My toddler has the chicken pox, and my husband is away, so I’m confined to the house with the boy until he’s no longer contagious. It’s no big deal, he’s fine, but it’s had an unexpected side effect for me.
I’ve had nothing to read.
My house, of course, is full of books. Many of them, I haven’t read yet. And yet I’ve been wandering the house at a loose end, picking up a book and putting it down, starting something and then discarding it after a page or two. Since I’m someone who will read and reread the instructions on shampoo bottles if there’s nothing else, this is pretty unusual. I think it’s because I have such stringent requirements for what I need to read just now.
I’m at the point midway through writing the first draft of my book when I pause and think about the plot and where it’s going. When I was beginning to write this book, I was on a total women’s fiction/chick lit/romance reading kick, and I don’t know if I was feeling insecure or what, but I seemed to be a bit too easily influenced by what I read. Subconsciously, or even consciously, I’d nick bits of ideas from the books I was reading and try to shoehorn them into my plot. One result of this was that I started and restarted this manuscript three times, with three completely different scenarios. When I got to the fourth attempt, I started getting it right. But I decided I wouldn’t read any more books in my genre until I’d got my own plot solidified in my head.
Plus, my own book sucks at the moment and reading something really amazing in my genre would just depress the hell out of me right now. You’re not supposed to have professional jealousy, but—there it is. Jennifer Crusie or Marian Keyes would push me over the edge.
So romance and chick lit and women’s fiction of any description are out. That cuts out 3/4 of my TBR pile.
For another thing, I’m on my own a lot of the time this week. I’m also exhausted. I need something escapist and light to read, something absorbing but not challenging. Nothing literary, or depressing, or scary, or disturbing. For example, I tried reading some Philip K Dick stories, and though I was very impressed and entertained, after the fourth or fifth one, I just about felt like cutting my own throat.
That cuts out the other quarter of my TBR pile.
I could reread something, but I’m stuck in my house. Everything’s too familiar already. I want something new.
Normally this wouldn’t be an issue. I’d go to the library or the book shop and I’d pick up something, or lots of somethings, that are perfect. But I can’t do that. I’ve ordered some books on the internet, but they take a few days to arrive. I could buy some ebooks, but I don’t have a reader and my back would report me to the police for assault if I sat in this computer chair much more.
I found the solution eventually—a friend brought round a care package of her books for me. My toddler’s poxes all scabbed up today, which means tomorrow I can go to the library too. So my dilemma is at an end. My habit is being fed.
Shayera wrote yesterday’s column about having book cravings, and gorging herself on one particular kind. That’s something I’ve done too, but I’m talking about something a little bit different—about the uses of reading as mood enhancer. How, at certain points in your life, you just need a certain kind of book, and nothing else will do. Romance and happy endings have got me through some very difficult times in my life; my friend’s Star Trek novels are going to get me through the end of this virus.
Have there been times in your life when only a certain kind of book will do, not because you want it, but because you need it?
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Absolutely. There’s comfort reading–Jennifer Crusie and Terry Pratchett re-reads, usually–and then there’s inspirational reading. This is the best I can find in the genre/mood I’m trying to write. And it can backfire too–being influenced even when you don’t want to be. I get this not just from books but from TV and films–hence why the Devil’s Whore made my first attempt at cyberpunk more war-torn and oddly historical than I intended.
I wanted Terry Pratchett! I knew he would be the ideal comfort read for me. But could I find him anywhere? None in the house, none owned by my neighbours, none even in the cheekily-popped-into (forgive me) charity shop up the road.
Now that I can leave the house, I’m planning on buying some for emergencies.
I deliberately don’t read in my genre (contemporary romance) because I’m so suggestable to plots, etc. At least if I ’steal’ that Regency romance plot, it will be significantly different in my contemporary.
I SO hear you about mood reading. I tend to pick heroes who can ’save me’ from my moods. If I’m feeling anxious, I pick up the beast, a black or white type of action hero. If I’m feeling sad, I pick up the funny guy, someone with some great one liners.
Yes, Kimber, I would have loved to have read some Regency or historical. It’s so out of my normal reading habits though that I didn’t happen to have any in the house. Maybe this is a lesson to buy out of my comfort zone some more; I tend to do my experimenting in the library (and in the UK, authors get a fee every time their book is borrowed from the library, so experimenting benefits everybody).
Hospitals and murder mysteries seem to go together for me… don’t know why. There have been a few times in the past years when I’ve been stuck beside a hospital bed for long periods, and a friend who knows my taste has come through with a stack of murder mysteries – cozies – God Bless friends who understand you.
Yes! Cosy murder mysteries are perfect for hospitals. And, may I suggest, PG Wodehouse. I read Thank You, Jeeves roaming up and down the hospital corridors when I was in labour. Walk, read, walk, read, contraction—stop. Walk, read, walk, read, contraction—stop.
Perfect.
Sometimes when the TBR stack isn’t working out I buy an ebook.
An ebook would have been the perfect solution for me, Jill. I could have bought it online and had it immediately. Ebooks are great for instant gratification. Except for that pesky need-a-reader thing. I have a laptop, but I can’t cuddle up to my laptop in bed, or carry it around the house to pick up in the five minutes between playing with trains and making lunch.
Maybe I should plan ahead for these things, but I don’t have £200 right now for planning ahead. I wish the hardware were cheaper! (And I’m saying that as an epublished author, as well.)
I hear you. I don’t have an ereader either.
You’ve got to wonder how many readers are missing out because of the lack of easily-affordable technology, or at least technology that you can access at the last minute because your kid’s come down with chicken pox and you can’t leave the house.
(I’m quite willing to be told I’m wrong, BTW. If I could read ebooks without spending £200 or sacrificing my back, I’d love to know it.)
Well, I’m told you can read Kindle titles on an iPhone, but they’re hardly cheap, either.
I’d love an e-reader too–and I also speak as an e-published author. I have a little netbook laptop, but it’s still not very comfortable to use for long periods of time and you can’t hold it like a book!
I generally turn to series mystery, where I can commune with ‘old friends’ and still not worry about carryover into my own romantic suspense. However, now I’m trying to write a ‘real’ mystery, and so I guess I’ll read romantic suspense as a diversion.
When I’m in the dumps, I’ll head straight for Eve and Roarke, though.
I haven’t read series mystery since I was a teenager. I’m thinking it’s a good idea.
Oh, my bookshelves probably have more series mystery than anything else. I’ve belonged to The Mystery Guild for decades and have fallen in love with so many of the returning characters. Since you don’t have the relationship resolution the way you have to have it in romance, you can really follow the characters. JD Robb is one of the few who pulls it off in “romance.”
Yep – I do find my moods help me choose what type of book I want to read.
My father passed away three weeks ago and since then I find I paranormals – anything that takes me out of this day to day world and it’s reminders.
When work/DH/Life stresses me out in other ways, I turn to Historicals. Funny, dark, etc it doens’t matter.
But when things are going well, then bring on the Contemps!
Sabrina, I’m sorry for your loss.
But you illustrate so well what I feel is true, which is the real theraputic value of reading and the way they can take you somewhere else while your mind and emotions nurse their wounds and get ready to heal.
How interesting that you read contemporaries (which is what I write) when you don’t mind being reminded of real life!