READING TO WRITE

by Deborah Elliott-Upton

Writers face consistent pressure to produce a certain amount of pages per day. Talk about performance anxiety! Sure, we force this stress on ourselves as often as we accept deadlines, but that doesn’t make it any less traumatic. For those of us who write every day, you’d think the apprehension would ease when a story is finished, but that isn’t always true—another storyline always tugs the line to be explored. Sometimes the writing is good. Sometimes it needs something to revive it from a comatose state where the words lay on the page as flat and lifeless as a fish too-long out of the water. Sometimes, we need to take a break and get inspiration from words written by someone else.

Recently, in The Criminal Element, a newsletter from MacMillan Publishers, Bill Pronzini was asked since he’d edited a lot of anthologies if reading other writers has helped with his own writing. Pronzini answered, “I did a lot of anthologies early on, for a couple of reasons. One was the money—you need to get as much income as you can as a writer—but also it was a pleasure to get some obscure stories back into print. I was influenced by a lot of writers early on. For instance, I learned how to write dialogue from reading Evan Hunter [who also wrote as Ed McBain], who had a marvelous ear. He could get so much character in short lines of dialogue, exchanges between people. I get ideas by reading other people’s work; it triggers things in my imagination and I’m able to develop stories I write a lot of short stories.”

For me, writing short stories has been the answer when my novel is being blocked one way or another. Perhaps my plot is lagging or the characters seem less interesting or I don’t know where the mystery is going next.

My Muse occasionally takes an unannounced holiday and without leaving a forwarding address. She is as lost to me as if she were underwater—her voice muffled by the current.

Without her, I trudge through the river of words without finding that certain something evading me. Struggling with the premise or an unruly character is like casting a fishing line while blindfolded. It can be done and some might even be able to catch a fish by this method. For me, I’d need to use other senses than sight and try my best to remove the covering blocking my vision.

Every season seems to bring its own circumstances to keep me from writing. There’s always a birthday, an anniversary or get-together seducing me from sitting behind a keyboard. (If it sounds like I live at Party Central, that may be because I welcome balloons, confetti and laughing a lot. Oh, and cake is always welcome.)

So why am I still writing? The same reason you find time for us at Criminal Brief. We’re addicted. In this instance, I think addiction is quite lovely.

I am taking a tip from Bill Pronzini and reading Evan Hunter this December—and some Pronzini, too. Since we’re all trying to be extra good this time of year, perhaps there will something a little extra for us from a jolly old fat guy this year. You never know. He supposedly sees us all the time. He may be listening just about now. He may even be good friends with someone at Criminal Brief. I don’t know about you, but I’m putting up my stocking just in case.