Losing Our Way

I think I'll reel for a long time after what Latayne wrote on Monday: that reading a novel can leave a "shadow" in the brain that is detectable in neural scans. She's right: We did suspect all along, but to learn that the effect has been spotted by researchers! If they'd photographed angels, I'd feel hardly less wonder.

Did you ask yourself, reading this revelation, if that shadow on the brain created any noticeable effect on the reader's daily life? It turns out, there is an effect, and researchers David Comer Kidd and Emanuele Castano have noticed: People who read a certain kind of book - the kind we tend to like best here at Novel Matters - exhibit heightened powers of empathy, the ability to enter into another person's experience and emotion - not to feel for them, but with them.



But not just any book delivers the potion. You won't find it in non-fiction (surprised?) and you won't find it in every kind of fiction, either. David Comer Kidd observed, "Some writing is what you call 'writerly', you fill in the gaps and participate, and some is 'readerly', and you're entertained. We tend to see 'readerly' more in genre fiction like adventure, romance and thrillers, where the author dictates your experience as a reader. Literary* [writerly] fiction lets you go into a new environment and you have to find your own way."

It makes sense, doesn't it? A relationship with a character that forces you to "find your way" would make good practice for a real human relationship that demands the same. Another researcher, Philip Davies, took it a bit further: "The thing about novels is that they give you a view of an inner world that's not on show. Often what you learn from novels is to be a bit baffled."

None of which will simplify your life. But that may not be the point.

I'll bet you've read some books that have led you into the woods a bit - in a good way. Got any experiences to share? Please do tell. We always love to read what you have to say. 

*See that? He used the "L" word. 

I Once Tackled Dracula...

After reading Latayne’s post on Monday on how fiction imprints our brains, and we crawl into the skin of protagonists, the pieces fell together for me. I started thinking of all the books that had left a ‘shadow’ on my outlook for days at a time.  I always suspected that there was a real explanation for it.  I’m not just a lightweight about certain books after all - they really were imprinting on me.

I once tackled Dracula. Figuratively speaking, of course.  I wanted to know what made it a classic.  I stared bald-eyed for several chapters like the witness of a horrific accident who couldn’t look away until a major transition came along and I finally blinked. I promptly deleted it from my Kindle.  

Later, I picked up The Historian.  I thought I could handle it, really I could, but the impressions, the shadows latched onto my brain.  I felt such a foreboding that sat heavy on my mind and needled its way into my dreams at night. The writing was very good, the tension exquisite, and I put it back on my bookshelf, leaving a superfluous character to her fate.  She was expendable and would die to prove the gravity of the situation.  I couldn’t be a witness to it.

There is nothing that says I have to let good writing go to my head.

I have to stick with books that include some measure of hope.  Intense, unpredictable and drag you close to the edge, yes, but a flicker of hope has to be present.  They can be everyday characters with nothing to recommend them except that they showed me how to live honorably in the world, making sometimes costly, sacrificial choices in the end.  

You could argue that both Dracula and The Historian have resolutions with these elements, and since I wasn’t willing to stick it out, I don’t know.  But the overriding impression was of an evil so big that I felt it dimming my normal outlook on life and that was enough for me.  It may not have been so much for you.

I guess you just have to know yourself.

One very special, positive impression that I experienced was from The Lord of the Rings (one among many).  In this day and age we greatly prize freedom, and the knowledge we have of kings and kingdoms are often as figureheads only.  But when the young hobbits swore fealty to the kings and laid their weapons at their feet, I finally understood the Bible references to Christ and His kingdom. More than understood - I felt the absolute power of it.  It’s about choosing to give up your freedom to accept the will of Someone greater.  That impression colored my outlook for a long time and was welcome.

What books have left a memorable impression on you, for good or bad? Did you stick it out? We’d love to hear.

We suspected it all along. . .

Everyone knows that reading a novel can change history. Uncle Tom’s Cabin, for instance, “helped lay the groundwork for the American Civil War,” according to historian Will Kaufman. Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle revolutionized food safety at the beginning of the twentieth century.

Novels change history by changing minds. But did you know that reading a novel can actually physically change your brain?

As documented in the academic journal Brain Connectivity, scientists measured the brains of readers with functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI).

The non-profit site Futurity interviewed the lead scientist of the study, Gregory Burns, who had two astonishing findings.

Berns: “The neural changes that we found associated with physical sensation and movement systems suggest that reading a novel can transport you into the body of the protagonist. . . We already knew that good stories can put you in someone else’s shoes in a figurative sense. Now we’re seeing that something may also be happening biologically.”

But even more amazing, the study documented that reading a novel leaves a kind of “shadow” in the brain, as demonstrated by neural scans, that shows that for days after finishing a novel, the book keeps having a measurable physical effect on the brain.

So, novels change people, mentally and physically.

As something as insubstantial, as ephemeral, as a collection of words continues to change the brain for days afterwards.

Ah, what a revelation.

And for us as authors, what a weight of responsibility.

Happy New Year

Happy 2014!

We will be back on Monday, January 6th.

We hope you had a wonderful, relaxing, rejuvenating holiday break. We sure did, and we're coming back filled with anticipation for what the year will hold for all of us Novel Matters friends.

Party On! Novel Matters' Holiday Guest List

We're collecting our beaded chiffon evening gowns from the cleaners in preparation for the coming holiday season. Each of us has drawn up a guest list of authors--living or dead--to invite. We have our reasons for each inclusion, of course. Be sure to share who you would invite to your holiday party.

New Year's Eve is a quiet affair at the Hill house. Our farmer genes have gone into overdrive, so once the sun sets, well...But if I were to stay up long enough to welcome in 2014, here's who I would want to pass the popcorn with:

William Shakespeare. I lugged the complete works of Shakespeare around for 4 1/2 months to attend class with a dry-as-dirt professor. I imagined Will sitting at the back of the class, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. First and foremost, I believe Will was an entertainer. If people didn't come to his plays, he didn't have a job. Secondly, the man was a genius. He contextualized pressing questions within the iambic pentameter of his writing. I want to know if we go overboard sometimes with our interpretations. Now, if his naysayers are correct, and Will did not write the body of work we attribute to him, would the right and true author please RSVP immediately?

Emily Dickinson. I would be terribly shy in her presence, but once I gained her confidence with literary conversation, I would ask about her writings to the "Master." Were her steamier love poems written about him? Although a recluse, men did orbit in her sphere. Was there someone else? Yeah, you're right, I want to gossip with Emily. It is a party, right?

Steven King. Things might get a little boring, so I'll invite Steven, too. A live one. He has a lot to say about writing. A bit of a taskmaster, though. He might get us to dip our quills for a fresh start of writing for the new year. If that doesn't work, I'll ask, "Steve, could you tell us a story?" Of course, we would all stay awake to see the new year in. First, because the story would be enthralling. Second, because we would be afraid to close our eyes.

Heading my guest list would be Charles Dickens. I've been a fan for many years. I remember years ago getting a biography on Dickens, and it took me quite a while to gather the nerve to read it. My hesitation came from not wanting my image of him destroyed. Happily, I liked him even better after reading the biography. He would be an extremely entertaining guest.

Harper Lee would certainly be on my guest list. I know I've written about her before, but I would actually have two sets of questions for her. The first set would be geared toward the young Ms. Lee: what was it like to write a story like To Kill a Mockingbird as a young white woman in Alabama? What were the immediate repercussions? What, if anything, did it cost you? The second set of questions would be for the elderly Ms. Lee: At the time that you wrote Mockingbird, did you ever envision the changes that would ultimately take place in civil rights in your lifetime? And why, oh, why, did you not continue to publish your writing? I know I'd not be the only one to sit at her feet and listen to her answers.

And difficult as it is to narrow the list, I'd invite Suzanne Collins to talk about her amazing series, The Hunger Games. I'd like to ask about the inspiration for the novel series, and whether she's ever second-guessed herself regarding the love triangle between Katniss, Gale and Peeta.

William Shakespeare. I’d invite him too and share him with Patti. For one thing, I’d like to know if all that we attribute to him came out of his brain. Then I’d probably swoon and need to be resuscitated.

Charles Spurgeon. I have spent years of my life telling God “thank you” for this man’s incredible scholarship and insights. I’ve been reading The Treasury of David for over a decade, in fact. I can’t believe how much is crammed into that book. And if I could meet Spurgeon, I would wait on him hand and foot for the entire evening. The stories I’ve read of the depression he suffered during his last years breaks my heart, and I would love to make it up to him.

William Faulkner. I want to be him when I grow up as a writer. Sheer genius, and I’d tell him so and then leave him alone, which is what I think he’d want.

Corrie Ten Boom. I actually met her before she departed this life. But I’d like to sit quietly with her and let her tell me stories of her life.

Joyce Carol Oates. She’s still living, so I guess she might actually accept my invitation. (In my dreams.) She is brilliant and prolific in many genres. After I read Black Water, I thought she was the bravest novelist I had ever read.

Agatha Christie. A woman who loved both Egyptology and mysteries!  My kind of woman. And I’d want to know where she was during those 10 days in 1926.

Bonnie, Debbie, Katie, Patti, and Sharon. Truly, I would love to sit down with the most true-hearted writers God ever created. 

Latayne, I so agree. You all top my list!! One of these days we'll all be together again!

Anne Rice. I am currently reading her memoir Called Out of Darkness, A Spiritual Confession and I would love to hear firsthand about her journey back to relationship with Christ.  I know that since she wrote this book, she became disillusioned with the church, and I would like to talk with her about that, too.

Ray Bradbury. No surprise here - he would be top of my list. He captured my writerly imagination in my senior year when The Martian Chronicles was assigned reading.  I wrote him several times in his later years to tell him how his words had moved me to become a writer.  After he passed away, I was glad that I had not put it off.

Daphne du Maurier.  I think I read all her books growing up.  Her female characters were strong and self-reliant, or in Rebecca's case, grew to be so.  Her stories didn't fit into any one genre, and I think I was drawn to that. She never wrote with a formula and her endings weren't always neatly tied up. 

I agree with Latayne, we Novel Matters writers need another retreat. The last time we all met together was 2009. We're overdue.

My Christmas dinner party. I've actually thought about this often over the years with the guests changing on a regular basis. There are writers whose work I love. There are writers whose stories are so fascinating (by virtue of truth or myth) I want to include them at the party in an attempt to squeeze out the true story. There are questions I would ply certain writers with that have nothing to do with their work (Hey, Edgar, why did you refuse to drills and classes at West Point? And who brought roses to your grave every year?), and there are writers who I would invite simply because I want to listen to whatever they have to say, whatever they say. You can see how torturous this is for me to publish a definitive list. I'll call it a guest list in process. I'll be rearranging the name tags for all my life. Still, here are some thoughts:

Marilynne Robinson. I promise you I don't know enough about reform theology to keep up, but I'd like the chance to try.

Chaim Potok. Because we need a counterpoint to Robinson, and because I firmly believe they would bond over the pate and I would take notes.

Alice Munro. I'd give her a break from all the Nobel talk. Instead we'd talk being Canadian, and the subtle and not so subtle differences between Eastern Canada and the West. Our conversation would roam wide as the nation. And, because it's Alice, I'd bring up the role of women but not feminism, the way men understand the turn of the leg, but not misogyny.

J.D Salinger. Enough reclusive living, already. I'd invite him to confirm my suspicions of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after The Battle of the Bulge. I'd serve him chamomile tea and he wouldn't have to talk if he didn't want to, but I'm certain Marilynne, Chaim, and Alice would draw him out and there would be a great healing for him and for the world.

Louisa May Alcott. She was her family's main source of income and so she learned to write fast (she wrote at least two works, Eight Cousins, and Little Men, in six weeks), and the stress was enormous. Addicted to morphine, and suffering from depression she eventually had to rent a room away from home just to be able to sleeps without the aid of drugs. I think she would sympathize with Salinger, and would benefit from the administrations of Potok and Robinson. Alice Munro would hold her hand and listen for hours and together they could carve out a better way.

~

Novel Matters wants to thank each and every one of our readers for making 2013 a Carpe Annum year. We've shared some amazing accomplishments, published books, and survived NaNoWriMo together. We have learned from each guest on the blog. It's been a wonderful year and we look forward to 2014 with you. We have some MAJOR ideas cooking, but, because they are still in their infancy, we will hold off revealing any details. What we can tell you is 2014 holds great promise and great reading.

Thank you so much for being a part of the Novel Matters community. We love this place where honesty, hope, and love mix together with ease. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a blessed and healthy New Year.

We will see you back here in January!

Be Brave and Experiment On

 .


 Bonnie's year end round up was a terrific way to draw our 2013 Carpe Annum to a close. So much wisdom and brain power in the same writing space! If you’re like me, one piece of advice stood out and made you say Oh, yes! Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of it and/or why had I forgotten it?  

While all of our interviews shared amazing insights, this statement by Julie Cantrell caused me to palm-smack myself in the forehead: 
 “I’m begging you… write as if no one will ever read it. That’s the only way you’ll find your true, original voice and feel free enough to reach the level of honesty readers really crave.”  
This is a powerful statement with many possible implications. I’ve been here before, and I’ll bet you have, too. 

How would I know whether or not I write in my true, original voice? 

If I don’t have it, how can I be sure when I find it?

How free do I want to be? Am I willing to go to that level of honesty?

What if no one likes the one and only original me?

Some of these are legitimate concerns and some are just plain whining with old-fashioned avoidance mixed in.  Ahem.
  We all want to be the best writers we can be, so we gird our loins and wade into the fray. To start the process, we could read aloud a passage from one of our manuscripts, shutting out the voices criticizing our words and refusing to wrestle with the real or imagined expectations of friends and family. This is not easily done.  We could write this one short passage over several times, allowing ourselves to be more fearless with each attempt. After all, we've promised ourselves that no one will ever read it. We can afford to write with abandon in private.  Repeat after me: "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain."

If we find our true, original voices, will we have the courage to use them? We writers are sensitive creatures. Will we expose ourselves to criticism if our true voices aren’t what others expect?  Or will we find that readers click with our honesty and devour our stories?  

Think of the most honest, original voice you’ve enjoyed reading. Was it safe? Was it like all the others? I’ll bet it kept you engaged and made you crave the next book.  Wouldn’t it be great if readers said that about our stories? The possibility makes it worth taking chances on ourselves.

Do you have the courage to find your true, original voice? We’d love to hear about your progress. Be brave and experiment on.
 

The Carpe Annum Interviews Year End Round Up

We declared 2013 Carpe Annum—Seize the Year! It was our way of encouraging you as an artist/writer to find your own path, listen to your inner iconoclast, and to be set free to explore your true writer/reader/human self. We invited a handful of writers and other publishing industry folks on the blog throughout the year to talk about writing, not writing, publishing, not publishing, and everything that goes on in between.

We’re thrilled to have them all back today, visiting from all over North America. It’s a bit squishy in here (next time, we’re booking a larger space!), but no one minds. Let’s eavesdrop on the conversation:

Bonnie Grove: One more seat for Don Pape, please. Could we have Lesley and Tosca scooch together? Thanks. Mind Arthur Slade’s feet. He has enormous feet. Pizza’s here! Christa Allan, could you tip the delivery person? Everyone here? Great. Let’s get started. Are books dead?

Don Pape (Publisher): We have seen through digital a real devaluing of intellectual property. Once we would buy a project with a reasonable advance and sell it for $15 in the hopes of recouping your investment. Now that consumer is wanting that same property – nah they demand – at $2.99 or heavens, free! 

Nicci Jordan Hubert (freelance editor) I suggest that although the medium may change, the relationship between authors and readers will never change. There is no “end of books.” Books will live forever, of course, whether they’re read on paper, an iPhone screen, futuristic computer-glasses, or perhaps some kind of cool osmosis process.

Bonnie Grove: With publishing changing daily, how does great fiction happen? How does the great stuff get out there into the hands of readers?

Don Pape (Publisher): Nothing changes – a Really Great story!! Whether it is historical, contemporary – a really great story well told, amazing fully developed characters. And please, not another “in the tradition of Left Behind” or “Gresham-like” – let’s be original please!!

Chris Fabry: I can have a great publishing plan, a brand people recognize, and all the “right” industry choices made, but if I don’t have a good story, I don’t have anything.

Julie Cantrell: Characters. For me…it’s all about the characters. And I do consider the setting a character. 

Nicci Jordan Hubert: If you really want to be a successful writer, there are no short cuts. Okay, if you’re related to a celebrity, you’ll have an easier time getting published, but for the rest of you… There is only one path to becoming a good writer: Reading lots of good books. Studying the craft of writing. Practicing writing a lot. Self-editing ruthlessly. And seeking out honest feedback.

Bonnie Grove: Feedback. Okay writers, dish about feedback. There’s all kinds, the helpful feedback you can get while working on a novel (and unhelpful), and then there’s the painful feedback that comes after the book releases.

Tosca Lee:  You know, I remember my first one-star review. My heart started thudding. I felt anxious, defensive, and mortified. But my anxiety has ebbed with time. A few months ago I saw a one-star review that said Demon was "written with the deftness and wit of an inebriated three year old." And I remember thinking, "Who would give alcohol to a three year-old??"

Arthur Slade: I was more concerned about reviews at the start of my career and would take them more personally. But now, with the advent of Amazon and Goodreads, I actually get a kick out of the bad reviews. Sometimes they can be quite creative (my favourite had a line that went something like “I had to drink a Coke while I was reading Dust in order to stay awake”). The only time I am frustrated by reviews is when they say something that is truly false about the book. Oh, plus my mom always says the books are good.

Bonnie Grove: How does a writer move past bad reviews/feedback? Especially in this day of Amazon and Goodreads. Everyone is a critic.

Chris Fabry: I no longer see my stories as for some mass audience out there. Each story is for an individual reader. And each story is for me.

Julie Cantrell: “Whatever you do, don’t waste your scholarship to study writing. You’ll be lucky if you ever publish a greeting card.” –  My 12^th Grade English Teacher . It took me ten years to get her voice out of my head. I didn’t write a thing for an entire decade because I was foolish enough to believe what she said as truth.

Lesley Livingston: I was an actor for years before I was a writer. I’m so very used to criticism (good and bad) and rejection (yay auditions! Bleh.) that it all pretty much just rolls off my back by now. It’s not always easy and sometimes I read a review and mutter unkind things but the truth is, if you’re going to believe the good reviews, you’ve got to believe the bad ones, too. It’s just what you said—opinions. Once the book is out there, it’s no longer just yours. And everyone who reads it has the absolute right to there opinion of it. (No matter how wrong they are!! Ha!)

Chris Bohjalian: I don’t dare read the reviews on Goodreads or Amazon or BN.com. I used to. I wrote an essay once for the Washington Post about my old addiction to reading the way anonymous people would eviscerate my work. But now, in the interest of my mental health, I give the reviews as wide a berth as I can. They can really screw up a sunny day.

Tosca Lee: I think just realizing that readers’ responses are a reflection of where they’re at. It’s not about you. It’s about what resonates—or doesn’t—with them right now. For me, I know that any time I choose to get offended, I’m the one who suffers.

Bonnie Grove: What keeps you going on rough days? None of you have thrown in the towel, and you’ve all reached wonderful success as writers. Is it going according to plan?

Christa Allan: In the beginning of my writing life, my path reflected the opening of Genesis. It was without form and full of darkness. I doubt I knew a path existed or even cared. So delirious with joy over my first contract, I didn't think beyond it. Sort of like being more prepared for the wedding than the marriage, you know?

Chris Bohjalian: I was simply hoping to write a novel after (finally) selling a short story. I amassed 250 rejection slips before I sold a single word.

Arthur Slade: Long ago, a fellow writer said it’d take about ten years to get published. She was wrong. It took me twelve. 

Ariel Lawhon: The only things that matter right now, today, are the words on the page in front of me. That’s what I can control. And I will never find joy in this profession—much less write another book—if I can’t enjoy the actual process of writing. So I have to touch the story every day. Even if it’s just a word or two. The only way to stay sane is to write.

Bonnie Grove: Share a bit about your writing process.

Chris Fabry: Writing was the path to freedom. If I could write through this devastation, if I could allow the pain I was going through to inform the story, my readers would connect with the character on an even deeper level. And I would find a measure of solace in the process.

Christa Allan: My process: Hooray! NYT Bestseller idea, write reams of brain urp on yellow legal pads, write three chapters, call my BFF and scream, "I don't have a novel, and why the hell did I ever believe I was a writer?"; go back to legal pads, write to the middle, make charts and graphs and index cards while consuming coffee, Coke Zero, chocolate, popcorn, Mike&Ikes ; write, stop and make more notes and consume any combination or all of the above foods, write...continue until "The End." I doubt that process has a name or that I'll be able to turn it into a writing book.

Bonnie Grove: Advice to writers?

Christa Allan: If I didn't pursue my dream, regret would pursue me.

Julie Cantrell: I’m begging you… write as if no one will ever read it. That’s the only way you’ll find your true, original voice and feel free enough to reach the level of honesty readers really crave.

Lesley Livingston: That’s the whole thing with carpe-ing. The act of seizing is a willful act. You pretty much just have to do it. Write. You can’t edit a blank page. You can’t revise an empty screen. The lion’s share of writing is re-writing. Get the words down. Then put them in the right order. For me, it comes down to writing every day. As much or as little as I can, but every day. If I’m away from the story for a day, it takes me twice as long to get my head back into the game.

Ariel Lawhon: Everything changed for me when I realized that if I wanted to have this job—and I did, I still DO—then I had to sit down and write a novel. I knew that if anything were to come of this dream it would spring from a finished novel and nothing else.

Arthur Slade:  Don’t expect it all to happen overnight. It’s such a cliché, but write every day and always look for ways to improve your craft. Writing is like working out for a Triathlon. I’ve never done one, but they look hard and you have to train hard. Writing is the same. It takes training. And tea breaks.

Bonnie Grove: Thanks so much, everyone for sharing your wisdom with us this Carpe Annum year. Let’s all crowd in for a group picture! Mind Arthur Slade’s enormous feet.