I’ve been having trouble reading fiction for some time. I’m not sure why -- it’s me, not the stories -- but I seem unable to focus. Anyway, last night I gave up on trying anything new and pulled out a tried-and-true favorite.
As I slowly scanned it, paragraph by paragraph, wondering at all that happened between the lines, it occurred to me what a strange, magical thing storytelling is.
When it works, it’s incredible. You’re there. You’re in that world, you’re feeling everything the characters feel, even as you’re predicting -- as they cannot -- what the outcome of their adventures will be. I think one of the most wonderful things about fiction is its ability to transport us, to make us part of another world, to live through other characters for a little while. For a short time the concerns of these characters seem more important than your own. Maybe that’s why good fiction is both exciting and relaxing.
Even a story that I’ve read as often as I have this one -- and even though this story is flawed (there’s a significant gap where characters who are out for a walk in the afternoon are suddenly home in bed at one in the morning) -- I love it. I keep poring over it as though it were a mystical text, wondering at the bits that were left out, wondering at the scenes that went unwritten, wondering what happened to the characters after the final page is turned. What did they say? What did they do? What exactly did that look mean?
I read it again and again, knowing that nothing will change -- nothing will have been added while I wasn’t looking, and everything still works out in the end -- yet I keep reading, keep wincing at the cruel words, smiling at the jokes, feeling relief when it all turns out happy.
Of course as a writer, it’s a little different. I can feel this for other stories, but I can’t feel it for my own. Readers write to tell me how much they worry about Adrien and Jake or how they hope everything turned out for James and Sedge or how they can’t wait until the next Will and Taylor story. Is Taylor's lung okay? Is Will going to cheat? They ask questions and analyze and…they are clearly as involved in the stories I write as I am -- though in a different way. They are as involved as I am in the stories of the authors I love. But for my own work…it’s not there. I can never see these stories as a reader does. I can never be moved by them the same way. They are never real to me in the same way.
That’s not to say that I’m not moved when I write my stories, or that I don’t lose myself in the world of my imagination -- I absolutely am and do. In fact, writing is almost like a drug. A dream. A waking dream. When you’re deep into the zone…when you’re at the point that even when you’re not writing, you’re still running the dialog, working out the plot knots, thinking through the character’s eyes…there’s nothing like it. It’s more intense than any book (though not nearly as relaxing or exciting).
It’s intense, but it’s not the same thing.
So it’s fascinating to watch readers react to the things you create. I totally understand where they’re coming from because first and foremost I am a passionate lover of books and stories. And it’s touching to think that I can do for some readers what my favorite writers do for me.
And I can even sympathize when they suggest that I write this rather than that. I feel that too. Why didn't my favorite writer ever write this scene? Why didn't she do a story where that happened? But being a writer, I know it doesn't work like that. First and foremost you have to enjoy what you write. We write for ourselves. We publish for others. I write what I like and I publish in the hopes that enough readers will enjoy my stories to make it worth my while to share them. I choose to share them, but I'd continue to write whether I published or not.
It's still a surprise -- and a delight -- that so many readers do like what I do. But for those who want me to write something else, all I can do is gently point out that first and foremost I have to enjoy what I write. The stories come to me and I like certain kinds of stories. Those certain kinds of stories are the ones I'm interested in writing. Lovely if our literary wants and needs coincide, but either way, I can only write what moves me to write.
And yet I do sympathize as I pore over this beloved story one more time, silently bemoaning the scenes the author skipped, and the conversations the characters didn't have, and -- worst of all -- the fact that this author quit writing all together. So few stories! Why did she do that? And is there a way to talk her round to starting up again?
Can you be persuaded back to loving something once you've moved on to something else? I've never found that to be true of myself. Maybe.
Just some thoughts for a rainy afternoon…
7 comments:
Very well put, Josh. It's a different take, when you're a writer. Good, but different.
I wonder, do you find it hard to stop being a writer when you're reading?
I find it hardest when the book fails to pull me in. I wind up re-writing the book in my head, and losing the enjoyment of the read.
I think that is part of the current problem Lynn. Compounded by the fact that I now do so many manuscript evaluations that even when I'm not on the clock...I'm mentally blue penciling as I go. Even if I'm loving the work, it's still more of a critical appraisal, an admiration of how the writer achieved what they did, how he/she managed this effect versus that, taking notes for my own work.
Very rarely can I just let go and read for pure enjoyment. And I do miss that.
There is nothing nicer than loosing yourself in a book. You're right, it is magic.
Very interesting, Josh. I agree in part. Most of my characters I love while I'm writing their story but once it's done, I don't revisit it or them. But I also get readers who ask why such and such did that and what happened to so and so. I ended up writing another book to follow the story of one minor character.
But there's one of my books, I can't let the characters go. The story makes me cry when I read it. I know that sounds terrible but there is something special about my relationship with the hero and heroine that I don't have in my other stories. I don't identify with these two particularly, we have NOTHING in common but I just slide straight into their world.
It's the feeling I get when I revisit old favorites. Stories that I KNOW won't let me down. I've become so much more picky now I'm published. Much less tolerant of books that I don't 'get'. I recently read 32 while on holiday and three were keepers that I will read again. Just happened to include one of yours!!
barbara elsborg
But there's one of my books, I can't let the characters go. The story makes me cry when I read it. I know that sounds terrible but there is something special about my relationship with the hero and heroine that I don't have in my other stories. I don't identify with these two particularly, we have NOTHING in common but I just slide straight into their world.
I understand, Barbara. That's how the Adrien English series is for me. However, neither of us, no matter how much we love the characters or are invested in the world, can ever view the work with the complete objectivity and detachment of a reader -- whether a reader who adores the book or one who detests it.
Well, wait. One possibility is that you view it after so much time has passed that you've essentially forgotten it. I've done that with works I did long, long ago. And then you really do see it as a stranger does. I've looked at stories and thought...where the heck did I come up with that?
In both good and bad ways. ;-D
There is nothing nicer than loosing yourself in a book. You're right, it is magic.
And it's still one of the cheapest forms of entertainment around!
The sad thing is, not long has to pass before I think - where the heck did I come up with that.
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