Hidden Gems: The Virtue of Being Prolific

As I young man I took out a few sheets of loose-leaf paper and got to work on my first novel. “The phone rang,” the story began. I still think the three-page unfinished work was pretty good (at least for a nine-year-old). Now decades later I am trying to fill up a whole notebook. The average novel is 70,000 words. I have a few more to go.

The greatest quality of some writers is being prolific. I have in my bag a certain writer’s seventh novel, and it is over 400 pages long. Yes, I suppose I will read it to entertain my overwrought mind and dig out the occasional gem of wit and wisdom (not that I am engrossed by every paragraph, but mostly to see what happens to the parrot in the story). But with due respect to the author, I am mostly jealous – despite its being a lesser work. Being prolific is a virtue to be emulated.

Ah, but when the precious stones rise to the surface, humanity can then enjoy their beauty for ages to come. Think of the sayings and writings of Confucius, Jesus, Shakespeare, Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, Archie Bunker, Erma Bombeck. Their words of wisdom come down to us through time and remain with us forever.

But what of all the words and works of these famous people and others like them that did not make it into print, script or newspaper type? Think of all the deleted lines and paragraphs and even entire manuscripts. Think of the failed attempts, the not-so-funny lines, the not-so-wise efforts at profundity. So much work destined for the trash bin.

Some years ago I read the new Jules Verne novel Paris aux Deuxieme Siecle. It seems that the manuscript was originally rejected by his editor. A Verne descendant recently resurrected the work, and it was published and stocked in bookstore shelves. (I can’t tell you much of what it was about because I read it in French. But I’m sure it was good.) Let’s hear it for being prolific.

If reading and writing are part of the discovery of untold treasures of truth and wisdom, then both reader and writer are co-workers in the mining process. And to strain at the metaphor, it behooves the writer to turn as much dirt as possible to uncover the bounty. Unless your three pages are that good, your turn of phrase so evocative, and all your words life-changing, then you’re probably not done. Better write some more.