Reading to Improve Your Writing
By Kathleen McCleary | February 17, 2016 |
Flickr Creative Commons: Honghu W
Usually I don’t read fiction when I’m in the middle of writing fiction. Like many writers, I don’t want to get distracted from my story by another story, or get swept up into a different world when I’m struggling to create a world of my own. I also don’t want another writer’s style or rhythm to creep inadvertently into my own writing. But this time around, as I’ve been working on my fourth novel, I’ve been reading like crazy, eight books in the last six weeks. And it has helped me more than I can say with my novel-in-progress. As the author Jennifer Egan says, “Reading is the nourishment that lets you do interesting work.” Here’s what I’ve learned:
Simplify. I’ve been struggling with the plot of my current novel. When I recently wrote a summary/outline, I was overwhelmed. It felt like a lot of people doing a lot of different things, but I wasn’t quite sure how to fix it. Then I read Elizabeth Strout’s My Name is Lucy Barton. It’s a story about a woman recovering from surgery whose estranged mother comes to stay with her. As they talk over the course of several days in Lucy’s hospital room, all the stories that have shaped Lucy’s life bubble to the surface.
It’s a deceptively simple book, a book in which things said and unsaid between a mother and daughter come to reveal everything about who Lucy is, the longings and struggles that have defined her, and her yearnings about who she still wants to be. After reading the book, I saw that I needed to whittle my own story down to its most essential elements, cutting out certain characters and extraneous plot lines. It allowed me to see the story at the heart of my story, which had been there all along but hidden underneath layers of too much stuff.
Change it up. I write character-driven fiction, and I tend to read books like that, too (witness Lucy Barton, above). But the 8 books I’ve read so far this year include two memoirs, two works of non-fiction, one crime thriller, one work of historical fiction, and one futuristic/dystopian novel. Non-fiction and crime thrillers aren’t found often in my TBR pile, and dystopian fiction is waaaay outside my comfort zone. But reading outside my usual genre gave me a considerable jumpstart in my own writing. I stayed up late to finish Allison Leotta’s The Last Good Girl and was reminded how important it is to construct a smart plot that moves along at a steady—or fast!—pace and that can still surprise readers at the end [full disclosure: Allison is a member of my critique group].
Two other books—Winston Graham’s Poldark and Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven— showed me how to create rich, believable fictional worlds, made even more real by small details that make them sing. In Poldark, Demelza, a country girl staying in a fine house for the first time, can’t get over the birds on the patterned curtains, “like mistle thrushes, only the specks are the wrong color…If they wish to paint spots on birds on curtains, why don’t they paint the spots the right color? No bird ever had pink spots.” The birds on the curtains detail brings us immediately and visually into the fine house in 1780’s Cornwall, into the heart and soul of the character, who has spent her life roaming the woods and meadows and has a vivid curiosity.
And in Station Eleven, where a flu pandemic has wiped out 99.9% of the world’s population, those left behind don’t only struggle to survive, they also marvel at the world now lost to them: “Clark had always been fond of beautiful objects, and in his present state of mind, all objects were beautiful…Consider the snow globe. Consider the mind that invented those miniature storms, the factory worker who turned sheets of plastic into white flakes of snow, the hand that drew the plan for the miniature Severn City with its church steeple and city hall, the assembly-line worker who watched the globe glide past on a conveyer belt somewhere in China. Consider the white gloves on the hands of the woman who inserted the snow globes into boxes, to be packed into larger boxes, crates, shipping containers. Consider the card games played below decks in the evenings on the ship carrying the containers across the ocean, a hand stubbing out a cigarette in an overflowing ashtray, a haze of blue smoke in dim light, the cadences of a half dozen languages united by common profanities, the sailors’ dreams of land and women, these men for whom the ocean was a gray-line horizon to be traversed in ships the size of overturned skyscrapers….” The details put the reader directly into a world so transformed that every ordinary occurrence has become a thing of wonder, a miracle. The sense of loss in this new world is palpable.
Nourish your non-writing life. In Painting as a Pastime, Winston Churchill writes, “But reading and book-love in all their forms suffer from one serious defect: they are too nearly akin to the ordinary daily round of the brain-worker to give that element of change and contrast essential to real relief.” Churchill took up painting at age 40, and painted more than 500 works over the next 48 years. Reading his little book encouraged me to take up painting with pastels, and it’s provided me with a creative outlet I can turn to when I’m stuck or need a break from writing fiction. Whatever your pleasure—music, carpentry, tennis, cooking—don’t neglect it. Your writing will be the better for your indulgence.
Science fiction author H.P. Lovecraft wrote: “All attempts at gaining literary polish must begin with judicious reading, and the learner must never cease to hold this phase uppermost. In many cases, the usage of good authors will be found a more effective guide than any amount of precept. A page of Addison or of Irving will teach more of style than a whole manual of rules, whilst a story of Poe’s will impress upon the mind a more vivid notion of powerful and correct description and narration than will ten dry chapters of a bulky textbook.” https://www.brainpickings.org/2013/01/11/h-p-lovecraft-advice-on-writing/
So, writers, go forth and read. It may be the nourishment you need.
When has reading helped your writing? How?
[coffee]
Kathleen McCleary is the author of three novels—House and Home, A Simple Thing, and Leaving Haven—and has worked as a bookseller, bartender, and barista (all great jobs for gathering material for fiction). A Simple Thing (HarperCollins 2012) was nominated for the Library of Virginia Literary Awards. She was a journalist for many years before turning to fiction, and her work has appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, Good Housekeeping, Ladies Home Journal, and USA Weekend, as well as HGTV.com, where she was a regular columnist. She taught writing as an adjunct professor at American University in Washington, D.C., and teaches creative writing to kids ages 8-18 as an instructor with Writopia Labs, a non-profit. She also offers college essay coaching (https://thenobleapp.com), because she believes that life is stressful enough and telling stories of any kind should be exciting and fun. When she’s not writing or coaching writing, she looks for any excuse to get out into the woods or mountains or onto a lake. She lives in northern Virginia with her husband and two daughters and Jinx the cat.
Brilliant and true, Kathleen. A bit like you, I put on airs that my writing has to come first (after work, after family, after cat-feeding, hey crowded in here). But whenever I read, I see it, the kind of value you’re pointing to. Most of my “writing” is just ideas gestating in my head anyway, the actual writing time is one slice of a pretty large pie.
Whenever I interview an author for my blog I commit to reading at least one recent book of theirs. If I get more than that, I feel lucky. But yes, all this in spades.
I have no chance of understanding any of your books I bet, but I’ll read one this year, promise. Try one of mine that’s short! You might get a chuckle.
Thanks, Will. I will definitely read one of your books this year, and I’m looking forward to it. And yes, reading does tend to get shunted aside after work, family, cat-feeding, etc. But, as I’ve discovered on my reading tear of late, it makes such a difference. (If you read one of mine, read my 2nd. It’s got a great love story.)
I’ve heard other writers say they don’t read fiction while they’re writing fiction, and I can’t imagine it. For me, that’d be a lot of days not reading, since I’m pretty much always working on something. And just about every book offers some sort of insight, even if it’s in the form of an outcome or effect I want to avoid. I can’t tell you how often I set a book aside to run and write a note about my own work. It’s rarely a direct corollary, but sometimes it’s pretty close (I only steal from the best ;-).
These are good examples of the kind of inspiration and motivation that flow from reading while writing, Kathleen. Thanks for sharing them.
Thanks, Vaughan. I couldn’t agree more that “just about every book offers some sort of insight,” even if it’s to remind us of what NOT to do. Excellent point.
Kathleen–
What a fine post. Your quote from Lovecraft–“A page of Addison or of Irving will teach more of style than a whole manual of rules” etcetera–seems the perfect way to underscore your thesis. What we used to call in academia “primary texts”–actual works of literature rather than criticism about literature–are the ultimate “how-to” manuals for writers.
And what you say about “nourishing the non-writing life” strikes me as equally important. The lesson you learned from Churchill’s book led you to take up painting. For me, walking with a dog (sans phone, headset, etc) is my way of accessing the primary texts of life.
Thanks. What you say in your post rings true.
I appreciate the feedback, Barry. Yes, actual works of literature are the best “how-to” manuals. Great way to think about it. And I’m a walking fan, too.
I’ve learned so much from reading Elizabeth Strout, too, Kathleen, as well as countless others. Sometimes reading can spark something you’ve been wrestling with for days, months even. Why not learn from masters of their craft? Great reminder.
Thanks, Karen. Elizabeth Strout is a master of showing, not telling, and of crafting simple stories that carry a huge emotional punch. Abide With Me is my favorite of her books.
What must you give up to write?
That will tell you how valuable your writing is to you.
I love reading.
But energy for that comes from the tiny pool of ‘good time’ I get daily, and, as you’ve noted, can take over your brain and keep you up late, recovering from which comes out of the scarce allotment of future days.
I can’t not write; the reading will have to wait.
Learning how and where to allocate our time and best energy is one of the most critical parts of the writing process, Alicia. Thanks for making such an excellent point!
Thanks for the great post, Kathleen. I totally agree . . . reading while writing only improves whatever I’m working on. I also love reading poetry when I am feeling especially swampy and quicksanded. Pablo Neruda’s The Book of Questions always manages to unstick me.
Because I have a puppy (and hardly any time to read actual books) I have subscribed to Audible and listen to books on dog walks, during soccer carpools, etc. I accidentally purchased The Girl with All the Gifts, and once I realized it was a genre I hardly ever read, I decided to return it. Then I decided it was just what I needed: to read something I never read. And man, am I glad I did. It was such a good study in plot-building, tension and what keeps a reader reading (or listening). Plus it was riveting and creepy and heartbreaking. I loved it.
Thank you for confirming that this is a helpful strategy!
It’s fascinating to hear how reading outside your genre jump-started you, Sarah. And I love books on Audible. Like you, I listen to on long car trips, when walking, etc. Great idea for the time-crunched.
I’ve learned a lot from craft books and workshops, and here at WU, but the most valuable of all has been reading.
One difference, though: Sometimes what I learn is how *not* to write. What I dislike and wish to do better can be as instructive as what I wish to emulate.
One must also, I think, learn to read objectively rather than for enjoyment, which does take some of the enjoyment out of it.
But I’m sure that’s true of aircraft design, as well. If that’s the cost of being a pro, so be it. Nice post, Kathleen. To my shame, I’ve never read Poldark. I’ll now add it to my list. Thanks.
Hope you enjoy Poldark as much as I do, Benjamin. I agree that there’s nothing like reading to teach you how to write (or how NOT to write). Great comments, thanks.
Like Vaughn, I’m almost always writing, so there’s no way I could give up reading fiction. Sometimes I’ll stick with nonfiction for a spell when I’m having trouble concentrating, but that doesn’t last long. ;-)
But as you suggest, Kathleen, I learn something from every short story and novel I read, a technique I picked up from Jewell Parker Rhodes’s Free Within Ourselves: Fiction Lessons for Black Authors (Lots of good lessons for non-black authors as well). She suggests keeping a reading journal listing what you’ve learned, both good and bad, from the novels you read, with exercises to get you started.
That journal eventually morphed into my Monday Morning Books blog, which is less about reviewing a book and more about what I as a writer learned from it. (Clicking on my name above will take you to my website if you’re interested in checking it out.)
And I agree with you, Kathleen, about the value of reading outside your genre.
I love the idea of keeping a reading journal not just of what you’ve read but also of what it has taught you about writing. I’m going to look for Jewell Parker Rhodes’s book—thanks for the tip! And I did take a look at your blog and really enjoyed it, Barbara. Keep up the good work.
I’ve always tried not to read the same genre I’m writing, or read any book which has the least resemblance to my story, but otherwise, I read as usual. Apart from the truly helpful ideas you mention in this post, there are a few others I always take away from my reading: vocabulary (I’m continually wondering why I haven’t used certain, somewhat unusual, words before, like “febrile”); stylistic points (always looking for new ways to avoid telling rather than showing); character (finding the exact point at which a relationship between two characters changes); beautiful descriptions (analyzing how the author pulled it off). And speaking of the latter, I’m so glad you mentioned Winston Graham’s POLDARK novels. His stunning descriptions of Cornwall’s coast are so visual, I feel as if I’m there. And those little details he mentions, like the one you pointed out–reading his books made me vow to take more care with description in my current WIP.
Thank you for contributing new ideas for what to watch for as we read.
Vocabulary—such a great point, Pam. I’m one of those people who grabs a dictionary every time I encounter a word I don’t know (I remember being delighted by “susurration” when I ran across it in a book and immediately incorporating it into the novel I was writing), and learning new words is yet another great reason to keep reading. I like the points you make, too, about style, character, and description. Thank you>
I try to read as much as a can while I write. I don’t worry about other writers influencing me because, even if I’m briefly swayed by the style of Elizabeth George or Paula Hawkins, I know I’ll settle into my own voice with revisions.
Reading does two things for me: it feeds me ideas to improve my stories, and it makes me excited to write. If I find a great book, I can’t read it for more than a chapter or two before I’m rushing off to work on my own manuscript. It’s like when I was a kid and I heard beautiful music, I’d clamor, “Me too! I want to play that instrument too!”
For those of us who aren’t yet published, there’s a bonus benefit to reading widely: finding comps! Agents always say they want writers to demonstrate that they know the market by giving good comparison titles in queries.
Yes, “reading makes me excited to write.” That’s it exactly! Thanks for your comments, T.K.
I am an old man. My Dad was a librarian. I grew up among the bookshelves, stacks, stereopticon viewers and slides, really old-fashioned glass plate slides and projectors, and movie projectors.
The treasure of all of it was the books. I cannot imagine not reading.
I write thrillers. I run two online businesses so I can afford to write.
At the end of my sometimes-very hectic days, I am too tired to read. But I read. It’s that simple for me.
I love the image of your childhood amongst all the richness of information and fantasy that can be found in a library, Jim. I find reading to be the ultimate relaxation for me, because a really good book does exactly what the cliches say it’s supposed to: Transport you to another world. Thanks.
Hi Kathleen,
Station Eleven was eye-opening to me too and I am eager to read Strout’s latest work. Abide With Me is a gem. Reading for me stimulates even more my need to write, to create. Yet I also find gardening and decorating provide me with that brain relief that Churchill writes about. Maybe that’s why he also so enjoyed building a wall at Chartwell.
You wrote of stripping your writing down so that the story could be unearthed and that’s exactly the activity I’m currently engaged in.
Reading the work of others has inspired my writing countless of times. Sometimes reading allows my muse to play and a plot is generated; other times the book works as a tutorial.
Reading and writing are daily activities, for me. I can’t imagine living my life without them.
Yes, reading is writers’ most powerful tool! Read much, read wide, read often, and maybe most important: read thoughtfully. There’s a wonderful nonfiction book by Francine Prose called READING LIKE A WRITER that goes into great depth about how to best utilize your reading to improve your writing.
I was always the kid in math class who didn’t want to listen to the boring lesson with the teacher droning on. While she talked I just looked at the example problems and figured out how to do it. To me that’s what reading a book is– looking at the example problems. Here’s how someone else put the theroems to use.
I have also recently started painting with a group of women in my neighborhood (there’s lots of wine, laughter and mistakes involved!) and find that doing something differently creative is freeing and feeds into my interior life, even if it doesn’t show up necessarily on the page.
Thanks for sharing Kathleen– I anxiously await your next novel and hope our paths cross again!
Lovely post. At a writing conference I attended last week, one of the speakers advised that we can learn a lot about writing from books that are nothing like the genres we right (perhaps because they shake us out of our comfort zone a little more, and we have to pay attention to how the story is put together and all the ways it is different from what we know and how it surprises us).
–Sam Taylor, AYAP Team
I did not know that Churchill painted, and just ordered his book of essays, so thanks for that. I took up painting last year and now paint every day–finally had to move all the paint, paper, etc out of my writing room into another space because it was both distracting and tempting. (I’m sure you know what I mean!)
And I have to admit that I’m with Vaughn on reading–I am never not reading a novel. I might also read non-fiction, but there are always books being read. Many different kinds of books (and wasn’t Station Eleven amazing?).
Excellent post.
Reading has helped my writing in so many immeasurable ways. I’m reading Geraldine Brooks right now–March and Year of Wonders–and I wrote in my journal that she’s a master at detail-in-action. For me this means that instead of giving the reader quick sentence snippets of action, or large blocks of description, she shows her character in action and then shows relevant things while that character is in action. This struck me as a breakthrough for some reason, and I’m stealing–I mean, emulating–it.