LITERARY WORKS | learning to write through osmosis

Reading has always been an avenue of escape, whether I was a young girl living in the rural mountain region of Washington or as a grown woman and mother in the midst of a city.  Escapism on the verge of transcendence has always drawn me to reading, especially in reading historical or biographical works.  Lately, however, I have been captivated by literary works, notably those that have been either finalists or winners of literary awards.  

I am a firm believer in enjoying books for the sake of reading, entertainment, and relaxation, but I also believe in reading to enhance oneself.  The enrichment could be in education, function, or enlightenment.  I enjoy a good cozy murder mystery and realistic depictions of history, but recently literary works have truly touched my soul.  I recently read The Professor's House by Willa Cather, a book I spotted on a library shelf in the classics section.  I had never read anything by Cather before, but the synopsis of a man's rebellion against a sudden change in the move of his home intrigued me.  Little did I know that the story would put into words an idea that I sometimes struggle with.  The story explores the reflections of one's life and whether one is satisfied with the outcome. I was brought to tears near the end when the Professor shares his love for his family, but struggles with the desperate need to be alone. Oh, how it moved me. I could not get that kind of self-assessment gentling delivered amidst descriptions of a New Mexican landscape and the dark room of a lonely study from one of my mystery series.  

Cather’s book One of Ours won a Pulitzer Prize in 1923, and yet, a lesser-read book moved me in such a profound way.  It would be short-sighted to think that a prize-winning author only writes prize-winning work or that winning a prize determines that their work is somehow more important than others. However, the important difference between literary and popular fiction is that the character drives the story in literary fiction, while the plot directs the popular fiction.  

So far, my book has been driven more by the plot rather than the character.  Lucia’s story as an orphan from Mexico City and growing up in the Brahmin culture of Massachusetts has turned out to be a Cinderella tale.  There is more to her story than that, but in a nutshell, the plot is recognizable.  Was that what I set out to do?  Not really.  My book is a reiteration, a new take on a book by Louisa May Alcott.  Before Little Women, when she was fifteen, Alcott wrote a book called The Inheritance about an Italian orphan in England. Not her finest work, but the story spurred an idea, one that translated to my own idea for a story.  

Reimagining a classic is not a new idea.  Look at 2023 Pulitzer Prize winner, Demon Copperhead, Kingslover’s recasting of David Copperhead set in Appalachia America instead of England or the recently named Pulitzer Prize Winner James by Percival Everett, a reconsideration of ‘Huckleberry Finn’and the absurdity of racial supremacy.  I would never count my work on par with either of these masterpieces, but I am drawn to finding the same stroke of brilliance. 

The complexity of being an artist is that there is really no right way, no formula or blueprint for creating an amazing literary work.  Sure, with writing, there are three acts, photography has the rule of thirds, and with music, the rhythm of beats and rests, but beyond the basic framework, the space for creativity is open. This is where individuality evolves.  Even so, learning from the best is a good idea, even if there is no way to recreate the same rhythm, style, or success.  I found a book called Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose from my library book sale (support local libraries!), and the first pages talk about learning from the best:

“Study meter with Ovid, plot construction with Homer, comedy with Aristophanes.”

I need to see what else Prose has to share in her writing guide, but I already felt drawn to the literary section even before reading her first few pages. Authors like Annie Dillard, Marilynne Robinson, Adam Johnson, Colson Whitehead, Kazuo Ishiguro, and Han Kang have demonstrated what brilliant writing looks like. Through osmosis, I can absorb their brilliance by surrounding myself with great literary works, gradually becoming the writer I aspire to be. Now I understand why I have felt stuck; my story has been at a crossroads, and I have been hesitant to choose a path. Should I keep my book plot-driven, or should I pivot, redirecting the story to be more character-driven? Here lies my dilemma, a significant problem I must resolve and soon.

Cover Image: Umberto Boccioni. Young Woman Reading (Ines), 1909–10. The Metropolitan Museum of Art