“The job which the writer is doing is to tell you a moving story of the human heart in conflict.”
–William Faulkner
That’s a pretty simple and — for Faulkner — straightforward sentence. But there’s a lot going on it. I like the fact that Faulkner calls writing a “job” — sometimes that feels like what it is, and if you’re a journalist, that’s exactly what it is. In either case, it’s work. I’d like to say that writing is something I just do, that comes naturally, but the truth is, it’s work. And it takes a certain amount of discipline and focus. Not Marine Corps discipline (but it helps). When I was writing A Simple Murder, I did it one hour at a time, every night. After putting in a day in the newsroom and eating supper and getting the kids to bed (they were small then), I would sit down to spend an hour, minimum, writing, whether I wanted to or not. And certainly whether I felt inspired or not. I just did it. Most nights I found myself going well over an hour, but that wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t forced myself to sit down and get an hour in.
Next, Faulkner said the writer’s job is tell a moving story. Not just a story, but one that moves the reader. That’s where a lot of hours writing amount up to squat — and a lot of rewrites trying to get it right. In other words, working. It took me a couple of tries to understand this — that’s it not the plot of a story that matters, it’s the story itself. If that doesn’t hold a reader, then you’ve failed your first duty as a writer. Which leads to the really hard part:
The human heart in conflict. It took me even longer, and only under the instruction of a terrific writer, to learn that the craft of fiction — the beauty of it — is that there has to be conflict for the story to work. Real conflict. I think that’s probably the hardest part for most writers today, in a world of commercialized fiction (in print and on screen), where the story is too often a plot and the conflict involves a physical conflict between a hero and a villain. And in Hollywood, this story usually ends in a nice little bow — boy gets the girl, common guy sticks it to the man. True, it’s a formula that works for entertainment. But it’s not realistic — it doesn’t represent the true human condition. Which, as Faulkner said, is often a human heart in conflict. And that’s what makes it real. That’s why a movie like Sling Blade works and Iron Man doesn’t.
Now, I have to admit that my first two novels were not exactly in line with Faulkner’s vision — more Iron Man than Sling Blade. That’s why it’s called a craft. You have to learn it, practice it, hone it, and try. And try. And try again. That’s what I’m doing with my current manuscript, Deep Blood.
More on that later.
Phillip Thompson 