To One Ambitious to Write Stories
Back to Intimate Letters on Personal Problems
Dear friend,
I wish you lived in Philadelphia that I might help you directly in your personal life and in your literary work. However, as this is not possible, I shall help you very cheerfully and gladly and as efficiently as possible at this long range. If you desire to have me look over the story which you have written, I shall take pleasure in doing so. It may be that I cannot do it very promptly, for I am very busy. Besides being an editor and busy in literary work every day of the week, I am also a pastor, with a church to which I devote all my evenings and my Sundays.
I shall have to look over your story, therefore, in some little break between times — but I shall take pleasure in doing so for you, because of my deep interest in your life. I do not profess, however, to be very much of a critic. At the same time, I have learned to know pretty well what kind of story is apt to be interesting enough to get itself read; and also the kind of story that it is really worth while to have young people or others read.
In our work, there are two phases of testing the worth of a story. First, every story must be good in a literary way. That is, it must be a piece of art, must be well written, must be bright, interesting and attractive, so that those who read the first paragraph cannot stop — but will be compelled to go on. In these days it is impossible to get people to read stories which drag or are dull. The second thing necessary, is that there must be some helpful teaching in the story. I do not mean that preaching must be dragged in, nor the moral tacked on — but that every story must have some motive, must teach something that will be helpful, inspiring, uplifting. This teaching must appear in the conduct, the disposition, or the outcome of the story itself, as I have said, and must not merely be attached as an "application" in an old-fashioned sermon.
I am not trying to discourage you. I am sure that you have learned some things in life which it is worth while for you to teach to others, and worth while for them to read. As you say, your time has been occupied in other things, in loving ministry for Christ. You must not chide yourself, therefore, nor feel discouraged because you have not had the opportunity to develop your literary work, or to write much in the way of practice.
Do not get the impression that your life is idly spent, when you are doing such sweet service as you have been doing. Remember the commendation that Jesus gave to Mary — "She has done what she could." You bring your alabaster box to Christ — whenever you bring him your heart's love, whatever the form of service may be. If you have time and opportunity for literary work, he will accept that when you have acquired the necessary preparation for it. If you have not time for this kind of work — but are required to devote all your service to others, know deep down in your heart, that nothing in the world you could do, will be so pleasing to your Master.
Back to Intimate Letters on Personal Problems