Boredom

Joyce Carol Oates says the only rule in writing is “Don’t Be Boring.”

And I find that liberating. I can put down any words I want, and it’s all righteous and kosher as long as I don’t bore my audience.

But anyone who has ever read a “great” book or watched a “great” movie knows this rule is horse shit. Most of the classic works are, well, kind of boring here and there. They are contemplative. They go slow. They tell stories with care and deliberation.

You know what’s never boring? An action movie full of explosions and car chases, a soap opera, a reality show. In other words, if art is never boring, it’s probably schlock.

Hitchcock used to say that a movie is like a magical piano which can play emotions the way a regular piano plays notes. The filmmaker presses one key and makes the audience feel fear. He presses another key and makes the audience feel joy. Well, one of the keys on the magic piano is boredom, and the great artists are not afraid to press it.

So the truth is a bit more complex than “Don't Be Boring.” Don’t be too boring. But if you want to make prestigious art, maybe something “great,” then do, please, be a little boring here and there. Get the balance right.