Book reflection: On writing: a memoir of the craft by Stephen King

I’m not really a Stephen King fan. To be completely honest, I’ve seen the films but I don’t think I’ve read any of his novels. Still, PhD writing is more like a marathon rather than a sprint and I feel like I needed a bit of a break, a different writing perspective, and some encouragement – ultimately benefitting my thesis. I looked up several books on writing, but this one seemed really interesting. It is a memoir, also providing practical writing advice at the same time. Although he is a fiction writer, I really welcomed the parallels I found within and the opportunity to reflect on my academic writing, halfway through my candidature. Maybe some of it might be helpful to you too.

Here are some of my favourite quotes from the book.

  • Put another way, to write is human, to edit is divine. I’ve realised that the editing process itself is a critical thinking skill, one that requires you to construct the big picture using the necessary details.

 

  • Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings. I think this piece of advice reinforces the above and should not be limited to creative writers. It is  essential for me to bear in mind that I need to be able to communicate my results, the fruits of my research, to many different groups of people – to the scientific community, to industry, and even to the general public at times. I want to employ distinct writing styles that would be effective for each. Not every single detail of my research is useful for all.  I think the process of critical thinking is central in academic writing – discerning the important bits. Remember as above, ‘to edit is divine’.

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  • Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open. Your stuff starts out being just for you, in other words, but then it goes out. Once you know what the story is and get it right – as right as you can, anyway, it belongs to anyone who wants to read it. I feel like this echoes much of the PhD experience. For most of it, my research is only greatly meaningful, at this stage, to myself. It feels like the research belongs to me, it is mine. Sometimes family members or close friends will ask me what my research topic is about. Occasionally I get to share my research at a conference or a panel event. However, the great majority of days are spent solitarily scrutinising my data and trying to carve out my thesis. It will probably (all in all, considering the time I took out for my maternity leave) take me a total of four years until my doctoral dissertation is complete and then I’ll formally be able to make my contribution to the knowledge in my field. It’s the wonderful understanding that after all, I’m not alone and my research isn’t mine, but a piece of a large global body of work.

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  • Tabby never voiced a single doubt, however. Her support was a constant, one of the few good things I could take as a given. And whenever I see a first novel dedicated to a wife (or a husband), I smile and think, There’s someone who knows. Writing is a lonely job. Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference. They don’t have to make speeches. Just believing is usually enough. The most supportive people I have in my corner are the ones I trust the most to tell me the truth, they are also the ones who have never wavered in their belief in me. Their support isn’t only voiced verbally, but it is demonstrated in action. My immediate family take time to help look after my baby daughter which allows me more time for writing, a shower, or a quiet moment for myself. My friends are always ready with encouragement, reminding me how far I’ve already come and gently remind me to keep going.

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  • It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn’t in the middle of the room. Life isn’t a support-system for art. It’s the other way around. What a timely reminder, when a lot of us have had to adjust to working from home in the past couple of months and find out how easy it is to get swept up in work. For me, it emphasised the need to have boundaries, how to ensure that work time does not encroach on time for family and friends. ​​​​​​​

 

  • Don’t wait for the muse. Ah, this just reinforces most of the PhD writing advice I have received in the past two years. I won’t reach the goal of writing 80,000 words if I always just wait for ‘lightbulb’ moment, or for inspiration to strike. My supervisor encouragingly reminds me that PhDs are marathons, not sprints and that it is crucial that I pace myself. Some weeks, writing may come easier and there are other weeks where it’ll be tougher. I’ve found it really helpful to just keep moving. Striving to write for ‘two golden hours’ each day makes it possible for me constantly have something to work on. Other PhD students will try and write 1,000 words each day, which is roughly two single-spaced pages, giving them 80,000 words in 80 days. Of course, the rigour is in the constant re-writing and the meticulous crafting of the content. Still, having 80,000 words to work with, is easier than having zero. Don’t wait for the muse, write something everyday.

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  • In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. Why do we bother with research? And why do we publish our research? My area of research examines social identity and the intersections of gender and race. Amidst the ‘pink collar recession’ and the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement, I find great meaning and purpose in my efforts as a PhD candidate.
Tagged in phd, writing, What messes with your head