Being a Good Writer
How do you know you’ve told the best story?
by Hunter Liguore
When a writing student asked me how to know if he was a good writer, my heart felt a little heavy, sad even, that this student would even question if he was ‘good,’ since I knew how hard he worked. It’s a question that a good writer will ask. It comes from a place of wanting to be good at the craft, to ensure all bases have been covered, and if we’re missing something to learn it. To be a good writer means what? And by whose standards?
One a foundational level, there are ways to gauge if we’re writing ‘good,’ and for the sake of discussion, ‘good’ here implies that we’re connecting with our readers; our work is understood, discussed, easy to navigate, even; and presents some type of quality, not only that it met our vision of what we intended, but that others can be included. The foundational level (for me) is a basic understanding of grammar and an understanding of how sentences are created, and how those sentences in turn connect to a cohesive paragraph, then to another, and create a story in the reader’s mind. We begin with a title, then the first sentence, and keep going. At this level, in basic terms, writers can be honest and ask: is the writing coherent and cohesive?
Some measurements for writers are to check the basic rules of grammar and sentence construction, and if we don’t feel we have a good foundation in this area, then take the time to learn it. In my classes, I see students groan over learning what an adjective is or how to reduce the redundancy of prepositional phrases to construct more succinct sentences. Here’s the thing: once you know the rules, you can break them and bring in your art, so much so, that your sentences become your own and no one else’s. To me that’s when you start to thrive and when you go from good to great.
Take a look at this passage from Adjustment Day by Chuck Palahniuk:
“People still talk about some do-gooder. A good scout, the one in every crowd. Some altar boy, some teacher’s pet walks into the Southeast Precinct, looking both ways, whispering with one hand cupped beside his mouth. Past dark o’clock, it’s midnight o’clock, when in walks the kid with his hood up, head down, wearing sunglasses, no less. He’s nobody’s Stevie Wonder. No white cane, no dog. Whisper-asks can he talk to somebody in charge. Asks the desk sergeant on duty. Whispers, “I want to report a crime’s supposed to happen.” No other author could’ve constructed this. It’s Palahniuk’s vision, his words, his construction.
It’s the same if you were to look at a painting from Basquiat or Kahlo and know without being told it’s theirs. For an author, we aren’t just mucking about with words, we’re fashioning them, and how that comes through us is ours—our vision, our voice, our mastery—so the more we know how to use words to carry out the stories we want to tell, the more quickly we can and will create our own signature rhythm.
So once you’ve mastered the fundamentals of how words work, you create your rhythm and you can begin to build things. What you build is infinite. To me ‘good’ writing draws from one’s inner imagination, so it is unique and not imitative. If looking outward to see what other writers are doing, you’ll only be a copy of the original, and never ‘good.’ Imitation is a virus among writers, who see others selling work or getting praise. It might make you feel like you’re missing out and need to change your craft. But don’t. Get imitation out of your system and you’ll begin to really care about your work in a deep way, knowing you’re the only one that can write it.
Most often, the ‘thing’ that we’re mastering and crafting in writing is a reader’s understanding of what we’ve assembled. You write a short story. Is it good? Ask a reader. How much work did they have to do on your behalf? Did they need to fill in the action, pacing, character details and emotion, or setting? That’s what we’re attempting to do, balance those things—pull it out of your brain and get it on to the screen, to reach an audience. Is it good? translates to: did the reader get it? Did they see what I’d wanted? Did they understand it?
As author Jan Nerenberg explains, “A good writer writes, views critiques as an opportunity for growth, and falls in love daily as words are juxtaposed with new companions in the creation of story.”
Exactly. Measuring this takes time and confidence. It takes a willingness to revise the vision and go over it. Read it aloud and even then, even polished, it can't miss things. We do our best. We won’t serve every reader. For every story, there are some who will like it a lot, and some who won’t. That’s why ‘good’ needs to be self-driven. We reach ‘good’ when we know we’ve listened so deeply and executed everything we possibly could to meet the reader’s satisfaction. Anyone who has ever written knows what I’m talking about. You finish and a few days later, you get a nag to tweak a word. Next thing you know, you’re back on page one and a full revision ensues. Good. It means you had more for the reader to envision.
Eventually, we can be satisfied with our work, based on what we wanted for it, and trust that it’s good, by our standards. Even in the light of rejection, or those who have an objection. Reading the paragraph from Adjustment Day, you might not like it or be able to follow along. That’s why, ultimately, the craft of writing is really the negotiating of our ability to trust our inner voice, our vision, our gift to bring a story into the world.
How do you know you’ve told a good story? You decide it. If it’s lots of applause from readers, then you’ll use that as a guide. For others, it’s when there is nothing more to write, that you’ve written the strongest story, regardless of the opinions of others.
Either way, keep writing, keep honing, keep redefining what good writing means to you. A day will come when you will just ‘know’ the work is good and carry it confidently out into the world.
Meet this week’s Author: Hunter Liguore
...is a writer, professor, and historian, specializing in Modern Irish history. Her historic fiction has appeared in Bellevue Literary Review, Irish Pages, Anthropology & Humanism, and more. Her archaeology-adventure novel, The Lost City of the Mayan,” is now available.
& Instagram @happylondonpress
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