It was at a writing festival in The Lakes a few years ago that I heard the author Claire Fuller say, and I paraphrase, of course, ‘The brilliant thing about being a full-time writer is that you can read all day and call it working.’ I remember my response: the sort of feeling you get when, as a child, you hear that grown-ups don’t have to go to bed until 10 o’clock. Just imagine that! 10 o’clock!
Well, I’m a grown-up, for sure (the recent birthday having confirmed it once and for all) so can confirm the later-than-half-past-six bedtime, but not yet a proper full-time writer so can’t quite call reading “work.” Nevertheless, I took the opportunity of a few days away from home recently to get some reading done. It was the first real break I’d taken on my own and it felt delicious to make every choice in my favour. It turns out that I like to spend my time drinking tea and reading – no surprise there, then! In fact, during my week’s holiday, I managed to read four and a half books – a personal record.
Fellow writers will know that we’re never quite off-duty. There are still snippets of other people’s conversations to eavesdrop and record for future use. There are our idle thoughts which might, with some persuasion, be crafted one day into a plot-line or character study. And reading other people’s work is tantamount to attending a masterclass, if the material is good enough.
I shan’t mention the titles I read, because that’s irrelevant to my point, but from them I gleaned the following:
- A superb example of a character’s voice. Just by her speech pattern, I could picture the woman down to her clothes and facial expression. I suspect she may have had chin hair, though the author didn’t explicitly show that.
- A brilliant way of narrating a story so completely in one third-person viewpoint that I literally didn’t know what was happening behind the closed door in front of me. (I seem to have previously read a lot of books with head-hopping from chapter to chapter. This particular book built great suspense in the not-knowing.)
- Even a ghastly premise – that a child is kidnapped – can prove to be a safe place for the imagination when the author holds the reader tight the whole way.
- The novel by a celebrity was as dreadful as I feared.
Yes, it felt utterly indulgent to read, read, read; and, no, I haven’t felt the same liberty since returning home. But I feel armed and equipped to go into my next season of writing, physically refreshed and mentally nourished. I’m sure I’ll be the better for it.