I gave three book talks this week, plus one radio interview. Because my book is about an ex-nun, I expected to field questions about the convent at all four venues. Yet it’s surprising what people want to know, or what readers will take away from a book.
Audience questions at the first talk were all about the convent and the Catholic Church—and the state of the religious life in today’s Catholic Church. I think people were disappointed when I prefaced all my answers with a version of the disclaimer, “I’m no longer Catholic, but this is what I’m seeing…”
At the second event, the questions were all about the publishing process. The audience was fascinated by the length of time from contract to books-in-stores, and about all the steps that go into pounding a manuscript into its final shape.
At the radio interview, the super-professional host asked basic questions like “Is writing still a solitary occupation?” and “How do you keep your plot and characters straight?”
And at the last talk, the discussion was about how a live reading can still paint visuals in your head the same as reading the book yourself does. (With a slight derail on how an audiobook reader can make or break the book.)
This is what is great about interacting with readers: They all see books from a different angle. I
love not knowing exactly what to expect when the questions begin. And I realize that what I bring to a book affects what I take away from it. I’m reminded of a play I saw years ago—it was a family-type drama that was quite well written. Except that the climactic scene involved a fight between the main character and her mother, which was way too close to home for me.
I figure someone’s going to come to one of these events with a large chip on their shoulder from a bad experience in Catholic Grade School. Or, perhaps, a band of irate nuns with torches and pitchforks. )I rather like the latter possibility: Think of the news coverage. Think of the sales!)
As readers and writers, what books have you liked because of what you brought to the read? What books turned your expectations on their heads?
Audience questions at the first talk were all about the convent and the Catholic Church—and the state of the religious life in today’s Catholic Church. I think people were disappointed when I prefaced all my answers with a version of the disclaimer, “I’m no longer Catholic, but this is what I’m seeing…”
At the second event, the questions were all about the publishing process. The audience was fascinated by the length of time from contract to books-in-stores, and about all the steps that go into pounding a manuscript into its final shape.
At the radio interview, the super-professional host asked basic questions like “Is writing still a solitary occupation?” and “How do you keep your plot and characters straight?”
And at the last talk, the discussion was about how a live reading can still paint visuals in your head the same as reading the book yourself does. (With a slight derail on how an audiobook reader can make or break the book.)
This is what is great about interacting with readers: They all see books from a different angle. I
love not knowing exactly what to expect when the questions begin. And I realize that what I bring to a book affects what I take away from it. I’m reminded of a play I saw years ago—it was a family-type drama that was quite well written. Except that the climactic scene involved a fight between the main character and her mother, which was way too close to home for me.I figure someone’s going to come to one of these events with a large chip on their shoulder from a bad experience in Catholic Grade School. Or, perhaps, a band of irate nuns with torches and pitchforks. )I rather like the latter possibility: Think of the news coverage. Think of the sales!)
As readers and writers, what books have you liked because of what you brought to the read? What books turned your expectations on their heads?
