On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

King discusses what it means to “write a lot” (151). Different writers produce differing amounts of work, from James Joyce and Harper Lee on the low end to Anthony Trollope and John Creasey on the high end. King questions why writers who produce relatively little have done so: “If God gives you something you can do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?” (152).

King describes his own writing practice. When he is working on a project, he writes every single day. When he doesn’t have something he’s working on, he doesn’t write at all during that time. He uses mornings for writing and aims for 2,000 words or ten pages a day. He thinks that the first draft of a book shouldn’t take more than three months. He likes to work in a “serene atmosphere” and to never slow down the pace when he has a project (154).

King delves into advice for the daily writing practice. While it’s true you can read anywhere, you should have a designated space for writing: “The space can be humble […] and it really needs only one thing: a door which you are willing to shut” (155). In this space, you must eliminate all distractions, like TV, video games, and so forth. As you grow as a writer, you can learn to tune out distractions, but it’s best to start out with none. The writing room should be where you go for a type of “creative sleep” (156).

King advises to start with small, manageable goals, such as 1,000 words a day six days a week.

In this chapter, King examines the content of what one writes. He says you should write “Anything you damn well want. Anything at all… as long as you tell the truth” (158). You can begin writing in a genre that you love, and it’s alright to begin by imitating writers that you admire. However, heavy imitation will read as “overcalculated” (161).

Also, you shouldn’t write simply in order to make money or to sound impressive. 

Rather, you should “Write what you like, then imbue it with life and make it unique by blending in your own personal knowledge of life, friendships, relationships, sex, and work” (161). People especially like to hear about work, so this could be a good place to start. King uses the example of John Grisham’s The Firm. It was a bestseller because it’s based in Grisham’s reality and experience as a lawyer. Thus, it is “both brave and uniquely satisfying” (162).

King tackles the issue of plot in this section. He advises to never plot out a story, but rather start with a situation and characters, “watch them try to work themselves free” (164). Plotting and outlining a story should be last resort, as these feel “labored and artificial” (164). Rather, writers should try to excavate the story like excavating a fossil.

King reports that he almost never plots stories beforehand. He recounts the inspiration for Misery: he dreams the situation of the novel while on a flight, writes down some descriptions on a cocktail napkin, then stays up in a hotel one night to begin writing the story. The story changes a great deal from what he originally imagined, which is something that often happens when he writes. He thinks up situations while going through the day, such as “What if vampires invaded a small New England village? (Salem’s Lot)” (169).

He ends the chapter with a writing exercise starting with a situation: Jane returns home after dropping her daughter at daycare and feels uneasy entering the house. On TV, she sees that three men have escaped prison and realizes one is her ex-husband, Dick. She realizes that Dick is in the house. King then advises to start writing without plotting and reverse the genders of the main characters.

King analyzes description, which “is what makes the reader a sensory participant in the story” (173). You should read a lot to get a sense of how much to use. King advises finding a happy medium between too much and too little. He tends to shy away from lots of physical description of characters and instead focus on locale and texture. Here, employ “a few well-chosen details that will stand in for everything else” (175). You should avoid descriptions that contain clichéd similes, metaphors, and images. Instead, use “fresh images and simple vocabulary” (179). King includes an excerpt of his which is set in the Palm Too restaurant in order to illustrate description.

This chapter analyzes dialogue, which defines characters and gives them voice. According to King, “good dialogue […] is a delight to read; bad dialogue is deadly” (181). It’s possible to improve your dialogue skills, but some writers are naturally better than others. Authors like H.P. Lovecraft and John Katzenbach are not good at writing dialogue, while writers like Elmore Leonard excel. In this way, “Many good dialogue writers simply seem to have been born with a well-tuned ear” (184).

To write good dialogue, you must be honest. This produces, “resonance and realism” (186). If you know your characters well, you will have a sense of how they speak. Also, you should only use profanity when necessary and it feels true to the character’s speech.

The rules for dialogue also apply to character construction. Writing good characters entails “paying attention to how the real people around you behave and then telling the truth about what you see” (189). A character can grow as the story progresses and thus inform the course of the story.

You should avoid writing one dimensional tropes like, “‘the bad guy,’ or ‘the best friend,’ or ‘the whore with a heart of gold’” (190). Aspects of characters should be taken from your experience and observation of life. Also, King believes that “[e]very character you create is partly you” (191). King explains that parts of Paul Sheldon are also him.