After yesterday’s post, about making the reader cry, I had this response —
Isn’t that saying that “the reader” is generic and that all readers are robotic and respond to the same literary manipulative stimuli?
— from the writer Steve Finbow, my friend and former workmate.
Which, I replied, was a good question. But that wasn’t really my answer.
My answer is this —
In order to say anything at all about writing in general, I have to generalise.
And in order to fit a quote on a social media card, I have to be very direct.
So instead of saying, a certain, hopefully large number of very diverse readers, I instead used the shorthand of the reader.
The comments on yesterday’s post make very clear there’s no such thing as a guaranteed unified response to any piece of writing.
However, since having a my crocheted Vincent Van Gogh tweet go a little bit viral, I’ve realised something.
Although all the 613 comments were individual, and came out of the thoughts and feelings of very different people, they were responses to the same question — and a great number of them made the same joke.
An earful!
If you are aiming for a mass audience, you are — in one way or another — trying to provoke a mass response.
By writing a violent thriller, you are not aiming predominantly for the readers who enjoy your descriptions, say, of lots of different modes of transport.
There’s a core effect, suspense, more suspense and release, that you are aiming for.
And although this doesn’t mean you can be reductive about each individual reader, you are thinking of them as an audience with certain basically predictable tastes.
They have come for a violent thriller, and that’s the only thing they’re going to stay for.
This is one of the differences between genre and literary fiction. Many (but not all) genre novels are aiming to create generic emotions in their many readers. Horror fiction is about horror, with a smattering of dread, disgust and relief. These novels are not plotted so as to allow individual readers to wander freely through the text, having important realisations or not between this and this page.
Some literary fiction definitely does encourage vagueness and wandering — or sets itself up only to be understood when being re-read. Genre fiction usually isn’t written in the expectation of a second reading. When you know whodunnit, that’s enough.
Again, I’m generalising.
I don’t think it’s unreasonable to imagine the writer of a genre novel as saying to themselves —
Unless the reader is feeling X by the end of this scene, I’ve probably lost them.
Their way towards this may have involved drafts in which the intended effect wasn’t precisely known or located. But once they have a secure sense of the plot, they need the set-up to work as a set-up, not as a satisfaction.
This doesn’t mean that they think all readers are robotic.
It does mean that, through experience, through guesswork, through hope, they come to believe there are some literary manipulative stimuli that will generally work on the mass readership they’re aiming for.
If you write the protagonist bravely rescues the kitten scene, you know it will make the reader glow up with liking for the protagonist.
Even the most experimental writer has to have a general sense of, this weirdness is worth paying attention to.
Writing for the reader, however clumsily imagined, is better than writing for the unknowable void.
I write genre fiction, and you're right that we have to hit certain emotional beats. The key moments are the inciting incident, midpoint/point of no return, and the darkest moment/climax.
They have to be as emotional and heartbreaking as possible. There are writing tricks for this, such as short chapters with cliffhanger endings, but you have to draw the reader in with well-drawn characters and worlds so that they become invested in the characters' journeys. Otherwise the emotion goes nowhere.
So yes, while I write, I'm thinking about the potential readers. Will they put off if the character does this, is it unbelievable (and elbows the reader out of the world) if they do that?
In my nonfiction (19th C true crime and forensics), I had trouble with the tone of voice. But then I found that thinking of who my reader is helped me to get the tone right. The reader in my head for those books is my dad! Someone who's intelligent but didn't go to university, who wants to find out about the way life was lived in the past, but doesn't want obscure words in every sentence. I used the three act structure for the book, too, even though it's not fiction, because I felt that would make it more readable.
I often wonder about this idea of writing for the reader. I seen many writers say they write for their readers. I never write for my readers. My last two published books have fans, great reviews, etc. Some people love them. But it's a limited amount of readers. The first book was a limited run, so not many available. The second was available everywhere, from Waterstones to Audible. But it was hardly a best seller. Apart from anything, it was released at the tail end of lockdown, so promotion events were impossible. What can you do?
Even so, I never gauge success by popularity or material gain. For me, writing a book is a work of art, and the most important aspect is writing it. The journey of visions and the third-eye navigation of other dimensions, a holy quest for the story and its hidden meanings. The mysterious process of it. A magic.
I never write for my readers, or a reader, or any reader. I write for the story. If others like it great. If someone wants to publish it, fantastic. If readers then like it, even better. But it's the delirium of creation that matters more than anything to me. The rest is secondary. There are aspects and elements of the book I'm writing that no one will ever know of or notice. Hidden meanings. Esoteric fascinations.
The book I'm working on is my best work so far. I even gave it a more understandable resolution of sorts this time. But no happy ending. My main aim for any reader, if anything, is to upset them. Stab them in the heart, the lungs, the liver, over and over. A brutal assassination of the reader. To disrupt and disorient their psychic perception, and undo their comfortable perspective of a concrete reality. Other than that, I don't give a toss about pleasing a reader.
The other day, a reader contacted me to tell me they couldn't stop thinking about my book. It gave them strange dreams and nightmares. It disturbed them and entranced them. This is as good a compliment as I can hope for. If my words can infect another's mind with a spell of mesmer, I'm done with my reader and my success has achieved beyond intention.
I write for the story. The reader and his or her response is secondary. One of my favourite reviews was the only bad review, a one star. "No obvious resolution. Badly written rape scenes." There are no rape scenes in it, and everyone else had said it was well written, so I was just pleased it had upset the reader so much as to claim something untrue about it. Bless. Someone else told me they gave up on the first page (first book), as they had no idea what it meant or what it was saying. Well, I ain't writing for everyone or anyone, so it'll all be alright in the end. I'll die soon and none of it really matters.