Sorting through a chest of old letters and photos recently, I came across a yellowing envelope marked ‘Roald Dahl’.
Memories flooded back as I opened it. This was a hand-typed reply I’d received from the great story-teller to a letter I wrote to him when I was 17, pleading for feedback and advice on an A level project I was doing about short stories. I’d included one of my own.
I remember how I felt when he replied – astounded, and then, with the callowness of youth (see pic!), a bit peeved that he’d been so terse:
Dear Jay,
You are asking too much of me. You must realise that I get an awful lot of these letters and you can’t expect me to write your thesis for you. It should be fairly obvious to you what the role of the short story is in modern literature. It’s a big one. Study particularly the American short story writers like O’Henry and Runyon and Hawthorne and Poe, and lots and lots of English ones.
If you want any dope on me there have been an awful lot of profiles in English magazines over the past year starting with the February 1979 issue of Vogue.
I have read your story. I don’t think it’s bad, but you must stop using too many adjectives. Study Hemingway, particularly his early work and learn how to write short sentences and how to eschew all those beastly adjectives. Surely it is better to say “She was a tall girl with a bosom” than “She was a tall girl with a shapely, prominent bosom”, or some such rubbish. The first one says it all.
Yours sincerely,
Roald Dahl
Heeding his 35-year-old advice, I tweeted a snap of the letter with the message: “In 1980, as a spotty teenager, I wrote to Roald Dahl asking for advice on writing. Here is his priceless response”. Yes, I know that contains two “beastly” adjectives, but I felt they were justified.
A week later, and with no additional ‘push’ from me, the post had been retweeted over 1,000 times and favourited by more than 1,500 people, making it my most popular tweet by a country mile.
Obviously its popularity could be attributed to Dahl himself; his books are a part of so many of our lives. But for teachers and writers (and so many of the retweets have been by them) what resonates is the advice, specifically that passed on so memorably in the final three sentences. It sank into my teenage brain and led to a mantra when I worked as a reporter and then in PR: ‘keep it tight’, whether it be an intro or a pitch to a news editor.
I remember a team of in-house PRs coming into the SWNS newsroom many years ago to see their story being pitched to national newspapers news editors one morning. The PR director and two wide-eyed interns (I think they were from a rail group) watched as I made the call to desk after desk with the same 10-second spiel: ”Oh yeah, and we’ve got a fun one – a list of the weirdest items left behind at train stations this year, including a wooden leg, a stuffed gerbil and a jar of pickled eggs. With pix.” After the call, the PRs were mortified. ”You didn’t even mention the name! Or how many stations were included in the round-up! Or how amazing some of the things were!”
Of course, that wasn’t the point. It was about the story, and you’ve got about 10 seconds to tell it to a busy news editor. These people deal every day with the absolute extremes of story-telling – terrible human tragedies, major sporting achievements, business disasters – so to oversell or ‘overtell’ our/your survey would show we had no understanding of the way it goes. The mention of the client in the pitch would have been a switch-off. And to have called the results of the survey “amazing” would just have been beastly.