The Best Damn Writing Advice Ever

So, what do you do if you get a letter like this? Feel sorry for yourself? Absolutely!

Back in the day, The Atlantic Monthly, along with The New Yorker, were two of the most prestigious magazines. They were held in the highest regard for their writing and reporting. One would imagine an illustrious editor like The Atlantic Monthly’s C. Michael Curtis would not have had the time nor the interest to meet with him personally.

After all, he was just 24, and his writing credentials consisted of two articles in The New York Times.

One would be wrong. Curtis took his call and agreed to meet. That was nearly 47 years ago. Forgive him if he doesn’t remember what he and Curtis discussed. He did leave several humor pieces with Curtis to consider for The Atlantic.

Did he have high hopes? In those days, he always did.

Several days later, Curtis sent him the following letter.

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So what do you do if you get a letter like this? Feel sorry for yourself? Absolutely! Have an existential crisis? As in, “I suck. Who was I kidding thinking I could be a writer?” For sure. Then what? Piss and moan to everyone you know? Soooo tempting. No. You just piss and moan to the people who love you the most. Here’s what they do. They give you 5 minutes before telling you to get your shit together.

How do you do that? You reread the letter. You read it again. Again. Again. Until, you begin to think, “Maybe this Curtis guy is making some good points. Maybe he’s really trying to help. Maybe it’s the best damn writing advice you’ve ever gotten.” Before you know it, your brain synapses fire up, and you’re back at your typewriter. Writing better than ever.

What about your well-worn copy of Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style that’s sitting on your desk? It’s been your writing bible. Do you toss it? No. Instead you say, “E.B., what the fuck?” Yes, you know his friends called him, Andy. You weren’t his friend. You don’t.

C. Michael Curtis was 88 years old when he died last year. After his death, The Atlantic wrote, “Mike was the first, or among the first, to discover and publish in a national magazine Charles Baxter, Ann Beattie, Ethan Canin, Louise Erdrich, Tim O’Brian, Tobias Wolff…Mike also worked with plenty of established masters: A. S. Byatt and Saul Bellow, Raymond Carver and Cynthia Ozick, Alice Munro and Richard Ford…”

The article neglected to say Michael Curtis also found the time on July 12, 1977 to meet with a young inexperienced writer who probably had no business being in his office in the first place. He provided invaluable unvarnished feedback. For the next several years, Curtis never relegated his future submissions to the slush pile. Curtis personally read them all, responded promptly and always found encouraging words. A young writer who begins lamely and ends lamely couldn’t ask for more.

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