‘Write What You Know’ is one of the oldest pieces of writing advice around. Even folks who’ve never even planned to write a book have heard that bit of ageless wisdom. Where did it come from? Why has it survived when other advice has faded? Was it meant to hurt my feelings? I don’t know the answers but I do have a theory: I believe it survives today in order to scare aspiring writers. Write What You Know sounds restrictive as all hell. But it need not be. Let’s flip the script and look at the old advice in a new way; maybe, instead of feeling restricted, we can feel empowered.
Or maybe it’s saying, Hey, that tragedy your family endured? why don’t you tell me about that?
Taken at face value, “Write What You Know” sounds like it’s telling retail workers to write about retail, doctors to write medical dramas, and so on.And on some level, even this is worthwhile advice. If you can fit your real world experiences into your fiction in an interesting way, you should. You’ve lived a life that we haven’t and I’m sure you have stories to tell and observations to share. Have at it. There is glory to be found in addressing your own hardships and turning them into a story. If that story can help others, even better. But this doesn’t feel freeing yet, does it? We’re still locked down by Write What You Know like it’s asking for your direct, firsthand experience.
I say to you that I know monsters. Kaiju, Cronenbergian deformities, creatures from swampy lagoons; I know ’em and I love ’em. I know my favorite genres well. I can name five horror authors who aren’t Stephen King that are worth reading at any given moment and tell you what new sci-fi movie you should definitely go see (Annihilation was amazing, y’all).
By comparison, I couldn’t name one good romance novel for you to read and it’d take me a few minutes to come up with a new comedy to recommend. I know what I know and I also admit that my knowledge has its limits. I can write what I know – horror, sci-fi, dark fantasy – but I’m not stepping foot into romance territory. Romance is for somebody else to write. I wish ’em well. They’re writing what they know, based on years of reading and exploring their favorite genre’s themes, just like I’m doing with my stuff (and they’re probably making more money doing it, too!).
We need not only think of “Write What You Know” in terms of genre preparedness either. Follow your passions. In addition to some genre knowledge, I’m also passionate about modern American politics. I love movies and know a decent amount about the filmmaking craft. I also care a great deal about animals and will be forever mystified by the creatures of our oceans. Our passions beg us to learn more and in doing so our passions become pieces of us. “Write What You Know” can be read as “Write What You’re Passionate About,” whether that be genre or subject matter.
Passion, that’s where good stories come from.
Stephen King’s first published novel was Carrie, a story about a teenage girl’s newfound supernatural powers. King admitted to some apprehension in writing the story, not least of all being that he was a male writer and knew little about what went through a girl’s head during her first steps into womanhood (“I couldn’t believe I was writing it.”). But he knew enough to form the structure and had enough passion to make the story what it was. At the time of writing Carrie, King was an English teacher at a high school and he had a deep love for horror.
He wrote what he knew and he made up or researched the rest.
Say you love fantasy novels but you’re also passionate about sports and modern politics. Find a way to throw them all together into one package. A fantasy novel about an athlete in a fictitious sport who uses her voice to create change in a nation gone mad. That’s writing what you know just as much as writing a fictionalized take on working at that job you hated.
Don’t let “Write What You Know” scare you. It sticks around either because it’s too simple to forget or because we want to be talked out of writing that book about robot priests we’ve always kept in the back of the mind. But we really should think about “Write What You Know” a moment longer and, like all advice, refit it to suit our needs.
Write what you love.
Write with passion.
Pepper in some firsthand experiences if you like—or don’t, there aren’t any rules!
There.
Aren’t.
Any.
Rules.
Write what you know and invent or research the rest.
Nobody else is doing it any different.