The chief reward of any artistic effort (and perhaps of every other effort as well) is the work itself. Success lies in the accomplishment, not in its fruits. If I write well, I’m a success. Wealth and fame might be fun (or they might not) but they’re largely beside the point.
—Lawrence Block, in Telling Lies for Fun & Profit
I am a big fan of Lawrence Block, of both his fiction and his books on writing.
When I first read the above quote, I was very enthusiastic about it. Because it told me that what I write has value in and of itself — if done well — regardless of the fruit that may or may not come of it.
Block’s statement, “If I write well, I’m a success,” resonated with me. Why? Because I wanted to believe it.
However, that statement was made by a man who is in fact a monetarily successful (millionaire), peer acclaimed, and much admired writer. According to his own statement, Mr. Block has always made his living by his typewriter or keyboard.
When I pondered that fact, the steam went out of my enthusiasm for his sentiments.
Years ago, when I was writing poetry and having lots of it published, I had a discussion with the late Jane Reichhold, who was a big name in English language Japanese-style poetry. The discussion had to do with this very subject of success.
Rainer Maria Rilke, in his first letter to the young poet, made the same argument that Mr. Block made. That success lies in writing well. I mentioned this to Jane, and then added, “But Rilke was a published and successful poet.” And her reply was: “There you have it.”
It is easy for the successful (in the eyes of the world and the bank) to tell the rest of us that success lies in doing something well. That “The chief reward of any artistic effort… is the work itself.” Written, I’m sure, while Mr. Block was cashing his royalty checks at the bank.
Now, I don’t wish to take anything away from Mr. Block, because he’s an author I very much like and admire, and who has given me many hours of pleasure and much valuable advice. But that is exactly my point: he has legions of followers and admirers. When the tree falls in his woods, there are many, very many, who hear it.
When the tree falls in my woods, who hears it? Considerably fewer than in Mr. Block’s woods — or Rilke’s, for that matter.
I’m not saying it’s all about the money, or the awards — because I don’t think it is. Those are merely the results of something else. Namely, recognition. Admiration.
When Aeschylus staged his plays, was he actually after the prize? Or was the prize merely the totem signifying the judges’ and audience’s recognition of the greatness of his writing? I’d hazard a guess it was the latter.
In The Birth of Tragedy, Nietzsche posits that the only thing that can save us, once we’ve peered into the abyss, is Art. Art being a symbol of that creative force that distinguishes gods from men. Gods create, and then look upon their creation and pronounce it good, or not (think the Flood).
As a writer, when I complete a work of fiction, I say the same thing: it is good (or not).
And while salvation, according to Nietzsche, lies in Art, I can’t help but wonder if he forgot that all gods want adulation — they demand worshippers.
If the god outside of me is dead, because I’ve become God — then don’t I, too, need worshippers as do all the gods? And if I don’t have them, don’t I become dead as well?
The Star Trek episode “Who Mourns for Adonais?” explored this theme, and the conclusion was that gods do indeed need worshippers in order to be gods.
Therefore, as a creative, is my work its own reward? Or does it need admirers? Do I need admirers? Does a tree falling in the woods make any sound if there’s no one there to hear it? What is the sound of one hand clapping?
I have no answer at this point. I want to believe Mr. Block’s statement and that of Rainer Maria Rilke before him. However, I can’t help but think that the writers of “Who Mourns for Adonais?” got it right.
Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!
As readers we all know that when we pick up a novel or a short story, it’s a work of fiction. Something someone made up in order to entertain us.
In other words, we know it’s a story but choose to disregard that knowledge, and instead pretend it’s real.
Lawrence Block posited an interesting thought in his book Telling Lies for Fun & Profit:
But first is it not essential that the writer suspend his own disbelief? He more than anyone knows it’s just a story… To the extent that he visualizes it first, to the extent that he has the experience of his fiction himself before he puts it on paper for someone else, his work acquires an essential reality in his own eyes. He suspends his own disbelief and makes it easier for the reader to go and do likewise.
I hadn’t thought about suspension of disbelief this way before, but I’d have to say Block is on target.
When I think about my own stories and novels, they do indeed acquire an essential reality. The characters become alive and their story becomes real.
I know objectively that Pierce Mostyn and the OUP, Tina and Harry, Bill Arthur and the world of Rocheport, aren’t real. Yet, they are very much real to me. They have lives of their own, and I’m privileged to share their lives on occasion.
The more real my characters are to me, the more I transfer that reality to my writing, which in turn transfers that reality to the reader.
I can’t help but wonder if the books I read that I find boring and fail to enable me to suspend disbelief, are the ones that, in Anthony Trollope’s words, were written by writers telling a story, instead of having a story to tell?
In the first instance, a writer tells the story because he feels he has to. Maybe he needs to pay the rent. In the second, he has a story and it’s so amazing he just has to tell someone. The first is a case of manufacturing a story and selling it to the reader. The second is a case of receiving a story, as it were, and telling it.
When a story has captured a writer to such a degree that he has to tell it, that’s when I think the writer has suspended his own disbelief and thereby enables us to suspend ours.
Of course, subject matter, genre, the writer’s skill, the writer’s style, all come in to play and impact suspension of disbelief. There are some writers who I just can’t stand, yet others love their writing. It’s the beauty in the eye of the beholder thing.
Nevertheless, I’ve read books where the writer truly needed to hire a proofreader. Yet, I read on in spite of the textual interruptions, because the writer told his story so well. My suspension of disbelief weathered the interruptions.
Lawrence Block’s observation is something to think about, and one we writers need to take seriously.
If the story we are writing is just a story, how can we ask our readers to treat it as anything else? They may enjoy it, but will they remember it? Will they even finish reading it?
But if our story is reality to us, then there’s a much greater chance our readers will be suspending their disbelief right along with us.
Tucson has the most wonderful used bookstore. It’s called Bookmans, and this privately owned company is amazing. It’s a used book superstore.
In fact Bookmans is an Arizona treasure, with 3 locations in Tucson, 2 in Flagstaff, and 1 each in Phoenix and Mesa. The company’s been in business since 1976. Check them out at bookmans.com!
The other week I was visiting my dad who lives in Tucson, and set aside one morning to go to Bookmans. Of course I came away with some exciting new gems to add to the library.
The Mad King by Edgar Rice Burroughs
I like Burroughs. He knew how to write a rousing adventure yarn. In fact, he was the model many editors pointed to when advising new writers on how to write.
The Mad King is new to me and I’m looking forward to the read.
Prisoner’s Base and The Black Mountain by Rex Stout
I love the Nero Wolfe series by Rex Stout. In fact, the books are among the very few I re-read. Once upon a time I had the entire series. Today I’m in the process of rebuilding my collection. These two are very welcome. Very welcome indeed!
The Lost Wagon Train by Zane Grey
When a kid, I used to watch Westerns on TV. Shows such as Gunsmoke, Wagon Train, Bonanza, The Lone Ranger, Have Gun — Will Travel, and many others. But I didn’t read Westerns until recently.
Zane Grey is still considered one of the kings among Western writers. So I added this one to my growing Western collection.
The Girl with the Deep Blue Eyes by Lawrence Block
Lawrence Block is an incredibly amazing and versatile writer. I very much like his fiction, and his books for writers are nonpareil. Block can entertain you like few others, and teach you everything you need to know about the writing game. Block delivers, so this one I added to my collection and have already started reading it.
Those were my Bookmans “purchases”. I put that in quotes because that day was my very lucky day. I was one of two winners to get my books for free! How can you not love a bookstore that gives away books?
Reading is the best entertainment. Books are portable storytellers who are always with you. I have many hundreds of physical books and over a thousand on my iPad. Plenty of stories to take me to places and times I could never visit in person.
To me, the person who does not read fiction can only experience the here and now. And as wonderful as that can be, it’s a life devoid of imagination — and that’s only half a life.
Comments are always welcome! And until next time — happy reading!
A writing guru whose mailing list I’m on is always advising us writers to sell the read, not the book. And that’s ultimately what we are all trying to do. Some of us just do so better than the rest of us.
As a reader, that is, of course, exactly what I want to know: where will I be going, what will I be experiencing, feeling, doing as the result of reading this book. The book I’m considering buying, or the one I bought and am considering reading.
I read fiction primarily for entertainment. If I learn something new along the way, or am given cause to stop and think for a moment — extra kudos go to the writer.
For me, reading is no different than watching TV, or a movie, or playing a video game. Except my imagination is doing the work, instead of someone else’s — and that’s what makes reading, IMO, the better form of entertainment. Even the best form. Reading is active. Videos, in all forms, are passive. And active is good. Stretching those imagination muscles is good. It’s why reading is my favorite form of entertainment.
The other day I was reading Lawrence Block’s introduction to one of the editions of Black Orchids, the ninth Nero Wolfe mystery, by Rex Stout.
Block’s observation as to why we reread the Nero Wolfe mysteries is enlightening, and I think a vital key as to why some of us really get into books. Block wrote:
I know several men and women who are forever rereading the Nero Wolfe canon. …
They do this not for the plots, which are serviceable, nor for the suspense, which is a good deal short of hair-trigger even on first reading. Nor, I shouldn’t think, are they hoping for fresh insight into the human condition. No, those of us who reread Rex Stout do so for the pure joy of spending a few hours in the most congenial household in American letters, and in the always engaging company of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin.
… we know these two, and it is a joy to see them simply being themselves.
What Block wrote describes to a T why I thoroughly enjoy rereading the Nero Wolfe mysteries. Stout wrote in such a way that we are the fly on the wall observing the goings on in that delightful brownstone.
I’d go one step further than Mr Block: any book I read is for the characters. I don’t read for the plot. One reason, I suppose, why I enjoy plotless novels. I also don’t read for the suspense, which I prefer rather low key. And I’m old enough that I probably won’t learn anything new about the human condition.
I read for the characters — pure and simple. The experience of meeting new and interesting people.
If a writer can deliver the goods, characters I can fall in love with, then he has me hook, line, and sinker. I don’t care what else is in, or not in, the book.
Unfortunately, this does not occur all that often. Most writers seem obsessed with the plot. They are too busy counting plot points or beats, writing a detailed outline, following the Hero’s Quest, or whatever other nonsense is being pushed by the writing guru of the moment.
Most writers fail to heed Bradbury’s Dictum: create your characters, let them do their thing, and there’s your story.
Fiction is not about the plot — it’s about the characters. The characters are the ones who pull us into the settings, the time period, the world they inhabit.
I cannot recall one book where I walked away remembering the plot and not the characters. Not a single one.
At base, plots are simple. There are at most just a handful of stories. They are mundane at best. But characters, like people, are complex. Everyone has an outer life and an inner life. Good characters are no different.
Which is more interesting? Tarzan, or the plot of a Tarzan novel? Dirk Pitt, or the plot of a Dirk Pitt novel? Sherlock Holmes, or the plot of a Sherlock Holmes story?
Many of us would like to get into a spaceship and fly off to other worlds. I don’t remember a single plot in Eric Frank Russell’s Men, Martians, and Machines. But I do remember the chess playing octopoid Martians, and the android Jay Score.
Good characters pull us into their world. We become one with them and experience what they experience. This is because the writer can’t give us everything. He can only suggest, and once he does our imaginations take over and do the rest.
This is not the case with even a good movie or TV episode. That’s because we’re passive. Everything is fed to us. We can only react. We are limited to what’s on the screen — which is why special effects are becoming increasingly important.
However, my imagination can do what special effects will never be able to do. My imagination is mine and makes the story live for me. Special effects are general. They target everyone, and in the end that means they shoot for the lowest common denominator. My imagination produces special effects tailored for me.
The secret to a good book lies in the characters. They make any old plot shine. Because it’s the characters who make the plot come alive. Create the characters, let them do their thing — and there is the story.
As a reader, I appreciate the wonderful characters good writers create.
As a writer, I appreciate the readers who fall in love with my characters.
Some fictional universes are just places you want to be, and I have been so moved by the world CW Hawes has created for private detective Justinia Wright and her brother, Harry. … I would drop by their house any time, if only for a glass of Madeira.
Tina and Harry’s home will never top that of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. However, I will be very satisfied if I’m granted second place.
Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!
Sherlock Holmes-one of the most memorable characters in fiction.
The other day fellow author Jack Tyler posted on his blog advice to writers: it’s the characters.
Characters do indeed make the story. But much more accurately, characters are the story. Think about a novel. Any novel. What do you remember about it? Or a movie or TV series. Any movie or TV series. What do you remember? The plots? Or the characters? Unless it’s The Twilight Zone, it’s the characters you remember. Dorothy. Columbo. Proxy Snyder on Colony. Scarlett and Rhett. Nero Wolfe. Scrooge. Sherlock Holmes.
Generally speaking, we readers read a novel or short story for the characters. People we can relate to who are in a crisis. There is a certain vicarious experience we go through when we read a work of fiction and identify with the hero or heroine. Their struggle becomes our struggle. Their win, our win.
Even in that most well-worn of story forms, the Hero’s Quest, the calamities and the setting and the nature of the obstacles to be surmounted may change, but in the end what we read the story for is not the plot. We already know the plot. It’s the characters. The hero. We read the Hero’s Quest for the hero. His (or her) journey becomes our journey.
The Hobbit is Bilbo’s story. Sure it’s an adventure tale. And we like adventure tales. But what makes The Hobbit unique is Bilbo Baggins. Not the world in which Bilbo lives. That is window dressing. Bilbo makes The Hobbit what it is. Not the orcs, not Gandalf, not the elves, not Middle Earth.
We don’t read the Hero’s Quest for the story. We know the story. We read the Hero’s Quest for the Hero (or Heroine). Is he someone we can relate to? Is the hero us? If he is, we read. If he isn’t, we put the book aside and pick up another. And this applies to any other book or story that we find memorable.
Anthony Trollope, a master at creating believable characters, told future writers what he believed to be the secret of successful fiction. Here is his advice (from his Autobiography):
“A novel should give a picture of common life enlivened by humour and sweetened by pathos. To make that picture worthy of attention, the canvas should be crowded with real portraits, not of individuals known to the world or to the author, but of created personages impregnated with traits of character which are known. To my thinking, the plot is but the vehicle for all this; and when you have the vehicle without the passengers, a story of mystery in which the agents never spring to life, you have but a wooden show.”
As Trollope advised: “…when you have the vehicle without the passengers…you have but a wooden show.”
And sad to say, there are a lot of wooden shows out there. Part of the reason we readers must endure these wooden shows is due to writers who write commercial fiction and don’t have the ability to rise above their formulas. These writers, hoping to earn enough with their keyboards to quit the day job, quite often have no idea how to tell a story. They simply follow the plot beats on the chart. If they didn’t have that chart they wouldn’t have a clue as to what comes next in the story.
As a reader, one of the reasons I steer clear of today’s most popular genres (at least for the most part) is because those genres are filled with the works of hacks who provide nothing but a wooden show. Many of these writers are only interested in the dollar. They are in a gold rush, looking to get rich quick.
Of course one hopes they will learn the craft sufficiently to rise above the wooden show. But to do so, they need to write. Not write to make a buck. Just write. And by writing, learn.
Now I’m not averse to money. I think virtually all writers would like to earn a significant chunk of change from their writing. Me included. Shoot, even Shakespeare wrote for money. But there is a difference between simply writing for money and writing because you just have to tell a story.
Lawrence Block wrote over a hundred trash novels in the ‘50s and into the ‘60s. They were what he cut his writing teeth on. Many of them are being republished now.
I remember him writing somewhere that maybe he stayed too long writing those trash novels. But when he stopped and started writing “the good stuff”, he knocked the ball out of the park. Evan Tanner. Bernie Rhodenbarr. Matt Scudder. Ehrengraff. Just a few of the many memorable characters he created. Block cut his writing teeth by writing. Not by hiring beta readers, or editors, or submitting his work to creative writing workshops. He wrote and improved his craft.
Too many writers today want instant glory. They are mostly young, and grew up being pampered in school. Everyone’s a winner. Hogwash. The real world says otherwise.
One young woman in a closed Facebook group said she uses editors because she doesn’t want to risk losing readers. What? How is an editor going to make something unreadable readable? He/She can’t unless he or she becomes a co-author.
These writers are afraid of failure, so they are doing whatever they can to avert it. Failure, however, is part of life. Letting one’s readers tell you your book is crap, is a tremendous learning experience. In the days before Kindle, editors did that at magazines and publishing houses. Today, for indie authors, the reader takes the place of the editor. Most of today’s young writers don’t understand that.
If you writers want to write for a living, write. Write lots. Publish whatever you can. Let your readers tell you what works and doesn’t work. After all, they are the ones you are writing for. They are the ones who will buy your books.
Of course we readers share in the blame when it comes to mediocre formulaic writing, peopled with lackluster and wooden characters. We share in the blame because we tolerate such writing. We do so because we are either ignorant of quality writing, or we simply don’t care.
If we readers don’t care, then writers won’t either. They’ll shovel whatever crap or swill they can our way — just as long as we buy it and help them quit the day job.
This reader, however, as Popeye said, Can’t Stands No More!
I’ve been so disappointed with the current crop of writers who are award winners and New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestsellers — that I no longer even look at the book if it has one of those tags on it. We readers have let the mediocre rise to the top.
What I do instead, is search history’s dustbin for those forgotten treasures from the past. Many are free because they are no longer under copyright, or can be found very cheap on the used market.
I’ve also started looking for the hidden gems on Amazon. Those books that have never found their way into the top million. Yes, that is million. I’ve found fabulous, character-rich reads in many of those books. I’m doing my best to get the word out on those hidden treasures. Aargh, matey! There be buried treasure here!
Every week I post a Book of the Week on my Facebook page. Do make a point to check it out. However, because money hungry Zuckerberg has monetized pages, not all of my 105 followers see my posts. At most 25 do. If I want them all to see the posts, I have to give the Z man $5 to boost the post. So do make a point to check out the Book of the Week each Monday. Good reads are there to be found.
This week’s Book of the Week is Tales of Horror by Bryan C Laesch. A superb trio of monster stories. Give it a read. You won’t be sorry.
Past Book of the Week authors are Dusty Sharp, Zara Altair, Simon Osborne, Jacquie Rogers, and Andy Graham. Writers guaranteed to bring you a respite from your day, or just plain give you a good time.
Characters are fiction. If, my dear fellow readers, you’ve been caught up in the thriller hype. You know, the pages-turn-themselves kind of crap, where the writer simply piles on more and more problems — usually paying little attention to character development. If you’ve been sucked into the fast is better mentality, take some time to experience character-driven fiction.
While character-driven fiction may be slower than the hyperdrive thriller, it doesn’t have to be and often isn’t. Tom Clancy’s novels don’t lack for character — or action.
The plot-driven stuff is fine if you just want a snack. If, however, you want the full-meal deal, you need books with fabulous characters. Because they are like Tootsie Rolls: they last a long time.
Comments are always welcome. And until next time, happy reading!
