A few weeks ago, I heard an interview with crime author Nigel Bartlett on my favourite writing podcast: So You Want to be a Writer.
In the interview, Nigel spoke about the way the friends he was holidaying with, looked down on his reading matter when he produced a page-turning crime thriller, instead of one of the more literary books he normally forced himself to read. He has now gone on to be a very successful crime writer, so I hope he told his friends to stick that in their pipes and smoke it.
I have to say, as a new writer, I do find a lot of members of the writing fraternity guilty of the same snobbery. I have been accosted a number of times by wannabe writers who have demanded I tell them my favouirte books/ authors. When my answer doesn’t match their far superior literary tastes, the holier-than-thou sneery look they give me lets me know I am now an object of pity, right at the bottom rung of their “worthy of talking to about writing” ladder.
Well, I have news for them. I don’t give a toss about their ladder. I think most of them are phony baloney. Surely, if the number of people who allege to love literary fiction actually loved it, those books would be on best-seller lists, rather than struggling with modest sales.
I am an avid reader. I have pretty much read at least a book a week since I was a kid. During my many decades long love affair with books I have gone through a horror phase, an Austen phase, a feminist phase, a classics phase, a self-help phase, a memoir phase, a crime thriller phase, a chick lit phase, a young adult phase, and yes, of course, a “worthy literarature” phase.
Some of the genres I have read I have fallen deeply in love with, and continue to read to this day. Others have been flings that I look back on with a chuckle. Some books I have read because I felt I ought to. Other books I couldn’t put down. While I can appreciate the “important” tomes, it is the ones that get my heart racing that I really love.
We are all a unique bundle of genes and life experiences, on our own distinct journeys. Why shouldn’t our diversity extend to our reading tastes?
Reading the books you are “meant” to read because they have “literary merit” is a sure-fire way to suck the fun out of reading. The people who tell me they struggle to read a couple of paragraphs the book on their bedside table each night ARE READING THE WRONG BOOK. It’s time to take a different fork in the road.
So how does reading books you don’t love affect your writing? I have not conducted scientific experiments on this, but it seems logical to me that if you write in a way you think will make you seem impressive and “literary”, rather than the way that is true to who you are and what you REALLY like, your reader will be able to tell because your voice will sound self-conscious. And if you don’t even feel comfortable admitting to reading what you like, how are you going to be comfortable writing what you like?
Because if you aren’t comfortable it will show in your voice.
On Grammar Girl’s, Quick and Dirty Tips (http://www.quickanddirtytips.com/education/grammar/understanding-voice-and-tone-in-writing) Julie Wildhaber describes it this way…
Voice is the distinct personality, style, or point of view of a piece of writing or any other creative work. Voice is what Simon Cowell is talking about when he tells "American Idol" contestants to make a song their own and not just do a note-for-note karaoke version. Many musicians have played "The Star-Spangled Banner," for instance, but there's a world of difference between the Boston Pops' performance and Jimi Hendrix's, even though the basic melody is the same.
From the reading I have done, voice is the one thing that can’t really be taught. It is the thing you as a writer need to discover for yourself, and my non-scientific theory is that it is closely connected to knowing who you really are, including being true to the types of books you really, in your heart of hearts, like to read.
Do you think being true to yourself as a reader could help unlock your writers voice?
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