Write What You Know

Written By Madeline Parise

Whether you’re a published author, an aspiring writer, a reader or just interested, you’ve probably heard the phrase ‘write what you know’ at least once. It’s easily one of the most popular pieces of advice in the field; but what is it really trying to teach us about the craft of writing?

It is important to understand that ‘writing what you know’ can be horribly misinterpreted if taken at face value. For example, I’m a female university student living in Brisbane city. Should all of my characters be teenaged females, then, since that’s what I ‘know’ best? Should every one of my stories be set at a university campus, because it’s most familiar to me? Must I only write about the struggles of handing in assignments and making new friends?

Obviously, the answer is a resounding no. The real point of this ‘write what you know’ exercise is, in my opinion, much more profound.

Many authors refer to writing as an extension of self – thinking through your fingers and exploring your mind. If we think about ‘self’ as our mental and emotional being, we are monumentally shaped by our experiences; the things we’ve learned, seen, and felt. It is through these experiences that we relate to the world around us.

Think about it: we contribute to conversation via our personal anecdotes, reflections, and thoughts. We empathise with friends who are hurting by drawing on our own experiences of hurt. We make decisions based on the things we know and the things we feel.

Writing is no different. As authors, we should always utilise our knowledge to add meaning to our work. Note, however, that your knowledge extends much further than where you live, who you know, what you study and so on. It’s social queues, it’s life experiences, it’s observations. Love, hate, intrigue, passion… the things you feel regularly or rarely, deeply or faintly.

So how does this apply to ‘writing what you know’ as writing advice?

It offers incredible artistic freedom for us as writers. I’ve never won a marathon, or climbed Mount Everest, or published a novel, but I have achieved personal fitness goals, received good marks for hard work, and reached the end of huge semester that seemed impossible. I’ve felt accomplishment, so I can write accomplishment, whether that be climbing a mountain or winning a race.

In the same way that I’ve experienced accomplishment I have felt sadness, faced relationship challenges, battled with anxious thoughts, and helped friends through traumatic times. If you think about your life experiences, big or small, you have a huge store of knowledge to employ in your writing. It’s exciting to think of knowledge this way; as feelings and experiences that can be applied to a million different situations.

As novelist Nathan Englander so eloquently stated: “…if you’ve known longing, then you can write longing. And that’s the knowing behind ‘write what you know’.”

Intern