What better way to kick off my first blog than to share the ten things I love and hate about reading and writing. Fellow writer Crispian Thurlborn at https://wyldwoodbooks.wordpress.com gave me the idea – or rather tagged me, so I had no choice – but when Crispian drags me into doing one of these (while I'm hurling obscenities no less) he has a way of inspiring my creativity. (If you don't believe me, check out the last time: http://on.fb.me/1Nr5UEL.) Maybe I just love his writing style, or that he has awesome taste in music, or that he's a self-proclaimed wanderer. Whatever it is, here's my latest:
As a reader, I love when:
You open your book and un-crease the dog-eared <gasp> page. There may even be a sigh and some butt-wiggling to get more comfy. For eReaders, it's that moment when you press the on-button and the screen comes to life.
You come across a sentence so effortless, so concise, and so full of meaning that its perfection deserves to be highlighted, shared, and shouted from rooftops. If you must know, how many sentences I highlight on my Kindle seems to be directly proportional to how 'stalkerish' I get with those authors. (Shh. Just don't tell anyone.)
You get to the last page of a novel and want to start all over again.
You remember a scene from a favorite book, and you crave to reread it, no matter how late at night it is. Sure, you have to thumb through and find it, but that's what getting lost on purpose is all about, isn't it?
A surprising twist makes you read so fast you reread that section for fear of missing something. Then you reread it once more because not to would be a travesty.
As a writer, I love when:
You find that perfect word, dug out from the depths of your own aging brain, and pat yourself on the back. Then you throw away the coupon for gingko biloba. (Pfft. Alzheimer's Schmalzheimer's.)
You rearrange a wordy sentence during revisions and are elated to find a much more concise way to say the same--SCRATCH THAT! You've created a more concise sentence during revisions. Woohoo!
You laugh or cry over what's about to happen to your characters – before you even finish writing your sentence.
You're going about your daily life, and the perfect idea or solution for layering your story with more writerly goodness pops into your thoughts.
You agonize over killing your gems – deleting what you thought was crucial – but find your story rocks without it.
As a reader, I hate when:
You waste time calculating how many more minutes you can stay up to read that one extra chapter. That's when the bargaining begins: Hmm, let's see...if I set my alarm clock ten minutes later, I can skip washing my hair and wear a headband to work again...or I can put my makeup on while I'm eating breakfast. The bargaining just feeds my desperation and ruins what time I have left. Not fun. (Why oh why did I look at the clock?)
You're near the end of a breathtaking book – and it's well past your bedtime – so you race against the clock to finish. Why don't you just swallow that Sour Patch Kids candy without even chewing it? What's the point? Sure, I'll read the ending again the next morning, but nothing's like that first time. (Ahem...like how I snuck that life lesson in there?)
You're so excited about a new book, but after reading it, you're hard-pressed to give it three out of five stars. <cue game-show-loser sound effect> Even worse, you can't finish it.
You can't turn the writer in your head off. I can't tell you who many times a mispeled word totaly ruined a prefectly good seen for me. (You don't even have to be a writer, do you?)
You press the right margin of a physical book and expect the page to turn – and you catch yourself doing it more than once.
As a writer, I hate when:
The logic of your written argument is all over the place, and the only way for it to make sense is to rewrite the scene from scratch. For me, this realization usually happens after several attempts to 'fix' the scene as is. I will never learn.
You're editing, and you find several useless passive sentences you can't seem to convert into active ones for the life of you. I call that bedtime in my house.
You don't think you need to write down that perfect idea when it comes to you – because you'd be stupid not to remember it, right? Can you hear the writing gods laughing?
You're channeling those very writing gods, and the mere mortals around you can't see your heavenly halo warning them to shut up and stay away.
Someone stands behind you and reads what you're writing over your shoulder. Ugh. I absolutely hate that!
Well, there it is. Which one of these resonates with you the most?