Comfort Reading

When was the last Saturday that you did nothing? I mean, nothing. You didn't grocery shop, do laundry, clean the bathroom, walk the neighbor's dog, shop for jeans at the mall or even get your nails done. In fact, when was the last day that the most strenuous thing you did was make a pot of coffee? That was me. Saturday.

For the last, I don't know, many months, my weekends haven't been my own. I've either gone down to Mom's to help out or I've gone away for a weekend with friends or I've run and done errands. The one thing I haven't done is sit still and do nothing but read, because the minute my sitting goes beyond an hour, the guilt hits and I have to Do Something Productive. Yes, yes, sure. I've got issues. It is right up there with my inability to remain in bed if I think anyone else is up in the house.  But it means my to be read pile is growing ever deeper and wider and now can be contained on three shelves and I don't know how many pages in my Kindle, and my DVR is filling to capacity...

I'm sure I've mentioned this before - the remembered joy of purchasing a favorite author's new book and spending the evening and night reading it. Savoring. Living that moment in that book. And getting up four hours later and going to work. I am older now. Wiser. Or at least less able to work a full day on so little sleep. And for whatever reason, it feels as though the older I get the less time there is in a day and the more items are piled into my not finished pile (and to be read books onto those shelves, etc etc).  But we need these days, I need these days, to read a good book and remember that I love words and stories.

In the last couple years, I've been introduced to the wonderful Regencies written by Carla Kelly. She is a lovely writer, emotional and affirming. Her characters are, well, normal and kind and broken and strong and emotional and self-deprecating and courageous. Many of her stories are about the rising middle class in Britain during and just after the Napoleonic War. Military men, surgeons and doctors, mill owners. Her original Signets sell for upwards of $15 or $20 on Amazon. Sometimes even more. But thank the good Lord for re-issues for the e-reader!

This week, I downloaded two, and on Saturday, I sat and read "Miss Milton Speaks Her Mind." It was like macaroni and cheese, stuffed hamburger, pecan pie and a gin and tonic all rolled into one. Comfort and joy and kindness. With cheese on it.  You know her characters have had pasts, that at some point, life was really difficult. Perhaps even gruesome.  But the hope that she gives in the romantic relationship of the hero and heroine affirms all that is good and can be right with the world. It is a world of acceptance, of warm water, of thick red cloaks given as gifts to downtrodden poor relations.

I have had a particularly shitty last year, and am so behind in everything. There are quilts to be sewn, clothes to be washed, taxes to be completed, furniture to be polished, bathrooms to clean, plants to be planted, the list just keeps getting longer. And the longer it grows, the less am I able to sit and read.  But I took this weekend to be kind to myself. And what better way than with Carla Kelly? Do you have a favorite author that you immerse yourself in as a particular treat? Why her (or him)? Is it the characters she creates or the vividness of her writing? The story itself? Please. Introduce me to your authors!

Reader Response: 50 Shades of Complicated

So the latest buzz on everyone’s lips for weeks has been Fifty Shades of Grey by E. L. James. A few weeks ago, I decided to read it to figure out what all the hype was about even though it’s slightly beyond my usual reading preference. These days, I predominately read and write romance. So Fifty Shades, I thought, would be a stretch for me, since it’s erotica.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a purist. I’m an academic at heart. I love to read. And for a romance reader/writer, I read more broadly than most. I was a reader before I was a writer. I’m curious. I do read outside my genre. Heck, I’m a recovering literature major, so I had to read a wide variety of literature during my undergrad days. I’m used to expanding my horizons.

So when a book hits big, I take a look at it. Because I want to understand why. Why it’s struck such a chord with readers. Why everyone is talking about it. Then, I want to know what I think about the story. It’s a way for me to engage with culture, tap into a cultural understanding, and respond. In some way, I enter into the dialogue. I’m part of the conversation. And I like that aspect.

I read Stieg Larsson’s Girl with the Dragon Tattoo when it rocked the book charts and Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins when it blasted the book and movie charts. But, for me, it all started with Harry Potter and The Sourcer’s Stone and then the  Twilight series. I’ve read authors who are outside my genre just because I’m interested in what makes them work. I’ve read Jonathan Maberry who writes horror/thrillers, Tana French who writes mystery, John Scalzi who writes science fiction and Scott Lynch and Neil Gaiman who writes fantasy. And I’ve loved something about each one of them.

Every one of those books expanded my thinking in ways I’d never dreamed possible. I could see what it was that drew the reader in and gripped them, creating the buzz that sold that book and probably the next and the next, because I felt it. I experienced it for myself. Plus, I’ve now become a die-hard fan of many of these writers.

The story may not have been one I’d have chosen naturally. It might not be my preferred reader fantasy, however, because I was willing to take the ride, I learned something new, something I would have been closed to otherwise. And I like that. As a writer, I want to understand the appeal--what makes this book a bestseller. And why readers love it so much. But more importantly, I want to understand why I like it and what about it moves me.

I’ve heard writers tell me again and again, “I’m too busy to read.” It makes me sad to hear this statement. Because when we’re too busy to read, we’re too busy to understand culture and to engage in what’s moving the people who stand next to us at the train station and who live next door to us. We’re too busy to stay connected and relevant with our own society. And when that happens, I think we become ineffective writers.

The beauty of popular fiction (which you are writing if you write romance, women’s fiction, mystery, thrillers, horror, science fiction, fantasy, YA) is that it taps into popular culture. We can move the masses. We can enter into the discussion and become a voice for Everyman, we can connect people, and teach them. How very cool! All from writing novels and staying engaged.

Even last night when I visited the used book store, I was standing in the science fiction section looking for a China Miéville book when I heard three women who were searching for Ann Bishop books talking about Fifty Shades of Grey. Who would have thought it could happen? Science fiction-fantasy readers talking about an erotic romance? The cross genre appeal of this book (trilogy) has been staggering.

And now, because I've read it, I know why.

First, let me say that at its heart, Fifty Shades (the book and the trilogy) is a romance. The story is boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back. Period. In that respect, it’s romance. Yes, the sex gets hot and has crossed the line into erotica. It’s dark at times. And it’s not my preference in a fantasy. That being said, one of the main points the characters (and thus the author) make is that this book allows readers to safely explore their sensual limits. Bingo! That’s a huge appeal for readers.

Isn’t that what the whole reader experience is all about? We safely explore situations and worlds to find and possibly push our own limits--even our sensual limits, if we extrapolate the definition of sensual to include our five senses. It’s why we read. To feel. To sense. To understand what makes us human.

In romance, the journey is often about love--what makes us love that one particular person. In Fifty Shades, Christian Grey is a compelling character. I’d say his woundedness drives the book. We want to understand why he’s become the man he is and how Ana’s love is going to heal him. For me, that’s what drove the whole book and made me buy book two (and three).

So, whatever you’re writing--mystery, suspense, fantasy--find what it is that makes your book compelling. Is it the character like in Fifty Shades and Girl with the Dragon Tattoo? Or is it the world as in Scott Lynch's books? Or the mystery the reader and the main character need to solve as in Tana French's books? Or is it watching the fear of the unknown or the known develop in front of you as in suspense and horror novels like Maberry's Joe Ledger series? Whatever it is in your writing, find your compelling areas and ramp them up. Give us more. Your readers will love it.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that a reader’s response is complicated because as humans we’re complicated--we bring all of our life experiences to that story, whether it’s a book or movie. And, often, our life experience and preferences shape whether that particular story works for us, if it taps into our fantasy--the fantasy we want to explore in a safe way.

What compels me to read a book may be different than what compels Joe Q. Public. But when you find the common (or uncommon) experience, put it out there. See how your readers respond. You may find your book strikes a chord and lands at the top of the bestseller list to sit there week after week. Yeehaw! But if you never engage, if you never know what’s gone before you or what your peers are writing, you’ll never get there.

So, a few questions to ask yourself:

1.) Are you engaging in the culture by reading or going to the movies or watching television? Yes, it all counts! What medium other than books captures more attention? Movies/television.

2.) What kind of fantasy are you providing your readers?

3.) Do you know what fantasies a reader of your genre wants?

4.) What makes your story/writing compelling? Is it the character? The plot? The world?

5.) Do you give your reader the satisfying off-limits experience they want?

If you’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey, I’d love to hear about what you found compelling. Or, just comment on reader response--yours or what you find from those who read your stories. Let’s start the discussion.

The Magic Ring of Myth: The Stories We Tell and Why We Tell Them

“Religions, philosophies, arts, the social forms of primitive and historic man, prime discoveries in science and technology, the very dreams that blister sleep, boil up from the basic, magic ring of myth.”

~ Joseph Campbell, The Hero With a Thousand Faces

Last weekend, I sat and watched Leap Year which had been newly released to DVD. Okay, so I didn’t just watch it once. I replayed it probably half a dozen times or more. As I studied Amy Adams’ and Matthew Goode’s unlikely courtship on the screen, I tried to figure out why I loved this story so much. Especially since critics had panned the film. The movie had a shelf-life of, what, three days on the big screen? Finally, it struck me late Sunday evening why I’d fallen in love with Leap Year. Something about the romantic comedy tapped into one of my Ur-Stories. These are those myths that are at the core of each story we read, listen to, watch . . . or write. They help us understand the random events of our lives.

I’d first heard of the Ur-Story last summer when mystery writer S. J. Rozan spoke on the topic at Seton Hill University. She addressed the stories that fiction writers tell. Not just the mystery, romance, fantasy, horror, or science fiction dramas you see played out between the pages of so many genre books these days, but the deeper myths that lie at the core of those stories. “Life is what it is; fiction tries to tell you what it’s about,” she said. “The Ur-Stories behind crime fiction, the myths on which it’s based, are two epic battles: between chaos and order, and between good and evil. . . . The stories that interest me, though--the pieces I lift out and present to you--are the ones where order is a mask for evil, where for good to prevail the world has to explode into chaos and not everyone finds a happy ending. That’s like life, and amazingly, it echoes the process itself; the writer’s job is to make order--fiction--out of life, which is chaos.”

What did Leap Year tell me about my own Ur-Stories? I still didn’t know. So I pulled out my copy of Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces to figure it out. How could I be so wrong about Leap Year? I loved this movie. It’s the modern-day self-actualized Cinderella who goes on a quest to an enchanted land to propose to her Prince Charming only to find she’s been mis-cast. She’s really more a Beauty who heals the Beast she finds along the way. And, well, Prince Charming doesn’t really love her. He loves the idea of her as Cinderella. Okay, these are archetypes I enjoy. Cinderella. Beauty and the Beast. But so what?

That’s when I stumbled across Campbell’s discussion on the monomyth and the role these myths play today. He says, “In the absence of an effective general mythology, each of us has his private, unrecognized, rudimentary, yet secretly potent pantheon of dreams. The latest incarnation of Oedipus, the continued romance of Beauty and the Beast, stand this afternoon on the corner of Forty-second Street and Fifth Avenue, waiting for the traffic light to change.” So this myth at the core of Leap Year spoke to me. It resonated with the private, secret myths I clutch close to myself as I journey through life. I explore these same messages of transformational love and healing, and enjoy using archetypes like Beauty and the Beast, the tortured dangerous hero, the feisty empowered heroine in my own writing. No big surprise then that I’d discovered such an affinity for Leap Year.

Does everyone do this? Seek out stories that affirm their core beliefs? Or is it just me? I started to look around at the people who surround me. Yes, they did it, too. It’s why I write romance novels and why my best friend reads fantasy. It’s why my eleven-year-old is drawn to the lyrics of Owl City’s Fireflies and my scientist father-in-law loves Asimov and old science fiction movies. We’re drawn to these myths like magnets to an invisible electro-magnetic field. You don’t have to look far to see the evidence. It’s there in the books we read, the music we listen to, the DVDs we watch, the fairy tales we tell our children, and the stories that we as writers write. So why are these myths so important? And how did they get there?

Myths capture our imagination. And without even trying, we seek them out. Myths help us order our world, manage chaos, and draw meaning from what appears to be random occurrences. We find kernels of truth in the myths that populate our lives. But what’s their ultimate purpose? Joseph Campbell says these myths help us cross difficult thresholds, allowing us to transform the way we think, both consciously and subconsciously. They help us arc and overcome the barriers in our own lives that hold us back that keep us mired in the muck. They’re the stories that remind us of our past and inform our future. They keep us from remaining static. They spur change. “It has always been the prime function of mythology and rite to supply the symbols that carry the human spirit forward [to] counterac[t] those constant human fantasies that tend to tie it back,” he says.

So where does that leave writers? Do we try to shape the myths at the core of our stories to get across a particular message? I’m not sure we can because our privately held myths have shaped us. Our stories rise from this magical spring of myth, whether we like it or not. We can’t help it. The words that spill out of our mouths when we speak and from our fingertips when we craft our stories are already part of our personal mythology. It’s individual truth made universal in our characters and novel themes. Writers are what Campbell calls the “artist-scientist: that curiously disinterested almost diabolic human phenomenon, beyond the normal bounds of social judgment, dedicated to the morals not of this time but of his art. He is the hero of the way of thought--single hearted, courageous, and full of faith that the truth, as he finds it, shall make us free.”

As writers and scholars of humanity, we need to understand the role of myth. How our past has shaped us. How myth draws an audience to a certain underlying story within a specific genre. If we can identify the story behind the story in our own work, we will better understand what rings true for our characters and their struggles. We can even begin to help our agents and editors know how to market our books. We’ll begin to piece together why Jane Q. Public loves a Regency-set marriage of convenience story while she stays far away from the roller coaster ride of modern-day suspense. But more than that, as writer-readers, when we begin to analyze what our literature says about our generation, we can tune our ears to the heart cry to which we’ve grown deaf. By reading popular fiction (mystery, thriller, suspense, romance, YA, science fiction, fantasy, and horror novels) and the lyrics of our modern-day poets, singer/songwriters, we can become adept at translating life chaos into orderly, saleable fiction.

So how does this help me understand why I loved Leap Year while no one else liked it? I understand the myths that have shaped me and I’m able to track my own personal journey as a writer. I see my overriding Ur-Story. My characters always experience a life-transforming love that makes them want to risk it all. They choose to leave behind their controlled comfort zone in order to grow and change. And because they risk it all, they always find their happy ending.

Does knowing this make me a better writer? I think so. Not everyone cares to reflect on life, to grow, or change--in real life or fiction. Change is hard. But I choose to be one of the heroes Campbell mentioned who believes that knowing the truth will set others (and me) free. So I will listen. I will hear the mythos of our generation as it echoes through our popular fiction because I care to know where we’ve been and where we’re headed. And as Mary Chapin Carpenter’s lyrics say so well, yes, each of our hearts does know the way. “It’s worth it all learning at last . . . The future begins with the past . . . We’ve traveled so far to be here.” Will you open your ears? What does your Ur-Story say to you? I think it matters. How about you?

We’ve Traveled So Far (excerpted)
by Mary Chapin Carpenter, The Age of Miracles

I found myself wondering today
Why do some go and some stay
Do each of our hearts know their way
Through valleys of sorrow and tears
Across oceans of longing and years
And the sound of it all in my ears

I traveled
I traveled so far
I traveled so far to be here

It’s worth it all learning at last
The future begins with the past
Step out of the shadow it casts
And let the sun shine on your shoes
Kick ‘em off in the rain if you choose
There’s nothing like nothing to lose

We traveled
We traveled so far
We traveled
We traveled
We traveled so farWe traveled so far to be here