If
you want to feel really good about your community, publish a book.
That's
what I learned last year. I thought releasing my first novel, after
such a long process, would make me feel good about myself. But
instead, it made me feel good about other people. I have been so
gratified and amazed by how eager people are to help me, how much
they want to see me succeed. I do believe that is in part because I
wrote a good book, and because people see it as useful to social
justice movements, specifically to justice for Palestine. But many
people reached out before they'd ever read the book, and that
includes people I never thought liked me, people I've had ambivalent
political relationships with over the years, and even some people who
don't agree with my politics on Palestine. Coworkers bought multiple
copies to give to their families and friends for Christmas presents,
while some of my good friends had private book signings (Tory bought
more books than we sold at the Modern Times reading). Local
bookstores have promoted it and let me know when there were problems
in the supply chain.
I've
also gotten some wonderful nuanced feedback from writers I respect, which will help me as I delve into Book 2 of the Rania &
Chloe Palestine mystery series (pleased to have editor Elana
Dykewomon back on board for Murder Under the Fig Tree). I've
gotten used to talking about my writing process, how art differs from
life, and had opportunities to reflect deeply on the events in my
life that led to embarking on this project. I even remembered what I
was working on before I went to Palestine, and made a commitment to
get back to it before too long.
One
of the less encouraging things I've learned is that fiction is out of
favor in US culture right now. I've
been surprised by the number of people who have told me, “Oh, I
don't read fiction.” I'm
not sure how I missed knowing this, since as early as 2004,
commentators were reporting that “Although fiction still sells in
great quantities … the attention of publishers and booksellers has
moved elsewhere. Everyone in publishing agrees it is getting harder
to sell a new novel, even by a distinguished name, in this country;
book buyers seem interested only in non-fiction.”
“The
top 10 non-fiction books on the bestseller list always outsell the
top 10 fiction books, save an occasional mega-seller,” wrote Anthony Chatfield in 2007.
Blogger
Scott Esposito suggests that this trend reflects a desire for instant
gratification: nonfiction offers the appearance that we've made an
immediate gain in terms of useful knowledge.
Another reason nonfiction might work better for people in this
overscheduled information age is that it's easier to pick up and put
down, or read parts of, requiring less commitment than a novel. Who,
after all, really read Thomas Pickety's bestseller on capitalism from
start to finish? I really liked Patrick Cockburn's The
Rise of the Islamic State,
but it didn't exactly make me miss any bus stops because I had to
find out how it ended.
At
the same time, alarm bells have been sounded by those worried about
gaps in our kids' education – the same ones unwilling to address
the elephant in the room, poverty. Researchers claim that high
numbers of graduating students “may be able to compute a math
problem or analyze a short story but they can't read a complex
non-fiction text.”
To remedy this perceived weakness, the Common Core Standards “calls
for a shift in the balance of fiction to nonfiction as children
advance through school. According to the CCSS guidelines, by the end
of 4th grade, students’ reading should be half fiction and half
informational. By the end of 12th grade, the balance should be 30
percent fiction, 70 percent nonfiction across all subject areas.”
I
seriously question whether students can in fact analyze a short story
if they can't “read a complex text.” The key words “analyze”
and “complex” are not defined, at least not in any of the
metareports I looked at; I didn't see the original data, which is
attributed to the creators of the ACT college readiness exam. If by
“analyze,” we mean anything beyond describing what happened
(which is not analysis, but reporting), analyzing a work of fiction
should require more complex thinking than reading even the most
difficult nonfiction work because the information in a remotely
well-written nonfiction text should be communicated directly, while
the themes and lessons of fiction must be intuited or derived by
careful attention to the symbolism of events and characters. A more
likely explanation of the disparity between students' ability to
analyze fictional versus nonfictional texts, if it exists, might be
that the fiction they are reading is chosen, by themselves or their
teachers, for its relevance to their lives, while the nonfiction is
simply presented as information they need to know.
I
remember when I was in graduate school complaining to my teacher, the
always brilliant Michael Rogin, that I couldn't remember dates and
characters in history.
“Can
you remember the plots of novels?” he asked.
“Sure,”
I replied. (The same might not be said today, when I can easily read
half a mystery before realizing I've read it before. But that might
have more to do with the books than my failing memory.)
“That's
because you attach symbolic significance to the events in the story.
If you can do the same with historical events, you'll remember them
too.” It was good analysis, good advice and it helped me become a
better nonfiction reader. It might well work for students who are
having the same trouble today. More to the point, if the “complex
texts” are about things they think they need to know about, they
will probably figure out a way to understand them.
The
solution may well be worse than the problem. A series of studies
that came out a few years ago found that reading literary fiction
increased readers' empathy.
One study used “a variety of Theory of Mind techniques to measure
how accurately the participants could identify emotions in others.
Scores were consistently higher for those who had read literary
fiction than for those with popular fiction or non-fiction texts.”
Of course, once again, key words like “literary” and “popular”
fiction are not defined. Examples of the literary works included
books by Don DeLillo, Charles Dickens and Louise Erdrich, while
popular fiction included Gillian Flynn and Danielle Steele. One
hypothesis about the difference was that the characters in the
popular works were not as well defined. I might offer some other
hypotheses regarding Gillian Flynn (a friend and I just watched “Gone
Girl” on TV) – such as that her characters are so unpleasant, one would not
really want to get inside their emotional worlds. And yet, as I have
previously mentioned, Flynn is often included among genre writers who have
“crossed over” (a review of her book, Sharp Objects, says, “this
is more literary novel than simple mystery”).
I
haven't seen studies proving this, but I don't need any to know that
fiction also helps us stretch our imaginations. Reading fiction is essential to the creation of
revolutionaries, because if you can't imagine something that doesn't
exist, you cannot help to create it. Is that perhaps a reason why
these education reformers are so determined to limit the time that
kids spend exercising their imaginations? Or is it simply that their
own imaginations are so starved, at this point, that they can't
remember the joy of being transported into another place, another
time or another person's reality?
I
went to see 'Star Wars: The Force Awakens" the other night. I enjoyed
it, especially the 3D effects. But there was a lot less to the story
than in the 1970s episodes, which is not saying that much.
There's almost no character development; it's two hours of nonstop
battle scenes. The best mainstream
movies I saw last year, “Spotlight” and “Trumbo,” along with
some I didn't care for like “Bridge of Spies,” were barely
fictionalized versions of true stories. Among the 12 top grossing
films of 2015, nine were installments in multi-film franchises, two
were based on old television shows, one was based on an alleged true
story and one was a remake. Only two, “Inside Out” and “The
Martian,” were original fictional narratives.
Those
of us who write fiction might need to start fighting for its place in
our culture, for the sake of the culture as well as ourselves.
Murder
Under the Bridge has gotten some
excellent reviews.
I've
also done quite a few interviews on radio and even one on TV. If
you're interested, you can find some of them on my website.
I
will be reading in Washington, DC on January 16 (Politics & Prose, 1:00 pm), Richmond, VA on
January 19 (Fountain Books, 6:30 pm) and Portland, Oregon on January 22 (Another Read Through, 7:00 pm). More information. If you're in one of
those cities and can't make the reading but have time to get
together, please email me.