32 pages • 1 hour read
Lorrie MooreA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Verisimilitude refers to the semblance of truth or reality in a literary work. “How to Become a Writer” creates a strong sense of reality but also plays with the concept of verisimilitude, revealing it to be a construct and drawing attention to it as part of the writer’s literary toolkit. The setting, detail, description, and style of the text all strongly follow the conventions of literary realism. Frankie’s world is a recognizably mundane one and the method in which her experiences are described is direct, chronological, and approachable. There is realistic dialogue presented in the conventional way. These elements all create a firm grounding of verisimilitude and a sense that the story the narrator tells is “true.” Moore adapts this convention, however: her narrator feels very much like the traditional omniscient narrator of literary realism but the structure of her story relies on its blend of the second person imperative with richly detailed indicative mood: “Begin to wonder what you do write about” (10). The use of the second person is unusual in literature, and it creates unique effects, most especially an intimate, conversational tone, and the obfuscation of the narrator’s persona (i.e., the voice relies on the “you” of the reader not on the “I” of the narrator).
That Moore combines this experimental second person point of view structure with more traditional narrative techniques is fitting for a story about writing and learning how to write. It also raises questions about the act of storytelling and the tensions between verisimilitude and illusion inherent in writing. Moore’s story deliberately feels both like it has happened and that it will (or might) happen. The omniscient narrator seems both separate from Francie as the advice-giver, and intimately knowledgeable about her life and experiences. This is apparent from the outset when the narrator urges Francie/the reader to “Show [the writing] to your mom. She is tough and practical” followed by the increasingly personal “She has a son in Vietnam and a husband who may be having an affair” (1). These sentences juxtapose a generalized statement with a specific detail that is applicable to Francie but not necessarily to the reader, a pattern that is continued throughout the piece, continually shifting the general “you” of the reader to the specific “you” of Francie. These shifts deliberately break the verisimilar frame of the narrative, reminding the reader that the narrative is invented and suggesting that the writer can create, or change, anything at will, even the reader’s identity.
In another departure from traditional methods of creating verisimilitude, “How to Become a Writer” is written in the conditional future tense, telling a story that might happen: “Show it to your mom” (1). The second person voice, tense, and imperative mood form the direct language of personal advice-giving, again appropriate for the piece. The vivid description and narration of events, however, makes sure that the story feels as if it is real and fixed. There are no alternative endings; the narrator knows the future, “Later on in life you will learn[…]” (24). This blurring of distinctions between the narrator and Francie, combined with the time shift, is suggestive of memory. It introduces the idea that the piece is autobiographical and suggests that the “you” of the piece could be simultaneously, or variously, the narrator’s younger self, the imagined Francie, and the reader. In this way, Moore plays with the apparent reality of the text, asking the reader to further interrogate the role and purpose of writing.
Although we get some details about the characters in this story, most of them could be considered flat characters in that they lack complexity and seem to be representative of a “type” of person one might experience if, like Francie, they decide to become a writer. In common with many flat characters, especially in fairy tales, most of the secondary characters have no names: there is the mother, the brother, the dad, the roommate, the boyfriend, classmates, the dates. The text offers little about them, giving most details to the mother who makes several appearances. The boyfriend character and the men Francie dates once she breaks up with him serve as nameless, faceless characters who pass through her life. The mother character is presented as a generically concerned domestic mother who does not really understand her daughter and wants her to settle into a marketable field.
The use of the flat character in “How to Become a Writer” is a self-conscious device that serves a number of functions. The unreality of the other characters increases the focus on Francie as the protagonist; the reader’s experience of all other characters are mediated through Francie’s experience. This creates a sense of Francie’s alienation from the others in her story, and of the self-absorption that, the text suggests, is necessary to becomes a successful writer. Francie’s relationships may suffer, not least because, as the characters’ flatness indicates, she sees the people in her life as either distractions from, or material for, her writing. In highlighting the characters’ lack of reality, the flatness also draws attention to the narrative as a construct and, therefore, to the act of writing which is the focus of the piece.
The narrator in “How to Become a Writer” has a strong voice that relies on rich descriptions, wry asides, and an ironic mocking posture which provides a combined sense of sophistication, humor, and folksiness. There is a directness and personality to the voice; the persona of the older woman advising builds rapport with Francie/the reader through an openness that is often risqué. In the babysitting scene in which Francie is caught sleeping with the Playboy magazine, Francie responds that she “promised her a story if she took it like a big girl and that seemed to work out just fine” (3). In the proximity of Playboy, the sexual imagery of “took it like a big girl” is incongruous, cheeky, and funny. The informality of phrases such as these are mixed in with razor-focused, formal, and poetic diction throughout the piece, such as: “in the privacy of your own room, faintly scrawl in pencil beneath his black inked comments…” (2). This gives the voice texture, varying the prose, providing a rounded sense of personality. The narrator is fun but also demonstrates herself to be an authority on writing, through her writing.
In the last page of the story, Moore ends with a conditional flash forward, a possible future for Francie in which she decides not to attend law school and chooses a writer’s life instead. Since the story is about Francie “becoming” a writer, the narrative promise requires that the story follows her journey from student to practitioner. In this last section, many of the issues Francie experiences in college resolve themselves. There are no happy endings, but there are changes: she’s broken up with her boyfriend finally, and dates men who want her for sex; she has lost many of her friends. This flash forward into Francie’s imagined future shows that becoming a writer requires sacrifice and is part of the natural disillusionment of growing up. Due to being told in a conditional sense, the bleakness of her relationships does not seem as sad as it might if it were told in a more traditional point of view like in the first or third person. This possible future ending, although somewhat ambiguous, allows readers to imagine along with Moore how Francie’s writing life might turn out. Although her future lacks strong relationships with her peers, she has accepted the complex life of a writer with an almost cheerful resignation.
By Lorrie Moore