A few days ago, I was heavily discouraged by certain recent books and movies that are socially embraced and loved even though they have what I may consider bad writing.

In the end, I decided to just move on and be a little upset. And after packsister’s comments, I think we both agreed that we can only write for ourselves and not sweat the luck some of those authors seem to have.

But…I’m going to reiterate something I’ve heard recently that strikes the very core of the issue I’m having.

Gimmicks ultimately can’t compensate for bad writing.

And, with that, I’m at peace with all of this.

But what does that mean, exactly?

It means the secret to being a career writer is nothing more than good writing.

And it means the quality of writing is at the very core of a given story’s stay power. The more excellent the writing, the longer the story is going to stick around in the hearts of mankind.

A gimmick can be:

• a hook opening
• special effects
• a cool one-liner pitch
• a twist ending
• beautiful cover art
• time travel
• the main character dying in the middle of the story for literary effect
• a totally unique magic system
• advertising on your novel that you’re 17 years old
• ‘bending’ bullets

First of all, gimmicks can be wonderful things. They are another way to give your work a fresh, unique way to stand out in the crowd.

If the writing that goes along with that gimmick isn’t rock-solid, sure, your book may have flash-in-the-pan success, but it isn’t going to have the kind of stay power that ensures you’ll be getting royalty checks decades later (which is a pretty good sign people are still reading your work and enjoying it).

Solid writing gives a story a sort of eternal nature, letting it resonate truths that live inside the people that experience it. But poor writing with a great idea is a story that’s going to vanish.

For movies, special effects are always, always, always outdated. If the main selling point of a movie is a really cool special effect, it may be good this summer, but I shouldn’t need to say that special effects get outdated as quickly as technology grows. So 20 years from now—unless the writing was excellent—it will probably fall into obscurity.

Lots of comic book movies come out every summer. But only a small handful—the ones with great writing—are the ones with true stay power; the ones we fondly remember and don’t mind watching again and again.

George R.R. Martin doesn’t need a snappy pitch. He doesn’t need a mind-bending magic system. He just has great writing on his side. That’s all he needs. Now he has a massive fan base and is considered one of the best fantasy writers to ever live. His stories will be read and enjoyed 25, 100, maybe even 1000 years from now.

Great writing comes first. You don’t need gimmicks after that. Great writing is, inherently, the ultimate great hook.

I’ll admit. Martin does utilize a few gimmicks: he has a gritty low fantasy style and often kills off main characters.

Imagine if he stamped a pitch on the cover of his first novel: ‘People will die!!!’. Now, imagine if he focused on that and that only, merely writing a serviceable storyline; one that was just enough to push the storyline along to the subsequent gory deaths. I think he would’ve had flash-in-the-pan success and nothing more. And then he’d have been forgotten alongside the sixty other novels that came out that year that featured some random gimmick and bad writing—but with huge releases, lots of initial sales, and maybe even outselling some of the great books with rock-solid writing that came out that same year. But I’m sure you can guess what’s still findable on the shelves today.

In the short run, gimmicks might get a writer far. But in the long run, gimmicks don’t make up for bad writing; they complement good writing.

Star Wars came out in 1977. The special effects, while cutting-edge for their time, are obviously outdated today. And there were many gimmicks: the force, light sabers, etc. But the writing was so strong that people still enjoy it today. 

Orca came out in 1977, too. The gimmick was to take the idea of Jaws and use a killer whale instead. The writing was merely serviceable, and the movie has been all but forgotten.

Maybe those are extreme examples. But I certainly don’t want to write another Orca. I’d rather put forth the effort it takes to write a Dark Knight, a Game of Thrones, an Eye of the World, or a Watchmen. 

That’s the kind of quality I want to aspire to. If I ever produce anything even halfway comparable to any of those, I can die a happy man.

Meanwhile, there’s always going to be writers in the ‘biz that want to get rich quick. Attention-getting gimmicks with bad writing are always going to come and go. And there’s going to be people who’ll buy into the hype machine every time, maybe even seeing that movie ten times or buying copies of that book for all their friends.

I acknowledge that many people aren’t looking for the same things that I am in their stories. First of all, ‘good writing’ is subjective. And secondly, they may very well be looking for the instant-gratification only a popcorn muncher with cool special effects can bring. And that’s okay, too.

Gimmicks ultimately can’t compensate for bad writing tells us writers that we don’t have to worry about it when bad writing finds great success; we don’t have to sweat the luck those flash-in-the-pan authors are having. Because they honestly don’t know what they’re missing.