Recent posts

Why It’s Important to Read Crappy Books

I’ve been ignoring my blog (and my job, and family, and dog) in favor of holing up in my office and finishing final copy-edits and cover designs for my upcoming story, RAZORS and RUST (releasing this Saturday, June 9th!!!). But a man can only focus on publishing shenanigans for so long. Sometimes you have to call a time-out, grab a good book, a bottle glass of Scotch, some left-over pizza and relax.

Of course, this is easier if the book is good.

Often, it’s not.

I don’t know what it is, exactly—maybe the God of Books (Um…J.K Rowling?) is cross with me—but I’ve been having a hell of a time finding anything worthwhile on the shelves. It reached a head, finally, when I picked up a tome by a well-known author, someone I’ve admired for years, and read about half the book before throwing it against the wall. I could be heard yelling the following: “What the EFF!? This is crap. My four-year-old can write better than this!” (Well…maybe not. But she does paint a mean Beauty and the Beast).

The characters were cardboard, the setting hollow, and the plot limp as overcooked linguine. I was pissed, because the author knew better. I mean, I take writing advice from this guy! Still, even as I fumed I realized there were lessons here. Morals to uncover. Knowledge to glean.

I needed this crappy book—and so do you.

Here’s why:

This book is soooooooo boring

Sometimes we learn best by sticking our finger in the socket (That’s how Benjamin Franklin invented electricity. True story). You can sit in class and listen to a lecture on pacing, or you can pick up the latest John Grisham and pile through that turd. I know, it’s rough. It’s boring. NOTHING HAPPENS! But there are nuggets of gold in them there hills (or…uh, pages. It works).

Pacing takes practice, and you can’t learn in a vacuum. You can learn from the masters (George RR Martin, Roger Zelazny, The God of Books), which is fun, but sometimes you have to stick your finger in that socket and buy some good, old-fashioned, manure.

Sometimes it takes something stinky to make the flowers grow (I probably should have ended the analogy at “manure”).

Why won’t this character die already??? 

Writers take a lot of time developing their characters (At least they should), but sometimes they mistake “developing,” with “loving,” and that’s when we have a problem.

A writer should never love a character so much they refuse to kill them.

What’s not to love?

We’re all guilty of this, we all have a soft spot in our hearts for our “Dobby.” But hey, you know what? The reader really, really hates that guy. All your beta-readers told you, and yet you kept him in the story, ignoring the pleas of your audience to “JUST KILL JAR-JAR BINKS ALREADY!”

Don’t be that writer. You know the characters you hate…now grow a little self-awareness and kill the ones you love.

-Everyone’s talking like a freaking idiot

“Why don’t they use contractions, like, ever? Come on, nobody actually says ‘inundate.’ The wording. Is so. Stilted.”

I know. But the best way to write gripping dialog is to read crappy dialog first.

I had a writing teacher who told me the best way to write dialog was to sit in a corner somewhere and observe actual people talking. Then write down the conversation and study it. Then throw that s@%t away, because nobody wants to read an actual conversation.

“Uh…I don’t know. Um…yeah.”

“Dude, I seriously don’t know, like, um…well, you know how that one time we went to the theater? Um…yeah?”

I exaggerate (kind of), but you see my point? Study the dialog in that novel you threw against the wall. Learn what to avoid.

-You call that an ending?

Sometimes a novel has a lot of promise. Great characters, imaginative world, compelling mystery…but no payoff (I’m looking at you, “The Dark Tower”). These elicit a good wall throwing more than any other book I read, because the author had me going. They tricked me! I was in for a penny, in for a pound (whatever that means), and I got nothing for it.

I read seven books for THAT!?

Curse you, Stephen King!

Don’t confuse this with leaving your audience wanting more. That’s a good thing. Leaving your audience staring at the last page wondering if you just gave up in the homestretch, that’s a bad thing. If you don’t know where your book it going, don’t write “The End.”

Unless you’re Stephen King. That man’s a national treasure.

******************************************************************************************

Image credits;
Books are for Reading” Creative Commons via Andrew Hefter
Dobby” Creative Commons via Bananawacky
Streeter Seidell, Comedian” Creative Commons via Zach Klein
Advertisements
About nicwidhalm (46 Articles)
Nic Widhalm is a writer based out of Northern, Colorado, specializing in urban fantasy, and supernatural horror. He is happily married, has two beautiful, feisty kids, and spends his free time singing and providing vocal percussion for the professional a cappella group, Curious Gage. Visit www.curiousgage.com for more information.

3 Comments on Why It’s Important to Read Crappy Books

  1. A very witty post, as ever. The problem is wading through the crap books! If I hate it, I don’t read it (I didn’t get past chapter 3 of the first Harry Potter book). I wonder how much you can learn in the first few pages…!

    • I feel you on the first Harry Potter Book (and the second). But I maintain there’s plenty to learn from the first chapter of a book you hate. Even if it’s only that you’re going to wait for the movie 😉

      • I ended up giving up on the movies as well, once I realised that it was impossible to understand what was really going on without having read the books. Maybe one day I’ll catch up on them!

        You’re right, you can learn a lot from the first chapter. I’ve also learnt a lot from books that I’ve enjoyed reading as brain candy even though I knew they were “not that great” (I’m looking at the Percy Jackson books here!).

1 Trackback / Pingback

  1. When Do You Know You’re a Writer? « Nic Widhalm is Mad

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: