The pen may be mightier than the sword, but is it mightier than apathy?
—Kathryn Estrada
You guys. You’re like balm to the editorial soul.
So let’s take this one step further. If good writing is writing that will last, what specifically does that mean?
We know from our discussion of the PW best seller list that a talented writer like Stephen King can still be a blockbuster. We also know that a writer who produces flabby characterization, cliche action and description, and shallow motivation like Mary Higgins Clark can also be a blockbuster. There is no reliable relationship between money and quality.
Jamie has given us a minimum requirement: “‘technically good’ writing – i.e., grammatically correct, proper punctuation.”
I will agree and add my minimum requirement: free of cliches. That means cliche exposition, in which we’re treated to the writer’s ideas, based upon what passes for “right thinking” in this culture at this moment in time, rather than the product of their senses and deeper understanding of their experience here in this mortal coil. It means cliche description, in which female protagonists are always sweet and girlish and male protagonists always tough and manly, all roses are perfumed, all sunsets are glorious, all hearts thrill, pound, and bleed. It also means cliche actions like “grab,” “flop,” stride,” “throb,” “glower,” and “tearing oneself from an embrace.” More than anything, though, it means cliche thinking, stories that guilelessly follow the lifestyle standards set by the advertising industry, telling us nothing new about humanity and, in fact, reinforcing two-dimensional stereotypes that marginalize the real, messy, contradictory, unattractive, insecure, puzzled humanity that lives inside every individual on this earth. Thinking that encourages prejudice against anything that varies from the status quo.
Thinking that pretends being human isn’t as unspeakably complicated as it really is.
What about the rest of you? What are your standards for good writing? You say, “Good writing is writing that lasts,” but since we can’t time-travel, we don’t know what that means for writing that’s being published today. Do you mean, “Writing my college literature professor would like?”
Or can you put it into more detailed terms?
(P.S. Lori, we live on the Redwood Coast. You know—where the housewives are loggers and the loggers are environmentalists and the environmentalists are freaking bonkers.)