AS a general rule I don't read synopsizes. Though usually accurate, they are almost always misleading. The reason is understandable- the author or editor wishes to give you a general idea of the characters and events to come, but they don't want to give everything away, and of course the problem with being vague, even if it is for good reasons, is that the window of interpretation is much, much wider and you can never be sure what the viewer will focus on.
My habit of not reading the synopsis in part came from generally loving books as a child and possessing a willingness to read almost anything I could get my hands on. In fact, I'm not even sure at which point I became aware that books even had synopsizes. The other part can be attributed to the fact that when I did start reading them (synopsizes) they either left me confused or disappointed or made the story itself sound hollow and basic.
I soon found - and many an assigned reading if not taught me such, confirmed it - that the only way to really determine if I would enjoy a book was to start reading it. This had lead me to peruse bookstores in a way that I'm more than aware the majority doesn't. I have found others who do it or do something similar (I was an English major and an MFA grad for crying out loud), but I have noticed that the vast majority does it in a much different way- sniffing out something specific that was recommended by friend or celebrity, stopping only at the best-seller or featured/recommended racks, or grabbing after things with interesting titles, giving the the synopsis a quick once over before dropping it back on the shelf or taking it up to the register, buying it in tandem with perhaps a calender or candy bar (having only come for the coffee at the back of the store in the first place anyway).
Perhaps these people are perfectly satisfied with their purchases and perhaps there is nothing wrong with this grabby, narrow bookstore sprint-a-thon, but I can't help but wonder how much more satisfied they'd be if they gave the process a bit more time and a bit more attention. If they even gave the books themselves, the covers and spines and fonts, a bit of visual admiration.
Granted, finding the perfect read is not always easy. Sometimes I feel like it is like trying to introduce yourself to someone new in public or that it has that same kind of mix of uneasiness and excitement as recreationally perusing an online dating site. A bookstore can be intimidating. Even to a pro. All those books, all those pages. Where do you start? They look so long, they'll take so much time... But like anything books need to be approached one step at a time, or rather, one word at a time, one sentence, one page. In other words start simple.
I go to the shelves and look. Admittedly, I will just as often pick a book for its cover or look and feel as I will its title or author. Though you certainly can't judge all books by their covers, I think that, of late, designers and publishers have gotten a little better at presenting the correct tone or feel, and (perhaps this is the "and Publishing Arts" part of my MFA speaking but) I can still appreciate a well designed and crafted book, even if I have zero interest in the contents. Some books I have found, if you remove the expected and mass produced dust jackets, actually have quite beautiful covers with varying textures and eye catching imprinted words or images. And, one semester of typography has "ruined" me for life, making me poke around inside to see how good the font selection and use of white space is.
This feeling of a well designed, well cared for book, is really quite wonderful. If you have never paid attention to such things, you really should. Every book or type of book has a certain feel, a certain heft. From cheap, thick paper backs to hefty hardcover best sellers. So my first step is simply to look, to pick up and enjoy.
It is this feeling of a book that keeps me away from devices such as the Nook or Kobo and the lack of which that makes online book shopping far less fun. Though these offer another way to get into literature, are popular, and often will offer a "see inside" feature while shopping, they just don't recreate that physical feeling of having the thing, or being in the actual bookstore.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against e-books in particular and I have read my share of online only journals and blogs and have even found a good read on Google Books or some old literature site, but part of what I love about reading is holding the book in my hand, turning the pages, fiddling with bookmarks during engaging scenes, holding my breath in momentary anticipation as my mind pauses for a brief second as I turn the page and my eyes relocate the narrative... and though this may seem contradictory to my love of the design of books, I actually have very few that I try to keep in pristine condition.
My husband tries to keep all of his books neat and clean, the pages unbent or tore. He was the one who taught me to take dust jackets off so that they didn't tear while reading. And, he is baffled by my seeming mistreatment of my own books. He doesn't understand how I can leave them open and face down, using the floor or table as a book mark, he gets a bit miffed when he sees me eat a snack or my lunch over the book that I am reading, perhaps dripping a bit of sauce or beverage on the outer pages. He scolds me constantly for leaving them in the bathroom or on the couch, sometimes even in the bed.
The truth is I like to get them a little worn, a little damaged. Though it took me years and the forceful suggestion of many an English teacher before I would start to write in them, I always allowed my books to get little battle scars. I like the evidence of my adventure. This book, this pile of glue and paper and ink, is the only physical proof of the amazing journey I have taken within my mind. I like to flip through them, pause at their stains and tears, and remember where I was when it happened, what else was going on in my life.
While a Nook or Kobo may present me the journey again, it will never help recreate the feeling of the first time. In short, they're just too darn durable.
At any rate, picking the book up in the store gives me a preview of what the actual physical experience will be like as well: Will this be a book I fit in my purse and read in the doctor's office or between classes? Will this be easy to hold up while reading in bed? Will the cover curl from my constant folding and flipping?
Though it may seem a bit silly, the feel and type of the book- even the font size- does effect your reading experience. Imagine if the text is too small to read or crammed so tightly on the page you get a headache after just 20 minutes? Or it is too bulky to carry with you when you have time to read or is too easy for your dog to eat... etc. etc.
Anyway, whatever the format however, it is the story itself, the words, that matter.
Which is why, after choosing a book on the title or look, I go straight to page one and start reading. I don't look at the back or the inside flap. I'm not interested in any of that "first date" flimsy representation. I want to get to know it right away. (Maybe this is why I have difficultly getting small talk going with people I intend to befriend. hmm...) If after 7-10 pages, if I am still reading, still interested, I snap it shut, add it to the "keeper" pile and move on, repeating the process until my arms are full or my husband drags me half consciously from the center stacks (if I've even made it that far in) to the front of the store where we can pay before I overload and break the bank.
Doing it this way gives me a better feel for what the book is actually about, lets me be surprised more often and more easily, doesn't allow me to get any (at least not too many) false expectations, and lets me just absorb the story for what it is. It also, I have found, has allowed me to open up and try more things, new things, different things, unexpected things.
After years of reading, I feel that I am both harder to please and easier to please. The books I take home with me range in genre, style, length, period, and the cashiers probably think I have collected a nice pile of gifts for a small group of friends and family members rather then that I will be taking them home to read them all myself. For years in fact, I didn't think there was any connection between what I liked to read (or for that matter, what I liked to write), but after teaching 102 and having students - sometimes unprompted- point out unexpected, similar themes or styles between pieces that I picked because I thought one thing would connect, has made me realize that its not that I don't have a specific interest(s), but that it is simply harder to name and has more to do with theme than anything else.
Regardless, it is this idea that I didn't know, this vagueness about what precisely it was I was looking for, that allowed me to open up and experience things I never would have other wise and has given me great experience in reading (I mean that both ways). I am more open to trying new things than I was in the past, but I also expect more from my books- be they fiction or non. I still enjoy the occasional junk food for the brain, but if so, it still needs to me excite me some other way, at least emotionally through suspense.
At the beginning of 102, I give my students a quote by Bruno Bettelheim: "The ability to read becomes devalued when what one has learned to read adds nothing of importance to one's life."
I think this is very true, and I think it applies to anything that fits that description to you be it Virgil, Suess, King, or S. Meyer. If you had any kind of connection with it, then it matters, it is important, it is a part of you, and you have learned something. Literature, after all, gives a strikingly honest and complex insight into the human condition-- whether we are conscious of it or not. It accomplishes something, in other words, that a little 500 words synopsis simply cannot prepare us for.
I think this connection is what many people miss when they think of reading. I think too many people are stuck on the idea that reading in and of itself is boring and aggravating because they base it off of all the forced assignments they had to do in school, all the textbook chapters on subjects they were only marginally interested in, and on instructional material that isn't (though it could be argued it really should be) made to engage only to inform. And even if along the way one or two of the novels they were forced to read in high school (though many of which are tragic and dramatic and occasionally beyond their currently social-infused teenaged brains' level of comprehension) catches their attention or peaks their interest, by the time they reach college or adulthood, all of the other stuff has drowned it out.
And perhaps it is this misguided outlook reading [that most of it is boring or difficult] that creates the bookstore sprinters. Those "other" shoppers are so caught up on the idea that so few things are good, they feel they must focus on recommendation or an easily recognizable plot or character they would be interested in. But I have found many a book that while the synopsis was interesting, the story itself- the way it was told, the themes and life lessons- just didn't do it for me. I just couldn't connect on the emotional level necessary. There is simply more to literature than an interesting plot or character. There isn't a word for it.
Perhaps it is even this lack of understanding of this thing which creates the dangerous misconception that we can trust a synopsis, cover, or celebrity recommendation. In truth, movie previews are more telling (and arguably, though those do a better job, even they can be highly misleading as they are often cut to highlight only the parts guaranteed to generate discussion).
This misconception [or misguided trust] leads the majority into picking books they're disappointed in. Gosh, they think, I didn't like this even though I like horses- or fairys- or I was in the navy- or I thought this author was supposed to be really good- or the title was so funny!-- or whatever superficial reason it is they picked up the book, and think, if this didn't work, I must actually just not like reading that much.
In short, predicting enjoyment of a book based off a recommendation or synopsis alone causes a few bad choices-- but they don't know that the way they are picking is problem, so they keep doing it until they eventually give up all together [mistakenly blaming their taste in the act of reading] and, at best, they wait for the movie.
But this can be changed, if only people are more informed.
I saw a commercial the other day that showed many different people of different ages, races, and backgrounds reading in many different places. They read books and they read Nooks. A nice little poem was the voice over that proclaimed that by book or by nook they would read and keep reading. It was such an oddity. A nice oddity, but an oddity nonetheless. It was likely fueled by wanting to promote Nook sales more than anything, but the message was still clear-- reading is good, reading is fun, reading is important, reading is a part of our lives-- and it was an oddity. It is a shame that such a message should be an oddity.
On the other hand, in recent years, and maybe it is just people I know, but people do seem to be reading more. I half wonder if Harry Potter had anything to do with this, actually, but I think perhaps the desire to sell the e-readers is also helping. This is a good thing, and there is certainly a reason for it.
The fact is, people have been predicting the death of print materials, and even the death of reading and literature all together, for decades, yet it prevails and if anything seems to be growing stronger.( After all, if nothing else, it is hard to use the internet if you can't read.) And the reason is, because there are still people out there who are connecting with books. They're finding that it factor be it a cheesy romance novel or a paper back classic. And while so many people do miss it, misguided by recommendation or synopsis, the ones who do are caught and are caught good. There is simply nothing like getting literally, mentally sucked in to a good book, the book that is right for you. It is so wonderful and inexplicable that we keep returning for more, slowly becoming better and better at narrowing down the ones that will do it for us. We return, we encourage our friends, and while many may fail, along the way some discover it, pass it down to their kids.
I welcome it. I welcome the readers both new and old, and I hope that even more people join. I hope that even more people get to know a good book, for what it really is. But to do that, they're going to need to take the time to find the books that work for them, by perusing and fondling the books.
While certain stores are removing chairs and trying to make the atmosphere less inviting, trying to lesson the numbers of people who finger up the merchandise (though you'll notice this seldom stops the true bookie from flopping down in the aisle or leaning against a case), the stores need to reconsider. A bookstore should feel like home, or at the very least inviting. Though speed dating may be popular, it seldom gets the same results as a nice, planned first date preceded by a bit of flirting in a welcoming location. A person needs time to read more than the synopsis; they need time to get to know the book, to want to take it home and go to bed with it. (Extended pun unintended.) If given this, they're much more likely to be satisfied, or at least not feel completely regretful about their purchase, and to come back for more.
More likely to find a book that will make them laugh, smile, cry, and think. More likely to share it with their family and friends. More likely to carry it with them and sneak it in on their lunch break or while waiting in line. More likely to read it carefully. More likely to stain and tare the pages. More likely to remember it.
As I said, I know not everyone feels the way I do about books, but I think a greater number than you might think feels opposite only due to poor exposure and experience-- not because books have something narrow to offer. With all the subjects and styles out there they can hardly be called exclusive.
They are merely each waiting for their perfect reader to come and find them, take them home, and give just as much meaning back to them as they are ready to give away themselves.
My habit of not reading the synopsis in part came from generally loving books as a child and possessing a willingness to read almost anything I could get my hands on. In fact, I'm not even sure at which point I became aware that books even had synopsizes. The other part can be attributed to the fact that when I did start reading them (synopsizes) they either left me confused or disappointed or made the story itself sound hollow and basic.
I soon found - and many an assigned reading if not taught me such, confirmed it - that the only way to really determine if I would enjoy a book was to start reading it. This had lead me to peruse bookstores in a way that I'm more than aware the majority doesn't. I have found others who do it or do something similar (I was an English major and an MFA grad for crying out loud), but I have noticed that the vast majority does it in a much different way- sniffing out something specific that was recommended by friend or celebrity, stopping only at the best-seller or featured/recommended racks, or grabbing after things with interesting titles, giving the the synopsis a quick once over before dropping it back on the shelf or taking it up to the register, buying it in tandem with perhaps a calender or candy bar (having only come for the coffee at the back of the store in the first place anyway).
Perhaps these people are perfectly satisfied with their purchases and perhaps there is nothing wrong with this grabby, narrow bookstore sprint-a-thon, but I can't help but wonder how much more satisfied they'd be if they gave the process a bit more time and a bit more attention. If they even gave the books themselves, the covers and spines and fonts, a bit of visual admiration.
Granted, finding the perfect read is not always easy. Sometimes I feel like it is like trying to introduce yourself to someone new in public or that it has that same kind of mix of uneasiness and excitement as recreationally perusing an online dating site. A bookstore can be intimidating. Even to a pro. All those books, all those pages. Where do you start? They look so long, they'll take so much time... But like anything books need to be approached one step at a time, or rather, one word at a time, one sentence, one page. In other words start simple.
I go to the shelves and look. Admittedly, I will just as often pick a book for its cover or look and feel as I will its title or author. Though you certainly can't judge all books by their covers, I think that, of late, designers and publishers have gotten a little better at presenting the correct tone or feel, and (perhaps this is the "and Publishing Arts" part of my MFA speaking but) I can still appreciate a well designed and crafted book, even if I have zero interest in the contents. Some books I have found, if you remove the expected and mass produced dust jackets, actually have quite beautiful covers with varying textures and eye catching imprinted words or images. And, one semester of typography has "ruined" me for life, making me poke around inside to see how good the font selection and use of white space is.
This feeling of a well designed, well cared for book, is really quite wonderful. If you have never paid attention to such things, you really should. Every book or type of book has a certain feel, a certain heft. From cheap, thick paper backs to hefty hardcover best sellers. So my first step is simply to look, to pick up and enjoy.
It is this feeling of a book that keeps me away from devices such as the Nook or Kobo and the lack of which that makes online book shopping far less fun. Though these offer another way to get into literature, are popular, and often will offer a "see inside" feature while shopping, they just don't recreate that physical feeling of having the thing, or being in the actual bookstore.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against e-books in particular and I have read my share of online only journals and blogs and have even found a good read on Google Books or some old literature site, but part of what I love about reading is holding the book in my hand, turning the pages, fiddling with bookmarks during engaging scenes, holding my breath in momentary anticipation as my mind pauses for a brief second as I turn the page and my eyes relocate the narrative... and though this may seem contradictory to my love of the design of books, I actually have very few that I try to keep in pristine condition.
My husband tries to keep all of his books neat and clean, the pages unbent or tore. He was the one who taught me to take dust jackets off so that they didn't tear while reading. And, he is baffled by my seeming mistreatment of my own books. He doesn't understand how I can leave them open and face down, using the floor or table as a book mark, he gets a bit miffed when he sees me eat a snack or my lunch over the book that I am reading, perhaps dripping a bit of sauce or beverage on the outer pages. He scolds me constantly for leaving them in the bathroom or on the couch, sometimes even in the bed.
The truth is I like to get them a little worn, a little damaged. Though it took me years and the forceful suggestion of many an English teacher before I would start to write in them, I always allowed my books to get little battle scars. I like the evidence of my adventure. This book, this pile of glue and paper and ink, is the only physical proof of the amazing journey I have taken within my mind. I like to flip through them, pause at their stains and tears, and remember where I was when it happened, what else was going on in my life.
While a Nook or Kobo may present me the journey again, it will never help recreate the feeling of the first time. In short, they're just too darn durable.
At any rate, picking the book up in the store gives me a preview of what the actual physical experience will be like as well: Will this be a book I fit in my purse and read in the doctor's office or between classes? Will this be easy to hold up while reading in bed? Will the cover curl from my constant folding and flipping?
Though it may seem a bit silly, the feel and type of the book- even the font size- does effect your reading experience. Imagine if the text is too small to read or crammed so tightly on the page you get a headache after just 20 minutes? Or it is too bulky to carry with you when you have time to read or is too easy for your dog to eat... etc. etc.
Anyway, whatever the format however, it is the story itself, the words, that matter.
Which is why, after choosing a book on the title or look, I go straight to page one and start reading. I don't look at the back or the inside flap. I'm not interested in any of that "first date" flimsy representation. I want to get to know it right away. (Maybe this is why I have difficultly getting small talk going with people I intend to befriend. hmm...) If after 7-10 pages, if I am still reading, still interested, I snap it shut, add it to the "keeper" pile and move on, repeating the process until my arms are full or my husband drags me half consciously from the center stacks (if I've even made it that far in) to the front of the store where we can pay before I overload and break the bank.
Doing it this way gives me a better feel for what the book is actually about, lets me be surprised more often and more easily, doesn't allow me to get any (at least not too many) false expectations, and lets me just absorb the story for what it is. It also, I have found, has allowed me to open up and try more things, new things, different things, unexpected things.
After years of reading, I feel that I am both harder to please and easier to please. The books I take home with me range in genre, style, length, period, and the cashiers probably think I have collected a nice pile of gifts for a small group of friends and family members rather then that I will be taking them home to read them all myself. For years in fact, I didn't think there was any connection between what I liked to read (or for that matter, what I liked to write), but after teaching 102 and having students - sometimes unprompted- point out unexpected, similar themes or styles between pieces that I picked because I thought one thing would connect, has made me realize that its not that I don't have a specific interest(s), but that it is simply harder to name and has more to do with theme than anything else.
Regardless, it is this idea that I didn't know, this vagueness about what precisely it was I was looking for, that allowed me to open up and experience things I never would have other wise and has given me great experience in reading (I mean that both ways). I am more open to trying new things than I was in the past, but I also expect more from my books- be they fiction or non. I still enjoy the occasional junk food for the brain, but if so, it still needs to me excite me some other way, at least emotionally through suspense.
At the beginning of 102, I give my students a quote by Bruno Bettelheim: "The ability to read becomes devalued when what one has learned to read adds nothing of importance to one's life."
I think this is very true, and I think it applies to anything that fits that description to you be it Virgil, Suess, King, or S. Meyer. If you had any kind of connection with it, then it matters, it is important, it is a part of you, and you have learned something. Literature, after all, gives a strikingly honest and complex insight into the human condition-- whether we are conscious of it or not. It accomplishes something, in other words, that a little 500 words synopsis simply cannot prepare us for.
I think this connection is what many people miss when they think of reading. I think too many people are stuck on the idea that reading in and of itself is boring and aggravating because they base it off of all the forced assignments they had to do in school, all the textbook chapters on subjects they were only marginally interested in, and on instructional material that isn't (though it could be argued it really should be) made to engage only to inform. And even if along the way one or two of the novels they were forced to read in high school (though many of which are tragic and dramatic and occasionally beyond their currently social-infused teenaged brains' level of comprehension) catches their attention or peaks their interest, by the time they reach college or adulthood, all of the other stuff has drowned it out.
And perhaps it is this misguided outlook reading [that most of it is boring or difficult] that creates the bookstore sprinters. Those "other" shoppers are so caught up on the idea that so few things are good, they feel they must focus on recommendation or an easily recognizable plot or character they would be interested in. But I have found many a book that while the synopsis was interesting, the story itself- the way it was told, the themes and life lessons- just didn't do it for me. I just couldn't connect on the emotional level necessary. There is simply more to literature than an interesting plot or character. There isn't a word for it.
Perhaps it is even this lack of understanding of this thing which creates the dangerous misconception that we can trust a synopsis, cover, or celebrity recommendation. In truth, movie previews are more telling (and arguably, though those do a better job, even they can be highly misleading as they are often cut to highlight only the parts guaranteed to generate discussion).
This misconception [or misguided trust] leads the majority into picking books they're disappointed in. Gosh, they think, I didn't like this even though I like horses- or fairys- or I was in the navy- or I thought this author was supposed to be really good- or the title was so funny!-- or whatever superficial reason it is they picked up the book, and think, if this didn't work, I must actually just not like reading that much.
In short, predicting enjoyment of a book based off a recommendation or synopsis alone causes a few bad choices-- but they don't know that the way they are picking is problem, so they keep doing it until they eventually give up all together [mistakenly blaming their taste in the act of reading] and, at best, they wait for the movie.
But this can be changed, if only people are more informed.
I saw a commercial the other day that showed many different people of different ages, races, and backgrounds reading in many different places. They read books and they read Nooks. A nice little poem was the voice over that proclaimed that by book or by nook they would read and keep reading. It was such an oddity. A nice oddity, but an oddity nonetheless. It was likely fueled by wanting to promote Nook sales more than anything, but the message was still clear-- reading is good, reading is fun, reading is important, reading is a part of our lives-- and it was an oddity. It is a shame that such a message should be an oddity.
On the other hand, in recent years, and maybe it is just people I know, but people do seem to be reading more. I half wonder if Harry Potter had anything to do with this, actually, but I think perhaps the desire to sell the e-readers is also helping. This is a good thing, and there is certainly a reason for it.
The fact is, people have been predicting the death of print materials, and even the death of reading and literature all together, for decades, yet it prevails and if anything seems to be growing stronger.( After all, if nothing else, it is hard to use the internet if you can't read.) And the reason is, because there are still people out there who are connecting with books. They're finding that it factor be it a cheesy romance novel or a paper back classic. And while so many people do miss it, misguided by recommendation or synopsis, the ones who do are caught and are caught good. There is simply nothing like getting literally, mentally sucked in to a good book, the book that is right for you. It is so wonderful and inexplicable that we keep returning for more, slowly becoming better and better at narrowing down the ones that will do it for us. We return, we encourage our friends, and while many may fail, along the way some discover it, pass it down to their kids.
I welcome it. I welcome the readers both new and old, and I hope that even more people join. I hope that even more people get to know a good book, for what it really is. But to do that, they're going to need to take the time to find the books that work for them, by perusing and fondling the books.
While certain stores are removing chairs and trying to make the atmosphere less inviting, trying to lesson the numbers of people who finger up the merchandise (though you'll notice this seldom stops the true bookie from flopping down in the aisle or leaning against a case), the stores need to reconsider. A bookstore should feel like home, or at the very least inviting. Though speed dating may be popular, it seldom gets the same results as a nice, planned first date preceded by a bit of flirting in a welcoming location. A person needs time to read more than the synopsis; they need time to get to know the book, to want to take it home and go to bed with it. (Extended pun unintended.) If given this, they're much more likely to be satisfied, or at least not feel completely regretful about their purchase, and to come back for more.
More likely to find a book that will make them laugh, smile, cry, and think. More likely to share it with their family and friends. More likely to carry it with them and sneak it in on their lunch break or while waiting in line. More likely to read it carefully. More likely to stain and tare the pages. More likely to remember it.
As I said, I know not everyone feels the way I do about books, but I think a greater number than you might think feels opposite only due to poor exposure and experience-- not because books have something narrow to offer. With all the subjects and styles out there they can hardly be called exclusive.
They are merely each waiting for their perfect reader to come and find them, take them home, and give just as much meaning back to them as they are ready to give away themselves.
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