This post is part of Art & Craft, my series that reviews books about writing books.
The following is my Art & Craft review of Writing to Sell by the late Scott Meredith, an agent who not only founded his own agency but represented sci-fi legends including Arthur C. Clarke and Philip K. Dick.
Why I chose this book
Strange that one of the first books I picked up for this series is a dated, probably out-of-print book first published in 1950 (my version was revised in 1974). There are countless more popular and much more recent craft books, but I picked up this one because of a tweet. A recently debuted author claimed that a prominent agent recommended this book, and it ended up being his breakthrough, the only craft book that made sense to him (but with much recognition for the subjectivity of these things).
I was also intrigued by the idea of “golden age” expertise, at least from a historical perspective. I conducted extensive research for the Archestypist podcast to understand how the science fiction genre has evolved in the past 70 years. But as I read, and now as I review, I’m keeping my grain of salt handy.
There might be some risk of internalizing outdated and irrelevant professional practices or expectations. Naturally, no one is going to think regularly brushing the goo off the keys of your typewriter to produce a clear manuscript is still applicable advice, but do readers still have the same expectations? Do editors and agents have the same tastes?
My unscientific survey of one says no.
The highlights
I like reading about how to write, and keep writing, and write some more
The section which most resonated with me was Inspiration, Perspiration, Desperation. In this chapter, Meredith addresses how to cultivate a lifestyle and confront obstacles that keep you from writing. Reading sections like this validates me, because my life is only getting more hectic. As a new mom, I only have the writing time I schedule and I only have the creative energy I intentionally foster. I take care of my mental and physical health because my creative brain will suffer if I don’t. I block social media, swiping and scrolling, and other addictive content on my phone and give my brain space to just be bored and daydream so that ideas and thoughts can trickle in. I converted from a night owl to a morning chickadee to create time when I wouldn’t be distracted.
If you’re asking yourself how to get more writing done the answer lies in time management, habit, and mindset.
Where to start?
And in the Beginning… might have been the only section that caused me to pause and reflect on my own work. He describes three different options for where to start a novel, and why you might want to choose each one. Essentially, where does the book open relative to the inciting incident: at the start of the problem, just before the problem, or immediately after the problem?
“If you have an idea for an introductory pre-problem scene which seems to you to do very well the double job of introduction the lead character interestingly while it emphasizes the gravity or blackness of the subsequent problem (by showing the comparative brightness of things before the problem arrived), then the pre-problem opening is the one to use. If the arrival of the problem itself seems to be more interesting and dramatic than the events immediately preceding it, or than a description of the lead character’s post-problem reactions, then the just-as-the-problem-arrives opening is best. And if a description of the lead character’s reaction to the problem, or his first move to solve the problem, strikes you as the more dramatic event in the script you’re planning, then by all means start with the just-after-the-problem-has-come-up opening.” [pages 151-152]
Based on my personal and peer critique experience, the temptation for many authors lies in beginning the story too early, with pages and even chapters of worldbuilding and exposition leading up to the inciting incident. The underlying theme here is clear: start as close to that incident as possible, and have a clear intention for your starting point.
The cringe
Standard suggestions on story structure
Almost the entire second half of this book is dedicated to different aspects of a work of fiction. I found his analysis of an effective plot to be fairly standard. He covers the introduction of conflict, escalating stakes, complications, the character’s dark moment (or final sandbag, crisis point) in an accessible way though not particularly insightful fashion. Some chapters, such as the section that discusses choosing a POV or executing an effective flashback, might serve as helpful essays to orient young writers (who may read voraciously but not critically). I can imagine a tenured creative writing professor marking up a student’s pages, then asking his work study to manually scan the pages of ones of these chapters to assign as reading.
Don’t trip between these gaps on character-building
In his sections on characterization and motivation, Scott Meredith’s advice implies that writers should neglect character arcs and employ stereotypes. May I present some quotes:
“If you build up a character as a timid person who turns pale every time he has to cross a busy intersection… you can’t suddenly, for no visible reason, have him change into an intrepid person who grins as he turns to face an escaped lion… Your motivation, in short, will be sound only if the character only acts typically–always acts like the kind of person you have shown him to be.” [page 107]
On the face this might make sense, you need to check your character’s actions and decisions based on the personality and motivation you’ve chosen. But here Meredith is missing (and never addresses in this book) how the events of the narrative change the characters. Stories often feature the coward who finally does something brave or the angry warrior who becomes vulnerable. Or hey, may you want to explore a reverse arc and write a villain origin story, that’s cool. But it’s that internal evolution that can make characters intriguing.
I’ll pick on his flat character advice again with this quote:
“I have mentioned one of the opportunities for different types of characterization in clothing; there are many others. A girl who wears too much makeup, no brassiere, and a dress which is several sizes too tight and features and extremely low-cut neckline is characterized almost immediately; though there may be exceptions to the rule, it is doubtful that her favorite sport is singing in church socials.” [pages 174-175]
I don’t have enough fingers to count the number of girls I know who love both thick eyeliner and Jesus. So after processing how little I give a fuck about Scott Meredith’s opinions on make up choices and whether I wear a “brassiere”, I would argue that novels are powerful tools against stereotypes. We write about interesting people, “exceptions to rules”, and diverse, complex people. There is something to be said about adding small details to stories to imply aspects of character, but I would encourage writers to subvert assumptions and break down cardboard cutouts and writing a “type” of a person.
Star-ratings
You can read more on my system here, but I’ll give Writing to Sell:
How useful is this craft book?
1(.5?) out of 3 stars - ★☆☆
How humble is this craft book?
2 out of 3 stars - ★★☆
How concise is this craft book?
2 out of 3 stars - ★★☆
I’ll close with this gem from the beginning of the book, which I did appreciate:
“There used to be a very popular theory, now steadily lessening in popularity because it has been proved incorrect over and over again, that a writer must start by writing genre novels… and then graduate, finally, to “literary” works… In other words, a man whose favorite type of novel is strictly the general mainstream can only delay his success by forcing himself to write, for example, science fiction novels.” [page 6]
Scott Meredith goes on to say this is just a waste of time and you should write what speaks to you, but as a representative of sci-fi masters I wish he debunked this further. Imagine believing that sci-fi is the most approachable genre as a new writer… when you must develop a compelling plot, design memorable characters, hone your prose AND fully create an immersive new world.
70+ years later we’re still scrubbing the residue of this theory from the literary world, despite SFFs breakthrough into popular culture, despite astounding literary sci-fi works like Station Eleven, Never Let Me Go, and The Left Hand of Darkness. But good luck calling your work “science fiction” and getting into a funded MFA program.