Blog Dis
Skillfully boring
2024-02-15
To judge and describe another writer's prose as skillfully boring is to say that as technicians in the writing craft, they are grammatically and functionally correct, in terms of how they construct their prose. However, the actual story doesn't necessarily mean that they've strung together a series of words that make one tasty hill of beans. I call these stories skillfully boring. As I read them, I find the writing is gifted in expressing him or herself but in no way does their prose make me feel anything and I mean feel absolutely nothing... not even indifference.
Picasso never wanted anyone to deconstruct his paintings. He felt, and I concur with his sentiment, that no one had the right to stand back and judge his work until they themselves would or could pick up a paintbrush and create something as equally provocative. Picasso only ever wanted to know if the viewer had felt something when looking at his completed work. A feeling suggests that on some level, whether conscious or subconscious, the piece of art was actually reaching into their heart and soul to leave a footprint, to have an effect. Powerful paintings can possess this level of influence, so do photographs and music and of course words — the power of spoken words have propelled armies to raise swords against insurmountable odds. The power of words can and have inspired others to change the course of their life. The power of words can alter your perspective, thereby changing how you interact with others. So therefore, the power of writing can swing either way. Sometimes a story will move you to tears and at other times, one big mother of a yawn cannot help but explode.
When I sell my novels at fantasy exhibitions, I've been told that my Crimson Fantasies have left the reader inspired to mount a bedpost, and that they've looked to their partner for immediate gratification. This is a good thing, to my mind, given that I regard my fantasy series as cliterature, rather than literature. Others have told me that my novels made them feel things that they haven't experienced in years. And yet some admonish me, saying they don't want to feel anything at all which is why they couldn't nor wouldn't read my material. During the last Comic-Con fantasy exhibition in Ottawa, one client told me that his wife and daughter had confiscated my novels from him, because they were giving him the wrong ideas. What a compliment!
Regardless, I'm pleased either way that at least my prose is capable of inciting genuine feeling in a reader. It's all I can hope for, to inject into an otherwise intellectual pursuit like reading a feeling or an array of feelings that otherwise were not anticipated. Then, most unexpectedly, as my writing matured, and my Crimson Fantasies evolved from one novel into six, some fans would circle back with me (in person) to formally complain that the saucy elements of my prose had been scaled back with each installment. I quote one reader, "You're taking yourself too seriously now as a writer. Your first novel was sex off the charts and it put my wife in the mood, and I loved this. Same goes with your second novel... and then the third was all about the story. I was disappointed." 🤣😘 To which I inquired, "Did your wife make it to novels four through six." The husband reluctantly admitted that she had and that she enjoyed the rest of my series but it just wasn't the same for him. Translation: He wasn't able to enjoy that afterward period.
Authors do not want to write the same novel every time, even in a series. Our goal remains the same, to entertain, to evolve, to produce something that exceeds our previous effort. Few books in my reading life have impacted me (and I read plenty, pretty much toggling between multiple books every week). Caleb Carr's, The Alientist, is a prime example; it literally gave me nightmares. I didn't think about the feelings I was having when I devoured it. I just knew in the act of reading it that I felt invigorated and excited while I attempted to guess the outcome of the story. Now, if Caleb had written in a skillfully boring style, his writing alone could be hailed as genius, ground-breaking, but the actual events in the story would barely register on the heart monitor. Writing with feeling is therefore the aim, or should be, even if that feeling is not altogether nice. Violence is a feeling as much as love. A writer shouldn't distinguish between the two by way of judging one set of feelings as being more worthy than the other because again the story should serve the story, not necessarily the reader.
Sometimes I'm not ware of the impact of my own judgements on others. One time I had purchased a small collection of stories by a literary magazine published in Ottawa. The editors were proud of their issue and this was evident on their eager faces as they asked for my opinion. I should have told them that their collection was spectacular and left it at that. But oh no. Not me. I'm the victim of foot-in-mouth disease. I wouldn't be myself if I didn't at times, perform like an idiot. I looked him straight in the eye, "Well, I found the writing to be skillful, on many levels, there's no question, but as for feeling something, anything... I'm so sorry! I thought the stories were skillfully boring." I knew immediately that this wasn't the reaction he was hoping for, and I regretted having been honest with him. I can't lie to myself, however. I know when my own stories are skillfully boring and when they have zing. The goal of course is to succeed at all times. The reality is that each reader is a compendium of a unique set of thoughts and feelings and will respond to your work on their level, not on yours.
If you took the time to line up every winner of the Governor General's Award for Literature in Canada, you could probably throw a rock blindly and hit one of them whose prose was second-rate. Skillfully boring writers are a dime a dozen. Now that I've completed the final read-thru of novel seven (notwithstanding that I'm tinkering a bit with the epilogue), I know in my heart that I'd rather throw my lot in with a writer who hasn't won one bloody award to save their life. Awards are for life heroes. Awards are, to my mind, not intended for people who want to be regarded as a hero just bcus they had cleverly strung together a series of words. William Shakespeare in the exception.
Permit me now to engage in brief, shameless self-promotion... I rarely do this, so just for the helluvit, you're welcome to download novel four for free from the Home page of my author website; see my X-bio for the link.
Picasso never wanted anyone to deconstruct his paintings. He felt, and I concur with his sentiment, that no one had the right to stand back and judge his work until they themselves would or could pick up a paintbrush and create something as equally provocative. Picasso only ever wanted to know if the viewer had felt something when looking at his completed work. A feeling suggests that on some level, whether conscious or subconscious, the piece of art was actually reaching into their heart and soul to leave a footprint, to have an effect. Powerful paintings can possess this level of influence, so do photographs and music and of course words — the power of spoken words have propelled armies to raise swords against insurmountable odds. The power of words can and have inspired others to change the course of their life. The power of words can alter your perspective, thereby changing how you interact with others. So therefore, the power of writing can swing either way. Sometimes a story will move you to tears and at other times, one big mother of a yawn cannot help but explode.
When I sell my novels at fantasy exhibitions, I've been told that my Crimson Fantasies have left the reader inspired to mount a bedpost, and that they've looked to their partner for immediate gratification. This is a good thing, to my mind, given that I regard my fantasy series as cliterature, rather than literature. Others have told me that my novels made them feel things that they haven't experienced in years. And yet some admonish me, saying they don't want to feel anything at all which is why they couldn't nor wouldn't read my material. During the last Comic-Con fantasy exhibition in Ottawa, one client told me that his wife and daughter had confiscated my novels from him, because they were giving him the wrong ideas. What a compliment!
Regardless, I'm pleased either way that at least my prose is capable of inciting genuine feeling in a reader. It's all I can hope for, to inject into an otherwise intellectual pursuit like reading a feeling or an array of feelings that otherwise were not anticipated. Then, most unexpectedly, as my writing matured, and my Crimson Fantasies evolved from one novel into six, some fans would circle back with me (in person) to formally complain that the saucy elements of my prose had been scaled back with each installment. I quote one reader, "You're taking yourself too seriously now as a writer. Your first novel was sex off the charts and it put my wife in the mood, and I loved this. Same goes with your second novel... and then the third was all about the story. I was disappointed." 🤣😘 To which I inquired, "Did your wife make it to novels four through six." The husband reluctantly admitted that she had and that she enjoyed the rest of my series but it just wasn't the same for him. Translation: He wasn't able to enjoy that afterward period.
Authors do not want to write the same novel every time, even in a series. Our goal remains the same, to entertain, to evolve, to produce something that exceeds our previous effort. Few books in my reading life have impacted me (and I read plenty, pretty much toggling between multiple books every week). Caleb Carr's, The Alientist, is a prime example; it literally gave me nightmares. I didn't think about the feelings I was having when I devoured it. I just knew in the act of reading it that I felt invigorated and excited while I attempted to guess the outcome of the story. Now, if Caleb had written in a skillfully boring style, his writing alone could be hailed as genius, ground-breaking, but the actual events in the story would barely register on the heart monitor. Writing with feeling is therefore the aim, or should be, even if that feeling is not altogether nice. Violence is a feeling as much as love. A writer shouldn't distinguish between the two by way of judging one set of feelings as being more worthy than the other because again the story should serve the story, not necessarily the reader.
Sometimes I'm not ware of the impact of my own judgements on others. One time I had purchased a small collection of stories by a literary magazine published in Ottawa. The editors were proud of their issue and this was evident on their eager faces as they asked for my opinion. I should have told them that their collection was spectacular and left it at that. But oh no. Not me. I'm the victim of foot-in-mouth disease. I wouldn't be myself if I didn't at times, perform like an idiot. I looked him straight in the eye, "Well, I found the writing to be skillful, on many levels, there's no question, but as for feeling something, anything... I'm so sorry! I thought the stories were skillfully boring." I knew immediately that this wasn't the reaction he was hoping for, and I regretted having been honest with him. I can't lie to myself, however. I know when my own stories are skillfully boring and when they have zing. The goal of course is to succeed at all times. The reality is that each reader is a compendium of a unique set of thoughts and feelings and will respond to your work on their level, not on yours.
If you took the time to line up every winner of the Governor General's Award for Literature in Canada, you could probably throw a rock blindly and hit one of them whose prose was second-rate. Skillfully boring writers are a dime a dozen. Now that I've completed the final read-thru of novel seven (notwithstanding that I'm tinkering a bit with the epilogue), I know in my heart that I'd rather throw my lot in with a writer who hasn't won one bloody award to save their life. Awards are for life heroes. Awards are, to my mind, not intended for people who want to be regarded as a hero just bcus they had cleverly strung together a series of words. William Shakespeare in the exception.
Permit me now to engage in brief, shameless self-promotion... I rarely do this, so just for the helluvit, you're welcome to download novel four for free from the Home page of my author website; see my X-bio for the link.
