Being a Defiant Reader
As a kid, I got lost in books. My mom used to joke that I’d miss my train if I was reading. Once it almost happened: on the hard bench of Grand Central Station’s waiting room, I remained oblivious to both crowds and and the underground rumble until the very last minute, in another world.
In my youth, my requirements for a story to get lost in were simple: characters that transported me. I wanted to be them.
Reading was my primary escape. As a very near-sighted introvert, what would later be called a nerd but without the cachet of brilliant tech or science, I felt like an outcast because I’d much rather lean into a page. I finally got glasses in sixth grade and although I could see the classroom blackboard, I now lived behind thick glass. So I became someone else by reading stories—the hero I wanted to be.
I lived for our Saturday library trip. Lined up on my dresser, my stack of library books lent hope and enchantment. As I grew older, reading also became an outlet for teenage rebellion—what I read defied the rules I lived by.
Find a reading friend
Five years before my spouse and I married, we became reading friends. This friend was unique: each birthday, I sent a box full of my favorite titles from our local used bookstore. I’d kept copies of my best-loved books from kid and young adult days. I visited the cavernous store, dusty and musty smelling, where books were grouped by the owner’s categories, not by publisher’s. I spent glorious hours traveling each aisle, remembering all the friends that had kept me alive as a kid.
All year, when we had our weekly phone calls, we discussed a book. The next birthday, I sent twenty more. This tradition carried on for five years, until we merged our shelves.
Use reading to travel
This winter, we took a two month break from regular life, as a recovery for my exhaustion over launching two new novels. We packed ourselves and two dogs into our small camper van and headed south in February. One of the biggest packing decisions was the selection of books. I read on Kindle but I love most to read before sleep, and that requires print. Our camper is well designed but storage is minimal. We relegated ourselves to one collapsible bin each for books. Plus an extra soft-sided zip bag.
When traveling, I read at minimum one book a week. Reading before sleep became my favorite time of day. Road weary, full of images of all the unknown places we passed, we settled into bed with dogs and dinner and books.
Some books were not a pleasure ride. We discussed this as we drove.
George Saunders, in his excellent Story Club Substack, talks often about reader engagement. When a reader stays with a story, when they can’t let go of it, the story is successful. When a reader drops out, steps away, that becomes the moment in the narrative to examine.
Why did the reader stop? Was it slow pace, the repetitive prose, milky characters?
On the trip, because our stash of books was few, I felt dogged about finishing everything I started. I always hope a story will get better—and some did. I find literary fiction often slow to start and often sparkling by the end, becoming breathtaking. Others were a plod. Even if a book got stellar reviews, it guaranteed nothing. A few campgrounds had giveaway libraries. We exchanged when we could.
Use reading as a prompt
All the while, I wrote. I don’t stop writing, ever. Even when I’m launching another book, I am working on a story or the next book.
Some say a writer should “stay pure” from the influence of other authors while writing—to avoid inadvertently borrowing phrases or tone. This holds no weight for me. We must read to write well. Reading informs us on every level. It’s as if we tap into a universe of words and images with every book, and the energy of that feeds us creatively.
Some say no new stories exist in the world; everything repeats a classic tale. Again, not true for me. Each book I read is more than a retelling. It comes through a unique creative self to show an individual view of the world.
Three of our books were poetry. I read poems before I write. Especially if I feel low about my own creativity. Poets condense beauty and emotion into small space. Like a compressed flower we put in water as kids to watch it expand. I am changed by every poem. I get re-inspired.
This is how to use reading as a prompt. Start your writing session with a page or two, a poem or two. It seriously refreshes the creative self.
Use reading to learn specific skills
Sometimes the way an author will present a scene or a poet translate an emotion into image gives me just the kickstart I need to craft my own scene. Or I’ll study something specific, to help a stuck place.
I remember when I was finishing the revision of Last Bets, published in April. I was down to final details: how vary the ending of my chapters. I spent fifteen minutes before each writing session skimming the ending paragraphs of novels I loved. I wanted to study how those authors used transitions.
Earlier in my revision of Last Bets,, I needed a quick refresher on pace. I chose three thrillers that placed dialogue and action expertly. I opened a page spread, squinted at the text versus white space, and then at my own draft. I modified to allow more white space (faster pace) at times where the writing slumped (this technique was learned from writer Alexander Chee).
A third study assignment: Looking at where a story starts, whether it’s in the middle of action, setting, or a scene of dialogue. Again, I chose favorite books and read just the first pages. Then examined my own. A simple technique that greatly helped me assess the strength of my novel’s opening.
Each book I studied, for specific first aid, upgraded my own writing.
Eventually, though, I had to read for pleasure, not work.
Read for pleasure versus “work”
For over two decades, my work has been about writing.
I made money from publishing, thankfully. My books all earned out. But it’s not a living, so I supplemented with teaching and coaching. Much of what I read became ways to educate myself for my job.
Far in the past, as a kid or young adult, I read solely for pleasure. I touched in with this on our camper trip again. To be able to “waste” time on a less-than-promising book, finishing it no matter what, was not possible when I was teaching. I cut bait fast, set aside a new book by its third chapter if I found no engagement or usefulness to pass to my students.
I chose my reading by what was acclaimed or recommended by a reader I respected, just to keep up with student questions. No complaints—many books I read for classes were extraordinary. But it was always work, not always pleasure.
Now I am retired from teaching, except what I can share of my experience via these conversations with you each Friday. I’m rediscovering my good book requirements—what sparks me, personally, as a reader. I’m reading across genres. I am not reading for work anymore.
Being a defiant reader
A friend loves her book club. But she’s never reading for pleasure, she says. She’s always behind on the choice of the month. She appreciates the exposure to good books—a reason many join book clubs. But she’s promised herself to take off for the summer, become a defiant reader again.
I love that. I feel more of us should become defiant in our choice of literature. It’s not always the classics that give us creative juice.
I read classics in school, and they developed my appreciation of great writers. I became a student of languages, and I read many books in the original. But they came with an intent to learn, to study, to increase my knowledge. I rarely choose them now.
Good books in my life, these days, don’t work me that hard.
James Joyce is brilliant. I’d never choose him to curl up with during a summer evening or dinner on a camper trip. I might choose a young adult or children’s story. I have less tolerance for hard work.
I have settled into being a defiant reader.
Your Weekly Writing Exercise
As a writer, you can divide your reading between study and defiance, if you want. For those who want to read to learn, this week choose a book and use one of these techniques to improve your writing.
Study how an author ends each chapter to improve your transitions.
Use Alex Chee’s squint test (text versus white space) to improve your pacing.
Examine how the book starts—what the author chooses to launch chapter 1—and compare the intensity with yours.
Share your defiance as a reader. What are you reading now?