Today was a weird day. Don’t ask me why, it just was. It was one of those days that you would love to just blank from your memory but know you never will.
Please don’t tell me that I’m the only person to have those kinds of days.
Tell us about a journey-whether a physical trip you took, or an emotional one.
Hmm. A journey.
This is probably going to be quite different to the kind of thing that the prompt was asking for, but let’s just go for it. I don’t have any other bright ideas.
If you know me at all, you know that I love to read. Absolutely love it. It has been a lifelong hobby and passion of mine. Reading is and always has been such a big part of my life.
But I’ve been on a journey lately that has slightly changed the role that reading has in my life.
I’ve been branching out a bit more lately, drifting away from my usual genre of YA Christian fiction. I haven’t drifted too far, but I have been reading some more secular YA fiction, as well as the occasional dystopian.
The thing is, in reading all of these different books, I’ve been feeling rather unsatisfied. And that is a new feeling for me. I’ve never felt unsatisfied by books before, even when every single book in a series had the exact same plot (yes, Rainbow Magic, I’m talking to you).
I think part of it is that I have become very good at correctly guessing what is going to happen, sometimes before I even start reading the book. And when that happens, I feel rather disappointed. I want to be proved wrong, to be shocked to the core. That’s why I enjoyed We Were Liars so much, even though the ending was extremely emotional and shocking. But the other books that I’ve read lately all seem to be predictable. I’m not sure if that is my fault or the author’s fault, but that’s what’s been happening. And I don’t like it. It leaves me feeling disappointed and unsatisfied.
This journey of becoming less and less satisfied with what I’m reading has also had an impact on my own writing. I read a post or two recently on Sometimes I’m a Story about cliches found in Christian Fiction. These posts hit me right where it hurt, and, I have to admit, I felt quite offended and took it quite personally. Thing is, the plan for my novel contained a lot of these cliches (OK, like five), and I didn’t know what to think.
But as I’ve gone through this journey of being unsatisfied with reading, I was also forced to reevaluate my own writing. Do I want it to be full of cliches? Will people go away feeling unsatisfied after reading my novels? Will the feeling that I’m currently disliking come across in my novels?
That’s my journey. It isn’t exciting, but it is a pretty big deal for me, as something that I’ve always experienced has suddenly changed, forcing me to rethink a lot of things about what I read and what I write.
But I still love to read. And I still love to write. The writing is on hold for now, until I can actually sit down and figure out how I’m going to approach this issue. I think that what I am learning is that the things that have worked and made sense your whole life can suddenly change, which seems like a strange concept to me.
This is just a whole bunch of rambling about a whole bunch of unrelated topics. Oh well. I tried.