Stephen King's On Writing

Victoria Hislop recalls how a book on the craft of writing by the bestselling horror writer helped to put her back on track with completing her novel.

A little over a year ago, a fellow member of The London Library was telling me about a book he had just read. He did not know that I was hurtling towards a deadline on a novel, nor that I felt slightly ‘stuck’ . But everything he said about this book somehow resonated. I left my laptop on my desk and literally ran to Hatchards. On their system, it said they had one copy and the assistant disappeared for at least 20 minutes to try and find it. Usually I would have lost patience, but for some reason I knew I had to wait. It was the first Stephen King book I had ever bought. To be honest, his thrillers are not the kind of books I would normally read, but his volume On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft (2000) sounded as if it had been written for me.

It was the right book at the right time. The idea for my novel The Sunrise was in place but for various reasons I had completely lost my writing rhythm. I don’t really believe in writer’s block, but I felt as if I had forgotten how to do my own job. Once every three years, I produce a novel and for at least the first half of the schedule I am researching. This time, I had forgotten to get going with the writing part and the months had flown by. I had six months until my delivery date and though my ideas were all there, I had little to show for it.

Stephen (yes, it felt that personal) put me on track. His voice addressed me loud and clear from the first page and even though I don’t write thrillers, much of the advice is relevant to anyone who makes a living from putting words on a page.

Parts of On Writing are a memoir of King’s own writing career, and it made me feel better that I had never relied on drugs, cigarettes or alcohol to get going in the morning. A double macchiato from the little branch of Eat just round the corner from The London Library is all I need. Huge swathes of the book, however, were relevant and eye-opening, and I was immediately jolted out of my torpor.

King recalls answering a question from an interviewer on how he wrote. ‘One word at a time, ’ he answered. In the end it’s always that simple, whether you are writing something epic or just a short story. He gives basic practical advice such as not having a telephone or TV in your writing room (easy if you are in The London Library) and tells you to draw the curtains. He even advises a blank wall. I followed his instructions to the last detail. Word by word, this would be how my story would get written. I divided my total target number of words by the number of days until my deadline. As long as I put down 1,000 words each day (King’s recommended daily dose) I would meet my deadline.

His tone is uncompromising, sometimes brutal, but often funny too: ‘Don’t wait for the muse, ’ he says. ‘He’s a hard-headed guy who’s not susceptible to a lot of creative fluttering. This isn’t the Ouija board or the spirit world, but just another job like laying pipe. ’

And yes, that struck a chord too. Each morning, with my coffee in hand to drink on the steps of the Library, I walked past the huge development that has been emerging into the sky on the corner of Duke Street and St James’s Square. Every man on that site knew what task had to be achieved that day. And over the months, a huge, complex building has taken shape with every wire, every pane of glass, every length of pipe being put into place. Writing a novel is such a simple task by comparison.

By the time this article is printed, my novel will be in the bookshops and the building in Duke Street almost completed. The pipes were laid. Everything is in place. It’s tempting to give a précis of On Writing, but it would be best just to advise anyone even the tiniest bit stuck, to read it. King describes stories as being like fossils, simply waiting for excavation. Finally I have dug mine out, but without this book I think it would still be there, buried deep in the ground.