Okay, first off, I'm going to suggest you endure a rerun. When you've got a moment, go back and re-read that column from 2016. Why? Because a lot of people have been talking around the site about how to rev up their Guide Entry writing, and those thoughts of mine haven't changed in two years. That's all I have to say about that. SashaQ and I had a chat about it the other day, and we're on the same page: we don't want to have that conversation again and again. On to the next topic.

Now, you want to write new, and interesting, and above all innovative Stuff. If you don't, why are you here? You have ideas. You are a wild and crazy writer. The question is: how do you get people to read it? At this point, you think I'm going to talk about how to put the Stuff out there. I am not. You see, the answer to How do I get people to read this? really begins with How do I write it? If readers stay away in droves, you may not be approaching the writing part right. That's why we're here.

Lately, I've been catching up on an old television series that I hadn't seen before. Kung Fu, the original series, was running while I was at university and didn't have time to watch television. During part of its run, I was out of the country. So I'm really enjoying this. The acting is first-rate, and if the production values aren't up to 21st-century standards, frankly, this bothers me not. I can live with the occasional glimpse of an electrical transformer or jet contrail in the Old West. Just give me a good story – and this series does. Of course, it helps that at least one of the writers worked for Star Trek.

What makes this series so remarkable is the way in which the plotlines deviate from the expected. There's a mine cave-in. What's the payoff? Heroic action to free the trapped miners? No. An equally heroic dog/cat/horse? (I'm kidding about the cat.) No. Revenge on the low-life who caused the cave-in? In a word, no. The point, of course, is the form of self-knowledge achieved by the trapped miners as they trust the Shaolin priest, control their breathing, and meditate, thus saving their oxygen until they can be rescued. I can dig it.

How do you write something like that? First of all, you start with what the audience knows. It's a Western. The audience knows clichés. This series has the usual repertoire of redneck yahoos, saloons, dance hall girls, rampant prejudice, greedy gold and silver miners, feckless gamblers, and hostile Apaches (okay, sometimes they're Utes, it's a big state, California). There's even the dreaded quicksand and the occasional overexcited rattlesnake, although so far, nobody has tried to convey nitroglycerine across the mountains in a springless wagon, for which I am grateful. Audiences knew these plots. They could relate. They also knew where they were supposed to go.

That's trick number two. Once you have their attention, and they think you know where you're going, do not go there. This is an approach Master Po would have approved of. Change direction. The story about the gambler who is shot to death for his big winnings turns out not to be about the gambler, or the money, or even solving the crime. It turns out to be about the gambler's wife: her need for mourning and self-knowledge and trust. Wow. Didn't see that coming.

You don't have to start with a Western – and unless you know a saguaro cactus from a Coryphantha recurvata, I suggest you don't. It doesn't have to be genre fiction at all. Or even fiction. But it's a very good trick to remember: people won't read you unless you start someplace they can find on their mental maps. Once you've got their attention, remember to do something unexpected. It could be a big thing, or a small thing. But set off in a different direction from the usual beaten path. Remember to mark your steps. Take them along with you. And make sure the destination is worth the journey.

Like the gambler's wife, readers have trust issues. Too many writers have let them down. Don't you be one of them. Earn their trust, and then don't violate it. Write them a story, poem, or article that rewards them for their investment. After all, they let you into their living rooms, onto their computer screens, into their minds and imaginations. There's an unwritten contract there, no matter whether money has changed hands or not. Writing: a sacred trust, and a solemn duty.

Also, if you do it right, a whole lot of fun and its own reward.

Writing Right with Dmitri Archive

Dmitri Gheorgheni

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