Essential Books about the Craft of Writing
Written by Wren True
For writers there’s nothing more interesting than learning about how other people write. Countless books have been written about the process. A lot of them are good—others, not so much. Here’s a short list of some of my personal favorites, a variety that’s sure to have something for everyone.
Aspects of the Novel, E. M. Forster
Originally a series of lectures given in 1927 in Cambridge, Aspects of the Novel is a compact, short read that’s full of Forster’s genius and wit. It contains eight chapters, each one focused on a different topic. If you’re a writer and/or a fan of E. M. Forster, author of A Room with a View (1908) and Maurice (1971), then you’ll enjoy these lectures very much. He even has a chapter dedicated to the fantasy genre, in which he relates people “disinclined” to read it as simply unwilling to pay attention. He writes in the introduction, “I have chosen the title ‘Aspects’ because it is unscientific and vague, because it leaves us the maximum of freedom, because it means both the different ways we can look at a novel and the different ways a novelist can look at his work.”
Since they were lectures first, the text isn’t rambling or difficult to understand; in fact it’s almost conversational. It feels like Forster is talking directly to you. Whether you’re working on a novel or something else entirely, this is a solid choice.
Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination, Toni Morrison
I recommend this to everyone, but especially white writers. In order to understand how whiteness has dominated the literary world and fundamentally everything we’re taught to read in Western society, this book is key. Also a response to lectures, Playing in the Dark is Morrison in her usual form—nothing short of direct and eloquent. If you gloss over reviews of this book, you’ll come across words like “provocative” and “daring,” but any critique of American literature should automatically include books such as this one, texts which dissect the white gaze down to the bone.
She writes, in the conclusion, “All of us, readers and writers, are bereft when criticism remains too polite or too fearful to notice a disrupting darkness before its eyes.” While not exactly about the craft of writing, I’d argue that this book is still essential for writers. Anyone who is a fan of Morrison or her novels will be able to recognize her voice straightaway and be assured that they will learn more.
On Writing, Stephen King
This one will appear on many lists and be recommended to you probably a dozen times. Whether or not you like Stephen King, On Writing is a worthwhile endeavor. Semi-autobiographical, hilariously written, and relatable, King gives the writer refreshing advice. It’s not exactly anything you haven’t heard before, but it’s nice coming from someone with so much success, isn’t it? I bought my copy before embarking on my master’s program, and it’s a very loved copy, thick with dog-eared pages and messy with underlines. I’ve never read a Stephen King novel, but it kind of feels like I have!
Within the early sections of this book, King writes, “If you write… someone will try to make you feel lousy about it, that’s all.” I’m certain, as writers, we can all attest to at least once in our lives when someone doubted us, or was generally confused about our career choice. Except this book won’t make you feel lousy—it might actually embolden you to shake it off, and write the damn draft already.
A Swim in a Pond in the Rain, George Saunders
To make this list as rounded as possible, I wanted to include at least one book published in this decade. I’ve decided that Saunders’s A Swim in a Pond in the Rain is just the one.
This book is unique in that Saunders puts into words a sample of what he teaches at Syracuse University. Within are seven short stories written by a few of the Russian greats, and in between each short story is a methodical and detailed examination as to how and why they “work.” It’s kind of like if a writing seminar was contained in book form, without the opinions of your fellow students, or making shots in the dark because your professor would rather have you guess than tell you anything. Saunders writes with witty humor and language that’s easy to understand. It’s an incredibly informative and deep analysis of the short story form, and writing in general, directly from the author of Lincoln in the Bardo (2017) and Tenth of December (2013).
Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke
I saved this one for last because you’ve either already read it or you’ve heard of it. Letters to a Young Poet is indeed a classic when it comes to books on craft. Being extremely quotable helps. It is, to its core, an ode to art itself. Rilke was very much of the opinion that death was the sole alternative to art—suggesting that if you somehow couldn’t write, you would rather die.
What’s fun about this one is that you can experiment with different translations. Not that one translation will be drastically different than another, it’s just worth remembering that Rilke didn’t write his letters in English. He wrote them to be read by a young German man wondering if he could call himself a poet. And that in itself is what makes these letters precious—and transcendent of age and time. These letters are just as impressionable now as they were in 1929.
If none of the items on this list has sparked your interest, fret not. There’s hundreds of books out there about writing. And if all else fails, remember that reading terrible books is just as informative as reading good ones. You can learn a lot from the mistakes of others, and even feel better about yourself. It’s important for writers to feel better about themselves sometimes. There’s so little room for confidence when your head is packed with rejections, doubt, writer’s block, etc. Allow the voices of past and present writers to fuel you on your journey.
With that, I’ll end this with the best writing advice I’ve ever read, from which I haven’t recovered since: “All you have to do is to write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.” – Ernest Hemingway