Chapter 1: Understanding "Write What You Know"

If you've ever engaged with creative writing, chances are you've encountered the advice to "write what you know." This phrase has become almost as clichéd as "show, don't tell." Yet, it holds merit and deserves attention. Each individual's life experiences, no matter how ordinary they may seem, are valuable for storytelling. As P.D. James wisely stated, "You absolutely should write about what you know. There are all sorts of small things that you should store up and use; nothing is lost to a writer. You have to learn to stand outside of yourself. All experience, whether it is painful or joyous, is somehow stored up and sooner or later used."

However, for many emerging writers, the phrase "write what you know" can be perplexing and even daunting, often interpreted to mean that all writing must closely resemble personal autobiography. This might work well for someone with the adventurous life of Ernest Hemingway, but less so for those who find solace in solitude and introspection.

Increasingly, there seems to be a reluctance to venture beyond personal experiences. Zadie Smith points out that this advice has shifted into something resembling a cautionary warning: "stay in your lane." Yet, she argues that confining oneself strictly to personal experiences not only limits the scope of potential projects but also diminishes the imaginative vigor necessary for creative writing. Writers need exploration and revelation to fuel their progress; without it, writing can become tedious, yielding books that are uninspiring to create and dull to read.

"You write from what you know, but you write into what you don't know." — Grace Paley

It's evident that a lack of direct experience has not hindered some of the most remarkable authors from sharing their tales. Emily Brontë, known for her reclusive nature, nevertheless crafted intricate relationships in Wuthering Heights. Similarly, Patrick O'Brian became renowned for his naval novels, despite having little practical knowledge of sailing.

Likewise, Ursula K. Le Guin, who never traveled to outer space or encountered mythical creatures, advocated for the principle of writing what you know:

"As for 'Write what you know,' I was regularly told this as a beginner. I think it's a very good rule and have always obeyed it. I write about imaginary countries, alien societies on other planets, dragons, wizards, the Napa Valley in 22002. I know these things. I know them better than anybody else possibly could, so it's my duty to testify about them. I acquired my knowledge of these subjects, as well as my understanding of human emotions, through imagination working on observation."

Le Guin’s perspective suggests that knowing what we write about is an evolving journey. It involves dissecting all forms of knowledge, emotions, literature, conversations, and experiences we encounter. Filmmaker Jim Jarmusch succinctly expresses this idea, stating:

"Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work, and theft, will be authentic."

To clarify, Jarmusch is not promoting plagiarism; rather, he emphasizes that when we immerse ourselves in what inspires us, "knowing" becomes a straightforward process.

You don’t need to experience space travel to envision a spaceship; reading science fiction can suffice. While elves and orcs may not exist, anyone familiar with The Lord of the Rings knows their characteristics. Similarly, most of us may never witness battlefield conditions firsthand, but we understand the concepts of bravery and fear.

Thus, every writer can learn to know any story they wish to tell. However, with the freedom to write comes a significant responsibility.

Ultimately, a writer cannot rely on inauthenticity. They must possess a genuine understanding—whether that pertains to the origins of a dragon and the fear it instills in a knight, the emotions of a soldier in a trench amid gunfire, or the anguish of persecution.

The beauty of storytelling lies in its ability to transport us into varied perspectives. It serves as a profound method for fostering empathy and understanding. Nevertheless, being a writer does not grant permission to appropriate experiences merely because they appear intriguing or exotic.

While it’s crucial not to restrict ourselves to a single viewpoint, we must also avoid acting as guides in unfamiliar territory until we have cultivated a deeper understanding. In essence, a writer must truly "know," even when the subject feels elusive. Anything less would be tantamount to misleading the reader.

Chapter 2: The Balance of Knowledge and Imagination

This video titled "How to Write What You Know" delves into effective strategies for applying the principle of writing from personal experience without limiting creativity.

The second video, "Write What You Know," offers insights into how writers can explore their experiences while also expanding their imaginative boundaries.