Letters to a Young Writer: Some Practical and Philosophical Advice

By Colum McCann

From the bestselling author of the National Book Award winner Let the Great World Spin comes a lesson in how to be a writer—and so much more than that.

Intriguing and inspirational, this book is a call to look outward rather than inward. McCann asks his readers to constantly push the boundaries of experience, to see empathy and wonder in the stories we craft and hear.

A paean to the power of language, both by argument and by example, Letters to a Young Writer is fierce and honest in its testament to the bruises delivered by writing as both a profession and a calling. It charges aspiring writers to learn the rules and even break them.

These fifty-two essays are ultimately a profound challenge to a new generation to bring truth and light to a dark world through their art.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
• Release date: Apr 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9780399590818

Colum McCann

Colum McCann's seven novels and three collections of short stories have been published in over forty languages and received some of the world's most prestigious literary awards and honours, including the National Book Award for his novel Let the Great World Spin in 2009. His novel TransAtlantic was longlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2013, and his most recent novel, Apeirogon, also longlisted for the Man Booker Prize, is an international bestseller on four continents. colummccann.com

Book preview

Introduction The Unsayable Ecstasies

Nobody can advise you and help you, nobody, said Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet over a century ago. There is only one way. Go into yourself.

Rilke, of course, was right—nobody but yourself can help. In the end it all comes down to the strike of the word upon the page, not to mention the strike thereafter, and the strike after that. But Rilke was taken by the request from the young writer, and he corresponded with Franz Xaver Kappus in ten letters over the course of six years. Rilke’s was advice on matters of religion, love, feminism, sex, art, solitude, and patience, but it was also keyed in to the life of the poet and how these things might shape the words upon the page.

This most of all, he says. Ask yourself in the most silent hour of night: Must I write?

Everybody who has ever felt the need to write knows the silent hour. I have come upon many such people—and indeed many such hours—during my writing and teaching life. Each year my first class in the Hunter College MFA program begins with the statement that I won’t be able to teach the students anything at all. This comes as a bit of a shock to the twelve young men and women who have decided to devote themselves to the crafty, sullen art. These are among the smartest young writers in America, six first years, six second years, who have been chosen from a pool of many hundreds. I don’t mean my opening statement to them every semester as an act of discouragement: it is, I hope, the exact opposite. I can teach you nothing. Now that you know this, go learn. In the end I’m guiding them toward the fire in the hope that they will recognize the places where they will, most certainly, be burned. But the advice is also given in the hope that they learn how to handle, and pass along, the fire.

One of the best places for young writers to be is facing the burning wall, with only the virtues of stamina, desire, and perseverance to propel them across to the other side. And breach the wall they do: some tunnel, some climb, some bulldoze. Not with my help, but by going properly inside themselves, à la Rilke. I’ve been teaching now for the best part of twenty years. That’s a lot of chalk and a lot of red pencil. I haven’t loved every minute of it, but I’ve loved most, and I wouldn’t swap the experience for the world. There’s been a National Book Award for one student. A Booker Prize for another. Guggenheims. Pushcarts. Mentorships. Friendships. But let’s be honest, there has been burnout too. There’s been weeping and gnashing of teeth. There have been walkouts. Collapses. Regret.

The fact of the matter is that I’m only there as a foil. Practice and time do not necessarily bestow seniority. A student might—at the very beginning—know so much more than I know. Still, the only hope is that I might say one or two things over the course of a couple of semesters that might save them a little time and heartbreak.

All of those students, bar none, are looking, in Rilke’s words, to say ecstasies that are unsayable. The unsayable indeed. The job is theirs. The ability to trust in the difficult. The tenacity to understand that it takes time and patience to succeed.

Not so long ago I was asked by StoryPrize.org to write a short piece about the writing life. I mashed together some of my ideas, mixed it with a little credo and whatever wisdom I might be able to wring out of the dishtowel of teaching days. I called it Letter to a Young Writer, and it is the first entry in this book. Other entries followed over the course of a year. They were there, at times, for instruction. At other times they were clarion calls. This, then, is not a Writer’s Manual. Nor is it, I hope, a rant. It’s more a whisper while out walking in the park, something else I like to do with my students at times. I imagined it as a word in the ear of a young writer, though it could, I suppose, be a series of letters to any writer, not least myself.

I’m reminded, of course, of Cyril Connolly’s line: How many books did Renoir write on how to paint? I understand that it could be folly to try to dissect what is essentially a mysterious process, but in spite of that, here it is, with the full knowledge that opening up the magic box might doom its readers to disappointment. Still, the truth is that I genuinely enjoy watching young writers begin to put a shape on the contents of their world. I push my students hard. Sometimes they push back. In fact one of my opening workshop tenets is that blood will inevitably seep out the door during the course of a semester, and invariably some of that blood is my own.

In putting together these words, I have, I admit, failed miserably—which is, as you will see, a bit of a back-slap for myself. I covet failure. I have done it here. This advice comes up short of any I would want to receive myself. I deliver it, I hope, with a humble bow and a desire to get out of its way.

A word of warning. Once, when writing a novel called Dancer, a fictionalization of the life of Rudolf Nureyev, I sent the manuscript to a hero of mine. This was a writer whose every word I absolutely coveted. He was inordinately kind and sent me back six handwritten pages of notes. I took virtually every single suggestion, but I was disturbed about one. He said that I should cut the opening war soliloquy that begins Four winters… I had spent close to six months on this section and it was among my favorite parts of the book. He made a good argument against keeping it, but I was still upset. For days on end I walked around with his voice in my head. Cut it, cut it, cut it. How could I go against the advice of one of the world’s greatest writers?

In the end I didn’t take his counsel. I stepped inside and listened to myself. When the book finally came out, he wrote to tell me that I had made the correct choice and he had been humbly wrong. It is one of the most beautiful letters I have ever received. John Berger. I name him because he was my teacher, not in a literal sense but in a textural way and in the manner of a friend. I have had several other teachers too: Jim Kells; Pat O’Connell; Brother Gerard Kelly; my father, Sean McCann; Benedict Kiely; Jim Harrison; Frank McCourt; Edna O’Brien; Peter Carey; along with virtually every writer I have ever read. I am indebted also to Dana Czapnik, Cindy Wu, Ellis Maxwell, and my son John Michael for help with this book. The voice we get is not just one

Reviews for Letters to a Young Writer

[ridgewaygirl · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

There are writing books that are instruction manuals, with exercises and chapters on plot, or semi-colons. Then there are the inspirational books about writing, that give little to no instruction, but leave the reader fired up and eager to put pen to paper. This falls somewhere in between, being both advice and inspiration.

Each chapter is brief and to the point, whether the subject is writing dialogue or finding an agent. McCann isn't wasting any words here, so each brief letter is packed full. I read this short book over a period of months -- the chapters run together when read all at once -- and I found it to be full of advice I'd be thinking of throughout the day. This is a generous and useful book.

[randymetcalfe · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Colum McCann offers a series of “letters” in the spirit of Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet, updated for the 21st century writer primarily of fiction but applicable to all creative writers. His gentle admonitions, remonstrations, chiding and cajoling are a pleasure to read. Though he admits at the outset that nobody can teach you to write, he nonetheless points to a few pitfalls you might avoid, some challenges you might set yourself, and urges you to consider the kind of person — not just writer — you wish to be. He writes with enthusiasm about the writing life — the sitting down in a chair at a desk with a blank piece of paper and just staying there until you’ve done the work. And that’s all there is to it after all. Do the work. Write. There’s only one person who can do it and that’s you. Still, it’s nice to encounter a supporter, a coach, if you will, who genuinely wants you to do your best, to reach your potential, for you to just go ahead and write.

Yes, there are some useful tidbits of information here. But this is really a book for inspiration rather than specific guidance. Dip into it when you need a pick-me-up. When you are taking a break from writing. And then get back to it.

Gently recommended.

[chrisblocker · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I could use more Colum McCann in my life. I'd shell out some money just to have a little Colum figure in my office that dispenses wisdom from time to time. Better yet, I'll make a nice comfy spot in the corner and perhaps the author can stop by once or twice a day and share a tidbit or two. What say you, Mr. McCann? I'll get you a nice desk and you can have half the room and I'll make the coffee the way you like. And if you like my half of the room better, I'll even trade you. I'm amiable and quiet and won't bother you at all. Just every once in a while, share a bit of advice. It's a good trade if you ask me.

I read one McCann novel eight years ago, Let the Great World Spin, and while I enjoyed it, I now realize I've ignored this author far too long. Letters to a Young Writer is the most inspirational book about writing I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Nearly every book I've read on the craft of writing has given me an inspirational moment or two, taught me quite a bit, or merely given me the impetus to prove the author wrong, but none has moved me as this one has. McCann doesn't talk down to his reader. He doesn't repeat warnings about how the young writer is never going to make it anyway and might as well accept their fate. Sure, it's a fact that making a life out of writing is very difficult and statistically improbable, but if writers wanted a sure thing, they probably wouldn't be writers. McCann refrains from these warnings that fill other authors' writing manifestos; he doesn't say, “you're not going to get there,” rather, he says, “it's a tough road, but when you get there, here's what it's going to be like.” That 'when' may not always be a reality, but for the first time ever, I feel like someone high in the publishing world believes in me. And that's just what I needed.

We all have our student styles. I see it in my own children who've fallen in love with soccer (they didn't inherit their love of sports from me). One kid crumples under a coach who's hard on his team. Another rises to the challenge of a coach like that. One thrives with encouragement and a guiding hand on the shoulder. Another grows lazy with the same guidance. Perhaps some writers need the hard-ass coach (Sol Stein: Stein on Writing - “You suck and you're never going to amount to anything”) and some need the realist coach (Elizabeth Gilbert: Big Magic - “You're beautiful and you have potential, but it's too hard, so stop dreaming”). Personally, I thrive under McCann's style. That's not to say I didn't learn much from my other coaches. I enjoyed my experience with the authors mentioned here, as well as many others. None of those other authors got me out of my rut, however. None of them changed my outlook. None of them encouraged me to go to my office, rearrange the furniture, and get down to business (I made a spot in the corner for you, Colum, just in case you decide to stop by).

And it wasn't just the coaching style that I loved about Letters to a Young Writer, it was McCann's stories and phrases. This isn't only an inspirational how-to for the writer, it's a gorgeously written volume. These little snippets of advice read almost like poetry. And so, I'm convinced, if I can't have the author in my office, I'll just have to find an audio version of this book and play a segment or two every day. Likely, I'll get sucked in from time to time, listen to the whole thing when I should be writing, but then McCann will gently remind me that time is ticking and that I cannot die until I finish the books that are within me. Thank you, Mr. McCann, for helping me rediscover my purpose.

[neftzger · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This book was outstanding and one of the best I've read concerning the art of writing. If you want to be a better writer, then do not hesitate: get this short book and read it. Hold onto it and read it again in a year or two. This volume gives practical advice (that I can verify from experience) while counseling writers to understand the rules of the trade before breaking them: this is not a black/ white issue - there are appropriate and inappropriate times to do so. The book also encourages creative types to get out of their internal vortex and to see their work from the reader's perspective. It covers topics such as writer's block (which he refers to as "The terror of the white page"), why we tell stories, and handling critics.

If you loved Stephen King's "On Writing" then this book is definitely for you.

Note: I was given a free ARC of this copy by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. Also note that I will be purchasing this book and giving copies away as gifts. I rarely do that, but it was that good and says everything that I would tell a writer when they ask me for advice.

[pegmcdaniel · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I was given an e-copy of Colum McCann's latest book by the publisher, Random House via NetGalley, in exchange for my honest review. Thank you.

I would give this book more than 5 Stars if I could! It will become the "go-to" reference for both new and experienced writers. There is so much beneficial information and recommendations from Mr. McCann and it's all done in 52 short essays. Each essay is headlined with a meaningful quote from a famous writer.

You don't have to be writing a novel to find this book helpful. We all write at some point even if it's a letter, memo, social media posts, or perhaps a book review. Mr. McCann lists rules for writing and then encourages you to break them! So much useful information in such a small amount of space is hard to believe but it's all for real. This is a book to hang onto because each essay is like having a consultation with a splendid teacher!