Reading While Writing Books
For many years, I have typically read five books at once, which is not so much a sign of my compulsion to read, but of a tendency to start a book and then not finish it. No more! Now I read one book at a time, and try my best to finish it. Perhaps I owe my new, more disciplined style of reading – and my more organised bedside table – to the advent of writing my own books.
When penning my memoir over several years, especially latterly, I decided I did not read books by other authors. Somehow, they were a distraction. And although I could have done with some of those, even so, I found that the bulk of my usual reading – which I have always enjoyed for itself and found helpful as research – about buxom, winsome wenches and Colonel Brandon-style heroes, was too far from what I was doing then, to feel as if it contributed in any way to my main obsession with getting my own book finished. Even for comfort and light relief, I felt disinclined to take up reading matter, except for a very few, reliably amusing authors.
One I recall is Marian Keyes, who though writing women’s fiction with an eye for the happy ending, does so with clarity, wit and humour that I relate to, reminding me of the values in everyday, human contact. There is a human quality of pathos underneath her writing which feels tangibly real and very funny.
And now, after a stint at MBS – writing books which I have used to try and teach me more about the realities of life – I am firmly enjoying writing women’s fiction, which I enjoy and find rewarding. The genre contains disciplines all its own, and encourages me to creative attempts which I have previously assumed were the privilege of better writers than me.
I am delighted to notice that in the context of creating women’s fiction, reading any books helps with the challenges of writing. Both to discover what I like, and what does not work for me, every book is instructive, and every hero and heroine teaches me a bit more about the crafting delights of fiction. And if I chance upon a truly awful book – rarely – this is a most useful spur to get my own writing.
Can you suggest any authors I might try?
Please share:
August 31, 2016
Reading Reviews
Fran Macilvey 'Trapped: My Life with Cerebral Palsy', Fran Macilvey, Fran's School of Hard Knocks, Path To Publication, The Rights & Wrongs of Writing 0 Comments
Reading reviews
As a younger, greenstick author, I got caught up in reading reviews of my book all the time. Authorship is nerve-racking, as we launch our work in the public sphere and hope it floats. As part of that process, we wait and watch, notice what happens, and naturally hope that our work fares well. But now, I see, I was also waiting for the punishing crit, which has – thankfully – not materialised. If it had, it would have demolished me inside, left me a crumbling, doubting wreck. So why did I go looking? Are authors naturally masochistic?
I think we scout around reviews and such, in part because we crave reassurance that the story we have told, carved from the huge granite block of our experiences, views and fantasies is the right one, that it hits a right spot, conveys at least something of what we want it to. (In that way, we don’t need crits, because we are only too aware of the faults in our work, the paths we might have trod, the words we didn’t say….)
In the internet age, it is seen as part of our on-line engagement, to look at reviews, comment, thank, and generally spread the word. But, suspecting that a habit of scanning the on-line horizon for signs of trouble is rarely a way to read anything good, and that doing so can become an endless preoccupation, I rarely read reviews now, and seldom comment directly. Faced with real, hard, time-to-grow-up challenges lately, I haven’t time to think, either, about what people might write or say about what I have said and written, though I try to write honestly, and to comment sincerely.
I recognise that a less than flattering review is part of the legitimacy we seek for our work, our authorship. In some way, seeing the whole range of views given, is a compliment of sorts, anchoring our determination firmly in the public sphere and strengthening our resolve to accept whatever comes along. If we doubt this, we might wonder, are we frightened to let our work speak for itself?
Please share: