Assume Reader Resistance

There’s always the feeling when
you write something that maybe no one else will want to read it. And that’s
exactly how you should think.



Sure, there are going to
be one or two people who are into exactly what you’re into, but for the most
part people won’t be. Just because you came up with a story won’t automatically
make them want to read it.



Realising this is
half the battle to avoiding it (although admittedly it is the easy half).







There are those people in life
whose exploits are interesting to you because you know them. When a friend or a
family member has something to tell you it has a different effect than if a guy
on a bus started telling you about his day.



Similarly, we are more forgiving
towards characters we already know or authors who we are familiar with. Our
expectations are secure enough for us to assume their story will be of interest
(although that may not turn out to be the case). We’re willing to give them the
benefit of the doubt.



But characters that are new to us
are treated with a degree of scepticism. As a writer trying to win over readers
you can’t rely on the audience being generous with their time, especially in
the current climate where there are a zillion other people vying for their
attention.



And while someone saying they
have an interesting story to tell may be true, if you’re in a room full of
people telling you that, which one are you going to choose to listen to?



Because that’s how things are at
the moment. A lot of writers surrounding each reader, making hyperbolic claims
and offering unbeatable prices.



So, if you were at  a party where everyone has some story to tell,
who would catch your eye?



Obviously I can’t give you any
definitive answers, but I have been thinking about it and the following things
occurred to me.



There’s the guy who has a large
group gathered around him, holding court. We’d all love to be that guy, but
he’s already made it. I think we have to look a little lower on the totem pole for inspiration. 



There’s the guy who’ll talk to
anyone he can corner. He doesn’t make much sense, but he talks non-stop and
seems to always pop up. I think we’d all love not to be that guy.



There’s the guy acting weird and
a bit crazy. He’s standing on a chair and flapping his arms like a chicken. Is
he having some kind of manic episode or just looking for attention? Either way,
when people try too hard to be noticed it rarely leads anywhere interesting.
Properly entertaining eccentricity tends not to be so showy.



Then there’s the guy who seems to
be up to something. He’s looking out of the windows and checking locked doors.
Maybe it’s all innocent, but maybe not. Now I think we’re getting somewhere. I
can tell what he’s doing (making sure the place is secure) but I don’t know
why.  I didn’t know why the chicken guy
was doing what he was doing, but I didn’t know what he was doing either.
Complete mystery is baffling. Partial mystery is intriguing.



But wait, here comes a girl I
don’t know who grabs me by the arm and whispers, “You have to help me. Pretend
we know each other from university and we’ve just bumped into each other.” And
before I can ask her why, a huge oaf come stumbling in with a bloodied lip, and
she turns to you and says, “Oh my god! I can’t believe it’s you!”



The thing about that last example
is that whether or not you’re interested in this story doesn’t matter, you’re
part of it. The story that engages you is the one that involves you.



Now, that may seem fair enough in
theory, but what does that mean in terms of writing? How can you involve the
reader in the story (unless it’s one of those “Choose Your Own Adventure”
books).



The key to that last example
being more engaging than the others is this: What will the character choose to
do?



The woman has asked for help, she
obviously needs it, and there’s no time to think things over. Play along or bail? Choices are what
makes a story compelling. Not whether someone has cheese or tuna in their
sandwich, that’s not a choice it’s a preference. What does the character choose
to do when the outcome matters? What do they choose when there's a personal cost? 



By putting a character in that
position and not letting them off the hook, the story becomes impossible to put
down (for the next few pages at least).



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