I’m sure many of you writers have heard the old adage, “Write what you know.” I have, over and over, but I’ve always wondered, what about us speculative fiction types? Are we supposed to enroll in NASA so we can experience a spacewalk before writing about life beyond Earth’s gravitational field? Should we don suits of medieval armor and traipse across the countryside looking for dragons to slay (and dodging the men in white coats)?
Of course not. Practical experience, where feasible, is a good thing. Knowing how to shoot a bow, load a gun, build a campfire, or catch your own dinner can add verisimilitude to your stories. But writers have a much more important—perhaps even sacred—duty to their readers. They must capture the imagination. Although the inclusion of details can help (in moderation), it’s not the whole story, if you’ll pardon the pun. A writer must be able to write what she or he doesn’t know, and do it so convincingly that ninety-nine percent of the readers will never know the difference. And the one percent who do may forgive you if you tell a good story along the way.
If I may use my humble self as an example, I can state categorically that I have never killed another human being (although the day is not yet over). So why choose an assassin as the main character of my novel? Sheer hubris? Because it seemed like a hoot? Okay, maybe a bit of both, but the main reason was because that was the character that fit the story. And through all the pages that followed, all the rewrites and edits and copyedits, I stayed true to my vision of that character. Beauty marks, warts, and all.
So what are the keys to writing what you don’t know?
Rule #1: Trust your imagination. You probably don’t know what it feels like to get onstage in front of ten thousand screaming people and entertain them with your syntho-guitar. But your rock star/private detective heroine does, so readers are going to expect you to show them how that feels. If you are a real-life musician with some stage experience, that might help. (And then I would ask, why write? Musicians get the girls/boys, the fame, and other recreations that authors have to pay for.) If not, you’re going to have to employ your imagination to put us into your heroine’s imitation leather boots. There have been amazing stories about life in exotic locations written by people who never left their hometown, riveting accounts of battlefield heroics penned by authors who never held a gun.
Rule #2: Study people. Stories are about characters, and characters exist within relationships. And everything you need to know about relationships and the human condition occurs around you all the time. What? You don’t see duels to the death with ray guns every day? Okay, but you witness conflicts, arguments, and maybe even the occasional utterance of profanity. In essence, these are duels, whether with words or laser pistols. Bring that conflict to your story. The forces that move us—love, honor, friendship, betrayal—are all around you.
Rule #3: Don’t lie to the audience. If I don’t know something, and I can’t research it (not my forte), then I try not to pretend that I do. But sometimes you have to walk a narrow line. Readers want to experience things they’ve never done. Things you’ve never done (and some you wouldn’t if you had the chance). There’s a difference between storytelling (make-believe) and deception. Make sure you know where you stand.
Personal experiences are a great way to mine for ideas, and the details you glean from them can add punch to your narrative, but a story isn’t a collection of facts. The best insider jargon and look-what-I-know details in the world won’t bail out a poorly-imagined story. Instead, write the best book/short you can, and then go back to add a few specific details in spots that need a lift, like adding a pinch of spice to a dish. Don’t want to go overboard and ruin the meal, but if you do it just right you’ll leave the reader with a taste for more.
Art of black dragon writing by Ciruelo Cabral
Jon Sprunk’s debut novel, Shadow’s Son (Pyr Books) was released in June 2010, and the sequel is due out this summer (2011). For more about his and his work, check out his website linked above.
Hi Jon, great article, and I agree. For me, the “write what you know” quote is particularly relevant for your character relationships. You touch on this in Rule #2. Look at your own life and look at the kind of relationships you know about: what experiences hurt you? What inspired you? What do you believe in? What does it takes to trust…and to lose that trust? Take those timeless ideas that are (as you say) part of the human condition and then apply them to your characters set in imaginary lands or times.
Thanks for writing this one.
I think “write what you know” is also good advice in the sense that if you are writing in a genre, you should know that genre. If the only fantasy book someone’s ever read is Lord of the Rings, and they decide to write their own fantasy, it’s probably going to end up being pretty derivative of Lord of the Rings.
On writing what you don’t know, I think another important rule is research. If you are going to write someone who is a heartless killer, you don’t have to go heartlessly kill yourself, but you can read about real-life examples. To follow examples: reading memoirs of astronauts can give you an idea for what goes on in their head during the spacewalk, and for the kind of personality that is required for that job. A biography of Jeffery Dommer might help with the heartless killer, too.
Honestly, research isn’t exactly my strongest point either, b but I know when I write, I spend quite a bit of time dredging the internet, looking for sources. Wikipedia is a great place to start, althought one should always try and find more than one source if what you are looking up is more than just flavor. TVTropes can always be a good place, although one might risk coming off a hair derivitive with that… And lose an entire day without realizing it…
“If you are a real-life musician with some stage experience, that might help. (And then I would ask, why write? Musicians get the girls/boys, the fame, and other recreations that authors have to pay for.)”
What a weird statement. Are you saying that if you can play music there’s no point to writing because the material rewards of being a musician are greater? What a silly thing to say.
I see ericosenfield has beaten me to the punch, so I’ll pass and go on to the small beer: enjoy the punch, ericosenfield! – two of my earliest SF masters were Arthur C. Clarke, and following his lead, Olaf Stapledon.
No one to the best of my knowledge has ever matched Olaf Stapledon’s sheer scope in Star Maker, let along Nebula Maker; Arthur C. Clarke’s scope in Against the Fall of Night and The City and the Stars barely reaches the bottom rung of the scope of Last Man and First Man – in many ways, those two novels are closer to Last Man in London.
Now that is where I don’t think anybody could ever “write what you know” in the autobiographical sense, because listening in to Bright Heart and Fire Bolt (two of the greatest lovers in SF – if you don’t believe me, read Nebula Maker) discussing and disputing their individual philosophies would require a lifetime well in excess of the human lifespan …
So I’ve never taken “write what you know” in the solely autobiographical sense – it makes sense for Solzhenitsyn to write autobiographically; but not for the Strugatsky Brothers.
I always like to think the adage ‘write what you know’ simply encourages research, meaning that you should look thoroughly into your subject, learn all you can about it (within reason), before you write.