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How to Become an Ironic Writer

                 In Lorrie Moore’s short story, How to Become a Writer, the literary technique of witty, self-deprecating irony is used to convey the message that becoming a writer is not a simple procedure that can be taught.  To this end, Moore makes effective use of irony on multiple levels, until it drips from each and every sentence of the story.  At times, it almost seems like too much, but it really adds flavor, texture, and depth.  From the title of the story to the ending paragraph, irony makes an intelligent and deliberate appearance.

                 Moore starts off by telling the reader that the story is about how to “become” a writer, not be one, emphasizing that someone has to work to turn themselves into a writer.  Though the semi-autobiographical character of Francie is compelled to write, even born to be a writer, she still has to become a writer.  Moore says, “you have a calling, an urge, a delusion, an unfortunate habit.” (Moore 229)  It is a delusional habit that one has to work at developing, but it is inborn as well.  Ironically, the requirement for becoming a writer is to already be one at heart.

                 More irony comes in the title because Moore is ostensibly writing an instructional essay on how to become a writer like her, but none of these steps are things the reader can actually do.  Instead she offers a fictionalized account of her own experiences told in a disjointed, episodic, but engaging manner that leaves the reader wondering which elements are true.  For Francie, becoming a writer is a happy accident, a product of circumstance, not something she actively chooses.  “The lines at the registrar this week are huge. Perhaps you should stick with this mistake. Perhaps your creative writing is not all that bad. Perhaps it is fate. Perhaps this is what your dad meant when he said, ‘It's the age of computers, Francie, it's the age of computers.’”  (Moore  228)  Francie tried to avoid writing in college but pursued her so-called calling only when the opportunity was forced on her.  This twist of fate is the very definition of irony.

                 The story starts off with the paradoxical instruction to decide to be anything but a writer.  To hit the target, aim elsewhere.  “First, try to be something, anything, else. A movie star/astronaut.  A movie star/ missionary.  A movie star/kindergarten teacher.  President of the World.  Fail miserably.  It is best if you fail at an early age - say, 14…”  (Moore 227)  She continues on with recurrent suggestions that maybe she should go back to her original chosen career of child psychologist.  The irony is that she is writing about wanting to become a writer, and all people seem to tell her is how good she would be with kids.  Only in her youth, does Francie think of a way to combine her two strengths, by telling her babysitting charges gory, disjointed children’s stories.

                 Regardless, she feels obligated to continue on a path that even she is not sure of.  “You are said to be self-mutilating and losing weight, but you continue writing.  The only happiness you have is writing something new, in the middle of the night, armpits damp, heart pounding, something no one has yet seen.  You have only those brief, fragile, untested moments of exhilaration when you know: you are a genius.”  (Moore 229)  She continues because she knows deep down she has something contribute to the world.  To not share her “genius” would be a mistake, even though it seems to be causing her physical pain.

                 How to Become a Writer succeeds despite ignoring plot conventions such as rising action, climax and falling action.  Ironically, Francie is repeatedly criticized for the same failing, in that her plots are faulty.

The assignment this week in creative writing is to narrate a violent happening. Turn in a story about driving with your Uncle Gordon and another one about two old people who are accidentally electrocuted when they go to turn on a badly wired desk lamp. The teacher will hand them back to you with comments: ''Much of your writing is smooth and energetic. You have, however, a ludicrous notion of plot.'' Write another story about a man and a woman who, in the very first paragraph, have their lower torsos accidentally blitzed away by dynamite. In the second paragraph, with the insurance money, they buy a frozen yogurt stand together. There are six more paragraphs. You read the whole thing out loud in class. No one likes it. They say your sense of plot is outrageous and incompetent. After class someone asks you if you are crazy.  (Moore 228-229)

 

Moore’s refusal to be conventional and follow her own advice is what ultimately makes the story work.  She relies almost entirely on conflict and characterization to tell it.  By getting rid of plot, while having everyone tell her character to use plot to become a better writer, she effectively twists the story to make it ironically self-referential.  She shows the reader that conventional methods of writing can be overrated, and that sometimes it is best to ignore critics and notes from teachers in the margins of essays and stories.

                 The ultimate irony is that the author says Francie feels she fails at becoming a writer.   “Later on in life you will learn that writers are merely open, helpless texts with no real understanding of what they have written and therefore must half-believe anything and everything that is said of them.” (Moore 230)  But to the rest of the world she succeeds.  “Sooner or later you have a finished manuscript more or less.  People look at it in a vaguely troubled sort of way and say, ’I'll bet becoming a writer was always a fantasy of yours, wasn't it?’  Your lips dry to salt.  Say that of all the fantasies possible in the world, you can't imagine being a writer even making the top 20.”  (Moore 231)  Perhaps it is because she hates writing but is compelled to write that Francie feels she never quite becomes a full writer.  More likely, it stems from her own self-doubt.  She says quite plaintively that she is only a genius when she is alone and only to herself.  In this, Moore effectively demonstrates the writing process without details.  She shows that writing is about the writer, not the critic or audience.  To succeed, a writer first must put things onto the page.  It is hard, and it is not Francie’s fantasy or dream; it is her mind and how she lays it out, sans criticism.

                 As these examples demonstrate, Moore is a master at using different forms of irony to effectively tell her story, substituting for more conventional techniques such as proper plot development.  This irony not only covers up for what would otherwise be failings, it converts them into virtues while simultaneously giving her credibility as a writer by showing that she knows the rules well enough to know when to break them.  This feeds into the deepest irony, existing at three levels, wherein the story ostensibly offers advice on writing while implicitly admitting that the writer is clueless, yet subtly refutes this conclusion by displaying biting wit.  Though the story benefits from the expert use – and abuse – of various literary techniques, it is irony that is the defining technique of How to Become a Writer.


Works Cited

Moore, Lorrie. "How To Become A Writer." Literature: An Introduction to Reading and Writing.    Ed. Edgar V. Roberts, and Henry E. Jacobs. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall     Pearson Education Inc., 2003. 227-231.

 

Copyright 2004

 

How To Become A Writer Can Be Found Here.

by Amanda Evans

Date: 06/21/04