[I keep writing posts and then letting them rot as drafts as I know I haven’t time to respond properly – so here is a thought from a few weeks ago.]

I have a modern dilemma. As a writer/reader/blogger I review books I love, but by no means all the books I read. I try to support fellow writers by reading their books, but if they write in a genre I don’t enjoy (horror, thriller, fantasy), although I sometimes buy, I don’t read them. There are some other genres (sci-fi, romance, chick-lit, historical fiction) where I’ll buy and read a few pages and occasionally the whole book, because I like the writer and am interested to see their work. Mostly I read general fiction, and a lot of non-fiction.

Tom Gauld cartoon

I recently read two books by authors I had come across online and expected to enjoy and in many ways I did. Both were fiction, but full of interesting subject matter, well-researched; the writing was fluent and grammatical and the proof reading was exemplary.  The first few chapters were enjoyable and yet as I read I fell into a state of simmering irritation.

The first one needed more editing. Some very strange ‘darlings’ that spoiled the atmosphere should have been cut. Most of the characters, including a very crucial one, were well-drawn and the pace was good. BUT the two protagonists and their whole story arc were straight out of central casting and belonged in a different book. The writing (for these two) was what my husband refers to as the ‘he gazed into her sunburnt eyes’ style. It was repetitive and very soupy.

The second was a very good read in many ways with a fascinating background and story. BUT, once more, the two main characters and their interactions were not credible. In this case the characters were undercooked, their behaviour towards each other age-inappropriate and the whiff of teenage romance in a serious setting was odd.

I really want to review these books and I cannot without hurting the authors.

Now, here’s the embarrassment, is this how my writing comes across to others? I still remember one very irritated reader/relative saying, why do you write like this when you could write like A S Byatt if you wanted to (I couldn’t, but I wouldn’t want to either). Were these books perfect for a different reader? Am I just reading out of my genre comfort-zone? Is this just the curse of the writer as reader?

I see that this post has become an (unintentional) demonstration of how dull writing becomes when you generalise instead of being specific – ah well!

Meanwhile winter has turned to spring – Hooray!