Lessons from Proust

1. Read for yourself
Find the people you know in the books you read. Find yourself, even, in the characters of 200 years ago. They say things you have never dared to speak aloud, they feel things you have tried to suppress for fear of being perverse. The author, if he/she is a good one, will describe these feelings better than you can and you will learn that you are not alone. Even Anna Karenina, after all, is petty, insecure and irrational in ways that you have always found shameful in yourself.

2. Take your time
If it takes 17 pages to describe how you can't fall asleep, then take 17 pages. N'allez pas trop vite. Don't jump straight to the meeting, speak first of the rustling of papers, the false sincerity of handshakes, the sweetness of the macaroons. There is more to every story, and anything can be a starting point from which your masterpiece will bloom.

3. Suffer successfully
It's only when you suffer or feel pain that you'll learn something. You wouldn't read up on gastrointestinal machinations until you've suffered indigestion or gastric flu. Suffering is the root of great ideas. If you have syphilis, go and write Fleurs du Mal. Don't be a bad sufferer. Apologise after committing a faux pas, don't take your bitterness out on someone else, don't pretend not to care when you truly desire something that someone else has, if you're ignorant about something, don't be afraid to ask. You can feel sorry for yourself but be honest to your pain.

4. Express your emotions honestly
Avoid clichés. Find your own way to describe the rain, the moon, the Angkor Wat. To rely on worn out phrases is to shut yourself out of your own personal experience and feeling, and to deny that each sunrise, each storm is unique. Don't try to write like someone else. Don't try to talk like someone else. Don't pick up expressions that you've heard other people say just because you think they will make you sound worldly or attractive.