The First Rule of Book Club
[image error]Last week I got invited to go along to a book club to discuss The Disappeared – an exciting and slightly nerve-wracking invitation. When I’m writing I find it best not to think about readers actually reading my words, because then I start wondering whether my mother’s next door neighbour will be appalled by that particular expletive, or whether that girl I went to primary school with will realise I’ve ‘borrowed’ bits of her experience, or whether one of the mums on the school run will think I’m too dark to be around her children. When I’m writing I focus on writing the stories I want to read and that helps fool me into thinking it’s my own private world.
But of course, writers crave readers, otherwise we wouldn’t put ourselves through the publication process. There’s probably a whole heap of psychology behind why writers crave readers, but I’m not going to go into that here. But when someone tells you they loved your book, it’s one of the best feelings ever. (And, of course, there’s a flip side to that…)
The first rule of book club, in my experience, is alcohol is part of the experience, so I had a pint of lager, purely to show my commitment. But the group was so friendly and engaging, I soon forgot to be nervous. It’s a privilege to get feedback from people who have just picked the book off the shelf. Writers can never experience their own work like that. There’s too much baggage, too many earlier drafts, too many trees to ever be able to see the wood. I see the story I think I’ve put on paper, whereas a reader gets to read the actual one.
Of course, readers also play their part in making the story. David Baboulene in The Story Book, says “All stories are delivered in subtext, because the real story is the underlying story.” I love that idea – that I’m writing a story on the surface and readers are reading something different underneath. He goes further: “The vast majority of actions must have implications beyond the presented action, and the vast majority of dialogue in your story must not mean what it says.”
Knowing what to leave out of a story is as important as what to put in. And that’s what I loved most about the evening: finding out whether readers had read the story I thought I’d written. Had I’d left too much out in places, had I over-told in others? It’s fascinating to learn how they felt about the different characters and what they were left wondering about once they’d finished reading the book (particularly interesting as I’m now editing the sequel.)
The evening lifted my spirits (as did the second pint). Thanks to Alfred Book Club for having me and please do get in touch if you part of a book club and you’d like to read The Disappeared.
Ali x
