Category Archives: reading

5

Non-linear reading (or why the Kindle drives me nuts)

Howdy, folks! Hope everyone had a good restful Labor Day, and that you’re feeling recharged for autumn. Writing from cold, rainy NYC, it sure feels like summer headed out the door in a hurry. Of course, it will probably turn scorching and steamy again by Friday, but right now it’s one of those gray early-fall days where all you want to do is curl up in a corner with a good book—or codex,  as this insightful piece in the Sunday Times Book Review puts it.

It’s certainly thought-provoking to consider how e-readers restrict non-linear reading, and I was most excited to see Lev Grossman identify my biggest beef with the Kindle. Whenever I have an e-readers conversation with editors, we almost always agree on how great they are for reviewing submissions—I certainly don’t miss the days of dragging 300-page manuscripts home in my bag every night. But it drives me crazy that if I start reading a manuscript at my work computer, I cannot for the life of me find my place on the Kindle when I get home, no matter how many searches I try. Invariably, it’s just a long skim from “Locations 1-32” until I find the chapter where I left off—and Lord help me if I left off mid-paragraph or the document doesn’t have chapter headings!

So kudos to Grossman for pointing out this issue, and hopefully the good folks at Amazon will read the article and figure out a solution. But in the meantime, does anyone have any suggestions for how to find your place more easily? Any tricks? I’d love to know—especially on a cold, wet day that’s tailor-made for dipping into a book without having to hit the Next Page button ad nauseum.

15

Long books for a long weekend

As we head off into our final, glorious Summer Friday (sniff), I’ve got some grand plans to read my little heart out this weekend.  I’m hoping some lovely weather will mean reading somewhere outdoors and catching up on a tiny bit of work reading.  Mostly I’m looking forward to sinking into one or more of the many books teetering on the end of a table in my living room, calling out to me to read for pure, unadulterated pleasure.

None of those books are especially hefty tomes, though occasionally those taunt me from my shelves—the books I bought to prove to myself I don’t have the attention span of a gnat but am too scared to crack open, because I don’t want to be wrong.  Now Flavorwire sees fit to join in the finger pointing with this list of 10 books that they actually dare me to finish.  (What did I ever do to you, Flavorwire?)  Of them, War and Peace, A Suitable Boy, Cryptonomicon, and Infinite Jest are already on my To Tackle list—and have been since at least college.

What about you guys?  What’s the longest book you’ve ever actually finished?  I’m going to say it must be The Stand for me.  Back before I became an English major and then publishing professional, I used to feel a tremendous need to finish anything I started.  In publishing, that’s a virtual impossibility, but as a teenager I opened The Stand, never really liked it that much, and refused to stop reading till everyone had slowly plodded their way to their inevitable doom.  I actually think I probably could have walked to Vegas myself in the time it took me to get to the end of the book, but I made it.  And I’m still a little scarred from it.  I’ve never really been able to become a Stephen King fan after that.  I probably should’ve started elsewhere.

Are there any books you’re putting off because their heft is too daunting, waiting for some magical fictional future in which you’ll have endless time and patience?  Maybe this long weekend is the perfect time to give it a go.

And is there anything on this list you’ve read that’s worth struggling through?

Enjoy your weekends, and I hope you have some fun planned to see the summer off properly!  Me, I ‘m heading to the most exciting museum exhibit of all time at the Museum of the Moving Image, since I am an avowed Jim Henson Super Fan.  You’ve been warned, Astoria!

8

Advice from the top

I’m just back from a lovely week in Maine, followed by a not-so-lovely weekend of cleaning up a flooded basement. It should be a quiet catch-up week, but instead I seem to be closing one deal and negotiating another, a good thing, but it doesn’t feel like the end of August at all!

In my hustle and bustle, there was something I saw this week that caught my eye. Ann Patchett, whose work I’m a big fan of, and who I’ve blogged about before, has written a short electronic book (it’s really more like a long article) with advice to writers that she is selling through Amazon, who was advertising it through an e-mail to its customers (or at least to me since I recently downloaded State of Wonder on my Kindle).
From the description, it sounds like a memoir about Patchett’s writing life, beginning in childhood, and offers a glimpse into the path of a talented and ultimately bestselling novelist. It’s only 45 pages, but I suspect for the aspiring writer, there is a lot of great advice to be found here. I found this brief and charming excerpt from the book(let?) at Byliner.com. Judging from the reviews on Amazon, the insight she shares is very valuable. I’m curious to know if it will be successful, and if we’ll be seeing a lot more of this kind of thing. I think it’s pretty cool that writers are expanding their oeuvre in unique ways that make their work in different formats more accessible to a wider audience.

I’d love to know what you think. Is this the kind of thing you’d be interested in reading, and do you think $2.99 is a fair price for it? And if anyone out there has downloaded it already and read it, please share your thoughts. Is it worth it? Is it too short? Should she consider expanding it into a full-length memoir? Maybe this is a way to test the market and see what the reaction is before she embarks on a much longer journey. Personally, I’d be happy to read anything she writes.

14

Time to read finally, but what will it be?

So I have to be the very last person in the universe who is going on a summer vacation, and I am not actually leaving until the evening of September 6th.  This isn’t going to be a beach vacation, nor is it planned to be the least bit restful, but there will be at least three very long flights and some potentially long airport layovers—I sincerely hope they aren’t too long.

I have been so busy all summer reading proposals, signing up new projects and getting material ready for the fall, that I haven’t had a second to consider what I might read for pleasure on this trip.  So, I thought for my last blog entry of the summer, I would ask our readers what they would recommend.

First some parameters:  I spend a great deal of my work time reading nonfiction and so, though there is some which has been published in the last year that I would love to read, I don’t want to do that on this vacation. I am looking for fiction that will capture my attention and be totally absorbing; I am looking for good stories, memorable characters, and wonderful writing.  Is that too much to ask?

So, if you have time in the next several days to send me your suggestions and why you are choosing these titles for me to read, I would be very, very grateful.

I look forward to hearing.  Thank you in advance!

5

Write On

I’m going to take today’s blog post to direct you to a wonderful online resource in case any of y’all missed it.

Last week, I had a chance to take part in the WriteOnCon in two ways. I contributed a quick blog on writing queries and also took part in a delightful live panel on Tuesday with two editors and another agent.

I wanted to direct everyone there just because I found the people so delightful and was really impressed by the content, including posts from DGLM’s own Saundra Mitchell, Carrie Ryan, Nova Ren Suma, and Sara Zarr. Worth noting: I decided to alphabetize those authors so as not to appear to favor my own clients, but mine ended up coming first anyway!

In any case, lots of great stuff to check out over there. And since I wrote about how to write a great query letter and made quick note of how you obviously need to address your submission to the correct person, I’d like to offer a brief rundown of how the queries I received were addressed today:

Dear Mr. Maccarty, (close!)

“Dear James,” (not even my mother calls me James)

“Dear Sir/Madam,” (hedging your bets, don’t want to assume I prefer one over the other—I get it)

“Dear Sir,” (well, it’s an improvement)

“To whom it may concern,” (well, that’s definitely not me in this case)

“Dear Ms. Rennert,” (I’ll bet you a million dollars I know who else got queried)

And my personal favorite: “Dear Mr./Ms. Agent’s Last Name,”

26

Those overrated books

So, last week I found a piece on Slate about books that people read because they were highly recommended by a teacher or a loved one or a friend and which were found to be incredibly disappointing.  This made me think word of mouth is traditionally a very good way of getting people to read, but how many times do books that come highly touted disappoint us?

I, for one, have been disappointed by some huge bestsellers in recent years.  Maybe it was the hype, which is usually over the top, and maybe it was actually the book itself.  I remember being away on a Christmas vacation when it seemed that everyone in the resort I was staying at was reading The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen.  And so was I.  The book was discussed and discussed some more by perfect strangers; most loved it, but I remember thinking when I came to the end, “why did I bother?”  It was so incredibly depressing. To me this was a big disappointment.

Then there was The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski.  Initially, I really liked the premise, but the book didn’t know when to stop; ultimately, despite its huge advance and huge success, I simply didn’t “get it.”

And, finally, Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann which every single one of our staff absolutely loved.  I tried; I really, really did.  And I understand what McCann was doing.  But in the end, it just didn’t resonate and I think, as a result, I was more disappointed with myself than I was with the novel.

So I wonder, what recent bestsellers have you been disappointed in?  And what about those classics that we all had to read as kids—did any of those knock your socks off?

6

Where I’ve been

When I came across the review for Evan Hughes’ Literary Brooklyn in the New York Times the other day, I jumped to read it. Despite that this was the first I’d heard of this book, the title alone was enough for me to get interested. While many of the authors discussed in Literary Brooklyn and this article never once have set a story there, their writing lives were still enmeshed in the distinctive borough. Of course, there are the mainstays in literature—both contemporary and historical—that would be entirely different stories if they took place anywhere else.

There’s more to my excitement about this book than pure literary interest in the lives and writings of good authors. Had Literary Brooklyn been written three years ago, I would have cared far less, but because I now call Brooklyn home, the connection to place has obviously been strengthened. I reread A Tree Grows in Brooklyn several months ago for the first time since my teens and marveled at my newfound ability to picture the streets Francie Nolan grew up around (albeit in a very different context and time). While an unfamiliarity with a book’s setting hardly detracts from one’s enjoyment of it, there’s a certain thrill and delight that arises from reading the names of places—specific streets or shops—that before had been common and everyday.

I’m hardly alone in this sentiment. It’s why books about specific states, towns or regions sell far better in those places than they do anywhere else. In the past, I’ve chosen to read books that I wouldn’t normally have been jumping out of my chair to get at simply because they took place near to my hometown, or later, in and around cities I’d lived in. The more localized the better. This connection to the author as well as anyone else who has or will read the book, though it only exists in my mind, heightens immensely my enjoyment of whatever the story may be.

I feel that this is true for everyone and I wonder how much being able to exclaim, “Oh! I know where that is!” affects literary judgment. It certainly helps local promotion for the book itself if the publisher and author can ground it firmly in a specific area. This sentimental attachment to place, no matter how many people can claim it, is a big attractor. I am clearly affected and am interested to know whether you are as well. Are there books you have read that you know you’ve enjoyed more simply because you were able to indentify with place?

15

Do you ever get tired of reading?

I was on the phone with one of my sisters lately, talking about something or other I was reading, and she asked me a question that I just don’t think about that often: “Don’t you ever get tired of reading?”

My response? “Of course not! Well, I mean…sometimes. But only the bad stuff. I mean, not REALLY tired, but sometimes you need a break. But I pretty much love it.” Or something to that effect.

Let me try to answer slightly more eloquently now.

I don’t actually get tired of reading in general. That’s like getting tired of eating or watching reality television! Sometimes though, sure, reading can become a bit of a chore.

When it’s Thursday night, and you just want to eat Thai food and watch Project Runway, but you look at your Kindle and see 17 manuscripts waiting to be read, it can be kind of a bummer. And sometimes when you’re reading the third draft of something and still can’t put your finger on exactly how to direct an author to solve a problem, it can be frustrating.

As I’m sure everyone realizes, nothing about writing (or agenting or editing) is an exact science. When that unknowable factor starts to needle me, it’s usually time to put down the manuscript and refocus.

Over the past (mumble) years I’ve been here, I’ve found that the best way to keep a fresh eye on the manuscripts I’m reading is to make sure that I’m regularly reading published books. I try to read a book a week (some months go better than others) because when I don’t I find that I lose perspective a bit. Reading published books clears my mind and lets me go back to new material feeling a bit refreshed. It keeps me from always reading as though I’m looking to find problems in material which is often unproductive. I’d rather simply read, and then let problems uncover themselves if that makes any sense.

In the long run, I’ve always felt best about editing material when I’ve just finished something I loved.

Does the same hold true for you, dear readers? Do you write best when you make sure to read things you love regularly? Or is the flip side true that if you get stuck in the writing of something, the best thing to do is try to work on something different to clear your system a bit?

7

Can’t not know.

Reaching the highest echelons of personal fulfillment, as the assistant manager of a retail establishment, it often fell to me to check the bags of departing employees to ensure that everyone was leaving work sans stolen materials. While I have never had cause to question unpurchased items in anyone’s possession, and never really expected to, no one left the store without also showing me any books they happen to by carrying around with them.

After a while, I never had to even ask—protocol required that when Rachel checked you out of the store, you also had to show her the books in your bag, because she’s going to want to know. It doesn’t matter if it’s the same one as yesterday or last week or last month, she’ll want to know regardless.

I don’t really think that this curiosity is at all specific to me, but it is an interesting one. On the train or walking along the street, I never feel the need to inspect the stores or brands on peoples’ shopping bags or wonder about the food they’ve chosen to eat or any other personal preference. I go out of my way, however, to get a look at the title of the book anyone may be reading. I know I’m not the only one—I often catch people craning or twisting in odd positions to get a glimpse at the front cover of my reading material as well. Usually, I just lift the book up higher to make it easier for whoever is interested

With people you know, like my co-workers at the store, invasive book snooping is a way to get to know them better and to spark conversation. That makes sense—reading preference tells a lot about a person, far more than any other taste, I believe. Reading takes more work and focus than watching a movie or listening to an album, and so what one actually chooses to read must mean something.

But why does it matter what complete strangers have open in front of them? Why does anyone who has any literary interest at all care what someone else they have never seen before and will never see again has chosen to read on this particular day? Is it for comparison? I know I feel a kinship with anyone I see reading a favorite of mine, but rarely do I ever actually strike up conversation with them all the same. I could, I suppose, and then we would say that this need to know is a basic human instinct for interaction and communication with our fellow members of society, but I don’t know that this is true. I know I also love it when I see someone who so perfectly fits one “type” reading a book or magazine or journal that is so stereotypically opposite from what their outward appearance would portend. Is it then just for personal amusement?

While I don’t know why I care or why anyone else does either, I know that it bothers me to no end when no amount of craning or contortions will let me see what another is reading and that this doesn’t apply to any other personal affectation. Do you have any insights? Have you ever had a great conversation with a stranger based solely on what one of you was reading in a public place?

Also, on your way out the door, please remember to take your book out with the cover and title clear so I can see.

6

Spoiler alert!

I have these two friends.  We’ll call them…Jack and Jill.  They did not fall down a hill, but they did have a falling out.  A falling out about spoilers.  You see, several Top Chef seasons ago, the day after the finale, Jack posted his disappointment at the outcome on Facebook.  It’s hard to imagine anyone other than the winner and his parents actually wanted him to win that one, and Jack’s disappointment was understandable.  But Jill was furious.  She hadn’t watched yet, and now Jack had ruined something she’d been excited about.  Jack apologized, but Jill was having none of it.  I’ll admit, I too had planned to watch it that evening and didn’t bother, knowing the outcome.  Unlike Jill, I didn’t feel Jack was in serious breach of the unspoken codes of civilized society, but I felt her pain and wished he’s restrained himself.

It turns out, though, that even though we think we hate spoilers, we don’t.  According to a UC San Diego study that’s been much written about this week, including at Ars Technica, we actually enjoy things more when we’ve been spoiled.  I initially found that surprising, since I’m the sort of person who rarely bothers to read or watch something if I know the twist ending or surprise reveal.  I think it’s a product of my high school AP English class, which trained my brain to believe it’s more important to know what happens and why and what it means than to read the book.  For test prep, we each regularly read and reported to the class on a different book, covering by the end of the year the entire spectrum of classics that might find themselves on the exam.  It was an intelligent and highly effective way to teach to the test, and knowing such a wide swathe of the literary canon well if not intimately has been a valuable tool in my arsenal as both an English major and publishing professional.  The unfortunate side effect has been that I don’t necessarily feel obligated to read things that I already know a lot about, which is of course missing the point when there’s no exam on the line.  In life, as opposed to AP English, the experience of reading a book is far more valuable than knowing what happens in many books you haven’t read.  I’ve got context, but I’ve cheated myself out of enjoyment and genuine edification.

When I do manage to go in unspoiled, I actually tend to ruin for myself the pleasure of twist endings anyway, determined to figure out before the author wants me to what’s actually going on.  As Jonah Lehrer says in the piece linked above, “The human mind is a prediction machine, which means that it registers most surprises as a cognitive failure, a mental mistake.”  I definitely feel that way, on a conscious level, when I don’t figure out what’s going on before I’m told.  On the one hand, it’s the mark of a successful story, and I always applaud the author for pulling it off, even on a reader like me who insists upon trying to best them on each page.  And on the other, I do always ever so slightly feel disappointed in myself for losing that fight.  Perhaps that does mean that if I read all the things for which I was spoiled, I’d actually enjoy them more!  Maybe, like Lehrer, I should just start reading the last few pages on everything, so I can go with the flow and stop trying to win a nonexistent competition.

For what it’s worth, my second favorite observation in the Ars Technica piece is: “Every genre is a kind of spoiler.”  Meaning that when we watch or read something, we know what to expect to a certain extent based on what it is.  The hero’s going to get the girl.  The world will be saved from destruction.  The enemy will be defeated.  Unless we’re watching something where the twist is the name of the game or the whole point might be a miserable ending, we have a certain expectation, and movies and books usually give us the ending we want.  I’ve never thought of it that way, but it’s a pretty interesting thought.

What about the rest of you?  Do you prefer your entertainment to be a spoiler-free zone, or do you “cheat” and sneak a peek at the ending (or the numerous websites providing the answer)?