What is the relationship between reader and writer? I’ve been a reader for far more hours of my life than I’ve been a writer. As a child, I made twice-weekly trips to the Kensington branch of the Brooklyn library nearest my home (my haul each time limited by the rules for children’s cards.) Writers were gods to me, purveyors of that which I needed for sustenance. Food. Shelter. Books. Those were my life’s priorities.
Naturally, I liked some books more than others. Some of the books I read as a child etched themselves on my soul (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn). I felt as if these books reached inside me and wrenched out truth.
As an adult reader I still feel that way; I’m constantly foraging for books that offer glimpses into a character’s psyche, that go deep enough to make me part of the choir, saying, “Oh yeah, me too, tell it, writer. True that, uh huh.”
Now that I am a writer, I’ve learned that reaching so deep isn’t always comfortable. Hey, my daughter’s gonna read this! Hey, husband: this isn’t you!It’s far easier to skate on the surface. And, honestly, there is a place on my shelf for those soothing books. Sometimes I want a comfort read, a total escape, a warm place to rest.
I believe there should be a covenant between writer and reader – an offering made by a writer to the reader. What it is that you, the writer, are offering to you, the reader? (Because I can’t imagine a writer who is not also a reader.) Are you making a covenant with the reader? Are you offering the reader the same qualities that you want when you’re the reader? Are you offering them your very best?
Sometimes I worry, that in the rush of wanting to publish, I could forget the importance of writing (in the inestimable words of Natalie Goldberg) down the bones.
My favorite books, the ones I return to time and again, are those ones gritty enough to have emotional truth (which is very different than the truth of events.) Thus, I try to write with a knife held to my own throat, so that my work will hold as much emotional truth as possible. Another reader/writer might prefer a thriller that sets their heart pounding–but every genre owns it’s own truth and depth. I suspect that the best writers in each genre are readers of the same.
Books are precious to me. Right now I am turning the pages of Game Change by John Heilemann and Mark Halperin in every spare moment. I schlepped the thing on Amtrak from Boston to Albany to Rhinebeck. I could have taken a lighter book, or simply read something on my electronic device. This is a controversial book – many have denounced it as no more than gossip. But whatever it is, it satisfies my hungry reader. I was so desperate to read this book that I was unwilling to leave it behind for 4 days. (I think Halperin and Heilemann put themselves on the good edge of their genre covering political intrigue in a presidential campaign.)
That’s exactly what this reader wants: writers who have dug deep, whatever their genre, and given me those best hours of my day. They kept their covenant with me.