We meet every six weeks or so, a group of writers who formed a
book club out of friendship and need.
Our purpose? To read
currently published works, analyze their composition, and discuss the craft
from a writer’s perspective. By studying published authors, one can learn what
to do and what not to do.
In the last two years, we have reviewed seventeen books, hoping
that what we have learned will strengthen our own writing.
Instead of offering a rated list, I would like to share my
observations on what worked and what didn’t.
1. Bel
Canto by Ann Patchett and Room by
Emma Donoghue are excellent examples of how to present unpleasant, uncomfortable, and realistic topics through well-written, fascinating exposition. Both exemplify strong, sympathetic protagonists and continuous, forward action.
The Ark by Boyd
Morrison is a graphic, fast-paced race against time. None of the main
characters muster any sympathy and its title is nothing more than a commercial,
red herring.
2.
Four
lengthy tomes – The Forgotten Garden
and The Distant Hours by Kate Morton,
The Thirteenth Tale by Diane
Setterfield, and The Weird Sisters by
Eleanor Brown – juggle multiple plots,
characters, and varying time lines with finesse. They end
realistically and offer fascinating resolutions.
The
Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs and The Homecoming of Samuel Lake by Jenny Wingfield are padded with
extraneous characters and secondary story lines that have nothing to do with
the whole, thus weakening the plot with their ponderous length and distracting the
reader from the true story.
3.
The Help by
Katherine Stockett has amazing characters,
both good and bad. The strength of the plot and its realistic, heart-wrenching ending make
it a satisfying read.
A book with a similar plot line, The Space between Us by Thrity Umrigar
has characters who are about as engaging as newspaper copy, and the ending is mentioned
so subtly that the reader overlooks it in the first read through and has to go
back and hunt for it.
4.
The Book
Thief by Markus Zusak expertly
uses rhetorical devices, creating beautiful
and haunting visuals on each page. His use of synesthesia is exemplary, as
is his cold and horrifying personification of death.
After reading The River by Michael Neale, I may never again use the extended
metaphor.
5.
Abraham
Lincoln: Vampire Slayer by Seth Grahame-Smith and Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by
Alan Bradley offer new and refreshing twists
in their genres. One plays with our
knowledge of history; the other questions our knowledge of science. In both cases, every effort is made to make the
stories plausible and convincing.
In The
Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde and The
Heroines by Eileen Favorite, fictional characters come to life and interact
with people in the real world, but how and why they are able to do so is never
explained. No effort is made to give a
plausible or convincing premise, so the reader never cares about the characters
or their outcomes. Oddly, these famous characters were three-dimensional in
their books, but become one-dimensional the moment they become real. It’s like
playing with paper dolls; we never suspend our belief.
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