The Amateur Author
With my nine-to-five office job it’s only fair I consider myself an amateur author. Despite the critical success of my books, I certainly don’t make any money out of them and could not afford to write as my sole occupation. I’m undecided if the life of a full-time, ‘professional’ author would be for me, should my readership ever expand to a sustainable level. But it got me thinking about what makes an author.
To my knowledge, Charles Dickens had no special author training, nor did Jane Austen, nor Steinbeck, Orwell, the Brontes, Scott Fitzgerald, Twain, etc. Some may have studied literature or trained as a journalist, but I suspect most learned to read and write at school and furthered their education by simply reading other novels and regularly putting pen to paper, as did their peers who never developed into authors. Perhaps their imagination sets them apart and who knows how one cultivates or teaches that ethereal quality. But even with an imagination there is a need to be both have a desire to share a story and the ability to do so.
A master of a musical instrument must practise, practise, practise; mastering technique and theory. To be an author, we must master our own language; something that is all around us most of our lives. There are no laborious keys or chords to rehearse, no using two hands at once. But it is no less complex than music (a language in its own right), its omnipresence meaning we somehow learn the complexity even if we don’t fully understand it. Of course, there are those who have swallowed a dictionary and can show-off with their long words, but communication has never needed a big word when a small word is available. To turn this gift of vocabulary into a novel there are a few other steps an author must take: reading and writing.
With reading, the practise rewards in more subtle ways. After a certain level of attainment, you don’t become a better reader. You absorb information, become more rounded and knowledgeable, and perhaps, without realising it, you appreciate a good writer more. We then need to practise our writing. It’s something we do as part of our everyday lives, be it pen to paper, finger to keyboard, or scribbling a shopping list or constructing an essay. It's a big leap to then write a novel. Do we subconsciously pick up the style of our favourite authors, enabling us to follow in their footsteps and write ourselves? It doesn’t necessarily translate that reading Dickens will turn you into a great author, and, if you try writing in his style it is unlikely to be well received among the modern literati. We may learn how to structure a story or develop a character, but combining a good yarn, with a relatable cast, in the company of good prose, is a hard thing to teach. Your modern writing course (something Dickens certainly didn’t attend) will drum into you the importance of showing not telling etc, but I suspect the recipe of a good author is life: a melting pot of all those books you’ve read, the people you’ve met, the problems you’ve solved, the tears you’ve cried, the love you’ve felt and given. While the sign of a good book is the reader loves it. That's quite a flexible pool from which an author might emerge.
Producing a novel is a little like raising a child in Victorian England: it’s a lot of hard work, poverty awaits most, many don’t make it, and, for those that do, once your job is done - they fly the nest or you publish the book - you’ll love them to bits but there is little you can do to improve them (beyond the odd edit and new edition - wouldn’t that be helpful with those kids!). You tackle your future children with all those lessons picked up from the first, and that is true with your future novels. There are no professional parents, just amateurs with a variety of skills and circumstances, and, despite their backgrounds, some are good parents and others not so good. Some will raise angelic children you’ll never know about and others will create monsters you wish you had never heard of. So, I conclude that all authors are amateurs too, finding their way, making mistakes, stumbling on a method, reaching the end and creating angels and monsters, with a few lucky enough to make a living from it.
I must go. I can hear my new novel wailing. It needs a feed.
Nathaniel M Wrey