On Comet, On Cupid, On Writing and Blitzen
Stephen King’s On Writing was the fourth book I read this year. I really do seem to be reading less than ever this year. Though I am behind in writing my «book reports» I don’t think my total now in the latter half of September reaches over a half-dozen. I’ve got a few that I’m nibbling on, but this is where I am.
On Writing was a mostly clear-headed musing on the subject of writing by someone who makes a darn good living cranking the words out. It’s practical, enjoyable, and doesn’t stray very far into the fantasyland of trying to teach creativity. It’s not a lofty book; King doesn’t pretend he’s any more than a guy who does a job pretty successfully. Whatever you may think of genre fiction, Stephen King is a quite competent writer and understands enough to write a book about it.
The book itself is very entertaining. Several anecdotes he puts forward made me laugh out loud unstoppably. King went above and beyond the call here. He could have simply failed to be boring and it would have been a worthwhile book. Instead he apparently decided that if he were to write a book about writing that it should be a good book, that people should be glad they’d read it after going to all the effort. I’m pleased that I read it. I had a good time reading it and, whether my dear readers can tell or not (more likely not) I learned some good things from it. On Writing is recommended.
