Into the Fire

The problem with reading is . . . when you’re jammin’ through the novels, not meaning to create a blur, paying attention to the story, sometimes the stories run together. You try to be selective, picking a genre of interest, engaging unfamiliar authors as well as your old standbys.

But then you start noticing the “tricks of the trade”. Zoom into the first chapter. Geared to entice. Lots of active verbs. Metaphors which either work or really don’t.

As writers, reading is a tool. Besides being a pleasure, enjoyable, a pastime, or a hobby, for a writer it is a requirement. Some writers, agents, and editors will tell you they not only read novels, they read the “teaching” books—the manuals, if you will, of writing fiction. And each generation seems to produce its own particular version of instructions. Some of those suggested methods overlap, but others are unique to the culture of the era.

It’s difficult when you begin to read with a critical eye or when you’re more aware of the methodology of a book than you are the story. The structure is predictable, and you might not know exactly what to expect from the characters, but you sense when it will happen and have an idea how it will end. And some of that is okay. But some of it isn’t, too. Some of it makes the book forgettable.

Every avid reader has favorite authors, styles, and genres. Some of us read to savor and are able to spend time in a book. Others of us hustle through a story and figuratively record it in our minds. However, after awhile, say four or five novels in a short period of time, if none of them linger, chances are in a month or two we may not even remember the characters’ names or their conflicts. Most of us who read a lot accept that every book does not make an impact—of course we’d like them to, and so would their authors. The real disappointment comes when what we read feels like cookie-cutter stories even though they’re in different genres—subjects, places, and people: all unlike each other. Yet they feel the same somehow.

The problem with reading is that sometimes what we read does not captivate us or remain with us or give us pause to admire the story. Sometimes the problem with reading is that we can’t separate what we’ve come to learn is typical for published novels, and instead of dwelling on the effectiveness of the story, we see the operation of certain applied skills.

. . . and sometimes it kind of ruins the fun of reading.

Father, you have specific places and audiences for our writings. You give the talent and gifts and directions if we’re attentive to your instruction. Let me have ears to hear, and the heart to obey. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.