Breaking the rules of creative writing

Regulations, bureaucracy and ‘guidelines’ pervade many aspects of modern life. This is especially true in public sector professions such as healthcare and teaching, but also affects workers in many other spheres including the self-employed. So I found it refreshing to hear from life coach Drew Rozell about a method of practice which he calls uncoaching. In summary, he suggests the best way is to ignore the rules – be yourself – and have fun!

Do these same principles apply for writers? I would say yes – to some extent. Like those in any other profession, writers do need to acquire relevant background knowledge and skills, respect certain ethical and legal standards, and devote sufficient time and effort to practising their craft. They can benefit greatly from attending courses, and seeking guidance and criticism from more experienced colleagues. This is all to the good if done in such a way as to help, and not hinder, development of each individual’s original ‘voice’.

Writers of fiction are often advised that a novel needs to fit a defined genre, conform to a standard structure, or be a certain length – see for example the detailed guidelines on the Mills & Boon websites. I realise there are sound commercial reasons for this, and that it is difficult for publishers to market books or for readers to find them unless they belong to a recognised category. But, if authors become too compliant with mainstream convention, the result may be an over-emphasis on form as opposed to content, and a stifling of creativity.

While writing these comments, I was reminded of the points for and against the ‘disease model’ used in orthodox medicine, which I discussed in my book Persons not Diseases. This model has enabled many advances in prevention and treatment, and it is obviously necessary to use some kind of classification in the healthcare setting. But if applied too rigidly or uncritically it can have drawbacks such as too much separation between medical specialties, unhelpful ‘labelling’ of patients, a poor deal for those whose symptoms do not fit with recognized patterns, and possibly discouraging new ideas and approaches. 

For writers, following a tried-and-tested recipe may well be the most reliable route to success. But, as a typical ‘Woman of Aquarius’ (see my other blog) I rate freedom as one of my top personal values and, for me, fulfilment through writing comes from original self-expression rather than the ability to follow a formula. This attitude has counted against me in the publication stakes and in younger days I wrote several novels which were given serious consideration by many publishers but always rejected in the end. The reason usually given was that they did not fit a recognised genre and were not good enough to flourish ‘outside the box’.  I don’t challenge that verdict, and if I ever look at those faded typescripts again I will probably be glad that they were not accepted.

But recently, after many years of non-fiction writing, I tried my hand at another novel and decided that in the modern era of independent publishing it is not so essential to conform to the guidelines. So I went straight for the indie option with Carmen’s Roses, now available on Amazon as both ebook and paperback. It breaks a number of the rules of creative writing. It is short, at 30,000 words. As ‘a story of mystery, romance and the paranormal’ it doesn’t fit any single category. It may not appeal to readers of my non-fiction books, with its different style and darker themes. But, if you’d like to take a look, here again is the link.

Bach flowers in fiction

In 1934 Edward Bach wrote a short piece called The Story of the Travellers about a group of sixteen people who have lost their way on a woodland walk. Each one of them responds differently to their predicament depending on their personality type, for example Oak is determined to struggle on to the end despite his exhaustion, Rock Rose gets into a panic, whereas Chicory is more concerned about the welfare of his companions than anything else.

Stories provide an excellent way of learning about the different flower remedies, and I remember that many of the exercises on my practitioner training course were based on characters from films and novels, or real-life personal accounts in magazines.

I have heard of three novels which feature the Bach flowers: The Pillow Boy of the Lady Onogoro by Alison Fell, Valis by Philip K Dick, and one by Mary Tabor which is currently out of print but may soon be posted on the Bach Centre website. And I’ve just published a novella in the ‘romantic suspense’ genre, Carmen’s Roses, in which the remedies play a minor role. If anyone knows of other relevant books I would be interested to hear about them.

Novels with a message

I’ve just seen the film The Railway Man, based on an autobiographical novel by former prisoner-of-war Eric Lomax, and described in reviews as an ‘intense emotional drama’. It explores themes of confronting past traumas, and moving from revenge to forgiveness, and appeared to engage the whole audience.

Do novels, films and plays always need to carry ‘messages’ designed to affect the outlook and emotions? Not according to the saying art for art’s sake which implies that creative works are worthwhile in themselves and do not have to be justified by any practical, educational or moral function.

For novels, according to this philosophy, providing pleasure and satisfaction for both writers and readers would be sufficient raison d’être. They need not aim to change people’s attitudes or improve their minds. All the same, messages of one kind or another are probably to be found within every piece of fiction, and can enhance its interest and value even when they are not consciously intended or recognised. 

Didactic novels, deliberately promoting certain ethical or political principles, can have the desired influence if they are well written and have a strong storyline. Otherwise they sometimes come across as patronising or contrived. Messages transmitted indirectly, as a subtext revealed through the speech or actions of the characters, can be more effective. They may prompt reflection on questions (is killing ever justified? do we reap what we sow in life?) on conflicts (good versus evil, pleasure versus duty, individual versus society), on the nature of human qualities such as courage or ambition, or virtually any other topic.

After years of writing non-fiction books, mainly medical ones, I recently published my first novel Carmen’s Roses. At surface level it is an easy-to-read (I hope) story of mystery and romance. Having taken shape gradually, inspired from various different sources, it was not meant to include any specific messages. But it has turned out to have several themes, including the contrast between orthodox and alternative models of sickness and healing, the darker side of human relationships and, again, the power of forgiveness.