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She Loves It, He Loves It Not

Why do I like a novel while someone else might find the same book boring or awful? We all bring our personal biases and interests to the material that we read. For instance, I read Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan recently, and found some of it difficult to handle because of the outrageous spending practices of the characters. I live on a modest budget and would never dream (nor could I afford) to spend $200,000 on a dress. I found the book entertaining but probably would have enjoyed it even more had I not been so sensitive to the blatant consumerism (I kept thinking about the starving kids in . . . America).

The movie Gone Girl is opening this weekend. I believe that the book on which the movie is based is polarizing; some readers love it, others hate it. I don’t like it, because of the ending. But here again, maybe my dislike of the book stems from my preference for stories with happy endings, or at least with endings that leave the reader satisfied. Without giving away the ending, for those who may not have read the book, it didn’t satisfy me because it seemed not to resolve anything.

Not one book can appeal to everyone, but some do a pretty good job of appealing to a lot of us. As a writer, I would love to produce a bestseller someday. For the meantime, I work at writing material that pleases me first. If I don’t like it, who else will?

My Ten

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On Facebook the last couple of weeks, some of my friends have been challenged by some of their friends to list ten books that have “stayed with them in some way.” The instruction is that one should not dwell on the question but list the first books that come to mind. Not one of my friends challenged me, but if one had, my list was ready. Here it is, in no particular order:

REBECCA by Daphne DuMaurier Why: Great mystery with evil first wife. Also, the mousy heroine reminded me of me before I shed my doormat traits.
OF HUMAN BONDAGE by Somerset Maugham Why: The perils of obsessive love. It makes fools of all.
JANE EYRE by Charlotte Bronte Why: Feisty heroine. Good role model for women.
CARAMELO by Sandra Cisneros Why: I recognized my Mexican-American family all over this book. Made me smile.
LITTLE WOMEN by Louisa May Alcott Why: Coming of age is never easy.
BURRO GENIUS by Victor Villasenor Why: How to make the most of your innate gifts.
LORD OF THE RINGS by J.R.R. Tolkein Why: What a world!!!
WHAT DREAMS MAY COME by Richard Matheson Why: Made me think of the after life as never before
OUTLANDER: Why: Just WOW!!!
SHERLOCK HOLMES by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Why: Where I first fell in love with the detective mystery genre.

A Little Bit of Mystery

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I love a mystery. That’s a good thing because there are so many terrific ones to enjoy. I’m not just talking about fiction; there are plenty of true crime books so creepy that they can cause a reader to lose sleep (I have). That supports the old proverb “Truth is stranger than fiction.” But, I’d rather read a mystery novel than a true crime story because I won’t already know the ending . . . at least not usually. More recently I’ve come to realize that as a veteran mystery reader, it’s often not a challenge to determine the identity of the culprit, even before the detective or mystery solver has figured it out. Nevertheless, I continue to read mysteries for sheer pleasure.

One of my favorite mystery writers is Nevada Barr. Her stories are set in national parks throughout the US (the parks are hotbeds of murder whenever Anna Pigeon, the protagonist, is around). Elizabeth George is another favorite. She writes complicated characters who often have disturbing inclinations. More recently, I’ve started exploring the books of S.J. Bolton, having read Now You See Me, and now I’m hooked. Her protagonist, Lacy Flint, is a troubled woman with a difficult past. I love the brooding types. For me, they are much more interesting than the mentally healthier characters like Qwill in the Cat Who mysteries. I like my mysteries dark.

What a Character

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Scarlett O’Hara, Harry Potter, Philip Marlowe, Jane Eyre, Mr. Darcy . . . All are memorable fictional characters, so familiar to us that one might know who they are without even having read the books that made them famous. I have a preference for character-driven novels and have met many intriguing personalities through my readings.

I think if I were to be the heroine in a novel, it would probably put the reader to sleep. I’ve led a much too normal life; I’ve never married a guy who was already married to a lunatic he kept hidden in the attic, made a dress out of drapes because I was too poor to buy one, or struggled with my identity as a wizard. But even more than the hurdles that fictional folks have to surmount, they need personal attributes that make them intriguing, and they certainly don’t have to be likable. When I read Somerset Maugham’s Of Human Bondage, I was so angry at the weak-willed hero, Philip Carey, that I wanted to reach into the pages and bitch slap some sense into him. But that’s what well-written characters can do–elicit a strong emotional reaction from the reader.

Here are some of my favorite fictional characters: mystery writer Nevada Barr’s Anna Pigeon (a-troubled-recovering-alcoholic-park-ranger-murder-solver), Michael Connelly’s Harry Bosch (a-troubled-Vietnam-vet-turned-cop-semi-alcoholic-insomniac), Diana Gabaldon’s Claire Fraser (stubborn-time-traveling-sometime-bigamist-war-nurse-healer), and Adriana Trigiani’s Ave Maria Mulligan Machesney (a-one-time-longtime-single-insecure-wise-cracking-small-town-Italian-American-Southerner). Though I wouldn’t necessarily want to hang with these people in real life, they make for some fascinating reading.

Good Book, Good Movie?

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With tomorrow’s airing of the Diana Gabaldon series Outlander, I started thinking about what I consider good vs. bad movie adaptations of books. If I love a book, sometimes I dread watching the movie because it might not live up to my expectations. I, of course, was not disappointed by The Godfather or Gone With the Wind, two great adaptations that come to mind. I rarely watch the movie version before reading the book; I don’t want to ruin the reading experience, which is more important to me. However, last year I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower after watching and loving the movie. I have to say, the book didn’t pack the strong emotional impact of the movie.

Some of the worst adaptations are old movies. Both The Foxes of Harrow and Valley of Decision (I watch a lot of Turner Classic Movies) are poor adaptations of the books, though not bad movies on their own. (Though I still prefer the 1945 version of Mildred Pierce over the more recent televised version, even though it wasn’t faithful to the book.) Perhaps in present day, movie producers tend to be more faithful to the source work so as not to disappoint the expectations of the book’s fans.

Some of my favorite movie adaptations are: Shutter Island, The Silence of the Lambs, the Harry Potter series, The Exorcist. (I do hope that Outlander will join that list because it’s based on one of my all-time favorite novels.)

Worst adaptation: I choose The Shining; again, not a bad movie on its own, but not nearly as good as the book. It really lost me at the Heeeeere’s Johnny scene. I just cracked up.

I Love Big Books (and I cannot lie)

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What do Gone With the Wind and War and Peace have in common (besides being about war and peace)? Both are BIG books. I’ve never been one to read short stories, and not until recently did I realize the reason why. Short stories are just that, short. There is no time for the reader to become entrenched in the plot, the characters, the setting. A big book allows the reader to become intimately familiar with the characters, which is what I enjoy the most, especially when they are intriguing personalities.

What do I not like about big books? I don’t like too many long, descriptive passages, and plots that don’t go anywhere. I am currently reading the eighth volume in Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. I am a HUGE fan of these big books (all between 500-1000 pages each). But while I am faithful to the series, some of the entries are better than others. The current read is one of the better ones. Gabaldon is a very good writer who can immerse the reader in the world she has created. The characters, especially the protagonist, Claire Fraser, are compelling, and readers want to revisit them again and again. Written in My Own Heart’s Blood, the latest in the series, is an easy, entertaining read with the signature intriguing characters and settings. However, the plot is lacking (granted, I’m only halfway through the book, but in 400+ pages, the plot should have stepped up by now). There is a series of episodes, but there is little suspense because the main story (there is a side plot that is more interesting) is not building to a big reveal. I stick with it because I’m a fan, but ordinarily I expect more of a plot from big books. But I can understand why this sort of big book has appeal. Readers get to live with beloved characters for 800+ pages, and reside in a world that can seem as real, in the hands of a good author, as the one outside our doors.

Big books I hope to read someday: Moby Dick and Don Quixote.

Reading With My Eyes Closed

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I’ve always enjoyed a good horror story, whether on film or in a book. If a film, I’ll watch like a frightened child, with my hand covering my eyes, peeking through my fingers so as not to miss too much of the action on the screen. It’s kind of silly to expect a mere hand to protect me, though it does give a measure of comfort. But I was thinking . . . when I read a horror novel, it’s ludicrous to peek between my fingers as I would during the scary parts of a movie. I can look away from the written words, but what’s to keep my mind from picturing the scenes of horror I’ve just read?

The scariest novel I’ve ever read is Dracula by Bram Stoker. It is so, so, so much better than any of the movie versions. I read it during the day, when the sun was out (though, do you know, in the book, Dracula can be out and about in the daytime because the sun doesn’t kill him, it only reduces his powers). Several years before discovering Dracula, I’d made the mistake of reading The Exorcist, by William Peter Blatty, at night when everyone else in the house was asleep. I was terrified, but darned if I would put that book down for one second! The devil couldn’t have pried it from my hands.

I’m a Stephen King fan. Among my favorite SK books are Salem’s Lot and The Shining. Of more recent reads, probably the scariest for me was Help for the Haunted by John Searles. Creepy book. I’m always open to suggestions, if you have any favorite horror novels to recommend.

Chick Lit

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I enjoy chick lit but maybe not as much as I once did. I started reading it a few years ago, about ten years into my marriage. I was single for what seemed like an eon (sounding like a character in one of those books). Why would I want to revisit those sometimes lonely, painful years of singlehood by reading books about young women looking for love? Maybe because my own story ended in a happy marriage, and I look back on my single years with more nostalgia than is merited? Or maybe it’s because I miss the close friendships I developed with other singles during those years? Those friendships were never quite the same after my marriage (in fact, some of them faded away, for one reason or another). Whatever the case, I enjoy the stories of single women, their friendships, the challenges they face, and the humor that is imparted through chick lit. My favorite titles in the genre are Good in Bed, by Jennifer Weiner, and Waking Up in the Land of Glitter, by Kathy Cano-Murilllo (hilarious book–I laughed a lot).

But why does it seem that I’m now losing interest in these books? Without naming names, I’ve read some lousy chick lit lately. The characters have such negative self-images (too much cellulite, too many bad hair days, big feet, big hands, fat wrists–yes, I’m exaggerating, but you get the idea) , it’s difficult to root for them. If they don’t like themselves, how do they expect someone else to love them, or the readers to care about them? Yes, as a single, I certainly remember occasionally wallowing in self-pity, like rolling around in a vat of chocolate-chip ice cream. But for the most part, I felt good about myself and what I had accomplished in my life, especially as a professional in my field. Maybe I’ll take a break from reading these books unless someone recommends a good one. Do you have any recommendations for me?

Reading Bilingual

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As a young reader of the classics of English literature, I often came across phrases in French, which I could not understand. It irritated me because I couldn’t look up the words in a French-English dictionary–I didn’t have one, and this was long before the Internet existed.Given that we live in a monolingual society here in the US, of course I didn’t know French. I am bilingual but my other language is Spanish, which I learned in the home and later improved by studying in college. In my home we spoke in Spanglish:

Me: Mom, what’s for dinner?

Mom: No estoy preparando dinner. Vamos a un restaurant tonight.

Recently I read the Pulitzer Prize winning The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz. I consider it to be one of the best and most unique novels I’ve read. Some of the reviews that I came across on the Goodreads site complained that the author used too much Spanish when he wrote the book. Yes, there is some Spanish, but it doesn’t take away from the story–it enhances it. Considering that it is a story partially set in the Dominican Republic, it makes sense that at least some Spanish is in the book, as I’m sure that it makes sense that there is some French in the literary classics that I read. It is a shame that in the US we traditionally have failed to promote the learning of a second language. I think being bilingual or, even better, multilingual, is a gift. It makes us more well-rounded, we can converse with a greater number of people, and . . . when we read a book that throws in the occasional foreign language phrase, we might be able to understand it.

Can’t Put the Book Down?

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I was trying to remember the last time that I read a book I couldn’t put down. It was The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and I read it in 2010 while on vacation in Hawaii. I also remember that I later read a review that claimed “Dragon Tattoo” was poorly written. Did I notice that? Honestly, no. I was so wrapped up in the story I wouldn’t have noticed a misspelled word, a run-on sentence, or any other sort of error, if there was one. Which begs the question (at least for me), Is it better to write a novel that the reader can’t put down, though the grammar might be less than perfect? Or is it better to produce a well-written, respected, intelligent story, one that garners praise from critics but fails to capture a large audience of readers? I don’t know the answer. All I know is that I have to write what comes to me naturally and, in the process, produce the best work that I can–something that makes me proud. Authors can’t choose their readers; readers choose authors.