But still, I am sorry.

Now, one traditional piece of advice that is often offered to writers is that if you want to become a great writer, you should read great books.

I have ignored this advice (which probably explains everything you need to know about my own writing), because I reckon you can learn more from studying your favorite authors rather than forcing yourself to read quality literature. Which doesn't hold if your favorite authors happen to be giants of literature.

I also believe you can learn even more by studying bad books. At the very least you receive the double-edged confidence boost/fall-into-that-pit-of-despair -

I can write better fiction than this and this book got published!

But studying bad writing can also show you what doesn't work far more readily than the soul-destroying task of studying good writing.

And to that end, studying the style of one particular author, I'll call him A. B. Smith, helped me the most. Here is one of the many valuable skills I learnt from A. B. Smith's writing, along with a final apology for picking fault.

A typical scene from one of his western novels might be as follows :

John went into a saloon and went to the bar.

'Howdy,' John said to the man, who was already standing at the bar and was called Jim.

'Howdy,' Jim replied.

'Ain't seen you around these parts for a while,' the fair-haired Texan maligned.

'Been riding for the Lazy T ranch,' the colt-wearing man from Arizona averred.

'That explains plenty. Whiskey?' the Stetson-clad man offered.

'Nope. I'll have a beer,' the moustache-clad rancher expulsified.

'I'll get one ordered,' the bearded cowpoke volunteered.

...

At this point confusion grabs hold of the reader--just who are all these people?

But that's just the start of the confusion because at this point the bartender, a jovial drinks dispenser, a ruddy-faced salesman, and a cheerful barkeep arrive.

The ten men at the bar order a drink from these men, but then two of them offer a drink to Sally, then strike up a conversation with her friends, the raven-haired temptress, the feisty southern belle, and the heavily-bosomed saloon-girl.

These women accept the drink, but Big Dawson, and several other nasty types including the mean-eyed gun-toter, the grizzled gunslinger, and the nasty varmint take exception to at least three of the people talking to these women.

But just when a fight is about to break out Sheriff Jones, the dark-haired young man, the Peacemaker-packing lawman, and the noble defender of the law wander into the saloon and quieten things down.

And just when you think that the saloon surely can't hold any more people and they're all facing off, maligning, and extorting, and evoking at each other, you crack the code and realize that there's only five people taking part in this scene.

A. B. Smith's weird dialogue tags and refusal to use consistent character names generate enough confusion, but that's just the start of the barriers A. B. Smith places before the bewildered reader.

I could go on, but I really do hate knocking A. B. Smith any more. But I'd urge you to study your own favorite bad writer and see what you can learn from him about what not to do.

Or you can ignore everything that you've learnt and be highly successful.

It's an odd world this writing business.