I developed a theory about teaching and learning during my time teaching high school and college English (which also related to how I learned things).
It’s this: At any given moment in the classroom, the teacher has no idea what concept they are teaching impacted which student. In a class of 30, maybe half of them were really tuned in to what you were saying, and of the half that were with you, maybe half of those might be able to tell someone else after class what you were talking about.
A few days later, even the attentive students will have lost most of the lesson.
And yet, students do learn, mostly through repetition and practice.
Neither the teacher nor the students can predict when a lesson will really stick with them. I get this mostly from talking to students who have long left my classes. They will say things like, “I remember this one point you made one day. Never been able to forget it,” or the equivalent.
My own experience matches that, particularly when it comes to writing. A demonstration from a teacher, a comment during an author’s presentation, a line from an editor’s note. These are the moments that stayed with me.
Oh, and moments of clarity that leapt out from books on writing.
Almost all my writing knowledge comes from kernels of wisdom that stuck with me. My task as a learner is to expose myself to tons of wisdom, knowing that occasionally something will stay with me and make a difference.
I’m a big fan of books on writing. I highlight them, reread them, and copy lines down in my notebook. They are the portable classroom. My writing book collection is huge. If you drop into any large, well-stocked bookstore, you’ll find a section devoted to them.
Here are books I recommend. If you already read writing books, you’ll have your own list.
First, in the category of a writing book like no other, Jeff VanderMeer’s Wonderbook: The Illustrated Guide to Creating Imaginative Fiction. It’s huge, comprehensive, beautifully illustrated, and guaranteed to keep you interested.
In the category of straightforward, no-nonsense nuts and bolts guide to storytelling, Wulf Moon’s How to Write a Howling Good Story. Wulf’s students have gone on to make first publications, sell their fiction widely, and win awards.
In the category of “I need a motivational boost,” Ray Bradbury’s Zen and the Art of Writing. Ray’s enthusiasm for writing bubbles out from every chapter. When I reread it, I can’t wait to get back to my computer to work on a story.
In the category of “Writers are people too—now get over it,” Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. Anne writes beautiful essays and moving fiction that makes the art of writing look easy. Her book peels back that relaxed façade to reveal what writing really is like for her, and she shares strategies for moving forward.
In the category of “I just need a boost to get started,” Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter’s What If? Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers. As their description says, the book addresses two skills: Writing like a writer, and thinking like a writer. It’s filled with exercises to get you going.
In the category of “What would a world-class writing teacher say about writing,” Peter Elbow’s Writing Without Teachers. One of my early college composition teachers based his class on this book, and it influenced how I wrote and how I taught writing from that point forward.
In the category of “I need good examples to look at, and how the authors wrote them,” Paragons and Those Who Can, edited by Robin Wilson. Wilson has gathered science fiction and fantasy stories from the very best in the field: Harlan Ellison, Robert Silverberg, Ursula K. Le Guin, Greg Bear, Pat Cadigan and numerous others, following each story with lengthy commentary from the writer. An invaluable look at the best in short fiction with insight from the writers of each.
In the category of “I need a simple approach to writing that works,” Ralph Fletcher’s What a Writer Needs is the book for you. This might be a surprising recommendation because Fletcher teaches writing to elementary school students, but everything he says has applications for an adult who writes.
In the category of “I’m more interested in the power of poetry, even in my fiction,” Ted Hughes’ Poetry in the Making feels like it is just as much about writing stories as it is about composing poetry. It’s a skinny read, but I return to it constantly.
In the category of “I really need help editing my work after I finish the first draft,” Ken Rand’s 10% Solution is invaluable. He drills down to what works on the sentence level and elevates writing from what I’ve called American Adult Average Standard Style, which is perfectly comprehensible but isn’t professional, into writing that sounds more like it came from a pro.
There are many others I could add. I told you I collect them, like Bruce Holland Rogers’ Word Work, Jane Yolen’s Take Joy, Annie Dillard’s Living by Fiction, Robert Silverberg’s Science Fiction 101, David Gerrold’s Worlds of Wonder, Stephen King’s On Writing, and Ursula Le Guin’s Steering the Craft.
When you’re not writing, one way to grow is to settle into a good writing book. You never know what will burst from the page and lodge itself into your brain.
James Van Pelt has been selling short fiction to many of the major venues since 1989. Recently he retired from teaching high school English after thirty-seven years in the classroom. He has been a finalist for the Nebula, the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award, Locus Awards, and Analog and Asimov’s Reader’s Choice awards. Years and years ago, he was a finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer. He still feels “new.” Fairwood Press recently released a huge, limited-edition, signed, and numbered collection of his work, THE BEST OF JAMES VAN PELT. He can be found online at his website or on Facebook.
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