Yes to this! I find the question “is it good?” to be nearly useless. So much if what goes into us believing something is good is down to taste. I have a dear friend and we have such diametrically opposed taste in books that one of us loving a book guarantees the other will hate it. So is one of us “wrong?” I don’t think so. I don’t want to write that way as the style doesn’t appeal to me.
Sometimes it makes more sense to me to think about award-winning work that leaves me cold in a different context, like music. I think of some writing like prog rock- that corner of music that is technically very difficult to play, but which I find boring. Musicians listen and say “damn!” and are generally impressed but it doesn’t make me feel anything, so I don’t listen to it. Perhaps this is an aspect of what some writers are doing- stopping a story in an odd place, which didn’t feel right to you as a reader looked like a tricky scale to the award committee.
Love these thoughts Sonal- thank you for sharing this one! 💗
Yes! Good is irrelevant. There's no universal standard of good. There's craft and whether or not a writer fulfills their intention on a page, and there are risks and inventiveness with craft, but so much is down to personal, individual taste.
Some books that I find really good are not particularly inventive in terms of craft, but rather do a pretty standard structure really, really well. And personally, I love that about them, that they are so tightly and cleanly structured. They will never win awards. It's a beautifully tailored black blazer that will never walk a runway, but is in my closet because it looks amazing with everything.
“Why am I good?” The million dollar question. I like this reframe very much, even if it’s hard to answer. I’m reading a Pulitzer Prize novel right now (recommended by a writer friend/teacher I hold in high regard) and it’s taking me ages to get through it. This is not my norm—I can typically rip through a novel of any size in 7-10 days. But I’m struggling with this one. The writing is beautiful and lyrical (my typical jam) but the story and pacing and characters are creating stumbling blocks for me. So I’m trying to focus on the parts I like: the magical turns of phrase, the heartbreaking detail. Stuff that resonates with me, that if / when I write this way, shows me the “why” (am I good). ☺️
I have a pair of books that I experience kind of like this. One is absolutely beautiful on its technical aspect. I can tell the author pored over every word, and every sentence, crafting them with diligence and care for hours and hours and hours, tweaking and turning each sentence over in their heart until it was absolutely perfect. And it was such a miserable read. I didn't know why I was supposed to care about these characters, I kept forgetting them when their scenes were over. I wasn't clear on what the story was and I kept wading through description after description wondering how many different ways you can describe an old house and an ocean shore. I cut the book up to make a jewelry box after I finished it after about 5 years.
There is another that really isn't that great writing, its very mediocre, but I LOVE those books. I ate up the first one, then immediately looked for the rest of the series. I'm generally not a re-reader but I re-read the first book three times and still think about those story plots and wonder whats up for those characters and wonder about certain choices and wonder HOW THE HECK they managed to weave all the plot points of the story line together like they did. It made me a hungry hungry hippo. I'm not saying they didn't work hard on their book, but they didn't work so hard in a way that it absolutely drove it into its grave in terms of capturing me as a reader.
this really hits with me because I am struggling with this as a poet. Sometimes I will look at curation and think, wow! amazing. And sometimes I will look at lit mag examples and be like...I...I really don't get it. I don't understand what was so powerful here. I very much am not engaged at all by this piece.
And because the curators, you know, are curators, they are the people who do this all the time. They are the people who see many poems, or work at a long established piece, or are in a guided MFA or just generally know what they want and their guidelines are very specific they only want your best, I have been assuming its me. *Especially* when the piece types seem to be the it thing at litmags.
I've been examining, turning over, dissecting rebuilding and hungrily looking for mags that explain why they selected a piece, what struck them, what engaged them* so I can figure out why I have such uneducated and such sarah-her-first-time-in-the-Labyrinth taste. I'm searching for my tea worm.
But honestly, the take, write and discover your voice is probably the solid advice.
*I also do on a personal level find that --outside of trying to understand the mysterious black box algorithm in the mind of editors-- poetry is just in general more enjoyable when I can connect with it on a social level -meaning either why readers liked it/found it meaningful or what writers were thinking behinded it, especially when it includes a reading. This is why I like soft workshops (not the kind where we are eviscerating work) and mags that have a podcast or a blurb by the writers or editors, or just fans. Because it brings me closer to pieces - even pieces I think are pretty good or even smashing.
I think this is more pronounced in poetry, that you have to lean into what you love and there will always be highly regarded poetry that simply doesn't do anything for you.
Your best is the work that feels truest to your own instincts. That blows your own head off the most.
As an author myself, I feel a real resonance with this post. It reminds me of how I judge photographs. If it's just a nice picture but doesn't make me feel anything much, it's a snapshot. If it makes me feel something, and especially if I can name that something, it's a photograph.
Yes to this! I find the question “is it good?” to be nearly useless. So much if what goes into us believing something is good is down to taste. I have a dear friend and we have such diametrically opposed taste in books that one of us loving a book guarantees the other will hate it. So is one of us “wrong?” I don’t think so. I don’t want to write that way as the style doesn’t appeal to me.
Sometimes it makes more sense to me to think about award-winning work that leaves me cold in a different context, like music. I think of some writing like prog rock- that corner of music that is technically very difficult to play, but which I find boring. Musicians listen and say “damn!” and are generally impressed but it doesn’t make me feel anything, so I don’t listen to it. Perhaps this is an aspect of what some writers are doing- stopping a story in an odd place, which didn’t feel right to you as a reader looked like a tricky scale to the award committee.
Love these thoughts Sonal- thank you for sharing this one! 💗
Yes! Good is irrelevant. There's no universal standard of good. There's craft and whether or not a writer fulfills their intention on a page, and there are risks and inventiveness with craft, but so much is down to personal, individual taste.
Some books that I find really good are not particularly inventive in terms of craft, but rather do a pretty standard structure really, really well. And personally, I love that about them, that they are so tightly and cleanly structured. They will never win awards. It's a beautifully tailored black blazer that will never walk a runway, but is in my closet because it looks amazing with everything.
Yay for black blazers! I love them too. 💗
“Why am I good?” The million dollar question. I like this reframe very much, even if it’s hard to answer. I’m reading a Pulitzer Prize novel right now (recommended by a writer friend/teacher I hold in high regard) and it’s taking me ages to get through it. This is not my norm—I can typically rip through a novel of any size in 7-10 days. But I’m struggling with this one. The writing is beautiful and lyrical (my typical jam) but the story and pacing and characters are creating stumbling blocks for me. So I’m trying to focus on the parts I like: the magical turns of phrase, the heartbreaking detail. Stuff that resonates with me, that if / when I write this way, shows me the “why” (am I good). ☺️
I have a pair of books that I experience kind of like this. One is absolutely beautiful on its technical aspect. I can tell the author pored over every word, and every sentence, crafting them with diligence and care for hours and hours and hours, tweaking and turning each sentence over in their heart until it was absolutely perfect. And it was such a miserable read. I didn't know why I was supposed to care about these characters, I kept forgetting them when their scenes were over. I wasn't clear on what the story was and I kept wading through description after description wondering how many different ways you can describe an old house and an ocean shore. I cut the book up to make a jewelry box after I finished it after about 5 years.
There is another that really isn't that great writing, its very mediocre, but I LOVE those books. I ate up the first one, then immediately looked for the rest of the series. I'm generally not a re-reader but I re-read the first book three times and still think about those story plots and wonder whats up for those characters and wonder about certain choices and wonder HOW THE HECK they managed to weave all the plot points of the story line together like they did. It made me a hungry hungry hippo. I'm not saying they didn't work hard on their book, but they didn't work so hard in a way that it absolutely drove it into its grave in terms of capturing me as a reader.
this really hits with me because I am struggling with this as a poet. Sometimes I will look at curation and think, wow! amazing. And sometimes I will look at lit mag examples and be like...I...I really don't get it. I don't understand what was so powerful here. I very much am not engaged at all by this piece.
And because the curators, you know, are curators, they are the people who do this all the time. They are the people who see many poems, or work at a long established piece, or are in a guided MFA or just generally know what they want and their guidelines are very specific they only want your best, I have been assuming its me. *Especially* when the piece types seem to be the it thing at litmags.
I've been examining, turning over, dissecting rebuilding and hungrily looking for mags that explain why they selected a piece, what struck them, what engaged them* so I can figure out why I have such uneducated and such sarah-her-first-time-in-the-Labyrinth taste. I'm searching for my tea worm.
But honestly, the take, write and discover your voice is probably the solid advice.
*I also do on a personal level find that --outside of trying to understand the mysterious black box algorithm in the mind of editors-- poetry is just in general more enjoyable when I can connect with it on a social level -meaning either why readers liked it/found it meaningful or what writers were thinking behinded it, especially when it includes a reading. This is why I like soft workshops (not the kind where we are eviscerating work) and mags that have a podcast or a blurb by the writers or editors, or just fans. Because it brings me closer to pieces - even pieces I think are pretty good or even smashing.
I think this is more pronounced in poetry, that you have to lean into what you love and there will always be highly regarded poetry that simply doesn't do anything for you.
Your best is the work that feels truest to your own instincts. That blows your own head off the most.
Saw this link in Story Club.
I found the way you frame this to be helpful to me.
Thanks for lightening my load on this topic for a spell.
Glad it helped!
As an author myself, I feel a real resonance with this post. It reminds me of how I judge photographs. If it's just a nice picture but doesn't make me feel anything much, it's a snapshot. If it makes me feel something, and especially if I can name that something, it's a photograph.