Learning From Reading: Change Up Your Patterns to Gain More
By Annie Neugebauer | March 15, 2017 |

“Reading” by Daniel Wehner
I think by now most writers have received the message: you should be reading. Stephen King puts it plainly: “If you don’t have the time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
Most writers come to the page because we’re already book lovers, so it’s hardly a burden to be told that doing more of what made us fall in love in the first place is part of our job. Sure, we get busy and impatient and caught up and occasionally have to remind ourselves to read, but by and large, any writer is thrilled to be reading. We know, intuitively, that reading gives us power. Creative inspiration, education, industry knowledge, and more. We learn from reading.
But when was the last time you thought about how, exactly, you’re learning from what you’re reading? When did you last chase inspiration with dedicated intent? When did you last study not just the books themselves, but why you’ve chosen the books you’ve chosen?
As with any endeavor, routine can build good habits, but it can also become mundane. It’s harder to find inspiration when you know exactly what to expect, and it’s harder to be surprised when you’re doing exactly what you always do. So my suggestion for writers today is this: change up your reading habits.
If you always read within your writing genre, bust out. If you stick to literary or commercial fiction, try swapping them. Try mixing them. Risk reading a few things you may hate, because that’s also how you find brand new things you love. (And even things we hate have things to teach us.)
Switch up not only the types of books you’re reading, but the format. Always read paperback? Get an e-reader. Always read digital? Try listening to an audiobook. Used to reading long novels? Try a serial novella in an online magazine. Always read short stories in literary journals? Pick up a pocket-sized poetry collection.
It might sound silly, but these things matter. They affect the reading experience, the way we process the information, the speed and manner in which we process the stories themselves. An audiobook, read well, can drastically change a book you didn’t care for in high school. An old favorite read by the author might make you see entirely new aspects of the story, or the prose. If you’ve been raised on screens, taking time to read silently on paper might reshape your experience.
Not only this, but the time we give to reading is malleable. I know people who claim they can’t read long stories because once they start, they have to finish. Guess what? That’s simply not true. Start one and intentionally put it down unfinished to prove to yourself that you can. (As a ‘must-finish’ stalwart, I can vouch for this as a painful but valuable lesson.) Other people claim they just don’t have the time to read. Also untrue. Ten minutes a night before sleep. Five minutes while you wait in the check-out line. An audiobook during lunch. A poem or two on the toilet. Seriously. What’s more, reading in short bursts or medium chunks or long marathons also affects the stories themselves. If you rarely sit down with a book for more than half an hour at a time, try scheduling a Saturday to do nothing but eat, sleep, and read.
Experiment with what you’re reading together, too. For years I was utterly convinced that I could only read one book at a time. I’d go cover to cover before even opening the next one. That turned out to be an entirely constructed limitation I was putting on myself. Nowadays I routinely have 3-4 books going at once: a paperback novel or collection of shorts, an audiobook, a book of poetry, and a nonfiction book (usually writing craft or research). This strange assortment has inspired some of my finest ideas. Studying the history of Halloween at the same time I was reading a novel about witches sparked ideas in my mind which led to my short story “The Devil Take the Hindmost,” a blending of horror and historical which appeared in Dark Hallows II last year. Other story ideas have come from even stranger amalgamations, a sentence here connecting to a fact there, and boom – story fodder.
Since I discovered this trick – that mixing genres, styles, mediums, and formats sparks some fabulous ideas – several years ago, I’ve been reading much the same way since. But as with any routine, even this loses its power eventually. An intentional juxtaposition becomes predictable in and of itself. So instead, I sometimes read two similar books at once to see what that does. Fantasy short stories and literary short stories, for example. Or a modern gothic and a classic gothic.
I’ve always been a person who wants to read widely and voraciously. I want to ‘get to know’ all of the authors I can, and to read as many books as I can, so the idea of limiting myself is frustrating. But recently I’ve succumbed to the desire to marathon through all the books of a single author (Sarah Waters), and it’s been fantastic – an entirely different type of learning experience. I’m five books in right now, but I hope to read all of hers by the end of the year.
In the same vein, the idea of taking valuable reading time to reread a book used to make me cringe. This despite so many writers I admire professing its virtues. I had a few exceptions – I’ve read Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake series more times than I can count, from beginning to ever-expanding end every couple of years for a while there – but by and large I decided I’d rather spend my time exposing myself to new material than rehashing the old. (I’ve never been big on rewatching movies, either. I don’t even buy them, because I know I may never see them again even if I loved them.) That was a mistake on my part. I finally sat down recently and reread two books I’d already loved: Wuthering Heights (to write this essay) and Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn. On the latter I took notes and analyzed it as I would’ve in college. I picked up so many things I could never have learned on a single read. Well, well worth my time.
I admit to my stubbornness and foibles here because each time I settled into a pattern, I was convinced I’d found the right one. I realize now, looking at it with a wider lens, that that’s because it was the act of switching up my pattern that sparked the good stuff. Every single reading method, practice, format, and habit is valid and valuable – but none so much as trying them all. Perhaps you can learn from my inflexibility and skip learning this one the hard way.
Writers, how do you feel you best learn from reading? Do you think you’re stuck in a pattern? What’s one way that you could shake things up now?
[coffee]
Annie Neugebauer:
I’m saving your contribution here to READ….. when I’ve more time. On the road tomorrow (weather permitting) with my guy to go from KCMO to Lexington, KY for an overnight, then on to Alexandria, VA where we live for the summer half of the year.
Best,
Barbara
@BarbaraMcDWhitt
Wow, sounds like fun! Have a great trip, Barbara!
Thank you for your post Annie.
I try to read everything: scifi (the genre I write in), mystery, romance (Yep, I’m a guy who reads romances), literary, fantasy, mainstream, horror (going to check out your work), historical fiction, and non-fiction.
I read on my phone, on paper, and audio.
My question for you is what non-fiction books have you used when doing research for your writing?
Hi James! I’ve used all kinds of nonfiction for research. I read writing books on craft and how-to and business, of course, like WU’s Author In Progress. I also read very topic-specific books for drafting research. So if I have a book set in a different century, country, etc., I’ll pick up whatever books I can find that help me better understand and capture the details of that setting. I’ve researched specific jobs, animals, places, hobbies, cultural phenomenons… you name it. The hardest part for me is not going *too* far down the rabbit hole and knowing when to stop researching and start writing! :)
Great suggestions, Annie. I read novels, nonfiction, listen to both on Audio, and occasionally use my e-reader. I cull sentences from reviews in the newspaper or commentary I read online. Often something clicks with my WIP and I keep a file of those ideas. I don’t believe anyone can write in a vacuum and reading breaks us out of a confined space and opens up the world and our ideas. I do need to reread some of my favorite books. I was just thinking about Marilynne Robinson’s HOME, this morning. That would be a first choice for rereading. THANKS.
Thanks, Beth! It sounds like you already have quite a wide array set up; that’s great. There really is something special about re-reading. When you take away a little of that “what’s next” breathlessness, it gives us a chance to slow down and appreciate all the other elements. I hope you find it as fun as I do!
Once I chose (or was herded toward) historical fiction, I was forced into reading more non-fiction. That’s when I discovered the historical-fiction writer’s secret weapon: there are a thousand story ideas in every non-fiction history book. I would even suggest that writers of any genre can pick up plenty of ideas from history books. And I don’t mean the black and white snapshots of history we were taught in high-school. I mean books like “Undefeated” and “Dead Wake.” These books took those snapshots and expanded them into a history lesson that feels as recent and memorable as 9-11. So, yes, I’ve become a huge fan of historical non-fiction lately.
My current bedtime read, by the way, is James Michener’s “Alaska,” a book I’ve always wanted to read but have finally gotten around to. While fictional, it’s one of those books that opens up a new world of ideas. And what a masterful writer!
Thanks for the post.
I love your enthusiasm! Historical nonfiction is one I’ve tried and used many times over the years, but haven’t been able to get into much, but your comment reminds me I definitely need to try again. I’m past due. I think I might even check out ALASKA. Thank you, Ronald!
Thanks for this post, Annie.
I’ve had this urge over the last few months to explore writing short stories in more depth. I recently read James Scott Bell’s craft book on writing short stories.
I borrowed Kurt Vonnegut’s Welcome to the Monkey House from the library and it added fuel to the fire. It is so good, like a workshop.
I purchased the book and now I’m going through it story by story like it was a craft book. Highlighting and making notes on how Vonnegut constructed his stories and seeking what Bell calls the shatter moment when the story turns on its head.
Very interesting and looking forward to applying what I’m learning on my own stories.
I absolutely *love* that, Henry. You’re giving yourself a master class! Kudos to you. Good luck, and have fun!!
Reading short stories is a great way to experience a range of authors and genres. I began reading one short every week and it turned into a blog for me. But the real value is the experience of reading 52 different authors in a year’s time. It’s fascinating to compare Fitzgerald to Hemingway or Kelly Link to Mary Shelley.
Agreed, Paula! Short stories are such a great option for reading more widely but faster. Less commitment, too, to a single author if they turn out to not be your favorite. I like that you do one a week; it reminds me of Ray Bradbury’s suggestion to write one a week. Combining those two challenges could be a really cool experiment, in fact. :)
I cover the gamut in reading: literary, young adult, mysteries, thrillers, romance, short stories, poetry, westerns, bestsellers, and tons of nonfiction, from self-help to religions of the world, metaphysics, neuroscience, creativity, writing, and so on. I’m a book buyer, and I receive ARCs, and I gobble them all up. I have a storage shed for books because my shelves won’t hold them all. I carry a book (or three) in the car for stoplights, one to read when waiting in line, a stack on my bureau at home, and one to read while eating breakfast.
The one thing I don’t do is read books on a screen. I don’t have a portable screen, so it would mean reading on my laptop, which is not at all appealing. But audio, that’s a thought! Other than self-help titles, I haven’t listened to audio books.
I also keep a notebook to jot down titles of books I want to read. Each page has a title: new author, author I’ve read, young adult, fantasy, poetry, self-help, bestseller, (and so on). As I see a book I’d like to read, I enter it under the appropriate category. I start with page one, read the first book, then flip to page two for the next book. If there’s nothing listed, I go to the library or bookstore to hunt for one in that category. Keeps things interesting!
If I don’t have time to read, I get crabby.
This comment is like a love note to reading! Love it! I would trade a lot of things for a whole storage building full of books. :) I do hope you give audiobooks a try. I’ve really fallen in love with them, and can’t make myself do without now.
It’s not just what you feed your brain but also how.
Thank you for this food for thought, Annie.
<3
Great post, Annie! I’ve learned to look at books as teaching tools for writing as well as sources of escape or enjoyment. Some have shown me techniques and tricks that I admire and might want to use in my own work; others have shown me what I don’t want to do in my writing. Even with books we don’t like so much, we can still take away something important from our experience with them.
The one pattern I’ve noticed recently that I’ve been reading almost exclusively fantasy. All various genres, so it’s not any one branch of fantasy – and it doesn’t surprise me, since it’s a) my favorite genre to read, and b) the genre I’m writing in. But I enjoy literary fiction, science fiction, and historical fiction as well. So your post is a reminder that I should start incorporating more of those genres into my reading soon.
Thank you, Sara! I agree; some of my best writing lessons have come from reading books that didn’t work for me. Why not? How can I avoid that? It really does help put my own writing into perspective.
It might be a sign that I’m getting older, or it might be that I’m a much more critical reader than I used to be, but I have abandoned the idea that you must finish any book you start. I give ’em about twenty pages, and if I’m still bitching and moaning to myself about the quality of the writing, I close it. So many books. So little time.
Me too. That’s why I rarely continue with books I’m not liking. The reading pile is always screaming at me, “Come here, we’ve lots of books you WILL like.”
I do make myself read as widely among bestsellers in my genre (thrillers) as I can. I aim at reading at least one novel by all the top ten or twenty authors. So I’ve even managed to finish a Clive Cussler (never again) and not one but three by Lee Childs (like reading blocks of wood). Jeffrey Deaver is the only ‘bridge too far’ so far (I’ve attempted it at least twice and had to give up).
I’m jealous! Allowing myself to put down a book I’m not liking is still SO hard for me to do. I know, logically, that I should, but I have to talk myself into it every time. And I still don’t do it as often or as early as I probably should. I’m working on that.
I primarily read the authors I am inspired by. Those brilliant stylists whose words — and sentences — I re-read over and over again. Rather than being intimidated by them I try to inhabit them. My stories are nothing like theirs “Old Man and the Sea” and “Legends of the Fall” and “Chesil Beach” and “Cold Mountain” and “The Namesake” I haven’t those stories to tell. But, those authors blow me away with their magic!
Lovely, Luna. “Inhabit them.” Really lovely. (And I agree.)
Writers, if anything, are creatures of habit. It makes sense that when we think something “works” for us, we keep at it. But you’re right; sometimes, we need to return back to our younger, more free reader selves. No patterns. No to-read lists. Just floating with our fancy, but more importantly, against it too.
I recently allowed myself to reread a few books (an entire series and a 500+ page Brontë novel) and now, I’m in the rereading zone. It’s a good place for me right now. I already know I love all this, and now I get to explore why and how I love it. But it’s a safe place.
I’m about to delve into a biography–NEVER read those–and a historical, which I read sparingly because they take so much out of me. I will eagerly anticipate my profound moments of inspiration from the challenge. I will blame you if they don’t come, Annie. ;)
Oh boy. Haha! I can’t promise profound moments… but I feel pretty safe betting on at least some good stuff here or there. :) And hey, we have to try, right? Who knows which book will be a useless dud, which will teach us what not to do, which will give us a single tidbit to work into a story or post, and which will spark an entire novel idea? Gotta read them to find out! I hope you have fun switching it up!