Here, more or less, is the talk I just
gave at Kidlitcon 2014: "Finding Your Voice, Finding Your Passion- Blogging With Conviction." It was better in person, because I made faces
(and snarky asides) and varied my tone of voice, and because there were good, insightful,
provocative comments from audience members, so this is basically a pale, cold
shadow of the live version. Which also had more pictures.
This session exists because I wanted
there to be an offering on the program for newer bloggers, folks still finding
their feet or looking for ideas on how to make blogging more interesting for
themselves and their readers, and I wanted something that talked about Reviewing Books, because that is what we do. It also exists because Voice and Authenticity and Conviction are things I often ponder with regard to my own blogging...
There are two parts to it--the first about voice, the second about
conviction--but the transition is so beautifully fluid you might miss it. I have put "THIS IS THE INTERESTING PART" when I
get to conviction, so that if you are in a hurry, you can scroll down and find
it.
***************************************
The Talk:
Blogging is weird, especially when
you are starting out. Unless you are using your blog as a reading diary
for purely personal reasons, you type in hope that there is an audience,
with little hard evidence to support this.
And there is your blog, your own little voice chirping in the
wilderness. The point of this session, in my
mind, is how to make that chirping more interesting both to you and to your
audience. Because if it’s not interesting there’s no point in writing it
or reading it.
And I think the two things that
makes blogs interesting, attracting lots of readers, are
--a distinctive voice, one that conveys
conviction and personality
--passionate intensity about either
specific books, or about a larger category of books that fall into whatever
category it is that you care about (like some aspect of diversity).
Keep in mind throughout that there is absolutely no need to have a single voice for every post, because different books call out different responses. After all, you don’t want to take every book to bed with
you. Just a few of the most special ones.
Let us assume that we (mostly)
review books so that other readers can find them, and that we want the voice we
use to keep readers reading to the ends of our posts, so that they can decide if they should seek the book out themselves. But keep in mind that different people have different needs with regard to book seeking.
--Sometimes there are people who don’t
have 300 plus books on their tbr shelves, and they are looking for books they
want to read for their own pleasure. And
sometimes there are sick addicts who have more than 300 books but who want more
anyway (cough).
--Sometimes the target audience of
your blog post is a gatekeeper—a grown-up with purchasing power who is going to
give the book to others, with the “others” ranging from one child to a whole
library system.
--Sometimes your target audience is
the whole wide world, because you have Something to Say that needs to be said.
The type of reader you have in mind
for your review is going to have an effect on the voice you use--such as
friendly, knowledgeable, or full of emotional intensity.
In my mind there are two ways to
approach how you might express your opinion about a book.
There's
the sort that results in a dispassionate, critical, review
"This book is a good pick for
the fan of Rick Riordan’s books who also enjoys taming small mammals."
and the sort that is more a personal
response:
“This is a book that I plan to shove
into the face of all the children I meet because the combination of Greek
mythology and squirrel taming broke my heart in the best sort of way."
The first is more “professional” –
this sort of voice, I find, comes most easily when I am reviewing a book for
which I am not a good fit. It allows you to calmly and collectedly
point out the strengths of a book that maybe repulses you, or simply doesn’t
appeal, on a personal level; it allows you to identify the sorts of readers who
might like it, and to assess how well it succeeds in what it sets out to do.
The second more emotional review
example doesn’t work at all as it stands (unless you already know and trust the blogger
who wrote it). But if whoever wrote something like that goes on
to support the emotional response with references to the text, and reasons for
their emotions, it can work just fine. Some people go entirely with the
former, and it works beautifully. Most people mix it up.
"Squirrel taming was
frequently part of the story, but it was not essential to either the plot or
the characters’ development. It felt emotionally manipulative, put in to
advance the author's agenda, and it really pushed the book over the edge for
me. Or possibly pushed me over the edge."
Allow yourself to realize that
different books, different moods, different amounts of time available to blog,
and different subjects that call out different emotional/logical responses will all
result in different voices in your writing. This is
just fine, perhaps even more than fine.
Some people allow themselves to talk
about other things on their blog, make their voice more a believable whole
person. Sharing personal things doesn’t make a stronger voice, but
it can be fun to write! And when you are finding the writing fun, that
will show, and make it fun to read. Personal doesn't have to mean
information about your cat; it can also be book related things- going to
author signings, a trip to a book store, organizing your shelves--that make
you, the blogger, a living, breathing protagonist on a book journey (thanks
to Kim of Dead Houseplants,
who gave me the "book blogger as protagonist" phrase in a comment, and
who has a great blogging voice). And if you are real, that makes you
appeal more to those who like real bloggers (as opposed to those who are just
in the market for real book reviews).
Here is something I think weakens a
blogger’s voice, especially if you are taking a personal approach and telling
me how the book worked for you as an individual reader: please don’t give
me the canned blurb lifted from Amazon. I’ve probably already read
it, and it won’t tell me anything about you; it won’t help me make sense of
your response to the book. Writing your own synopses is the most profound
way to get your distinct voice and personality across. I want to know
what YOU found important and interesting in the book, what things YOU picked up
on, not what the publisher wants readers to think the book is about.
(That being said, lots of bloggers I like use the given synopses; they go on to
talk lots about the book, though, which makes up for it).
So the basic point of finding your voice is
that you can use lots of different voices and there is no One Right Voice and
what you really need is to find the type or types of writing that make it
worthwhile for you to do it, and worthwhile for your readers to read it.
(HERE IS A PART THAT
IS PRETTY INTERESTING THOUGH STILL NOT THE MOST INTERESTING PART AND I HAVE
ADDED A BIT TO IT)
Here are some things you can try at home, to
play with your voice and to examine it more closely:
Just for the heck of
it, break out of your regular review structure. You could:
--Have fun
with wild exaggerated metaphors in your description of the book (and then cut
them out of the final product. I like metaphors more than the next
person, but I only allow myself to use them every once in a while because it
would get old fast.)
--Write a review
in which you break the plot summary up into acts as if it were a play (like my own review of The Forbidden Library) , and
critically discuss/ share your reactions to each bit, instead of saving it all
to the end. Or write a review as a menu for a grand dinner. Or write it with newspaper headlines, like this review of Nancy Drew #12 at Bookshelves of Doom.
--write it about it
in a whiney voice throughout, or in an exaggeratedly cheerful voice
throughout. Read what you wrote the next day, and see if you still agree
with what you said.
Or you could break away from the types of books you usually review.
Blogging about a beloved book from your childhood is a great way to rediscover how much fun it can be to share a book with an audience. Post about old books often get lots of comments from others who loved it too, and voila! New friends!
If you blog mostly fiction for kids, read and review a non-fiction book for adults, or vice versa. It makes a nice change.
Think “who wouldn’t
I give this book to, and why” instead of always searching for the perfect
reader. Or ask if you would give it to your kid self. Would you
want 10 year old you to read it? Would it help that person be a better,
stronger Charlotte, or not?
Here is ten year old Charlotte, probably not growing as a person as a result of her reading. Despite that, I now manage to coordinate my outfits with the upholstery in a much more pleasing way.
Search your blog for
words or phrases that you sort of nervously think you might be overusing. This might actually be
comforting. I was pleasantly surprised to find how
infrequently I “love” books, and I haven’t said “in a nutshell” since last
July.
[THIS NEXT BIT I
JUST ADDED AND IT IS A GOOD POINT SO I AM DRAWING ATTENTION TO IT]
Check your blog for
“we” and ask who the non-we readers might be. Do you want to exclude them, or is it just
thoughtlessness? If you create an “us” on your blog, it draws
lines. Anytime you are part of a "we" you are assuming there
are people who want to be that particular "we” and that there are people
who aren’t part of it.
Search your blog for
times you “liked” a book.
Did you mean it sincerely, or were your eyebrows slightly raised and your mouth
slightly sneering? Could a reader tell which you meant? (I
know I failed when I didn’t really like a book, and commenters chime in with
“glad to see you liked this one so much!). And check to make sure there’s
a reason why you are using such a wishy-washy word as like.
[THIS IS WHERE IT GETS INTERESTING]
And speaking of
wishy-washy, and I think that this maybe is the most important part of finding
your voice—look back through your posts and examine the strength of your
convictions.
Here is a quote from
one of my reviews that makes me cringe: “Basically, I
did not feel the plot and the characterization were meeting my needs as a
reader.”
Why
couldn’t I just have said: “The plot and the characterization were not meeting my
needs as a reader.”
Or even
just: "I did not like this book."
Actually, it doesn't make me cringe (I was setting myself up as a straw man). I remember typing that, and I was having fun being
disingenuous--I was playing on purpose with how to say I hated
the book without saying that. But still. YOUR READERS WILL NOT KNOW THAT
YOU ARE DOING THIS! They cannot see your expression of unholy glee.
They cannot see your snarky mouth twists. And this is a problem for me,
because sometimes people say "I am glad you liked this book" and I am
all, uh, no, not so much.
Adding to my own issues with voice is my lamentable tendency not to want to come right out and express
my opinions as if they are fact. I habitually use weak language that
privileges subjectivity --I felt, I thought, in my opinion. But
sometimes people just need to come right out there and say things they
really truly know to be so. And when talking about the things you
believe, you don’t always have to include the personal pronoun.
Things I might well have said (not having the
energy to look for actual examples from my reviews:
“I felt that it was
unrealistic that a character in a wheelchair could be swept over a waterfall
and suffer no consequences to either wheelchair or self.”
Or “I got the
impression that the author does not look favorably on women in leadership
roles.
Both are weak
for no good reason. Both fall into the trap of wanting to be nice, and
sometimes some of us have to give ourselves permission not to be nice.
Both end up making the authorial voices small, and weaker. The “I felt” can be edited out in the first,
which is easily done. If I really want to
convince anyone that the second statement has validity, I need to argue it,
with examples, instead of feebly feeling it.
“Strong” language isn’t always called
for. Not every bad thing merits a rant. But I need to give myself
permission to state as fact those things that are, to me,
factual/obvious/unarguable. And if there is something that really
bothers you about a book, give yourself permission to own it. If you are
a naturally diffident person, like me, this will be hard.
There was a book I read recently, The Queen of the Tearling, that made me furious:
the protagonist was raised in an isolated forest home, knowing only the two
people who raised her, and the very first night away from the forest home she
meets a guy she thinks is handsome, so she doesn't eat much at dinner because
--- she doesn't want to seem like a greedy pig because she knows she is
overweight.
How could she think this, when all she's known is the two old folks at Forest
Home???? Why is she defaulting to an early 21st-century screwed-up
body image? She probably is perfectly healthy because she has spent
childhood skipping around forest home on a low fat diet. She’s spent the
day on horseback with no snacks—can’t she be allowed to be hungry? She has never seen herself in a full length
mirror and compared herself to other girls. As far as the reader knows,
she has never been told her body is unattractive. How CAN SHE THINK THIS?
Also, how does she know what handsome is, but that's another issue.
So what did I do? I angrily returned the book to the library.
I did not give myself permission to say anything about the book,
because I do not like to review books that I haven't finished, and because
there were lots of other things in it that bothered me and I just didn't have the time and
energy at that point in my life to deal with it. It is a fact that
sometimes with a full time job and people in your life who need your energy and
the impending visit of your mother and concomitant worry about not having a
bathroom door to offer her that you do not have time to write strong and impassioned
posts. I do not blame myself, exactly, but I am annoyed at myself.
But at any rate, the first exercise here
is to go back through your posts and see if you weakened your voice by being
too diffident! And then the second --next time a book makes you
mad, write about it. You don't have to write a full review, and you don't
have to press send right away, but write it anyway. And if you still
believe what you wrote the next day, press send.
You don't have to have strong
opinions every time you write something. But if you are like me, you might have to remind yourself that you are entitled to them just as much as anyone else is.
[THIS IS THE STRONG
CONCLUSION PART--you have to imagine me saying it with intensity, making
eye contact with as many members of the audience as I can]
This is especially important because so
many of us are women—it is scary in this internet world to be a woman who has
an opinion that is at all controversial, but we shouldn’t default to diffidence
out of laziness or apprehension if we want our voices to have conviction.
So then at Kidlitcon I talked about the different passions (book related ones) of different bloggers with lots of examples...but that really worked better in Powerpoint, so I will stop now.
The End.
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