|Wombats. Taking over the universe after nap time.|
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Write What You Know
This is crap advice. Don’t do this.
Because what if you want to write about wombats who live in marshmallow towers on Jupiter? Chances are you won’t have a lot of practical experience in the area of marsupial-marshmallow space colonisation. That’s a specialist field.
And here’s the other thing: you know more than you think. Because some themes are universal. There’s that whole common humanity thing, that whole questioning-our-existence-and-looking-for-our-place thing. There are questions that people have asked since the beginning of sentient existence. We asked them when we were figuring out how to make fire, and we’re still asking them today. And, five hundred years from now as we gaze on the pink and white marshmallow towers of Jupiter and listen to the plaintive mating calls of the space wombats echoing in the night, we’ll still be asking those exact same questions.
Don’t write what you know. Or, don’t write just what you know.
Take risks. Use your imagination. Write what the hell you want to write.
What writing advice do you think we should ignore?