I don’t know what’s more amazing to think about; the idea that I fell in love with someone like you or the fact that after all this time and all that we’ve been through, I still do.
I built these walls around me to protect myself, but I didn’t ever think of the fact that no matter how many walls I build or how confined this space becomes, I won’t ever be able to build walls to protect me from my greatest obstacle… myself.
E.G. I am only limiting.. // I guess I continue building the walls anyway because I feel more at ease letting myself down than getting hurt by others I trusted.
Amateur writers might not know why something is wrong, but they can generally tell when.
It’s the same concept of a child learning to communicate. As skill increases, the better a writer can identify exactly what’s wrong and convey how to improve it.
For example, when I first started writing I gave feedback on another writer’s work. I knew there was something wrong with their description of fire, but instead of saying “you need a more vivid descriptor to place the reader in the scene,” I said something dumb like “Well…… flames…. can be blue… so say something about them being… red?”
So keep in mind when people critique your work, you might not agree with their changes. They might not have what’s wrong spot on, but they likely know when something is weird. Look at the section they’re pointing out and figure out what’s wrong.
Alternatively, if you’re not sure what’s wrong, but know something is wrong, point out that it reads off, and then maybe take a stab at it.
Reading like a reader: You’re letting the story take you a sweep you away without worrying much about anything. You might have opinions–likes and dislikes. But for the most part, you’re just seeing where the story takes you.
Reading like a writer: You’re gutting each sentence, picking it apart and studying it. You look at what the writer does wrong and what they’ve done right and use both to help you improve. You’re actively trying to find flaws and strengths to avoid or borrow in your own writing.
When to read like a reader:
When you want to relax and enjoy a story.
When you’re reading with intent to give feedback to other readers. This means reviews for sites like Goodreads or Amazon.
When to read like a writer:
When you’re looking to up your writing skills.
When you’re beta reading, critiquing, or giving feedback to the writer directly.
A lot of writers find it nearly impossible to read like a reader anymore, which isn’t a bad thing. You can still 100% relax into a story and enjoy it once you’ve built up that reading like a writer muscle. It does take more work than just reading, so if you’re just starting out you may find it hard at first.
If you do read like a writer, you can of course still review a novel. However, you can’t expect all your critiques to fit into a review. Reading like a writer is very tailored frame of opinion in most cases, as it partly relates to your own writing style. A review is not the place to compare your writings. It’s a place for other readers to find out if they should give this book a chance. Complimenting/complaining about sentence structure is nitpicky and going to go over most readers heads–just say it wasn’t/was well written.
Like most things, reading like a writer vs reader is a wide spectrum. Plenty of readers that are not in fact writers read like a writer–especially voracious readers because they have a whole career of reading behind them. They’ve learned how to weed out bad books.
Throughout the course of a book you can do both in varying degrees, but at times it can be good to consciously flex those muscles. Strain and relax them. Become a better writer without even writing ❤
1. Be concise. Ain’t nobody got time for frivolous and redundant description. The more simply put, the better. Find a single, strong way to state your points and then leave them be. Don’t be that crazy ex.
2. Descriptions are an extension of your narrator. If your character is a fighter, they’re going to notice people’s weaknesses, where the exits are, that sort of thing. What better way to deepen this character by showing these off in description? Two birds with one stone.
3. Don’t info dump. Your setting is probably badass, but is any setting bad ass enough to read four pages of it? Your reader will fill it in. Give it only what it needs at first and add in details as the story progresses. People get bored sitting in regular rooms for too long. Made up rooms are no different.
4. Show, don’t tell. (I know, I know. But it needs repeating.) Don’t have your narrator say “I saw blah blah,” just make them see it! Not everything is about them. God. Show what’s in front of them, don’t tell your reader. This distances them from the scene and that’s a no no.
5. Read. Find books with great descriptions, find books with bad descriptions. Either way, you’ll end up seeing what you like and don’t like in writing. And guess what? That will help your writing. Someone will always dislike your description style, (too much, too little) but if you’re happy with it, there’s bound to be others that agree.
Listening to writers read and discuss their work at Newtonville Books, the bookstore my wife and I own outside Boston, I began to wonder which living, contemporary writers held the most influence over their work. This survey is not meant to be comprehensive, but is the result of my posing the question to as many writers as I could ask.
ALICIA ERIAN: In college, my friend lent me her copy of Mary Gaitskill’s first book, a collection of stories entitled Bad Behavior, and said I should read it. What exactly that should meant wasn’t clear, but my friend was one of the best dressers I’d ever known, and this caused me to take her literary recommendations very seriously.
I connected with the disconnected misery of Gaitskill’s characters. They depressed the hell out of me, but they never bored me. I always needed to know what was going to happen to them. They mirrored my own emptiness, and from this I inferred that I had a shot at being interesting as a person, too.
Most especially, I connected with the story “Secretary.” It made me incredibly horny, and incredibly ashamed of being horny, since what was making me horny wasn’t something that was good for the main character, whose boss was sexually abusing her. At the same time, as a wannabe writer, I was aware that what Gaitskill had accomplished in terms of eliciting these conflicting responses from me was the apex of literary success. Gaitskill had revealed to me who I was—my basest instincts—before I’d even understood such things myself. I didn’t know her, but somehow, she really, really knew me. I hoped to offer the same experience to another reader one day.
