The Age Question
I have been thinking recently about the question of age when it comes to writing. This is partly because of the podcasts I did at Alt Fiction which touched on the issue. Links below:
New Writers and Breaking in with Alex Bell, Kate Griffin and M D Lachlan: http://unboundblogzine.podbean.com/altfiction-new-writers-and-breaking-in/
Fantasy - The New Generation with Alex Bell, Kate Griffin and Mark C Newton: http://unboundblogzine.podbean.com/altfiction-fantasy-the-new-generation/
There’s also the fact that people increasingly ask me for advice about how to get published, which always makes me remember one spectacularly ludicrous piece of advice I once got. When I was fifteen I was really enjoying the work of a particular author (who shall remain nameless) and so I decided to write her a gushing email, telling her that I wanted to be an author one day as well. She sent me a very nice reply, which I was very chuffed to get, but in it she said that her advice about writing (I do not recall actually asking for any) was that I shouldn’t even try to write a book until I was at least forty. ‘I know that sounds hard,’ she said, ‘but you have to have stuff to write about.’
Eh? Stuff to write about? What nonsense is this? I remember being quite miffed by the suggestion that my age meant I was not qualified to write a novel, especially since the author knew nothing about me or what I had done, or where I had been, or what I had lived through.
I would expect anyone to become a better writer as they get older and more experienced – both at writing and at life – but I don’t think it’s as black and white as there being a fixed minimum age – not when everyone’s experience of life is so vastly different. Besides which, a lot of the authors I know got their first book deal before they were forty. But there is this idea that if you’re very young, you won’t be able to write a novel of any worth. I’ve realised that I’m even guilty of this prejudice myself. If I find out that a book was written by a teenager (Eragon, for example) I am instantly dubious about reading it, despite the fact that I was a teenager when I wrote my first published book. Hypocritical of me, I know but there it is - I ain’t perfect. It seems to be a sort of sliding scale, where everyone has their own idea of how old a writer has to be in order to write well.
But what is it that we think a writer should have experienced before they can start? Love seems to come up a lot. Does someone have to know what it’s like to fall in love before they can write a book? Do they have to know what it’s like to get their heart broken? Should they have had a near death experience? Should they have travelled all over the world? The travel requirement is often mentioned in The Waltons (yes, I do watch it, and I love it too). John-Boy wants to be a writer, but he believes he can’t be one whilst he’s living in the mountains. He thinks he has to move to a city and see more of the world. Is this true? I have been very lucky with how much I’ve travelled, and there is no doubt that those experiences have influenced my writing. But is it a necessity? I’m not sure. Imagination, after all, is the key part of writing a book. You can be a recluse sitting in a mountain hut and still have a fantastic imagination.
And that leads on to the other point that your characters are not you. Your experience of being in love, or travelling to remote places, or whatever, will not be the same as theirs. My characters do not react to things the same way that I do. Still, there can be no doubt that experiencing something yourself is going to aid the process of describing it. But that’s all it does – it helps. It is not essential. You do not need to cut off your own hand before you can imagine how it would hurt. And you know you’re taking the writing thing just a bit too seriously when you find yourself bemoaning the fact that you never broke any bones as a child (as a result of being the careful, bookish type) and so don’t know what it feels like for the character you’re writing. I was quite shocked to find myself looking at my hand and thinking: ‘Wouldn’t it be great if I could break a finger or something?’ – just so that I would have direct, first-hand experience of what it was like, and so could write about it better. Where did I put that hammer anyway . . . ?
I think my conclusion at the end of all this is that as you get older and experience different things, your writing should improve. But as for when it is legitimate to start, I would suggest that so long as you have experienced some form of happiness and some form of misery then you are qualified to write a book. The rest can be fleshed out using your imagination. We are writing works of fiction, after all, not the world’s dullest autobiography.
Tags: writing

July 28th, 2010 at 1:34 pm
Whenever I look back on things I wrote when I was younger I think about how much better I’d probably have done it nowadays - but if you keep on thinking like that you’ll never get anything done.
Having loads of things to write about at fourty makes sense but only if you’re going to write strictly about real life. A lot of the fun in creating a world, realistic or fantasy, is guessing, exploring. If everything was based on experience it’d get boring and it’s often obvious when an author’s written an autobiography under the guise of fiction. I think experience does help (and knowing the lingo if you’re trying to fit into a genre) but if the plot idea is strong things can be overlooked.
Interesting that you say you’re dubious about younger writers, I know what you mean by being hypocritical in that way, it’s often the natural reaction.
July 28th, 2010 at 2:26 pm
I remember having a very similar conversation with a colleague back when I was a bookseller. ‘You can learn a lot from the young,’ was her argument, and I think she’s right (she was fairly close to retirement, BTW).
Experience will add all sorts of wonderful things to your writing, but there’s a lot to be said for the energy and vigour you get from young writers… even if they only seem to be able to write about frickin’ vampires.
Now where are my slippers and cocoa?
July 30th, 2010 at 3:36 pm
I think I had a similar piece of advice given to me at the only formal creative writing workshop I ever attended. The writer-in-residence, whom I shall not name, said after reading through 3 months of my work in that workshop, “You write with a great ear for the rhythm of the English language and a remarkable ability to paint pictures with a few well chosen phrases. But your writing is shallow. It lacks the depth, passion and sensitivity that comes only from having lived deeply. You should try living a little bit more, then come back to write, because otherwise your characters will always be fragile constructs, without depth and colour.”
I took that to heart. I became a lawyer. With secret dreams of becoming a politician. Or a management consultant.
October 10th, 2010 at 12:59 pm
> When I was fifteen I was really enjoying the work of a particular author (who shall remain nameless) …
Hi, I’ve only just discovered your site now. Love your books, by the way.
If I had a million dollars, I’d bet that the author-who-shall-remain-nameless is Voldemort. No, sorry, it’s Meg Rosoff, isn’t it? She’s consistent.