Part of growing and maturing as a reader and especially as a book reviewer, is learning to understand the difference between writing that you don’t like, and writing that is bad. They’re frequently not the same thing. When I was a young reviewer, I was embarrassingly prone to knee-jerk reactions, labeling media as “good”, “bad”, or “boring” based on my tastes. As I’ve grown up, mellowed out, and consumed a wider range of media, I’ve become more nuanced in my opinions. But I also still occasionally come across work that I should like, and that I completely fail to connect with, even as others rave about it and nominate it for awards.
In an effort to learn to recognize and navigate my biases, and be a better reader, reviewer, and freelance editor (as well as hopefully a better fiction writer someday), I picked up a copy of Craft in the Real World by Matthew Salesses.
The subtitle for this book is “Rethinking fiction writing and workshopping”, and it is written for writers and instructors, but I feel like anyone who wants to have a better understanding of the “rules” that govern American fiction would be well-advised to pick this up and give it a read.
What is “Craft” and Why Does it Matter?
In the literary world, “craft” refers to the construction of a story. It’s a shorthand for a variety of rules which are taught to us from possibly the first time we sit down to write a story in grade school. These aren’t just the rules of grammar, but rules of style and plot as well. They include things like “Show don’t tell” and to avoid using dialog tags other than “said” or “asked” (honestly, I’ve even had people resist “asked”, under the belief that a question mark makes it clear that it’s being asked). The goal of craft largely seems to be to make the writing invisible, so that it fades into the background of the story.
I was surprised to learn that a lot of the ideas of craft which I had learned over the years dated back to the founding of the first MFA program, the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, which was established in 1936. I was not surprised to learn that the ideas of craft had largely been established by white, straight, cis, middle-class men with an education. I was slightly surprised that the idea of craft was to turn writing into a commodity and make sure that writers didn’t become a bunch of filthy Commies. That’s mid-century America for you.
Salesses argues, rather persuasively, that this focus on a set of “craft” rules developed by a very specific dominant subset of humanity can be very detrimental to writers who fall outside of that group. He also points out that a “craft” ruleset designed specifically for literary fiction can lead to alienation for genre writers, an experience which I have had first-hand.
Rethinking Craft
So how can we rethink craft? Should we just throw out the rules and write with total anarchy?
Salesses argues for a new definition of craft, which respects traditions from outside of the white American cis-het middle class male paradigm.
In the first section of the book, Salesses examines the current rules of craft and proposes alternatives which allow for more viewpoints. Because he reads, writes, and teaches Asian and Asian American literature, he uses a lot of examples from such authors to make his points, although he also looks at African and African American and Indigenous examples, as well as touching occasionally on genre fiction.
The second section of the book suggests alternative ways to run a writing workshop and/or a writing class or group which involves some elements of workshopping. His ideas were so intriguing that I found myself desperately wanting to enroll in a workshop using some of these methods, while simultaneously making me dread the possibility of once again getting stuck in a class full of people who didn’t know how to appreciate genre fiction or other voices that fell outside of their idea of craft.
Did This Book Help Me?
As I was finishing my read-through of Craft in the Real World, I started reading The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa. Having learned about some of the literary traditions favored in Japan, I found I had a better understand of the author’s approach to craft. It allowed me to enjoy the book for what it was, rather than thinking of the ways it failed to live up to the craft expectations I’ve spent my whole life learning by consuming mostly American fiction.
I have a feeling I will always have certain preferences for my fiction reading; I find certain narrative styles more immersive than others. But I also feel like having read Craft in the Real World, I’m going to better be able to approach fiction that falls outside of my expectations, and I think I’ll learn how to appreciate other styles of craft that I didn’t understand before.
I also feel like this book is going to make me a much better editor, as it’s given me some great tools for discussing projects with authors and getting an idea of how they want to express themselves, rather than trying to push them into a certain mold.
Finally, once I feel ready to dip my toes back in to writing my own fiction again, I look forward to trying some of the revision exercises included in the book, in order to look at my story from many different angles.
Whether you’re a writer, a teacher, an editor, or just a reader who wants to have a better understanding of how books are written, I think it’s worth having a copy of this on your bookshelf and/or eReader.
Affiliate link disclaimer: Links in this post may be Bookshop.org affiliate links. If you make a purchase through such a link, I’ll get a small commission which will help fund my book buying habits. You’ll also be supporting independent bookstores. However, when I published this review, Craft in the Real World was backordered on Bookshop.org, so you may want to try purchasing it directly from an indie bookstore near you.