Over the years, what started in college as a head-over-heels love affair with reading every book on the syllabus turned into a truly integrated fiction and non-fiction exploration of any given subject.
What’s even worse (yes, worse), is that I love, love, love talking about these lists. I love talking about books and writing in general, but more than that, I love pointing out the connections between books, their approaches, and their conclusions.
This makes small talk extremely difficult for me. Someone asks me about the weather, and I end up telling them about the evolution of the differentiation between astrology and astronomy in the 16th century German university scene.
I can’t help it. It just spews out of my mouth. Ask Kristen Lamb. She once asked me an innocent question about the equivalent of a 19th century bra, and I gave her the entire history of bustle era underpinnings, from the truth about corsets, to the fact that underpants and pantaloons hadn’t become commonplace until the Regency era.
So, what has all this led to?
incurable and incorrigible
This leads to me having to buy more bookshelves. But, aside from that, it also means I arrange my bookshelves. By time period and topic.
Quite properly, fiction is on its own shelf, arranged by time period and genre. *shifty eyes*
It also means that my Amazon wishlist is obscenely long. (My goodness, how did I get to 35 pages of books?)
It ALSO means that YOU get to enjoy the fruits of my labor.
THE CAIT REYNOLDS CATALOGUE RAISONNÉ
You won’t have to go digging through my posts to find a catalogue raisonné. I’ve collected the all here on one page for your easy access. I even put a little link in the site menu.
Yes, it’s awesome. I’m awesome. I look forward to bringing you even MORE of obsessive reading! (Because that’s how I’m justifying all the books. Really, that’s basically it.)
Do you want to see a catalogue raisonné from me on a particular topic? Leave me a comment and let me know!
Writers get advice all the time not to listen to their Inner Editor–that snarky, perfectly manicured voice that has always has good hair and has probably never done a sniff test on a t-shirt in her life. But, there’s another voice we need to worry about: the Inner Pushy Stage Director.
Who or what is the Inner Pushy Stage Director?
It’s the fussy, sententious voice that carries a clipboard, wants you to emote more, and believes blocking is the only thing that can save the show (because God knows it won’t be the talent).
When it comes to writing, the Inner Pushy Stage Director has something to say about where every single character is, where they are going, and what they are doing (and exactly how they are doing it).
It’s not that it’s not good to know all of this. We should know where are characters are and what they are doing. The trouble comes when we decide to share all of that with the reader. The result of listening to our Inner Pushy Stage Director is writing that is clunky, over-crowded, and possibly the worst sin of all: BORING.
HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU HAVE AN INNER PUSHY STAGE DIRECTOR?
We’re writing. It’s not a complex scene. Our Hero Taylor is waiting for Sweet Seraphina to show up so he can debrief her on the morning’s miraculous escape from the Evil Band of Drug Lords/Mobsters/Human Traffickers.
There’s a knock at the door.
The way the Inner Pushy Stage Director wants to write this:
Taylor raised his head from his hands and looked up. He was too tired to startle physically from the sound. Wearily, he put his palms on his thighs and pushed up to standing, taking measured steps across the living room to the small foyer. He walked up to the door and came to a stop, squaring his shoulders against the ache in his ribs, and reaching for the doorknob. He grasped it with his hand and turned, slowly pulling the door open, watching as it revealed Seraphina standing on his threshold.
At this point, I can’t even write any more, I’m so bored. It’s all blah, blah, blah, and I’m starting to wonder when I’m going to get to the point,
If there isn’t a bit of dialogue or something interesting soon, I’m going to start picking at my nail polish…and that’s how we end up losing readers to “bookmark moments.”
If this had been written by the Steven Spielberg of Inner Stage Directors
Taylor heard the knock at the door but was too tired to startle at the sound. He went to the door, squaring his shoulders against the ache in his ribs and the exhaustion that dogged his steps. Seraphina stood on the threshold, looking completely unconvinced by his show of nonchalance.
Okay, now, we’re getting somewhere. It’s clear that this passage is tighter because it lacks the painful–and literal–step-by-step description of every action. But as a writer, how do we learn which actions need description and what is better left unsaid?
Fortunately, there are some simple tricks to keeping your Inner Pushy Stage Director in the wings where he belongs.
THE END POINT OF ACTIONS
Every action is made up of a series of movements. For example, to pick something up off the ground involves bending (or stooping) over, reaching out, grasping the object, and straightening up.
However, if Our Hero Taylor had dropped his phone on the ground, all I have to tell you is that, “Taylor picked up the phone.” In your mind, you have instantly pictured the entire series of physical movements that comprise the act of picking something up.
The end point of an action is the last movement (or two) that instinctively invoke an understanding of what the character has just done. We have all picked something up before. The movements are part of a common physical vocabulary we share as human beings. We just know what it means.
Therefore, we need to do is get in the habit of describing only the “end point” of an action.
In other words, we don’t need more verbs to describe a verb that already implies those verbs. Redundancy is redundant. (Sorry, couldn’t help myself).
THE MEANING OF ACTION
The Inner Pushy Stage Director is all about choreography. Everybody is moving around, doing things, providing a visual feast for the reader because ART. He’s the kind of inner editor that believes that interpretive dance makes everything better.
In reality, there are two reasons why we describe any given action for any given character in any given scene.
Rule One: Action puts characters into situations where interactions, decisions, and reactions to events move the plot forward.
Rule Two: Action puts characters into situations where movement can either reveal or conceal something about a character’s personality, motives, emotions, and inclinations.
Rule One is pretty self-explanatory. Every time our characters decide to pick up the phone, answer the door, drive (or ride a unicorn/hover craft) over to their friend’s house, shoot/not shoot the Very Obvious Antagonist, they are taking an action that leads to more choices and chances for Very Bad Decisions.
Rule Two is a bit more subtle, but just as powerful. For example:
Taylor heard the knock at the door but was too tired to startle at the sound. He went to the door, squaring his shoulders against the ache in his ribs and the exhaustion that dogged his steps. Seraphina stood on the threshold, looking completely unconvinced by his show of nonchalance.
Our Hero Taylor’s actions “show” the reader something about his character (pig-headed stubbornness in refusing to admit he has mere human physical limitations) without having to “tell” them…which would have looked something clunky like this:
Taylor heard the knock at the door but was too tired to startle at the sound. He went to the door, determined not to let Seraphina know how tired he was. If there was anything he hated, it was showing weakness of any kind.Seraphina stood on the threshold, looking completely unconvinced by his show of nonchalance.
I have basically beat the reader over the head with “The 2×4 of Useful Information” (another blog post coming soon). As readers, we instinctively get from the first example that Our Hero Taylor is one of those guys who likes to push through utter exhaustion, doesn’t like showing weakness, is pig-headed stubborn, and is–frankly–a crap actor.
In the first example, the action is both revealing to the reader and concealing (or would be to a being of lesser perception than Sweet Seraphina) to the other character.
Whether a character is running, sleeping, standing still, or trying for the love of God to find a comfortable way to do Downward Facing Dog, movement and action are the physical manifestations of the plot.
Just as we work hard at refining dialogue and figuring out where to drop clues in the story, we need to look at how we write about how our characters move (or don’t move). Nothing drags the pace of crisp dialogue or take the shock out of a good plot twist like fussy, overly-specific descriptions of action.
Now, it’s time to plant your feet on the ground, push with your legs, stand up out of your chair, reach your arms above your head, breathing in to expand your ribs (optional nostril-flaring) as you get a good stretch before lowering your arms, rolling your shoulders, sitting down in your chair, putting your arms on the desk, and getting back to work.
Full disclosure: after I post this blog, I’m probably going to go day drink and listen to Aretha’s “Respect” on repeat. Mansplaining romance and erotica has a way of doing that to me.
Yesterday, Robert Gottlieb wrote a round-up of romance novels in the New York Times Book Review. Frankly, it’s more like he herds an entire genre into the slaughterhouse chute of his wit. But, just like slaughterhouses, his wit is ugly, messy, and not something that ever needed to see the light of day.
Shall we ask why they got a man who doesn’t even work in the genre to do this? Wait, never mind. You know what they say. Ask a stupid question…get a thousand witty answers…
The whole article can be summed up in this:
This retro venture, flatly written like all Steel’s books, is just further evidence of how romance can swing any which way. Regency, psychopaths, wedding planners, ranchers, sadists, grandmas, bordellos, dukes (of course); whips, fish tacos, entails, Down syndrome, recipes, orgasms — romance can absorb them all, which suggests it’s a healthy genre, not trapped in inflexibility. Its readership is vast, its satisfactions apparently limitless, its profitability incontestable. And its effect? Harmless, I would imagine. Why shouldn’t women dream? After all, guys have their James Bonds as role models. Are fantasies of violence and danger really more respectable than fantasies of courtship and female self-empowerment? Or to put it another way, are Jonathan’s Bolognese and Cam’s cucumber salsa any sillier than “Octopussy’s” Alfa Romeo and Bond’s unstirred martinis? Robert Gottlieb, NYT Book Review, 9/26/17
This is a man who believes Barbara Cartland is about as steamy as romance should get. (Full disclosure, I love me the occasional BC, and this is not anything against sweet romance.)
No orgasm, solo or in tandem, we should note, graces the pages of the most prolific and successful romance queen of all time, Barbara Cartland, step-grandmother of Princess Diana and author of 723 novels, 160 of them unpublished at her death (just before her 99th birthday) in 2000. Her son is still doling these out, one a month, as “The Pink Collection,” and they are without benefit of sex. The formidable Barbara knew where her readers wanted the line drawn: No Cartland heroine ever came into contact with a hardened rod. Robert Gottlieb, NYT, 9/26/17
You really have to read the rest for yourselves.
Ron Hogan is my new hero. He gives one of the most lucid, point-by-point take-downs of this kind of criticism I’ve ever seen. Read it here and give the man some love. Read the original bit of mansplaining (though, if you have high blood pressure, you may not want to – it’s rage stroke-worthy).
I will always be the first to say that we do quite a bit of dumb shit to ourselves as writers in the romance/erotica genres, and often, we fully deserve the scorn, teasing, and other pokings through the bars of the cage that we get.
However, there is a different between pointing out the trite and tropey in a genre and DENIGRATING THE GENRE IN ITS ENTIRETY!
For a guy who has edited Toni Morrison, Nora Ephron, and others, he comes as across as a seriously uninformed dick who delights in “mansplaining” everything that is wrong with a wildly successful genre (that earns enough money to pretty much keep the rest of the industry flourishing and off life support because there are only so many painfully precious lit fic books one can read before wanting to go to a poetry reading and sarcastically catcall the people at the mic) that is dominated by women who for the most part seem to know what they are doing and drive 90% of the innovation in book marketing and sub-genres.
Yes, that monstrosity of a (grammatically-correct!) sentence probably deserves your scorn. Let me try again.
Gottlieb needs to SIT DOWN.
(Strunk and White would be so proud of me for that bit of ruthless editing.)
I also can’t figure out why Gottlieb feels the need to write something this stupid and incendiary. There are a couple of possible reasons:
Early onset dementia;
He’s angling to be Paolo Coehlo’s next editor and needs to edge out the competition;
He really, really wants to retire, but can’t bring himself to quit, so he’s hoping to get fired;
I have no fucking clue…it’s just such a stupid move on his part.
It’s not even tied to the principle of all publicity is good publicity. As an editor and a reviewer, he can indulge in constructive criticism and gentle ribbing all he wants with authors. But to piss them off en bloc? *shrugs* just dumb.
I can’t even go near the whole thing about characters not sounding…well, let me just quote Ron Hogan here, because, like I said…I can’t even…
But then there’s this gem: “Zoe and Carver are African-Americans, though except for some scattered references to racial matters, you’d never know it.” Now that’s an interesting comment to make—and, sure, as Toni Morrison’s former editor, Gottlieb isn’t exactly a complete noob when it comes to African-American culture. But declaring that Hodge’s characters don’t seem very African-American raises a question: How should African-American characters behave to sufficiently convey their African-Americanness to readers? And that, readers, is a question that leads to few if any good answers, especially not from 86-year-old white men. Now, the New York Times may not be the only place an 86-year-old white man get away with saying a black woman’s characters don’t seem very black to him without anybody in the editorial chain chiming in about whether this literally gratuitous swipe is really necessary to the overarching theme of the essay. But it’s a place where this sort of thing is not uncommon. (Those of us with particularly long memories may think back to the time Ward Just, reviewing Stephen L. Carter’s debut novel, seemed genuinely amazed at how the black bourgeoisie comported itself.)
Ron Hogan, “All the Dumb Things You Can Say About Romance Novels in One Convenient Place,” Medium.com, 9/27/17
I’m pretty sure that he will read all the protesting comments and blog posts about this and chuckle to himself at the way all the little ladies out there are overtaxing our tiny, organ-obsessed brains to try and outwit him.
Therefore, I am issuing a challenge to Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr: TAKE DOWN GOTTLIEB. With humor. With memes. Topple him from his throne.
Don’t forget to tag me so I can see your brilliance!
I have long wanted to write about one of my greatest literary influences. Figuring out just how to do it, however, has been tricky.
I wanted to introduce everyone to E.F. Benson’s “Lucia” series, but then, part of me worried that 1920’s-1930’s English county life satire might not be everyone’s cup of tea. I might even get strange looks or *shudder* side eye.
But then, I reasoned, if anyone has read Evelyn Waugh and enjoyed his works, he or she would enjoy the less bitter but equally mordant wit of Benson in “Lucia.” Or, if anyone has read P.G. Wodehouse’s Jeeves or Blandings Castle works, they would appreciate the slightly sharper edge to Benson’s wit.
Yet, another obstacle to sharing my soul-deep devotion to these books popped up. It was a paradox worthy of Zeno (damn you, freshman year Philosophy 101 with Mr. McCarthy at Vassar!). It is that the apotheosis of Benson’s brilliance is reached with “Mapp and Lucia,” but that it is the fourth book in the series. Certainly, you can read “Mapp and Lucia” cold and appreciate it at face value, but without reading the first three books, you are left out of the sly inside jokes about Italian, the Moonlight Sonata, baby talk, and dueling.
On the other hand, if you put your hand to the plow and work through the first three books (and short story), you receive a tremendous education as a writer, in addition to the pleasure of getting the inside scoop about Lucia, Georgie, Miss Mapp, Major Benjy, Diva Plaistow (‘christened Godiva, such a handicap’), and Mrs. Wyse and her sables.
LUCIA IN TRAINING
I have come to truly appreciate the process that Benson went through in evolving as a writer when he tackled the Lucia series. He had achieved a modicum of renown for his ghost stories and other gentle social comedies. He also wrote a curious work on figure skating (oh, the hidden depths of the one-term Mayor of Rye!). But, with Lucia, he decided to create a protagonist that we would absolutely detest, yet couldn’t resist rooting for.
Lucia is a pretender and a snob. She is the original mean girl who is ironically without a truly mean bone in her body. She is petty, though, and keeps score. She fibs and dominates her way to the top of the social life in the small, sleepy English village of Riseholme. No matter the mutinies the supporting cast might stage, Lucia always emerges serenely, graciously victorious, bestowing her particular brand of vindictive forgiveness on the vanquished.
At least, that is the Lucia we know and love by the end of “Mapp and Lucia.” Benson is uneven and, at times, unkind in his portrayal of her in the first two books. You almost get a sense that he was frustrated with his various attempts to sketch her just right (like Georgie and his eternal attempts to capture the Landgate in his art). He begins to hit his stride at the end of “Lucia in London,” but then, it’s as if this final burst of virtuosity wears him out, and he seeks refuge in the picturesque town of Tilling.
Tilling is based on the actual town of Rye in England. Benson lived there for many years in Lamb House, which is the basis for the famous Mallards. He even served as mayor. He was a scholar of ancient Greece and came from a family deeply immersed in the Anglican church. There is a theory that he based the character of Lucia on a female novelist acquaintance, and he himself finds a way to vent his spleen as the delightfully, righteously malicious Miss Mapp.
Miss Mapp is to Tilling what Lucia is to Riseholme. But, with Tilling, Benson fine-tuned his supporting cast to perfection, as well as giving the reader shops and landmarks that Riseholme lacked. With the book “Miss Mapp,” we see Benson testing his blade and finding that it is just right and ready for a return to Lucia. But all of Riseholme’s dramas put together lack the ‘spleen and savagery’ of a single game of bridge in Tilling.
Therefore, Benson must move Lucia to Tilling, which he does in “Mapp and Lucia.” The results are…cosmic. The rivalry of Miss Mapp and Lucia is epic. Nelson and Napoleon come to mind, as does Rome and Carthage. The battles are bloody, and the strategies cold and steely. It is human nature at its absolutely most entertaining.
LUCIA THE MAGNIFICENT
It’s also human nature at its most identifiable. Strip away the stage dressing of the 1920’s and 1930’s with their telegrams, marketing baskets, and custom of dressing for dinner, and you have a trenchant but kindly portrait of the faults, foibles, and fierceness of character. We can all identify with Lucia in the moment she is about to be found out in a little white lie or exaggeration. We can all identify with the baffled fury of Miss Mapp at a snub. We share Diva’s excitement over a new dress, or Georgie’s pleasure in the comforts of home. Their emotions are as human and timeless as our own.
There are few authors that I will read more than one book from. There are even fewer that I will re-read. I read the complete “Make Way for Lucia” series at least two or three times a year. There is always something new to discover in his magnificent, masterful manipulation of language. Every time I read these books, I gain new insights about pacing, dialogue tagging, restraint, and description. I luxuriate in his unabashedly rich use of vocabulary. I am obsessed with cracking the code to what keeps the humor fresh.
In “Lucia in London,” while the titular character is busy clawing her way to the top of the smart set in the metropolis, a clique of devotees dub themselves ‘Luciaphils’ because they find her brazen antics utterly captivating and entertaining.
Legion are those who, in the decades since the first printing, have sworn allegiance to the society of Luciaphils. There have been attempts to capture the cheeky charm and bloody wit for the small screen. Unfortunately, these have been as successful as Lucia’s attempts at a ‘morsel of Stravinski.’ Some things simply cannot be translated from the written word.
Speaking of the written word, though, the English novelist Tom Holt (another one of my favorites) managed to capture Benson’s voice and wit perfectly in two novels and a short story. It’s kind of the ultimate fan fiction, and yet, it’s more than that. It’s a true homage to a master. Therefore, I recommend after completing “Make Way for Lucia,” you should try “Lucia Triumphant,” “Lucia in Wartime,” and “The Diplomatic Incident” (in that order, despite their publication dates).
I would love to initiate more people into the wonderful world of Lucia, and Luciaphils are always welcome here for Lobster a la Riseholme and Isabelle Poppit’s red currant fool…
I am a good person. A kind person. I love animals. I brake for pedestrians. I return my shopping cart to the cart corral. Usually.
Yet, as a writer, I spend my ‘work day’ thinking about how to make my characters miserable, and it’s rare that a day goes by that I don’t think about murder…or an insanely clever way to dispose of a body.
Perfectly normal, right? RIGHT????
But, see, I’m not the only one with this contradictory nature. Victorians loved the delicious, deviant thrill of hearing about terrible things. Inveterate pearl-clutchers on the outside, on the inside, they seethed with the desire to know all the details of whatever gruesome death had been reported in the newspapers – or next door. Whichever.
MOURNING, MANNERS, AND METHODOLOGY
Death was far more present, familiar, and above all, visible to Victorians. I remember reading in Isabelle Allende’s ‘Fortune’s Daughter’ about how completely normal it was for a virgin to know more about death than sex.
Death came like an unexpected guest to rich and poor alike, however, Victorians were unfailingly courteous to the bitter end. They turned bedside vigils into social calls, funerals into music hall dramas, and wakes into tea parties with finger sandwiches and milky condolences.
When death was discourteous enough to be brash, blunt, and sudden – lacking all subtlety and sensibility – it made up for its appalling want of manners and feeling by providing the entertainment of a *whispers* investigation.
The 19th century saw both upheaval and progress in the way crime was detected. The evolution of the modern police force went hand-in-hand with the first forensic tests for arsenic, advances in autopsy procedures, and the development of investigational methodologies.
WHO KNEW DEATH COULD BE SO MUCH FUN?
The Victorians certainly were clued into the fact that death – or, more specifically, murder – could be delightful. Well, delightfully entertaining. When it wasn’t happening to them.
Naturally, I have found their delight equally delightful in both reading the books they read and reading about how they read books…and investigated murders.
To that end, I’m introducing a new feature on this blog: A Cait Reynolds Reading List.
The Poe Shadow by Matthew Pearl
The Murders in the Rue Morgue by Edgar Allan Poe
The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl
The Interpretation of Murder by Jed Rubenfeld
Death at the Priory by James Ruddick
The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale
The Beautiful Cigar Girl by Daniel Stashtower
The Invention of Murder by Judith Flanders
One of my favorite things about college was getting the reading list for every class. I loved going to the bookstore, but even more, I loved reading the books and seeing how they all connected facts, ideas, interpretations, and built a whole, full, rich picture of a subject.
It was the start of a rather serious and expensive addiction to non-fiction.
After I left college, I continued to do the same thing, though at first, it wasn’t on purpose. I would simply get fascinated by a topic and read everything I could.
I even found fiction that met my Picky Bitch standards.
Naturally, these are not the only books that are excellent on this topic. But, in a world of too many choices, sometimes it’s nice to have at least a guide to choosing.
If you like this, let me know, and I will do more of these reading lists. I’ve been putting them together for the past 20 years, so I have plenty of material.
Leave a comment if there is a particular topic you’d like me to do a reading list for, or if you’d like to some non-fiction-only or fiction-only lists!
I judge mercilessly. I fling aside into the DNF pile with wild abandon. I curl my lip at typos and sneer at poor word-smithing. I flip the bird (and sometimes the book) at puerile plotting.
However, over the course of my life, I have encountered books that have rocked my world in various ways. Some books entertained me. Some books changed my fundamental views of life and love. Others pushed my development as a writer. Still more became the type of books I want to write when I grow up.
So, without further ado, I present…the exquisite collection of Fiction Cait Would Save in a Fire.
YOUNG ADULT BOOKS
These were the books I read as a tween and teenager. Over. And over. And over again. Aside from Dandelion Wine, they all featured strong heroines on amazing adventures. These heroines faced their greatest fears, overcame mistakes, and saved the day. I read Dandelion Wine in my freshman year of high school, and one story in particular about the old lady and the young man blew me away with the magnitude of life, love, and death.
COLLEGE, FRANCE, AND THE BEAUTIFUL PAIN OF WIT
I was a French major in college and studied abroad in Paris. I made my pilgrimage to Victor Hugo’s house. I sat in cafes. I thought deep, dark thoughts about life. I then learned to both embrace the strange, bittersweet finality of things and shrug my shoulders at it, because it’s only life after all.
A cautious step beyond classics and comfort zones
Nobody should be surprised to see Jane Eyre, Pride & Prejudice, and Dracula on my list. Halton Cray is one of the most delightful riffs on Jane Eyre that I have ever read. But then, I realized I needed to start reading beyond my comfort zone, and I discovered books like Apathy and A Confederacy of Dunces that made me laugh, and books like The Shipping News and The Red Tent that made me cry.
Going Way, WAY out of my comfort Zone
None of these books have anything in common…except for the fact that they are amazing. Each one of them is exquisitely written, completely immersive, book-hangover-worthy, and taught me something absolutely vital about the craft of writing.
THE UNICORN: SERIES I WILL ACTUALLY READ
I will not read series. In general, I find it difficult to maintain interest in the characters over the long term. However, these writers managed to convince me that their characters had more to give, more to grow, and more to say. That is the highest tribute I can give a writer’s craft. Well, that, and buying the next book in the series.
I SHOWED YOU MINE…
Now, show me yours!
Leave a comment with your “Shelf of Fiction You Would Save in a Fire”!
I am insatiably curious. This has led to a slight issue (some might say addiction) with buying books.
For an author, my actual collection of fiction is quite small. That’s probably because I’m such a picky bitch about the caliber of storytelling and writing I will read.
But, non-fiction? OMG, it’s a real problem. Eric and I recently went to IKEA because I had to buy a whole new bookshelf system. I got the Billy bookshelves…and the extra shelf extension. I literally have books floor-to-ceiling now.
Yet, I regret nothing. NOTHING.
but…but…isn’t all that non-fiction boring?
Hardly! Most of the time, I end up reading things and am like, ‘You seriously can’t make that shit up.’ Reality is way, way weirder than fiction. Dragons included.
I will absolutely admit that non-fiction has experienced a renaissance since the 90’s, shaking off the dust of academic ponderous pomposity and embracing engaging narratives, clever topics, and intelligent and witty writing.
Most importantly, though, is the fact that through non-fiction, we learn more about the world and people around us. What’s more fascinating than that? The more I read, no matter what the subject, the more I see intriguing connections that help me weave more complex, compelling stories.
It doesn’t matter if you are writing historical, contemporary, paranormal, romance, or even epic fantasy. Reading non-fiction will make you a better writer.
Non-Fiction and Research
It’s hard to think of a single really good work of fiction that hasn’t relied on some pretty solid non-fiction research.
I can think of a lot of really, really bad fiction that clearly shows signs of the author not giving a fuck about facts. I remember reading an erotica story where the main female character is an interior designer. She lands a multi-million dollar project designing a hotel…and pitches in with the painting crew she hired to help paint the owner’s suite to get it done on time.
REALLY? REALLY???? Seriously?
It would have taken exactly six minutes to go to Wikipedia, look up ‘interior designer,’ and scrolled down to the bottom where it lists exactly the type of work that interior designers do, as opposed to…interior decorators. As opposed to people pretending to be interior designers who violate all kinds of union, OSHA, and other insurance and contract restrictions to ‘pitch in’ and help paint walls.
Sure, we could say that it’s ‘just’ erotica, and we’re supposed to be suspending disbelief anyway. Let’s just put aside any kind of professional pride, attention to detail, and desire to produce quality books. From a purely technical perspective, taking care to get a little detail like that right (even if it means reading a boring Wikipedia article) actually encourages the suspension of belief. Accuracy grounds a story in reality in a way that is absolutely tantalizing because it is logical and could happen, and therefore enhances the fantasy.
Okay, I may have gone off the rails a bit here, but my main point stands. Good fiction needs research, and research gets easier the more we accustom ourselves to reading non-fiction.
It’s almost as bad as wearing a pocket protector
Okay, fine. I’ll admit it. It’s not just books I have a problem with.
I am an insatiable magazine article ripper-outer. Daphne Lamb, Kim Alexander, and Genevieve Raas from The Fabulous Fictionistas can attest to this, having seen me tear through show dailies, catalogs, and other periodicals at Book Expo America.
My husband, bless him, knows me so very, very well. For Christmas one year, he got me a subscription to ‘Astronomy.’ I have my own subscriptions to ‘Discover’ and ‘Archaeology.’
I am the chick on the beach, drinking things with umbrellas in them and completely engrossed in an article about black holes. Don’t get me wrong. I am not a scientist and even less of a mathematician. God invented calculators for a reason. ‘Discover’ is written for people like me. Obscure scientific ideas are broken down simply. The writing is clear and entertaining. And, over time, the more I read, the more I learn, and the more familiar scientific concepts become.
I know what you are thinking. Don’t I write historical romance and paranormal YA? What am I doing reading about amoebas and pretending it makes a difference to my writing?
Well, just for the record, I drew on some of the articles I had read about quantum physics and astronomy for ‘Downcast,’ and the sequel has quite a bit of science behind the scenes. In fact, the whole premise of ‘Thunderstruck’ came from an article in ‘Discover.’
It’s more than that, though.
I’ve come across articles about how neurochemistry can explain why we get such a rush from reconnecting with a first love. I’ve read about pioneering immunology research in the 1880’s that used bacteria and provided a critical breakthrough with major writer’s block. I get clues I didn’t know I was looking for, plot bunnies, and just the sheer pleasure of exercising my brain.
Science and history are not everyone’s cup of tea…or Petri dish. I get it. But, we should all be constantly learning and expanding our horizons in both literature and non-fiction. The more we learn and know, the more we naturally anchor our story to facts, pay attention to world-building, and create connections between characters and concepts that make our stories deeper, richer, and most importantly…more worth reading.
It’s the start of a new blog – sort of. File it under “The Sort of Thing That Only Happens to Cait.” It began with going to my blog and seeing that all my images had disappeared…and ended up learning more about Bollywood porn spammers than I ever wanted to.
Long story short (because I’d have to include all the language I used when learning how to ftp into my site, clean virus and spam files, rebuild the site, etc., and that would mean putting an Adult Content Warning label on this blog), it ended up being a bit of a mixed blessing.
I lost some of my funny manuscript marginalia posts, but I gained clarity about what I actually want to blog about. And, what I want to blog about goes against the advice of almost all the author social media experts: writing.
Yup. I want to blog about writing and editing. (I know, you’re wondering when I get to the canceling Kindle Unlimited part, but it’s coming.) Apparently, I have a lot to say about it because my friends and family all cautiously edge away when anyone asks me my opinions about writing and editing.
Okay, now we’re getting to the Kindle Unlimited thing
I canceled it.
Oh, you got that already.
WHY did I cancel a service that for $9.99/month would let me read ALL the books I wanted to…so long as they were participating in the Kindle Unlimited program?
Because I couldn’t stand it any longer. The typos, the sloppy craft, the puerile plotting, the two-dimensional characters, and the utterly, utterly predictable endings all drove me into a wild rage. Admittedly, I’m a picky b*tch when it comes to reading fiction, but frankly, out of the hundreds, if not thousands of KU books I read or tried, only a handful barely come up to the quality standards that most traditionally-published books meet.
Wait! Wait, before you flame me for being one of those dream-crushing, anti-self-publishing haters, just hear me out a little more?
I have been self-published. I have worked with small publishers. I have worked with hybrid publishers. I’m pretty sure there are probably still typos in my books, and while what I have published is solid, I suffer from the writer’s dilemma of looking back at cringing at writing from two or three years ago. I feel your pain. I hear your cries of “Why, KDP, why won’t you update this file?” I know what it’s like to dwell in the purgatory of the 200,000 rankings and get that whopping $0.26 royalty payout.
But, here’s the thing. I have also seen the rise of competitive review trolling (seriously, it’s like an Olympic sport now), buying reviews, gift-ranking manipulation scandals, and Amazon’s own delightful habit of deleting reviews from people we care connected to on social media (because ‘Build relationships,’ they said…’It’ll be fun,’ they said…). I have seen the rise of ‘authorpreneurs’ where we writers are desperately hawking our other talents in editing, proofreading, ghost-writing, cover design, and layout to other authors in hopes of paying the bills for our own publishing costs, thereby creating a damnable feeder loop of dependency in the space-time continuum.
What really drove me over the edge, however, is waking up one morning and finally seeing how writing and publishing are truly in peril from Amazon KDP.
The Sword of KENP
With Kindle Unlimited, we authors are paid by the page. More pages. More money.
Except, remember that whole PageFlip thing from last year? Yeah. How many people woke up to find NO pages read? Fun times. Oh, and let’s not forget the slowly dwindling payout-per-page rate. $0.0049 per page. On a 200-page book (with pages determined by Kindle), that is a whopping $0.98 payout.
Considering that we pay $150 on average just for a decent cover, not to mention the $300-500 for editing and proofreading, and up to another $100 for layout…
Better start cranking out those pages, because now, we’re on a hamster wheel of endlessly trying to play catch-up with our expenses. Let’s not even talk about the cost of websites, advertising, swag, etc.
When we are paid according to KENP (stands for something about number of pages read whatever), we are trapped. Yes, there are authors out there making decent money from self-publishing. But how many aren’t? How many are getting lured into the authorpreneurship-hamster-wheel loop of the space-time continuum?
What is the price of all of this…because there is always a price.
The price is quality.
The price is being able to make a livable wage.
The price is having no gatekeepers to push us to improve our writing and tell us when a story is not ready for prime time.
That is why I canceled my Kindle Unlimited account. If I want to see things change in the publishing industry, I have to put my money where my mouth is.
If I want to read a book, I will buy it.
But, in return for my money (and more importantly, my TIME), that book had better be damn good. I don’t want typos. I don’t want sloppy writing. I don’t want predictable plots and boring characters. I don’t want a glaring lack of research, logic, and pacing.
If we want to keep claiming that self-publishing is where it’s at, then we need to up our game. I just came back from Book Expo America, and I have to tell you, the saddest area of the show floor was where the self-published authors all had their little tables. For all the noise about the Big 5 failing, they seemed pretty unconcerned as they watched the lines for their ARCs and autograph sessions wind three times around the booth.
Don’t get me wrong. The rise of KDP did some great things for publishing, waking up the establishment and giving access to voices that couldn’t find purchase in the mainstream. However, just like the housing boom and every other boom we’ve ever seen, there is going to be a bust.
I guarantee it.
The number of authors and books is growing at a rate that is outstripping KU subscribers. The pressure on Amazon’s profit margin for KU is increasing. Why do you think they started PageFlip? Why do you think they have been dipping their toe into various submission/gate-keeping programs?
Winter is coming. And, by winter, I mean quality control.
Which…brings us full circle back to the fact that I am going to be writing about writing and editing and publishing from now on. Okay, maybe I’ll throw in some cat marginalia from time-to-time, but for the most part, I’m here to man the barricades and lead the revolution.
So, buckle up. It’s a new day, and a new era of demanding better from ourselves in order to demand more from the publishing industry.