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…. Continue reading The learning curve →