Art & Creativity Quote by John Irving

Irving’s line lands like a polite rebuke to the modern cult of output: the idea that a writer’s worth can be measured in daily word counts, rapid releases, or the dopamine hit of “shipping.” Coming from a novelist whose books are famously engineered - braided plots, recurring motifs, that sense of fate tightening its grip - the sentence isn’t romantic advice about “taking your time.” It’s a defense of craft as an ethical stance.

The specific intent is boundary-setting. “No reason” is doing heavy work: Irving isn’t claiming speed is impossible, just that it’s rarely necessary for the kind of novel that aims to last. The subtext is anti-industrial. Publishing incentives push writers toward momentum - to satisfy markets, algorithms, and attention spans that reset every week. Irving’s phrasing rejects that entire tempo. A novel, in his view, isn’t content; it’s construction. You don’t pour a foundation faster because the neighborhood is impatient.

There’s also a quiet provocation in “should.” It’s aimed at the internalized boss in the writer’s head: guilt, comparison, the fear of falling behind. Irving implies that haste often masquerades as discipline but can be closer to anxiety management. Writing slowly isn’t indulgence; it’s a refusal to let external clocks dictate artistic decisions.

Context matters: Irving rose in an era when big, ambitious novels were cultural events and authors could be allowed to disappear for years. The quote reads, now, like a reminder that the novel’s native speed may be out of step with the marketplace - and that’s precisely why it can still matter.