Occasionally, when asked how they liked a book, a reader will say, “I just couldn’t get into it.” But what does this mean? It’s obviously not the same as someone outright hating the book. It’s not a definitive thumbs down. In fact, it’s slightly open-ended. As if the problem could have been on the reader’s end.
From a writer’s perspective, that answer — “I just couldn’t get into it” — could prompt a follow-up question: “Why? Why couldn’t you get into the book?” Because there’s some wiggle room for other possibilities. You see, if the problem’s on my end, and there’s something I can do about it, I’d like to try.
- Sometimes the problem is on the writer’s end.
- Sometimes the problem is on the reader’s end.
The fun thing about reading is that there’s so many intangibles. A book could be well-written, even interesting. But for some reason, it just isn’t working for you. So why waste time on a book you can’t get into? There’s too many books out there to slog through a book you’re not into. Just lay it aside and move on. What’s the big deal? I mean, you’re not slamming the book or anything. You’re simply admitting that something wasn’t clicking.
But why? Why wasn’t it clicking? Could the problem be on your end? After all, so many people loved that book. You must be missing something. Maybe if you stick with it, you will be rewarded. That’s happened before, you know?
Then again, perhaps this is part of the intangibles. Let’s face it, there’s some writers we click with and some we don’t. I’ve always loved Woody Allen’s sense of humor. My wife hates it. There’s no amount of coaxing or explanations that will help her “get” Woody Allen. Likewise, as a writer, there’s some people who will get you, and some who won’t. It’s biology. Chemistry. Magic. Who knows exactly? Must we diagnose everything?
If my writing is clunky and cluttered and bloated, if my plot is predictable, my characters are one-dimensional, and my dialog is unrealistic, I want to know so that I can attempt to improve it. I want to do my best to make sure readers “get” my stories. However, I also need to make room for the fact that some readers won’t. They won’t get my voice. They won’t get my sense of humor. They won’t get my stories.
And that’s fine.
As a reader, however, I want to do my best to “get” a book. I want to give the writer the benefit of the doubt. Of course, this won’t guarantee anything. Sometimes I need to just concede there’s no spark, put the book down, and move on. Nevertheless, to a certain degree, I am responsible to put myself in a place to get the most out of a book.
Here’s some of the things that potentially keep me from getting more into a book:
- Reading in small chunks. I get a better feel for a story when I can devote larger blocks of reading time to it.
- Reading when I’m distracted. I’m one of those readers who needs quiet to concentrate — no background noise, music, conversation, etc.
- Reading too many books at once. I am a promiscuous reader. But it’s harder to love any one book when my affection is divided.
- Reading when the “timing” is wrong. This is an intangible. Somehow I need to match my reading schedule with my season of life.
I know I’m probably over-thinking this. But I’m interested in your thoughts. Do you think a reader is responsible to “put themselves in a place to get the most out of a book”? How long do you stick with a book that is not clicking for you? What are some of the things that potentially keep you from getting the most out of a book? How much should a writer worry about helping readers “get” them?
It’s funny you should write this today because I was thinking about it last night. I often stop reading books because “I just can’t get into them” and I know why. I read for pleasure, I read for information and a sense of adventure and, above all to fall in love. If there is not one character I can care about – fall in love with – I lose interest. When I start reading things like voice and style are important but I can usually get over them as soon as I begin to care about a character. If a couple of chapters have gone by and every character is either annoying, dislikable, or bland, I stop caring, too. As the great Sol Stein said, “Give me someone to root for!”
Last night I was curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and my Kindle. I had started one book but was 20% into it and having to force myself to read. So I switched over to a book I started a few days ago and hadn’t picked up again and, again, I was having a hard time getting into it. Finally, I switched to a recently acquired novel by Joyce Carol Oates and, within minutes, I was captivated. I read until midnight.
I supp0se every reader has different reasons for reading but I am the sort of person who would rather spend time alone than with people who are annoying or boring and it seems I am like that as a reader, too. As I writer, I also get those “I just couldn’t get into it” remarks. I’ve learned to let it go — I hope the reader finds something they can get into and lose all track of time.
“Promiscuous reader.” I love it.
As Dave Barry would always say, it could make a great name for a rock band.
Great question. I will usually stick with a book if at least one element is still drawing me in (a character, conflict, something), and I want to see what happens next. I’m reading a book right now that I’m iffy on because I’m finding it hard to understand. It is a fantasy written in a more medieval style with lots of strange names and places. I love fantasy (I write the stuff), but trying to remember too many names and places within the first few chapters turns me off.
I will finally put down a book (or a series), if the main character annoys me too much (driving me to hate him or her), or the violence/sex/language just goes on and on. Or I find it too hard to follow (see above example with writing style and foreign names/places).
Reading is so complex, isn’t it? We take it for granted that it is quite natural, but it requires a lot to read a novel; intelligence, emotion, imagination, etc. And it’s certainly normal that some books will connect to us personally and some will not. When I look at the most popular novelists, like Stephen King for example, the reader doesn’t have to do any real thinking. King spells everything out directly, every thought, and readers can just flow with it like a movie unfolding. It’s delightfully visual easy reading and most people want easy reading; sometimes I do too. But if you read Virginia Woolf, the prose requires the reader to think and imagine between the lines. Her long sentences and symbolism prevail. I sometimes find her books confusing and frustrating and put them down because I’m lost.
So, I think it boils down to what kind of reader are you? I read to feel. But I also want to think inside that novel. I want something atmospheric, stimulating, and clever.
As an author, I’m always concerned about my readers. If a majority of people like my book, then that seems fair. If a majority does not like my book …. hmm. Have I failed, or am I pitching it to the wrong readers? My book is a supernatural thriller. That’s an odd group of readers right there. But I wrote it to satisfy myself too, so it’s got plenty of atmospheric qualities, stimulating ideas, and cunning characters. What group of readers would like my novel? Gee, I really don’t know. What a crap shoot, huh?
“I sometimes find her books confusing and frustrating and put them down because I’m lost.” It is most unfortunate that Ms. Woolf couldn’t always pull off the long sentences she attempted, and that may be the cause of the confusion. She often lost the sense of her sentences by the time she completed them. A writer must be able to think in the logic of long sentences in order to write them.
When things don’t click, it depends how much spare time I have. Sometimes I just don’t have time to try and make it work. Sometimes I try harder and still fail, though I can appreciate the artistry, writing technique, or whatever.
It’s an emotional thing, and emotional makeup is quirky. I think there’s such a thing as an emotional worldview–I have one, anyway–and the books I love, speak to that. The books I don’t, usually “care” about something other than what I care about. It’s usually something in the main character’s personal compass or in the worldview used to construct the storyworld.
The last two weeks I have picked up books to read and had a hard time getting into them. In the case of the first book, the writer’s style seemed clunky to me and awkward to read. Kept trying to imagine the scene that she was talking about but all I could think about was choppy sentences. Sometimes though if I put a book down, I can come back to later and with no problem read it straight through. This book I will have to finish as it is one that I am judging for a contest.
The other was a first book in a series that a mystery group I am in online kept talking about how great it was and how they all enjoyed it. Started reading it but I couldn’t see the attraction. Seemed slow moving but I was starting to like the main character enough to keep going. When I mentioned it, several said that it took them a couple of books in the series to get really hooked on it.
Sometimes it is like what Morgan said “I will finally put down a book (or a series), if the main character annoys me too much (driving me to hate him or her), or the violence/sex/language just goes on and on.”
Is the Reader responsible? And should a Writer “help” them? I think it’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 80/20.
So many of the factors that are responsible for a Reader “getting” a given book are ones that the Author either can’t or shouldn’t control.
So the Author does her 20% by avoiding egregious writing errors, constructing the most captivating story she can, and most of all by staying true to who she really is as a writer (choices of style, etc).
Then she sends her Baby out into the world, and the rest of it is the Reader’s responsibility to “get” or “not get”…
My 80%, as Reader, includes: Degree of Openness (or not) to various story “types”; Intelligence; Background; Reading History; How Stressed my Life Is; How I’m Feeling (Physically) Today; Maturity Level; How Much Time I Have to Devote; Everything that goes into making me “me”.
I will finish nearly anything, no matter how treacherous – however, I require heroes. If I’m halfway into a book and I don’t care whether a single character lives or dies I will often close up shop. I need a hero. After that, I’ll give anything a chance. Even if I think it’s poorly written, I’ve learned to set it aside and come back to it because even that can be a deception based on my mood.
I wish more readers stuck it out, but they probably read for very different reasons than we few who “live by” reading. Unfortunately, they probably buy more books, so this rule of the hook has come to play a greater role in publishing fiction than it used to. Can you imagine Dickens with one of today’s editors? “Really, Dicky, one adjective here is quite enough.”
This may be splitting hairs, but I am not sure readers have any responsibility to put themselves in a place to get the most out of a book. However, by not doing so they rob themselves, other potential readers, and in some cases even the author, of the book’s full potential.
On the other hand, I believe readers do have a responsibility to season both praise and criticism in line with only their direct knowledge. As with many things, opinions are too often shared by those unqualified to do so, and others are turned away because of them.
My season in life significantly affects my selection and impression of books. Because of this I decided long ago to never label books as “good” or “bad”. I prefer to discuss facts and share how books affect me personally. It is one thing to not like a book, and another to tell others that a book is not worth liking.
I tend to think that the author’s responsibility to help readers “get” it lies primarily in correctly (or at least effectively) applying the tools of the trade to the specific subject matter. Readers should be able to understand a book, regardless of whether they like or not.
Books and authors are of low value these days because there are so many of both. So I guess a reader has to decide what she wants. Does she want fine-dining? Does she want junk food or a fast food fix? An old-fashioned homemade meal, maybe? I could see this mentality occurring with agents/editors before I decided to quit the idea of traditional publishing. They were ever so jaded with the surplus that they could decide at whim whether “they just couldn’t get into a book”. Why? Because ten more authors with a similar concept were waiting in line to be read, and surely one farther down would be more glamorous with the concept. We’re all there, really. We are part of the enlightenment glut known as Freedom of the Press.
In order to combat this, I take each book I read as a whole unit unto itself without comparing it the other, similar books on the market. That way I can give value back to individuals and attempt to appreciate each book for its own essential character–and then evaluate it as a non biased judge. I hate buffets, to be honest. There is too much of everything on offer and, eventually, it all tastes like the same underlying cheapness of stale soybean oil, no matter how the workers glamorize it.
I think we have to remember also that not all books are pulled to a reader. Many are pushed: book clubs, recommendations, and commercials can make for a situation where people will try things out of their usual comfort zone. So a person may also be saying this because they realize it’s still a good book, but there’s a mismatch. Myself, if you ask me to read a western or action adventure, I can but I’ll usually not get into it even if I recognize how well done it is.
I myself am an inveterate book-abandoner. I ditch more books than I complete; or I used to, until I fell in with a good klatsch of like-minded readers and was guided more by their tastes than by marketers’.
In fact, this is a really good topic and I’ll probably expound at greater length over at my place just to avoid clogging your comment space with tangentials. But I will say this. The most relevant determiner for me as to why I don’t Get Into a book is mood. For example, if I’m in a bout of sadness there are just some books that I know to avoid.
I honestly don’t think there is much to do on the writers’ end, frankly. Writers have to tell the stories they need to tell. They can’t stay strong if they’re forever pruning their stories into weirdly commercial bonsai; sometimes readers just have to admit that something isn’t their cup of tea at the moment.
There are quite a few cases where I’ve had a book I’ve not been able to get into, have set aside and gone back to later only to find that it becomes a lifetime favourite. (_Curse of Chalion_ by Lois McMaster Bujold; _A Discovery Of Witches_ by Dr. Deborah Harkness). So I generally try to keep an attitude of “not now” versus “not ever”.