Barbara: I’ll get to the reading 101 potion of this post in a moment, but first I want to ask why are we so good at doing what we love when we’re kids––easily ignoring the nagging reality of chores and duties––and then when we get older, we only heed the nagging reality of chores and duties because we no longer have TIME to do what makes us feel good??? I mean who among us hasn’t heard or given this excuse: I would read a novel/write a novel/exercise … when I have more TIME. This ties in to the bigger question: why do we always stick with the more exhausting, traumatic thing in our lives when we know the pleasant solution will make our lives better and richer (I will break up with that lead-weight of a friend/lover/job when it’s a better TIIIIIIME)??? Let’s just say that that question is beyond my scope.
Okay, so now to reading 101. I have heard so many people bemoan the fact that they don’t have time to read books (*cough* my husband *cough*) and so they don’t. Even I have been known to slap that ol’ excuse on the table from time to time. Add to that the depressing news in the daily papers about the demise of the publishing industry, and it makes a person despair the future of writing, especially fiction writing. And just as I was despairing, my husband started reading again … a lot. And watching his rediscovered ardour made me reconsider the often critically-maligned but ever-popular “page-turner”.
I’ve been trying to write a working novel for the last like, oh, give or take a month or so … TEN years. The verdict was always the same: writing okay, narrative drive lacking (or bumpy or inconsistent, etc, etc). So I’ve started to pick up some “page-turning” books to get a sense of how that driving narrative works in successful stories. And, man, it’s been fun!! There really is something magical about being so caught up in a book you can’t (as I found myself doing this morning) put it down while you’re also trying to load the dishwasher or eating your breakfast of fried eggs on toast.
I have read some brilliant literary books in my time: Michael Ondaatje’s In the Skin of a Lion, Gil Anderson’s The Outlander (no, not the page-turning British one, but the brilliant Canadian one), among others, and they certainly have narrative drive on top of their utterly breathtaking language. But I’ve never found myself simultaneously soaping a steaming hot frying pan while also balancing the 2-lb hard-cover in the crook of my elbow and peering through newly-acquired reading glasses. The truth is, I will always fundamentally prefer literary novels, but on the other hand, man, that Stephen King guy sure knows what he’s doing with a story. And he’s no hack with the language either (unlike many of the other page-turners I’ve tried).
And so today I realized, the novel will never die. It can’t. Because it (regardless of its pedigree) is an experience that is of itself. It is heart-pounding, life-changing, mood-lifting, emotion-swelling wonderfulness. The novel is dead? No way. Long live the novel.
Deb: LONG LIVE THE NOVEL. Yes, I agree! I am also one of those people who struggles to find the time to read. I Iisten to books on CD in the car and go through one a week but I can sit with an actual book for months. I know that people will always read, but I wonder how many generations from now will actually finger the lovely pages of a book. I love reading my KOBO but I also love gently cracking the spine of a new book and the smell of the leather and the teeny sound of the flip of pages. I hope humans continue to love the actual book. Only time will tell.
Deb: LONG LIVE THE NOVEL. Yes, I agree! I am also one of those people who struggles to find the time to read. I Iisten to books on CD in the car and go through one a week but I can sit with an actual book for months. I know that people will always read, but I wonder how many generations from now will actually finger the lovely pages of a book. I love reading my KOBO but I also love gently cracking the spine of a new book and the smell of the leather and the teeny sound of the flip of pages. I hope humans continue to love the actual book. Only time will tell.
