Writing being largely a self-taught occupation, texts on how to get about it

　　-though great in number- seldom are of much use. You try, and fail.Then try again, and perhaps fail not quite so grievously.Until at last, if you have some gift for it, the failures become less frequent, or at any rate less noticeable. It is this ability to

　　conceal one's defects(瑕疵)that passes, finally, for accomplishment. Along the way there are the discouragements of unkind criticism, outright rejection, nagging insecurity and irregular inability to meet debts. It is uncommon, therefore, to come across a book containing advice of much practical value for anyone toying with the

　　dangerous idea of staring on a writing l ife. A friend recently loaned me such a book, however - one I wish I'd had the luck to read years ago, and which I would commend to any young person bent on making a career of words.It is the autobiography of the

　　English novelist Anthony Trollope, first published in 1883, the year after hi s death. Needing s ome means to support himself, Trollope at age 19 signed on as a junior clerk in the British postal service.

　　He was at his desk at 5:30 each morning to write for three hours.And he remained in the mail service 33 years, long after reputation and prosperity had come to him. Now, what of his advice?

　　1.For safety's sak e, a rm yourself with some other skills, some other line of work to fall back on.That way, failure at writing, though the disappointment may be keen, will not mean utter ruin.

　　2.Do not depend overly much on inspiration.Writing is a craft, which Trollope compared to the craft of shoemaking.The shoemaker who has just turned out one pair of his work sets to work immediately on the next pair.

　　3.Have a story to tell, but, more important t han that, people it with characters who will speak and move as living creatures in the reader's mind.Without memorable characters, story alone is nothing.