Many of us have a word that often escapes our memories. Funny enough, the word I used to forget the most was “articulate.” People would laugh when I told them that, but it was so difficult to yank that word out of my brain that I wrote it down on the inside flap of a little notebook I used to carry around all the time. When I think back to that now, it seems symbolic of a larger issue.
fiction
The Year in Reading
Is it me, or has this been a year of fantastic novels? Right off the top of my head I can think of Night Circus, Before I Go to Sleep, A Visit from the Goon Squad, Sarah Thornhill, Room, and The Tiger’s Wife. There were so many wonderful stories, I’m sure I’ve had my best reading year in a long while. I deplore the arbitrary nature of lists, so I won’t get into that here (though if anyone wants to stick my book on one, I’m not going to pull a Jonathan Franzen), but I’ll also say I was pointed to a ton of vintage reads, either by recommendation, happy accident, by way of research (one book leads to another leads to another and so on), or simply scouring used bookstores or op shops.
Books Aren’t Good Enough
I have a prediction: the public will soon be divided into two camps. On the one hand we’ll have these new technology enthusiasts, who not only love their ebooks, but can’t wait to see how the old skool words-on-a-page notion of books can be heightened, made more graphic, more interactive, more like a whole new category of technology—a mook or a boovie. And on the other hand will be people like me, who love books because they are in fact merely words-on-a-page that when done properly, can create a world all their own. People like me might be a minority, but we’ll catch momentum when the nostalgia trend peaks again, and it’s suddenly cool to be old skool.
Should a Pulitzer Prize Winner be Boring?
As a novelist, the reader’s experience is foremost in my mind. I certainly admit it took a few goes to truly understand what that meant and how to go about muscling up my offerings, but now I’ve got a firm grasp, I do my best to make sure I never let go. How do I keep Joe Reader involved? In suspense? Emotionally heightened? Turning the page? Empathizing with the characters? And so, when the other day, my father-in-law picked up a gold-medallioned novel I’d purchased for our holiday, and said, “I’m always wary of Pulitzer Prize winners,” his disappointment stuck with me. Why should he be let down by a book granted such high honors? If a book’s at the top of the list, shouldn’t it above all else be a good read?
A Time to Grow
Consistent, scheduled writing is the best way to improve your fiction craft. This is my view and I’m sticking to it. And anyone who’s ever attended one of my classes knows what a stickler I am for hammering this regimen into a writer’s head. Still, in accordance with that other directive I so often share, all the fiction craft rules should—at some point—be put aside so you can hunker down on the unique project you’re engaged in . . . and this one is no exception. So, work every day until you can’t? Precisely.