Reading

 

Reading is a solitary activity that offers a sure guide to navigating society and our many relationships. 

In The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett, Queen Elizabeth, while chasing after her corgis, discovers a mobile library in a courtyard where she meets the librarian and the sole patron, a member of her kitchen staff. She welcomes a book suggestion from the young servant, Norman, and takes a liking to him while anticipating pushback from senior staff about her decision to read a book. “Hobbies involved preferences and preferences had to be avoided; preferences excluded people…. Her job was to take an interest, not to be interested herself.” Indeed, the senior advisors assure that they can brief her on any subject, but the Queen bristles: “briefing is not reading. In fact it is the antithesis of reading. Briefing is terse, factual and to the point… Briefing closes down a subject, reading opens it up.” 

Elizabeth promotes Norman to assist her in procuring books and regrets not reading more in her early years: “for the first time in her life she felt there was a good deal she had missed.” She describes herself as an opsimath, “one who learns only late in life.” Reading absorbs her, instigating new thinking and ideas. She loses enthusiasm for routines and duties – “what the Queen had not expected was the degree to which it drained her of enthusiasm for anything else.” 

Of course, palace staff terminate Norman, suggesting the queen has lost interest and arrange to fund his  college education. The staff then deceive the queen by explaining that Norman resigned to pursue his studies. While happy for him, Elizabeth sadly reflects how “sudden absences and abrupt departures had always been a feature of her life…. ‘We mustn’t worry Her Majesty’ was a guiding principle for all her servants.”

As the queen reads more, she shows a more human side. She finds herself caring more about other people. While reading Henry James, she retorts “Oh, do get on” to the book, and her maid apologizes and the Queen is compelled to explain. “Previously she wouldn’t have cared what the maid thought or that she might have hurt her feelings, only now she did and … she wondered why.” More highly placed staff – many who are poorly read themselves – fret that the Queen is not herself, with some even assuming dementia. 

Relishing the revelations found in books, the Queen tries to share her enthusiasm and recommendations. The prime minister’s special advisor complains to her chief of staff: “your employer has been giving my employer a hard time …. Lending him books to read.” Rather than be direct, the Queen’s advisor arranges for her books to be misplaced during an overseas trip. 

Staff machinations backfire as the Queen’s interest turns to keeping a notebook and taking more control of her life, no longer content to simply read: “A reader was next door to being a spectator, whereas when she was writing she was doing, and doing was her duty.”

At one point she jots a note to herself, “You don’t put our life into your books. You find it there.” 

The novella is sweet and light, celebrating literacy with an ending reminiscent of Royal Escape, published just nine months before The Uncommon Reader in January 2008. The protagonists, the Princess of Wales in the first novel and Queen Elizabeth in the second, reach the same conclusion about the trap that ensnares the British royal family. 

Meaning

 

Many will give up on Dayswork by Chris Bachelder and Jennifer Habel for its odd quality, a hodgepodge of observations and facts mostly about Herman Melville, arranged in brief, chatty sentences and paragraphs. Dayswork reads like a combination of documentary and poetry, or perhaps a couple playing six degrees of separation with Melville as base.

 A husband-wife team wrote the book; he’s a novelist and she’s a poet. The title page lists his name first, though strangely, most of the text is poetic with a first-person point of view, a woman chatting back and forth with her husband about her research on Melville during the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. During the course of her research, she discovers other writers who revere Melville’s work, whether Nathaniel Philbrick who called Moby-Dick “the one book that deserves to be called our American bible” or a David Gilbert who suggested it was “bible written in scrimshaw.” According to Bachelder and Habel, Gilbert relies on the book “When in doubt, or simply in need of something,” and "opens the book at random and reads aloud, his voice ‘hauling forth the words like a net full of squirmy fish.’”

The book analyzes Melville’s themes – time, whales, friendships and more – in haphazard ways while embracing Melville’s sentiment that “Life is so short, and so ridiculous and irrational.”

The book examines the dreamy quality of a writer’s dreams and disappointments, explaining that Melville was fascinated by the sea – endless, masterless – even while spending much of his life on land, often quarreling with his family. The authors quote from the Odyssey: “For I say there is no other thing that is worse than the sea is / for breaking a man, even though he may be a very strong one.” The researcher-protagonist ponders how Melville endured a series of hardships – the death of his oldest son at age 18 and another dead at age 35 as well as a daughter who could not bear her father’s name.

One devastating sentence, albeit from another writer, captures uneven and tragic portioning of luck in life. “‘It’s brutal,’ writes poet Robert Haas, ‘the way some lives / Seem to work and some don’t.’” And the reader understands, though wondering whether Melville would agree that literary greatness is enough. 

The characters yearn for meaning in the midst of forced isolation and the style suggests that the authors set out to play a game with words and plot even as the pandemic had a way of making everything people did seem both more notable and mundane.  At one point, a character notes. “Even a quiet person says a lot in a day, almost all of which is forgotten. Not forgotten, I suppose, but unremembered.”  

We can use more care with our words, whether meant for everyday conversation or destined for posterity.                                                          

I Write Like...

I Write Like is a free tool to analyze writing excerpts. Users insert a few paragraphs into a box, and the tool assesses the text based on  word choice and style to determine which famous author's work the excerpt most resembles.

So I immediately tested a few graphs from my most recent novel, Allure of Deceit, a scene of two frightened children running away from home. The tool suggested that the text was similar to that of J.K. Rowling. Then I tried a different section, one on a main character reflecting on his age, and was advised the text resembled that of author Neil Gaiman.And then another section from the final climax - that was identified as similar to work by science fiction writer Harry Harrison. I tried yet another section, early in the book, a section describing a mother's curiosity about a son's death, and that was assigned Jane Austen.

The results were surprising and may suggest that my writing is inconsistent over the course of several hundred pages. But then again, perhaps not. I turned to an excerpt of Harry Potter & and the Goblet of Fire by J.K. Rowling and inserted her text - and lo and behold, that was assigned a badge from Kurt Vonnegut. The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss was reported to be similar to work by James Joyce.

I came late to this little game and was relieved to discover that many other writers had tried the software and posted similar results on social media. "Obviously, I Write Like isn't an exact science," wrote Jake Coyle for HuffPost Books in 2011. "But simply the idea of an algorithm that can reveal traces of influence in writing has proven wildly popular."

The software, developed by Dmitry Chestnykh of Coding Robots, went online in 2010 and is largely based on keywords. Chestnykh explained in an email that the assessment tool is limited to 52 authors. He provided the list, and all are notable.

The length of text inserted into the tool matters. A partial excerpt of the speech by Sarah Palin endorsing Donald Trump as presidential candidate was described as similar to writings David Foster Wallace. The full text of her speech was assigned the badge of Rudyard Kipling.

There are no rankings that suggest an excerpt is immature or needs improvement. The tool accepts the world's most amateur works, including schoolwork by a second grader or comments on Yahoo, and all are compared to famous works and assigned a badge from one of the 52 famous authors.

And that is probably wise. Any assessment of writing, including I Write Like, is subjective. What matters is that we try to write and connect with others though our work. In Rethinking Rubrics in Writing Assessment, Maja Wilson describes being "convinced that there is something fundamentally sacred about teaching writing - about helping another person to express and shape their humanity through language."

Writing offers a window into the thoughts of others - and as such, writing and tools that aid revision and fine-tuning should be also encouraged. Fortunately, the I Write Like tool does not store or use inserted text for purposes other than the quick assessment. 

Rigid

As an editor, working to display others' voices in print, I try to avoid the traps of rigid rules. I ask questions and propose alternatives and present my reasons, and nineteen times out of twenty, the writers tend to agree. And as a writer, I deeply appreciate editors, following most of their advice and offering reasons and my thought process for the few points on which we may not agree. 

Such is the writing-revision-editing process.

But some readers and writers try to impose restrictions on the choice of story or basic elements like setting, protesting themes or methods or research before the words even hit the paper. And this I resist, and I'll continue to rebel against such rigid attitudes fiercely. 

Virginia Pye writes about one category of writer-reader for the New York Times: "When I tell people that I have recently published a novel set in China, one of the first questions they ask is whether I’ve been there. My response seems to be a letdown. The expectant look on their faces shifts as they wonder why I chose to write about a place I’ve never visited. Sometimes I sense incredulity. What makes me think I can write about China?"

And Pye goes on to describe the beautiful and good reasons why China as a topic tugged at her, much how I described being drawn to write about Afghanistan despite having never traveled to the country. Readers don't have to read books written by those who have never traveled to those settings, but shrill demands that we stop writing about certain topics can only be described as censorship. 

I commented on Pye's article: 

"A story about a woman desperate to learn how to read cried out to be told, and a trip of a few weeks or months could not have compensated for imagination and my own life experiences with literacy. More essential for a tale is a writer's observations of ambition, relationships and affairs of the heart.

"As I wrote for a blog in 2013, 'I had so many strong ideas in 2009 about religion, extremism, women's rights, literacy, parenting, our troops -- how could I not set a book in Afghanistan? And as a writer, I realized that I didn’t need that many details other than the gut feeling that the parallels and connections between my country and Afghanistan are many.'

"Alas, for writers who think they must travel to write: Your readers will still conduct their purity tests. My first book was set in Alaska where I had lived and worked for five years, and readers still pepper the traveler-writers with questions on how long you stayed and where, and censor themselves accordingly."

And there was one response from Lucy of Becket, MA:

"I strongly disagree.... My forthcoming novel is set in the States and in the Pashtun area of Pakistan. I thought I knew what I was about after reading a dozen books on Pakistan and Pashtun culture. But I had no idea - none - about the true similarities and differences between my culture and theirs until I spent serious time in that dangerous, difficult, head-spinning place and got to know its people."

My experiences may not include travels to Afghanistan, and a village like Laashekoh may not exist. It may not matter to some readers that I grew up during early years in one household where dreams of travel or cultural exchanges were unthinkable, that I have read and researched and written and edited articles about globalization for the past eight years, or met with refugees and worked as a literacy tutor with adults who cannot read. I make no apologies for my lack of travel or life experiences. The story probably has errors - particularly on the military side - but the story about a quest for literacy and family relationships is not automatically inauthentic, as suggested by Lucy in her comment.

No worthy, caring teacher would discourage students against exploring by writing about a setting, a time period, a career, a condition that they have not personally experienced.  

The intention behind Fear of Beauty may not be a story about Laashekoh or Afghanistan but rather a warning for women of my own country about how the powerful use religion and fear and rules to restrict basic curiosity. Never, never let anyone restrict where you choose to direct your literary curiosity.

A happy new year, one that is full of exploring and curiosity. Photo of an Afghan National Civil Order Policeman in Wishtan, courtesy of Lance Cpl. Timothy J. Lenzo and Wikimedia Commons.    

Storytelling

Breaking Bad offered lessons on life and storytelling.

Trust is fleeting. Does anyone ever know who they can trust? Trust entails imagining what others say and think about you. Imagine the worst and then how they might describe you to others, whether they will will stop to listen or interrupt what they're doing to lend a hand.

What’s left unsaid can shape opinions as much as what’s said.

Any individual character has the potential for surprise. Do not make the mistake of dismissing others. They can guess what you’re thinking and will react. 

You can’t escape family. The bonds may vary, and the attachments will annoy, even enrage others who don’t have similar bonds.

Characters are invincible when they are calm and stop caring.

The ordinary can be extraordinary, and it’s up to you not to overlook it.

Your life is a story and, believe me, you want to shape the telling with the choices you make every day. Stories can go awry when choices are no longer made, when characters stop living deliberately and let events slide out of control. Confidence can slip into panic and resignation and back again. Yet characters who practice observation, patience, secrets, and other forms of cautious deliberation, their stories are suspenseful and no less meaningful.  

Photo of Bryan Cranston as Walter White, courtesy of AMC's Breaking Bad and Wikimedia.

Censorship

Fiction can be both truth and a product of imagination. But some unimaginative readers and reviewers automatically, arrogantly, dismiss a book for lack of authenticity if the author has not traveled to the locale, if the author does not share a protagonist's ethnicity, career or religion, and yet they can offer no other detailed criticism.

Ian Reifowitz writes for In the Fray and Truthout:  "But fundamentally, this line of criticism — that artists or writers can’t tell a particular story because they are of a different ethnic background from the subjects of the film or history — is a form of prejudice, too. It may not have the life-and-death stakes of the kind of prejudice that motivated George Zimmerman, but it is prejudice nonetheless."

Yes, it's prejudice and also censorship, a form of control to limit uncomfortable stories that need to be told. And we can only pity those who refuse to let their imaginations soar.

More about my quest for authenticity on the blog from Dina Santorelli, author of Baby Grand:

"Fiction goes beyond the reporting of facts. Writers can be obsessed with small details and miss the larger truths. As Stephen King once suggested, an author can become 'too busy listening to other voices to listen as closely as he should have to the one coming from inside.'"

Image by Fear of Beauty.

Analysis

What was most fun in writing Fear of Beauty? Switching back and forth in point of view between two diverse characters, an illiterate Afghan woman and an Army Ranger in charge of security of a nearby outpost. First-person point of view suits Sofi, and the more distant third-person suits Joey.

Kristen Elise of Murder Lab analyzes the back-and-forth point of view in Fear of Beauty. She explains that the book's "two subplots mesh at the beginning of Chapter 7" and describes the "approach of juxtaposing the first- and third-person perspectives as hallmarks of independent subplots" as "a fabulous way to include the intimacy of a first-person perspective while, in parallel, allowing the reader to observe scenes that the first-person protagonist would not have been privy to."

Her analysis is sharp, maybe because of her scientific background as a cancer drug discovery biologist within a major pharmaceutical company and as author of The Vesuvius Isotope and The Death Row Complex.

Those who write a book discover that reading other books is never the same. Writers are judges. Do check out Murder Lab.

Image courtesy of Murder Lab.

By hand

A research study has shown that children write more quickly with more quantity when they draft manuscripts by hand rather than keyboard.  "But when using a pen, the children in all three grade levels [2nd, 4th and 6th grades] produced longer essays and composed them at a faster pace," reports Joel Schwarz of the University of Washington, in Futurity. The study was headed by Virginia Berninger, University of Washington professor of educational psychology who studies normal writing development and writing disabilities.

The study tested children at three tasks, writing the alphabet both by hand on keyboard; writing a sentence based on one prompt word, both by hand and on keyboard; and writing essays on given topics in 10 minutes.

Victor Burg who taught writing at the Kennedy School of Government during late 1980s and early 1990s often recommended those with writers block to try handwritten drafts. He was advising graduate students tackling assignments on economic and public policy and supervising writing instructors who prepared mid-career students for the graduate program. At the time I was surprised but have since come to realize that it's solid advice for any writing project.

In Fear of Beauty, much of Sofi's personality and voice was developed with handwriting in a notebook, an activity this character had long yearned to try. The task becomes more urgent after the death of her son and she wants to preserve his memory. Yet even securing a pencil and notebook requires subterfuge.

Photo of statue of Isaiah holding pen at Piazza Spagna in Rome, courtesy of gnuckx and Wikimedia Commons.

Stories

Publicity doesn’t have to be a chore. Instead, authors need to turn to what they do best – tell a story, shedding light on the motivations and purpose behind their work. Every stage of publishing the book – from telling the story to attracting an agent and publisher, hiring a publicist, posing for  photos, answering questions from journalists or fans, running workshops, sending out messages on social media – should include storytelling devices. 

Stories of characters in a book probably connect with stories from the author’s life – and authors can’t help but remember moments that triggered the tale.  So, more work has probably been accomplished than the author realizes.

Every communication from an author can unleash back story:

• Books typically have several themes, and authors should have strong opinions on those themes.  If those themes connect with current events, then draft 500 words – opinion essays, book reviews, feature articles and blog entries for newspapers or television – presenting a perspective drawing on anecdotes from real life or the novel itself. Such expertise leads to speaking engagements and opportunity to tell more stories.   
•   For profiles or interviews, be prepared to answer the question, “How did you get the idea of this book?” Nicholas Sparks tells that story on his website. And there’s the story behind ideas and their process: Greg Breeding describes the story behind Bono’s song, “One,” in an article for Story Matters, an online magazine from design and publishing firm Journey.  “Great ideas do seem to come out of nowhere, but then again, the intentional push against mediocrity is the rich soil where excellence takes root,” he writes. “Hard work doesn’t necessarily produce greatness, but it’s hard to imagine that the really great ideas come without it.”
• Linking articles connected to book themes on an author’s website can attract invitations to write or speak.
• Images can relay stories and increase curiosity. Categories, captions and photos in Pinterest can reveal how an author selects details. Even a quick brief clip of a workshop, posted on YouTube, can introduce an author’s attitude.  
• Communications – enchanting, intriguing, instructive or funny – should be concise, focused on one of the book’s theme.  Twitter posts, long conversations or stand-alones, can relay a story and raise suspense. Tweets that read like poetry or moments of weakness, blasting a critic’s review, do attract notice.
• Take advantage of read-made social media for storytelling and control the story on LibraryThing, Goodreads or Facebook Timeline.  
•  No author is going to be an expert at every facet of publicity. Don’t panic. Jacket Copy from The Los Angeles Times gives the best advice – make it fun.

      One huge difference between drafting story for novels versus publicity is timing. Deadlines loom for publicity. Copy must be submitted quickly. There’s less time or tolerance for a bad first draft. Writers must be spontaneous, coherent and insightful for social media and any type of interview. Practice helps.

Photo of Afghan students participate in online discussion about traditional stories, courtesy of US State Department and Wikimedia Commons. 

Media as weapon

By now, protesters around American embassies in Egypt, Libya, Yemen, should realize the film "The Innocence of Muslims" was at best a lame project and at worst a deliberate conspiracy to stir anger at the United States and perhaps even influence the US election.

Reports that there is no film, just a trailer, and that actors report saying one set of words and the actual online release relying the offensive dubbing could point to the latter intent. Early reports that an Israeli was behind the project add to suspicions.

Terrorists know they can draw a comic, make a film, write a story and goad angry protesters and violence. The protests display not devotion, but a willingness to be pawns.

A better, more lasting and targeted revenge? Picking up a pen and drafting poetry, literature and scripts that show the cultural relevance of Islam.

Violence does not show respect for a religion.

And I just came across this from Deepa Kumar, writing for McClatchy: "At the end of the day, the far right in one country has more in common with the far right in other countries than with any other segment of the world's population. The vast majority of ordinary people are sensible and nonviolent."