John Steinbeck's writing advice.

1-Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then when it gets finished, you are always surprised.

2-Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper. Never correct or rewrite until the whole thing is down. Rewrite in process is usually found to be an excuse for not going on. It also interferes with flow and rhythm which can only come from a kind of unconscious association with the material.

3-Forget your generalized audience. In the first place, the nameless, faceless audience will scare you to death and in the second place, unlike the theater, it doesn’t exist. In writing, your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one person—a real person you know, or an imagined person and write to that one.

4-If a scene or a section gets the better of you and you still think you want it—bypass it and go on. When you have finished the whole you can come back to it and then you may find that the reason it gave trouble is because it didn’t belong there.

5-Beware of a scene that becomes too dear to you, dearer than the rest. It will usually be found that it is out of drawing.

6-If you are using dialogue—say it aloud as you write it. Only then will it have the sound of speech.

But perhaps most paradoxically yet poetically, twelve years prior — in 1963, immediately after receiving the Nobel Prize in Literature “for his realistic and imaginative writings, combining as they do sympathetic humour and keen social perception” — Steinbeck issued a thoughtful disclaimer to all such advice:

If there is a magic in story writing, and I am convinced there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another. The formula seems to lie solely in the aching urge of the writer to convey something he feels important to the reader. If the writer has that urge, he may sometimes, but by no means always, find the way to do it. You must perceive the excellence that makes a good story good or the errors that makes a bad story. For a bad story is only an ineffective story.”

Steinbeck is one of my favourite authors and his advice given years ago in an Paris Review interview is as valid today as it ever was.

MAYA

“THE World is Maya, an illusion; fools, don’t chase after the transient, it will cause heartache. Follow the holy path, its difficult brothers and sisters but if you’re vigilant, nothing can delude you. You are free, eternal and full of bliss; don’t become attached to petty material objects. Look to me for inspiration, I’ve taken Sanyasa and donned the ochre robes. I’m only twenty-five with life before me and yet if I can succeed then all of you can!”

     Spontaneous applause filled the hall for the Swami, who had entered the monastic order just a year ago. He was an eloquent speaker, knowledgeable but he forbade anyone from touching him; this would have polluted his sense of worth. People fell at his feet from a distance. He was a strict vegetarian and berated everyone for their worldly attachments to relatives and wealth. Give them up! He exclaimed everywhere.

Of course people admired such detachment but complained that his advice was extreme. On several occasions the Swami had grown angry at this perceived weakness. He was an expert on the Bhagavad Gita as well as other holy texts. He read them to impress his listeners.

     In July, he came to a village. A young woman of nineteen was assigned to serve the Swami his food. She had large eyes, dark hair and comely hips. She placed the plate in front of him and would say nothing apart from ‘would Swami like anything else?’ He liked her sincere attitude and service. Each night after the sermon, he made her sit and gave her religious knowledge. She sat gazing boldly into his eyes.

The Swami extended his stay and the people were delighted. He wanted to teach the young woman more topics as she was an eager student. When he asked her after six days whether she had understood his teachings, she replied that she didn’t care for them at all. He was astonished.

She grabbed his hand and at the touch electricity passed through him. She had fallen madly in love she said and would commit suicide if he left without her. Then she embraced him and kissed him passionately on the lips. He tried to push her back without success.

The next day, villagers were shaking their heads in amazement. They saw the Swami skipping lightly after the wide eyed beauty in a field, happy and full of joy.

ps. This was a lighthearted short story I wrote and was selected in the Inspired by Tagore Competition. I hope people who visit this site enjoy it. Vijay Medtia.