read like a writer
This year, my goal is to read forty-five books. For the past two years, I’ve tracked my reading on the Goodreads app (friend me! I’m @ashleyshaffey) and attempted to meet goals of a certain number of books. I don’t take myself too seriously, though, and view it more as a motivator and way to track what I’ve read, rather than a hard-and-fast challenge.
I love to read, always have, but some years it’s fallen to the bottom of the priority list, depending on what else I had going on. Since I’ve done this reading challenge, though, I’ve been a diligent little reader. I’ve also enjoyed looking at trends in my reading, and have been purposeful about what I read (primarily people of color, primarily women, a lot of living authors). I usually gravitate toward fiction because I love to lose myself in a story, but I’ve also been pushing myself to read more nonfiction.
As I’ve succeeded in my quest to mix it up with nonfiction, though, I’ve noticed that when I turn back to my comfortable, beloved fiction, I haven’t really been “reading like a writer,” if you know what I mean.
As a creative writing major, I spent years in college reading like a writer, like an artist. In workshops, we’d discuss the use of a comma versus a semi-colon for a whole class. As I’ve told high school students many times, in college, I would write a five-page paper all about the author’s use of the color pink (yes, I’m talking about you, Faulkner). Although I tell that story as a joke, the truth is that I loved that process; I never found it tiresome to dissect a piece. My thesis advisor in undergrad, Micheline Marcom, always said that the writers were our mentors, their work the lessons and conversations. Though they may be long gone, they speak to us and teach us through their work.
And I got a lot from letting those authors mentor me. I loved communing with masters! But lately I find that I’ve been a passive reader. I’ve been focusing on plot, primarily, not that that’s bad at all, but it’s just that I want to stretch that writerly, artist muscle again. So, today’s prompt is lifted wholesale from Micheline’s approach to writing workshops. Let it be a moment to read like a writer and connect with your mentor.
prompt #38:
Grab a book or song or poem or essay or whatever that speaks to you. Maybe you think of it as the writing (or feeling) you aspire to reach in your own work. Maybe you came across it recently and it struck you, or maybe you found it long ago and it’s stayed with you ever since.
Read the piece, or an excerpt of it depending on how long it is, for a little bit. I won’t give you a time on this because it’ll vary for each of us.
And as you read, read like a writer. See like an artist. What is the author doing with rhythm, language, diction? Is there something happening with rhyme or line spacing? How about the use (or lack thereof) of punctuation? Is there dialogue? How does their voice come through?
After you’ve read and thought a little and “been mentored,” now is your chance to write. This is not meant to be a straight emulation of their writing style or approach. Instead, take one or two of the techniques or approaches you noted and see how it looks in your style. How can you take a kernel of inspiration and make it your own?
And, as always, feel free to send it my way if you’d like to share it out next week!
ashley's piece:
I haven’t visited in years, though not on purpose. I guess it happens kind of accidentally. First, I missed a Christmas because I had to work right up to the day before and it felt like a cross-country trip would be more trouble than it was worth. And then I took a vacation with Kit instead of heading back. It’s not that I don’t love my parents, of course, but it’s a little easier to love them from afar. And they’d prefer traveling out to see me, if it means they can take a vacation. They’re the kind of people who don’t want to see their kid in the same old town doing the same old thing. To them, success is measured by how much of the world you see. When I told them I was moving to New York, they practically buzzed with excitement and envy.