“Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It’s self-conscious, and anything self conscious is lousy. You can’t try to do things. You simply must do things.”
-Ray Bradbury
For those that don’t know, Stephen King started writing stories when he was a kid, eventually publishing in his brother’s school newspaper, Dave’s Rag, and selling stories to classmates. One of them, a horror story, landed him in the principal’s office.
His teacher, Miss Hisler, was disappointed in what he’d written.
“What I don’t understand, Stevie, is why you’d write junk like that in the first place. You’re talented. Why do you want to waste your abilities?”
He had no answer for her, and in his book On Writing, he details the shame that settled in him then.
“I was ashamed. I have spent a good many years since, too many I think, being ashamed about what I write. I think I was 40 before I realized that almost every writer of fiction and poetry who has ever published a line has been accused by someone of wasting his or her God-given talent. If you write (or paint or dance or sculpt or sing, I suppose), someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that’s all.”
It’s hard to imagine from the best selling author, one of the most prolific writers of our time. He has defended genre fiction against giants in the literary community. Endured their critique of him as a guy who writes just for the money, a soulless non-artist out to make a buck. And after over 75 novels, 200 short stories, and 87 movie and TV adaptations, he has arguably had the last word.
I think any creator can understand the feeling, but horror (and maybe I only feel this way because I write it) has a special place of shame, especially in the writing world. It has the same place in the outside world too.
Recently, I met a neighbor at a community pool. Our kids, it turns out, go to school together. She was eager to chat about them for a while, the classes, the teachers, until she wandered on to what she’s been reading recently.
I have to admit I perked up. I love to talk about stories. The ones I’m reading or watching. Strange ones my friends tell me, or funny ones that happen while I’m running errands. I asked her what kinds of books she reads.
“Mostly self-help.”
Oh. I hope I stayed friendly, but I was pretty disappointed. I had been hoping she would mention thrillers, suspense, true crime, horror, science fiction, fantasy, literature, non-fiction, memoirs, or presidential biographies. Anything but that.
(And I’ll pause here and say I’m sure there’s great ones out there, and if it’s your passion, go for it. But it’s not what I was hoping to hear that day.)
“And some romance novels.”
Well that was better. We talked about one she was in the middle of. A wife unsatisfied with her life, a distant husband. I was crossing my fingers for time travel or a werewolf mistress, but I’ll take it. Then came the dreaded question.
“What do you like to read?”
I laughed a little.
“Horror.”
“Oh!” she actually exclaimed. “Wow. I like how you just said that. Horror.”
Needless to say, she didn’t ask what I was reading.
Now listen, I’m not whining about it. Plenty of people like horror. Why else would Stephen King be one of the best selling authors? (Besides his wonderful writing). People like to be surprised. They like to be scared.
To be pulled out of the mundane and put in impossible situations. Thrown about. Afraid they’ll never crawl out of the hole the author has put them in. Only to come out of it. Maybe the characters are dead. Maybe the villain is victorious. But the story ends at some point. You make it to the other side.
But…
You knew that was coming right? There’s still something a little embarrassing about it. When you say you like horror and a person’s lips turn funny, when they try to smile but can’t wait to stop talking about it, when you know they’re wondering what kind of psychopath you are for enjoying such dark stories, it’s no wonder.
I don’t only like dark stories. I like them all to be honest. I like historical non-fiction and historical fiction. I like The Office and I like slow indie films. I love comedy and I love dystopian novels. Pride and Prejudice had me hanging on the edge of my seat. I would skip work to watch Braveheart. I love slashers and slow burn romances and stupid comedies like Meet Joe Dirt and insightful teen dramas like The Breakfast Club. I love stories.
But if I have my choice, I want to either die laughing, or I want to feel like I’ll never sleep again. As I write that, I’m sure there’s something in there for a therapist to give me insight on, but it turns out I’m not alone. I was surprised to hear that comedy and horror are considered cousins in literature and movies.
I liked hearing that. I don’t know if it made me feel vindicated or what, but it rang true. Then, today, I listened to Louis C.K. on a podcast and heard him say this remarkable thing about standup comedy.
“It’s like with standup. Ideas that upset people. What we do that I love, that’s like a religion for me, I would die for it, is that you take people to a place that they hate. That scares them or offends them. Makes them feel bad when they think about it. You take them to that part of their brain and you make them laugh there.”
I heard those words and it hit me. That is what horror is as well. I mulled the thought over and realized that it’s not just horror. Any honest and vulnerable portrayal, particularly of those parts of human nature and ourselves that we hate, that we push under the rug, ignore and pacify, any of that brought to the surface and confronted in art is powerful.
If we write based on shame, then our work will never be able to take us or others to those deep places. The dark places. The hidden places. We will never be able to confront death. Fear. Love. Loss. Deep pain. True joy. Monotony. Boredom. Sex. Lies. Friendship. Marriage. Loneliness. Monsters. Nightmares. Regret. Hope. We will never really be able to say anything.
If you want a wonderful, encouraging speech on writing authentically, watch Ray Bradbury here. He was 81 in this video, and the joy that pours out of him brings tears to my eyes. If you’ve been waiting to go for it, to pursue your idea, end it now. Don’t think. Write.
This was very well-written and motivating!!! Thank you for this.