Let Snoopy Tell You How Not to Write!

I am a lifelong Peanuts fan. I am also an aspiring writer. So I was justifiably tickled when my mom bought me Snoopy’s Guide to the Writing Life. It’s not exactly a collegiate primer to the writing life, but to be honest, I’ve never found writing instructional books to be particularly effective for me. And who wants to read something collegiate during the beginning of the first school year following college graduation? This is a pretty quick read, with only the Forward and Introduction taking some time to read. The remainder of the book consists of short reflections by 30 different writers in response to a particular Peanuts strip related to writing. Several strips act as transitions from one reflection to the next.

The Forward by Monte Schulz, son of Peanuts creator Charles Schulz, discusses the cartoonist’s love of literature, which he and Monte came to share. There is also a discussion of the impact Schulz had in his medium, despite his feeling that his offering was lowly in comparison with the authors of great literature. One particularly enjoyable anecdote features Schulz at a restaurant with his daughter. He noticed that legendary actors Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor were seated nearby and expressed his desire to introduce himself and say how much he admired them. However, he did not want to bother them and felt unworthy to approach. Suddenly he heard a voice behind him speak his name, and there were Burton and Taylor, telling him that they hated to intrude but wanted to tell him how much they loved his cartoons.

Conrad provides insight into Schulz’s life and discusses his history and the thought that went into his work. He also touches on the widespread appeal of Peanuts and on the cartoonist’s love of the written word. This portion ends with an acknowledgement to all the writers who participated in this book and prints the most unique letter declining the offer, from John Updike. One of the few who passed up the invitation, Updike said that he was no good at giving advice and that if he had something really good, he would keep it to himself because there are too many writers out there trying to get published.

The essays contained herein are brief, focusing on various aspects of the writing life, from trying to come up with an idea and dealing with criticism to figuring out what is funny and picking a good title. I’ll admit I’d never heard of many of these authors before, but their credits are good and their advice sound. Among the most famous: Danielle Steel (who writes of the feeling, after she has finished a book, that she was merely the instrument by which it was written), Ray Bradbury (who says that he has had stories rejected hundreds of times), and Julia Child (who offers her advice on writing a cookbook). Most essays take about five minutes to read but contain worthwhile information nonetheless.

The highlight for me, though, is the strips. It’s great to have all these writers come together to celebrate Snoopy’s connection to writing, but Snoopy himself steals the show. A couple years ago, a couple friends and I started a weekly writing club with Snoopy as our unofficial mascot. I brought in whatever Snoopy writing comics I could find as inspiration. Poor Snoopy serves as the perfect example of a publisher’s worst nightmare. Young writers can look at everything he does and make a note not to repeat it themselves. Meanwhile, the editors he sends his work to are indicative of the stereotypical response of publishers to young writers. Here, they become the most cold-hearted discouraging people imaginable. To add insult to injury, Snoopy must endure the constant insults and suggestions of Lucy, the born critic.

Not all of the strips feature Snoopy, but most do. There is a curious predictability to his movements that somehow makes me laugh in spite of the fact that I guessed the punch line in the first frame. Many of his stories, of course, begin with the famous “It was a dark and stormy night.” This is usually followed by “Suddenly, a shot rang out!” or some variation thereof; for instance, when Lucy complains of the abundance of violence in the world, Snoopy changes the word “shot” to “kiss.”

Sometimes, he has trouble getting as far as the first word; in one strip, he labors over the beginning, “The,” and presents it to Linus, who responds unfavorably, leading Snoopy to change the beginning to “It.” Other times, he can’t seem to figure out when to quit: “those years in Paris were to be among the finest of her life. Looking back, she once remarked, ‘Those years in Paris were among the finest of my life.’ That was what she said when she looked back upon those years in Paris where she spent some of the finest years of her life.”

Lucy often suggests that Snoopy write a book like a certain existing literary work. Thus, Treasure Island inspires Long John Beagle, Little Women inspires Small Women, and You Can’t Go Home Again inspires You Can Go Home Again If You Want To. Snoopy produces a number of short groaners on his own, picking just the right names for characters in order to set up a particularly pungent pun. All of this work goes well rewarded by the publishers, who send him especially memorable rejection slips, often before he has even sent out his manuscript.

I would recommend this volume to all Peanuts fans, writers or not. Schulz’s strips always seem to be right on target where Snoopy’s writerly plight is concerned. These are among the funniest strips he ever wrote. But the book is especially valuable for writers, giving them a chance to keep the negative example of Snoopy in mind and to laugh at themselves a bit in the process.