This week I discovered that my creative writing tutor at college died. Six years ago.
His name was Mike Fox and he was brilliant. He taught me a lot about writing; things I still remind myself to this day. He was funny, filthy and passionate about writing and reading. He founded and taught at junior chess clubs in central England and wrote books on the same subject. He spat when he read aloud and he didn’t care.
Mike summed up good writing with one word: Infect. He said the aim of a writer was to infect the mind of the reader with what was in his or her head. It seems appropriate that I should try to spread his infection to you. Here are five things Mike taught me:
1. On infecting
To elaborate, this word should not be overlooked. Its brevity is misleading. The point of reminding yourself about the purpose of writing is to divert yourself from the potential self-indulgence of simply ‘expressing’ yourself. Expression can be limited to a process of evacuation: appeasing the writer’s desire to spill thoughts out. ‘Infecting’ reminds us that words are simply servants to get your thoughts into someone else’s head as accurately and vividly as possible. If this doesn’t happen, then you’ve failed.
2. You
‘You’ is the most powerful word in the English language. Simple but true. Mike once read us a poem with a very long title. The title was rich and flowing, romantically describing the importance of a person. The poem itself was then just one word: You. I’ve always liked that reference. Really all it does is reverse the role of the title and the content of a poem, but it makes a lovely point.
3. Write shorter sentences
Another simple one. Another crucial one. “If you can turn one sentence into two sentences, then do it,” Mike told us. He cited Hemingway, whose writing is sometimes – word-by-word – very basic – almost childlike. But by stitching together short, potent sentences, a rich body of work can be created. Shorter, leaner sentences are also effortless to read, allowing the reader to pass through a book like a stone skimming across the water.
4. Filth is OK
When Mike was my tutor, I was twenty years old. My humour was naturally a little juvenile. He made me realise that filth is OK. It has a rawness and honesty that can be very powerful if used for the right reasons. He made me feel comfortable with being juvenile and my writing was more entertaining as a result.
5. Know what you’re crap at
Writing comedy has always been natural to me. (How funny my words actually are is questionable, but I’m talking about the genre) Mike gave me a lot of confidence to focus on this. He also told me my more serious writing was “absolute drivel”. Harsh but true. He saved me a lot of time and helped me to focus on what I’m good at.
Here’s to you Mike. I hope a few people reading this have been ‘infected’ by you. I promise not to tell your wife.
