Learning the Craft from Other Sources

Writing is a specific activity, an art form where the most apt will be introverts and those who can’t quench their thirst for getting their stories out and finding their voice through words.

The common advice given to new writers is to write a lot and read a lot (as Stephen King once famously said in On Writing).

Sticking to one medium to make something and say something to the world.

This isn’t awful advice, and it makes total sense.

But I believe in learning from all sorts of sources.

Learning from others in other fields.

Sure, the still-frame artistry of modern films doesn’t translate into the written word congruently between the art forms, but you can learn much from what films do even in one tiny frame.

That one frame might tell you untold stories of information that makes the entire film make sense.

A splendid example of someone using another art form to invigorate their own is Hideo Kojima, the famous creator of the Metal Gear series.

No matter what you might think about his newer projects, that series is famous for feeling like a movie that the player plays. Back in 1999, I was in elementary school and stumbled upon the first game (of the Solid series) from a friend from across the street—well, he had “taken” it from his older uncle and “loaned” it to me—and I was blown away. The storyline was better than most movies I had ever seen, and the lore of Snake versus each member of FOXHOUND turned terrorists was incredible, especially the last twists.

Sure, I wasn’t as old as I should have been to appreciate the nuances of the story (or the bloodshed, my poor nine-year-old brain), but it showed me the medium could be something more than most people had relegated it to.

Kojima had mixed games with his love of movies. He did it his way, and the success followed.

I don’t play video games much these days, but the storytelling present in games such as Final Fantasy X has forever shaped my own storytelling.

As such, I follow developers and game writers because there are unorthodox methods within their frameworks that I think translate well into novels. At least, if you want to have a unique flavor to them.

Masahiro Sakurai, the creator of Kirby and Super Smash Bros., is also someone I look up to regarding work ethic and artisan-style flavor. His YouTube channel taught me more about writing than any craft book ever has, and it is a treasure trove for those who might want to tackle writing novels with a different mindset.

The man had some free time and then decided he would spend hours upon hours creating a YouTube channel to help future developers with his wisdom until his next project. He worked on drafts for scripts for a month straight, refusing to spend his time without doing something productive.

Then, when his newest project started, he continued to work on both his channel and his new project for an average of 18 hours a day.

That’s dedication.

But his wisdom translates well into writing novels. His work ethic translates well into writing novels, too, perhaps telling us writers that we need to step it up.

I no longer believe writing quickly gets intended results as far as prose goes, seeing as if you write 8,000 words a day 5,000 of them might be dross, but using that same work ethic to refine and polish the books no matter the word count will lead to prolific, and excellent results.

Changing gears, what if you learned how to market from a cologne company?

From studying, tracing the steps of those entrepreneurs who have walked the road to success before you, too?

Cologne and writing don’t seem related to each other, but cologne draws people in because of sensory overload, using one of the five senses. This translates into writing, because we must get the readers to feel as though they smell the rain through the tropical forest as the villains give chase using only our words and experiences.

Their marketing campaigns often make the consumer feel as though they must have it. There’s a certain panache that comes with the territory.

If we use this line of thinking, we’ll get somewhere with it, seeing as even traditional authors need to know a bit about marketing these days.

And as far as creativity goes, why not learn from your own childhood?

When you stayed out until the streetlights came on with your friends and you made up magical adventures with a sandbox type of freedom to it.

There were no rules, which is what I’m trying to say.

A writing group can give advice, sure, but that’s writing by committee. You, as an artist, should trust in your own art with unshakeable confidence. The concept of beta, gamma, etc. readers is strange to me, because that’s having other people who aren’t the author say what’s best for your own art.

It’s not that feedback is bad—editors, for example—it’s that something like a novel is personal to you and will best shine through for others if you trust yourself as an artist.

Writing advice has its place. The medium has its delightful canvas of word choice, but it might be best to step outside the medium for unorthodox ways of writing your novel.

I’m not saying it’s a good idea, but what if your novel had scented paper for each setting that gave the reader an idea of what the characters could smell as they entered each biome?

Weird?

Yes.

But it’s unorthodox.

And unorthodox is the path to success.

It’s been said many times that something hasn’t been done before, and that it makes no sense to try because it will never work.

Then it works, and the unorthodox path opens new opportunities for expressing your art.

Don’t learn from writing alone.

Expand your skill set by learning from other mediums.

Rich expression comes from a variety of methods, not one.