Why write? Why read?

Everyone who writes, writes for their own reasons. That’s the way it should be - creativity follows its own quirky paths. Yesterday I heard Robert B. Parker, author of the Spenser novels, being interviewed on the radio. He said straight out that he writes for profit (God bless him) and that, once he writes something, he never re-reads it.

Parker is a skilled craftsman and can get away with that. After you have written as many books as he has not looking back ought to be easy. I have read a few of his books (I am a fan of audio books and have listened to the Spenser novels read by Joe Montegna - what a treat) but his style of writing is not something I would ever do or even aspire to. A cat may look at a king, perhaps, but even the cat knows whether he likes the king’s style.

Last night I finished reading Peter Anastas’s No Fortunes. It is a lush book, rich in detail and vibrant with ideas. Set at Bowdoin College in 1959, No Fortunes deals with the fragile human struggles of a group of boys teetering on the edge of manhood, excited by ideas, uncertain about the future, frustrated by sexuality, and flirting with adventure. The main character, Jason Makrides, is an aspiring writer and, like many writers, every aspect of his new world is a treasure that becomes grist for his writer's mill. I was particularly enchanted by it because much of the atmosphere of burgeoning sexuality is so similar to that in my first novel.

Anastas has a beautiful mind. He thinks about art and ideas, literature and music, in ways that few enough people make room for in their lives. Because of my involvement in the local arts community, I was particularly enchanted by his discussions in the book on art. Edward Hopper painted here and sometimes when I turn a corner in Gloucester and see a certain house or a turn in the road I think, “Hopper was here - right here on this spot. He saw what I am seeing and he painted it.” That gives me a thrill.

Parker is also a visual writer but his books are not books about ideas, they are books about awful people doing horrid things and how they get caught. That has a lot more market appeal.

I’ve been thinking about all of this a lot since I wrote my blog on depressing books with no redeeming value. Why do people choose to read what they do? For my money sinking into a lush, rich world like the one Anastas creates is far more rewarding than bopping along in a Spenser book. But any one Spenser book will attract far more readers than a literary book like No Fortunes. Why is that? Are people more drawn to simple entertainment and a quick thrill than to the pleasure of a long, slow savoring of something rich and gorgeous?

I don’t have an answer. A long time ago I was talking to a friend about a book I was reading (I forget which) that was a deep, literary novel of ideas. My friend said, “That would drive me nuts - when I read I want to be entertained. I have to think enough at work, when I come home I want to relax.”

Maybe that’s my problem. I never thought thinking was hard work. I love to linger over a book that lets me stop and savor the beauty of the language or contemplate the situation and its ramifications. I find that more nurturing and enjoyable than frantically reading, turning pages, and rushing through to find-out-what-happens.

So, I guess we all come to reading with our own preferences. As a person who has spent her life in marketing departments, I’ve been trained to always think about the intended market. But as a writer I have to follow my heart and hope someone will find where it goes interesting. That market may be smaller but it is one I write for.

Thanks for reading.