I want to follow up on what I wrote yesterday about the contrast between Dean Koontz’ early books and his later ones. I’m lukewarm about most of the early books, and I loathe at least one of them. But his more recent books are magnificent, and they get better and better, in my opinion.

This is a lesson (and an encouragement) for all aspiring writers.

When I was a kid, I meant to be an artist when I grew up. I wanted to draw or paint, or something. Be a cartoonist, or an illustrator or a commercial artist.

I drew incessantly. I drew behind my books during lectures in school (an 8 ½ by 11 sheet folded in half was my preferred canvas. It was easily hidden, and just about as much space as I could handle conceptually). I drew while watching TV in the evening.

But I was always frustrated with my drawing. I compared what I produced to what real artists did, and I knew mine fell short. And I never seemed to progress beyond certain limits. I never quite mastered proportion or perspective. I never learned to do hands well.

Then I started writing. And somehow that was different. I didn’t think I was as good as the published writers, but I never felt like I hit that wall. I felt as if I had control over words, in a way I didn’t have control over my pencil. Something told me I could pretty much go as far as I wanted with this thing.

The improvement in Dean Koontz’ books should be (it seems to me) an encouragement to everyone who wants to be a writer. There are doubtless others, but I personally don’t know of another author whose work exhibits such a clear upward learning curve….

[Let’s pause to think about that. I could mention Stephen Lawhead, I suppose. His early fantasies, such as the Dragon King books, were pretty pedestrian, but his books have gotten better and better, year by year.

P.G. Wodehouse is also an example. You can buy his early story collections, from the days when he hadn’t yet figured out what he was born to write. Those stories are fine, but he hasn’t yet pulled up his socks and applied himself, so to speak. He hasn’t found the courage to cut his moorings to realism.]

What I’m saying is, it’s good to compare your work to the best models. You ought to do that, and often.

But never forget that every craft must be learned. You start out as an apprentice. You make mistakes and learn from them, and build on experience. Maybe you’ll hit the wall, as I did with drawing, and have to find another medium, but if you don’t, then your job is to keep at it, day by day.

In twenty years you’ll be twenty years older than you are now, whether you write or not. Your choice is what you’ll have to show for those twenty years.