A Story Worth Writing

In an article titled “All Stories Are the Same” in The Atlantic Monthly, John Yorke claims that if you want to write a good story, you must read story craft: read about how to write. “Every form of artistic composition like any language, has a grammar, and that grammar, that structure, is not just a construct – it’s the most beautiful and intricate expression of the workings of the human mind.”

I’m not sure what I think about this. I love to write, and I think I am good at it. I create characters filled with life. My fellow writers in NEPA Creative Writers say I write believable dialogue. When I create a story, whether a short story or novel-length fiction, I often have a basic outline sketched out before I even start, or I’ll sometimes have a few scenes that run through my mind like a movie trailer.

But I have never taken a course of any kind on fiction writing. I am a good writer who would like to be better, so must I seek to learn about writing? Thus far, I have learned about writing intuitively and deductively, reading the genres I enjoy and using the good and leaving the bad when I write my own.

One thing I have noticed is that it is always the same story, same format, even same characters. They may have different names and occupations, but when you read the mystery genre, you always have the same archetypes or stereotypes: the brusque investigator who gets on everyone’s nerves or the investigator who breaks the rules, the flawed hero, the worthy opponent, and the dissolute character who has a job in solving crime but uses something or someone to escape the inevitable pain he encounters every day. And in terms of story arc, there are certain repeated tools/structures/storylines: the supposedly dead show up to reveal they weren’t really dead; some unexpected familial relationship is revealed to put another, romantic relationship in a quandary.

While this lack of originality is sad, what is sadder is that I keep reading it.

Sadder still: I see it in my own writing.

So what is the solution? I guess I must first start with a question: what is my purpose for writing mystery novels? Is it to make money? Is it to craft a remarkable story that will join the shelves with such classics as Jane Eyre, Rebecca, and Lady in White? If my goal is simply to entertain today’s reader, then what I have been doing is probably good enough. And that is not to disparage today’s reader; I, after all, am one of them.

Perhaps, though, I need to participate in a class or seminar or conference to broaden my scope and learn from other excellent writers. In my heart of hearts it isn’t enough to be published; I want to be remembered. I want my stories to resonate so loudly that one generation shares them with another.

This is hubris, no doubt, but don’t all writers believe they have a story worth telling?

I want mine to be a story worth reading.