :)
Posted by: Tanya | August 19, 2006 at 07:18 PM
So Parade does a front page spread this weekend on the Ashton Kutcher-Demi Moore marriage and you got to figure the divorce papers are being served as we speak. What with 4-foot Ricky Ullman of "Phil of the Future" now at puberty, Demi can't ignore that. And Ashton has to know that blonde bombshell of the 50s Mamie Van Doren, although 70, is available. For diehard Mamie fans get "Girls Town" wherein mayhem reigns with three all-time Hollywood tough guys -- Paul Anka, Ray Anthony and Mel Torme. Bring it on.
Re writing: Fellow members of my writing group encouraged me to publish my memories of Boise, but I dither.
Posted by: David Zarkin | August 20, 2006 at 06:44 AM
This is a recurring motif in articles about creative writing: An idea isn't a story. A map isn't a vacation.
Posted by: Danny Barer | August 20, 2006 at 12:22 PM
Anyone who reads can write. To invent something different and new takes an awareness of an inner source which radiates sensations which transform into images which become visions. It's all in the training. With training, one will realize the gift or will realize there are other paths to discover.
Posted by: kate | August 20, 2006 at 06:11 PM
This issue always puts me in mind of Samuel Johnson's remark about women preachers (it may well be apocryphal, I'm too lazy to research it right now): The amazing things is not that they do it well but that they do it at all.
I, for one, hope the creative process remains a mysterious part of human nature. Life is so much more interesting that way. So is reading.
Posted by: Carter | August 21, 2006 at 11:23 AM
I have to disagree.
Though when you hear my explanation, you'll probably think I agree. I adore black and white, but I believe in the power of the gray area. Not that it matters.
I approach teaching writing as a swim or track coach might approach his job. Each individual brings his or her own best time, best stroke, and unique technique to the track or pool. It is the job of the coach to evaluate where each person is and to help each runner or swimmer improve his or her time (the technical part of writing), while also helping to improve upon his or her technique (the creative side).
If I'm lucky I'll meet one Mark Spitz or Jackie Joyner Kersee who I might help shape, even if only on a microscopic scale. More likely, their creativity will outshine my own and I will end up learning more from them.
So while I disagree that writing can not be taught, I do agree that it is only the few most talented and dedicated individuals who will achieve the goal of becomming represented, published, and produced.
For those not as talented from the starting gate, there is simply not enough time or teachers to help them improve THAT much.
But maybe I will train a future teacher, just as my father who once coached track and baseball spawned future coaches. He was even fortunate enough to coach an All American track star, though the talented runner didn't have the dedication to take his race all the way to the Olympic arena as everyone at the time thought he would.
Maybe it's the dedication and hours spent practicing writing that can not be taught.
Posted by: dana | August 24, 2006 at 09:00 AM
Sorry. Quick disclaimer that my "I disagree" line does not pertain to the post preceding it, but rather to Tod's original statement that writing can not be taught. Thanks. I now return you to your original and creative thoughts, already in progress....
Posted by: dana | August 24, 2006 at 09:04 AM