Am I the only one who suffers from wavering interest syndrome?
<--- "Give me a treat, and I might act interested."
This can occur when the past few books I've read just weren't what I hoped they would be. Even if the characters or story come alive from the start, the mucky middle or climax trips over itself. It makes me question if I've lost interest in reading. Crazy, I know.
It's worse when I mentally apply the latest writing trends to older books that didn't have the current traditional publishing constraints. I realize how prudish this sounds, but I can't help it. "Avoid adverbs at all costs" and "show, don't tell" have been pounded into me by articles, books, critiques, and hearsay from other writers for years.
I also know adverbs aren't always the destroyer of great tales, and a little telling is necessary to keep a story moving. I'm even guilty of liking an occasional adverb. *Hushed whispers ensue*
I can't be the only one who feels pressure to rise to greatness while flipping through published pages that read more like second drafts. The material must appeal to someone, or the books wouldn't have been published in the first place. Then, I remember persistence is the key to the traditional publishing industry. The authors of less engaging stories still poured hundreds of hours into their finished product and deserve to be published just as much as I do.
Take a step back and breathe.
No book is or will ever be perfect. Writing perfection or aiming to please everyone is an impossible goal. I need to remind myself almost daily to stop trying. That said, I may also need to stick to this goal: if a book I'm reading isn't keeping my interest, put it down. It wasn't for me, and that's okay. Even if my opinion is minority, that's okay, too.
I remember teetering on the edge of a paranormal romance series for which I had high hopes. I had read several books by this same author and liked her style years back. Some of the characters I remembered from the same world were name-dropped which should have been more exciting.
Four chapters in, I felt like I missed the first book in the series. Exposition overloaded the first two chapters. Who were these bonded characters who barely knew each other? The most common adverbs padded each paragraph, sometimes two per sentence. Background characters had more spotlight than the main couple. A mundane issue was chewed to death with repetitive thoughts throughout. Dialogue dumps worthy of The Iliad stretched to the South Pole and back.
I cringed and skimmed.
And yet, I wanted the story to get better. I wanted to enjoy that series so much that I gave it more time.
Could I have grown so much as a writer since I last read that author that I could no longer appreciate her style? It sounds too arrogant to admit—except I just did. It could also be that the same phenomenon has afflicted me as when I took film classes in college. After Topics in Film Noir, I could no longer watch a movie or show without squinting at every plot hole, lazy bit of dialogue, or superfluous character as though I stared into the afternoon sun.
I'm sure this habit drives my husband crazy. We try to watch new shows or movies, and I veto them at the first sign of issues.
Now that I've branded myself an uppity purist, I do want to say that I try. I try to latch onto an aspect in every form of media. As long as I like one character or plot dynamic, I can usually give the show or book a chance.
Here's a recent example. Hubs and I were in the mood to watch something light, so we loaded the Sonic The Hedgehog movie. I knew what to expect: cute story, vapid characters, butt jokes, aging Jim Carrey, and great CGI. It delivered on all counts. But, you know what? I was in the right mindset to laugh at the absurdity. The fact that Sonic the Hedgehog 2 was one of my favorite childhood video games helped immensely.
And, for my own sake, I reiterate: perfection doesn't exist.
Could I have hated the movie if I went in with higher expectations? Of course. Would it have been even better with five shots of whiskey in my system? Absolutely.
If this logic applies to me, then it applies to others. Those who drop scathing reviews aren't always brutal critics. It could be they read or watched something at a dark time, in the wrong mindset, or some other outside influence turned them off. How many times has a friend talked up something until my expectations reached the clouds? Often. Do I share their enthusiasm after experiencing said topic? Rarely.
My time is still precious. I want to spend it helping others, being creative, or doing something I enjoy. I still slog through paranormal exposition land and enjoy parts of it. Even less inspired writing can be an excellent teacher. And, if I don't care for what I'm reading, I can put it down. If I ever do get published, readers will give my books the same treatment. Some will love them. Some loathe them.
Because perfection doesn't exist, creators can't please everyone. Expecting ourselves to reach that mark is stifling. People form their own opinions on every movie, book, show, etc. As long as a few others share my love for my work, that should be enough. And as long as I can share my writing journey with others and help them along theirs, the struggles are worth it.
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