Is writing a technical skill that can be learned, practiced and polished? Or, is there an ineffable quality to writing that springs from a unique imagination? Writers, critics, and philosophers have long considered this question, with coteries of different eras swaying the consensus to one side or the other of the genius/technique dichotomy. Romantic writers in the late 18th and early 19th century were particularly interested in standout literary geniuses whom they elevated as divinely inspired. By contrast, a generation later, many writers of the late 19th and early 20th century dismantled notions of literary genius, substituting in the hard-working professional writer, whose craft was the product of training and practice. The early 20th century saw the proliferation of manuals and devices that promised to teach the practice of writing like any other artisanal skill. As William Wallace Cook, author of The Fiction Factory (1912) , wrote, “A writer is neither better nor worse than any other man who happens to be in trade.” These writing aids also arrived at a time when literacy rates improved drastically and the demand for literary products skyrocketed, creating a new working class of writers generating material for mass-market books, theater, and film. This case explores some notable examples on each side of the genius-technique debate.