Reading What You Ought To

Okay, I'm going to confess. I've given up on Henry James. I started reading What Maisie Knew because so many people told me I 'ought' to and struggled along with it. I liked the contrast between the innocent child's viewpoint and the machinations of the adults squabbling and lying and manipulating over her head, but it's wordy beyond belief and Maisie herself has no more personality than a mass produced rag doll. I am afraid that I will never know what exactly it was that Maisie knew.

Other books I've given up on include Finnegan's Wake, To The Lighthouse, Middlemarch, although I have read War and Peace it was a very long time ago, and I don't intend to have a re-read any time soon. More recently I've started, but not finished, Midnight's Children, We Need To Talk About Kevin, and The Raj Quartet.

Just writing the words above makes me feel a bit guilty, as if I've failed some important test. And maybe for some people I have. But why? We can't read everything on the planet, and even if we could, why should we? Reading novels is about entertainment, and there seems to me to be no reason why what entertains me should entertain you, and vice versa.

It also takes no account of the life stages we go through. In my teens I started with Georgette Heyer and Jean Plaidy, then gobbled down detective novels, followed by science fantasy before moving on to the complete works of Anthony Trollope in my 20s. In my 30s I read gardening books and lifestyle magazines - but I haven't touched either for years. I've changed my tastes over time and why not?

Being told I 'ought' to read something puts me against it. I'm sure I didn't like The Artist as much as other people seem to have done because all the reviews implied that you 'ought' to, so that put me in a resistant mood from the start.

I would agree that you ought to be kind to those weaker than oneself, or that you ought not to lie or steal or cheat, but reading isn't some moral decision. It can be informative, thought-provoking, mind-expanding and utterly absorbing, but it is, at heart, a form of entertainment. And there's no ought about it.

Workshoppers and Readers - Why You Need Both

I am a BIG fan of workshopping - giving and getting feedback is the quickest way to develop as a writer, in my opinion. But it shouldn't be used as the only method of working on a novel.

The problem is that workshops, by their nature, can only look at small pieces at a time - a chapter or maybe two would be the maximum. You can (and should) edit each section thoroughly but be careful of losing sight of the bigger picture. The question 'Does the story work?' can only be answered by looking at the novel as a whole, not in little sections.

So, you need to find some people who will be readers. It's a good idea if they can be different to your workshoppers so they can come to the story fresh. It's good if they're writers too, but they don't have to be, so long as they read your genre. That's essential. Ask them about the story, ask them about how the characters are coming across, ask them about pace. Don't ask them to do a line edit - leave that for your workshop group.

I know several people who have spent years workshopping their novels, when IMO they'd be better off sending it out to readers. I understand why people do this - no one wants to ask a friend (let alone a book doctor) to commit several hours of their time to reading your novel until it's as perfect as you can possibly make it - but at some point it has to be done.

The perfect pattern would be: workshop until the first draft is done. Then send it out to readers, to check the story as whole works. Then back to workshopping to refine the text. Repeat as required.

Think of your editing as beautiful embroidery on a dress. There's little point in doing the finest work if the fabric of the dress is poor, or the style is wrong. Getting that right is what a reader will help you to do, and the workshop will help with the embroidery.

Why Writers Should Also Be Readers

So there I was, thinking about what to blog today and not coming up with anything inspired when someone told me that they wrote poetry, but never read poetry. They must have registered the expression on my face because they then giggled and said they liked poetry, just never read it.

Which did make me wonder, if they never read it, how they knew they liked it? Or did they just like their own? Which is an understandable position to take I suppose. I've had students in the past who say they want to write a novel, but don't have time to read them. I've even once been told by a would-be writer that they don't see the point of novels - not that that was going to stop them from writing their own and making a million (as one does).

But...how do you think Austen, Dickens, Conrad, Tolstoy (add any author whose work you enjoy who was writing pre WWI) learned their craft? There weren't creative writing classes to go to, or creative writing books. They learned from reading. And from the theatre and hearing story tellers, but primarily from their own reading.

You should read extensively in the area that you wish to write. If you read westerns, that's what you should be writing. There's no point in wishfully dreaming about winning the Booker with your novel if your internal compass is pointing to romantic fiction. By reading within your area you get an instinctive grasp on the rules. That way you can choose to break them. You'll also know when you've genuinely got a new idea, or where your idea fits into the market.

Reading hot wires your brain first to recognise good writing, and then to write it yourself. Ask around and you won't find many published novelists who aren't readers. Reading is the breathing in, and writing is the breathing out. The two go together.

And besides, if you don't read other people, how can you expect anyone to read you?

PS I'll write about voice/influence in the next post.

NEW!!! I've finally got round to organising some course dates....

How to WRITE a Novel: London 3rd May/Birmingham 7th May/

Oxford 8th May/Exeter 21st May/Bath 12th June

How to SELL a Novel: London 24th May/Exeter 4th June/

Bath 3rd July Details are on my website

Reading and Breathing

A student was talking about wanting to be a writer, but finding it difficult to work out what area they wanted to write in. I asked what they read. They looked at me goggle eyed. 'Oh,' he said. 'I don't have time for reading.'

I think you can't be a writer unless you're a reader too. It may be that you read less right now, but at some point I think all writers have been avid readers. It's how we learn. Just think: Jane Austen never read a How to Write a Novel book, but she still managed to write perfectly structured novels because she'd been a reader first.

You have to read. Reading is the breathing in, writing the breathing out. I don't think it matters much what you read, but I'd suggest that your favourite genre is where you should be writing. You'll have unconsciously absorbed the way the stories are told, the conventions and how some writers break them with success - or otherwise. And unless you understand what the reading experience is like, how can you write it for anyone else?

Reading, reading, reading. It's the greatest How to Write guide there is.

Reading and Ice Skating

Someone recently emailed me and asked whether I thought they should read fiction as they want to write fiction. They had read fiction in the past, but at the moment they were mainly reading non-fiction.

I replied that it was a bit like me and ice skating. I can't do it - has no one noticed that ice is slippery? When I watch skaters I am awestruck. I think they're all brilliant. If it's the Olympics they're even more brilliant, which is about the limit of my critical facility. I can't even tell the difference between a triple axel or a double, it's all too fast and whizzy.

But if I watched lots of skating I'm fairly sure that I would gradually learn to distinguish one skater from another. (Only fairly sure it has to be admitted. Skating really isn't my thing.) And the more I watched the better I'd get at distinguishing the good from the brilliant, the average from the okay.

Reading is the same. The more you read, the better you become as a reader. And you learn what makes something work, or not work, by osmosis. Hopefully you can then transfer that knowledge to your writing. Now, it may be that you've read so much in the past the knowledge is hard wired into your system and you don't need to read so much now. But I think it's fair to say that most - all? - writers have been at some time heavy duty readers.

Workshop Woes

Your palms are hot and sweaty, your mouth is dry. The blood pounds in your ears so hard you can’t hear what anyone is saying. You think you might be having a heart attack. Vaguely, through misty eyes, you see the workshop leader nod in your direction and mouth your name. Yup, it’s your turn to read.

Sharing work is a bit like placing your precious baby on the ground and inviting all and sundry to bash its little brains out. But it has to be done because reading out work in a workshop is one of the quickest ways to improve. Firstly, what seemed all right when it was just you and your laptop now issues forth in leaden dollops. Did I really write this, you think. It’s dreadful. And I’ve just shifted Point of View again. Having an audience sharpens your senses; you hear what they're hearing, not how it sounds in your head. Secondly, there is feedback, ideally specific feedback. You’ll never improve if all the feedback you get is of the ‘that’s lovely’ kind. Ask why it’s lovely – is it the language, the characterisation, the detail…? Stuck with a bunch of ‘it’s lovely’ bleaters, you've got to ask questions as relentlessly as Jeremy Paxman interviewing a dodgy politician: which character did you like best? Could you imagine the setting? What mood did it create for you?

Then, having read, you can relax and listen to someone else. And, surprise surprise, it’s much easier to learn from critiquing another’s work than it is to learn from your own. Again, be as specific as you can. Is the third paragraph too long, could it be sharpened, are there too many adjectives? Is the structure right – does the piece open in the right place, does the ending work? Is the dialogue being used effectively or is it simply waffle? Practice being an editor.

We start as readers first, then become writers. Somewhere along the line we must also learn to be editors, and to work with editors. Workshopping shortcuts the process. The only problem is, somehow it’s always your favourite, most beloved baby that gets the worst battering. And that's really hard. But hey - welcome to the life of a writer.