The Thing That Everybody Wants

Every meeting for the past couple of weeks, someone in my writer's group throws another log on the fire. Another "should," another rule, another "thing a novel must do." Add the pressure of every swallowed rebuttal, and this wisdom has turned to ash and coal without further transformation. What do these rules violate to the point of fury? For me, they call to mind Harrison Bergeron. I imagine narratives chained to the taste and preference of "everyone," forced to fill the engineered channel of a billion copies sold. Therefore, I , too, would be forced to choose from only those books in that same flat, wide channel.

This, of course, is foolishness. There are plenty of novels and short stories that are different, that don't follow a particular course. And there is no lack within the group, either, of fascinating stories. In fact, my reading has never been broader since I worked on my English degree. Even so, I am not every reader. My tastes veer sharply away from apocalyptic fiction, from blood and horror, from the cruelties that are part of humanity. I can't forego that, because they are my inheritance and humanity as well. Laziness and fear and the cowardice of action...these I couldn't avoid whether novelized or not. And then there are tropes, such as those of a romance, that lead to and from 'love' or 'treasure' on tracks no less stiff than those of your average rail yard. These, however, are my preferences only. They are important to me in selecting books, but not to a generic rule in fostering widescale enjoyment (not exactly a world-domination style evil goal, either).

I don't like rules for novels because my reading preferences are perhaps percentagewise not in the vast majority or even in the simple majority at times. Regardless of my own writing and my desire to become published, my stronger desire is to read and to have the opportunity to read those things that force their way into MY soul. Things that have not been flattened by the "should."