Writer and Reader

I'm fascinated by the relationship between writer and reader.  And the more I learn about the different ways that a writer can put words together, the more clearly I see how the writer can play with the reader.

I remember reading Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis when I was fairly young.  Or trying to read it.  Because in that first chapter, Lewis does something interesting.  The main character, Ransom, is walking up a hill to a foreboding place.  And in the text, you get the idea that something is pushing back, something doesn't want  him to get up there.  But more than that, as the reader, I found it difficult to keep reading.  To the extent that I gave up.  Which is crazy.  I'm an avid reader, I love science fiction and I'm a fan of Lewis.  And when I did pick it up and try again, once I got past that first chapter, the text carried me along and I didn't feel the same drag at all.

What was going on there?  I think Lewis used his keen writing skills to affect the reader.  I think he made me feel like I didn't want to make the trek up that road, just like Ransom.  And he did it with words.

There are things that I can do, if you follow, that are wordy and full of wordiness for word's sake.  And these things, the things that I can do, may make you, the reader of this blog right here, want to turn around, figuratively speaking, and stop reading.  Just stop.  Right there.  Or here.  Or here.  Because I'm writing in a way that is purposely annoying.

Or.

I can flit and fly from word to word, helping you follow along.  Alliteration stimulates.  Rhyme makes the time fly by.  And tricks!  Many are the tips and tricks I have learned.  For rhetoric, with it's warm embrace, draws you in and holds you while whispering in your ear. 

There are so many ways for the writer to play with the reader.  For example, I could say:

He cut his ear.  It hurt.  He ignored it.

or

It clamored for attention, the cut on his ear, ringing out his pain for none to hear.

or

A thin cut.  A paper thin cut.  But it shrieked as it sliced into the soft flesh at the top of his ear, drawing a throbbing red line of misery.

or

He absentmindedly scratched at the scab on his ear, unknowingly reopening the wound.  Later, his ear would throb, but he wouldn't know why.

Isn't it fun how each one of those belongs in a different story and tells you different things about the character or makes you feel a different way?  The first one, to me, feels old or grumpy or stoic.  The second one is more poetic and showy, but with a hint of victim or martyr.  The third one slips into horror, makes you recoil.  And the fourth one takes you more into the mind of the character, makes it more personal.

Really good writing makes you want to stay up all night reading just one more chapter.  Or it makes you stop after each chapter, to savor the yummy goodness.  Or it makes you hide the book in the freezer, so the monsters can't get you.  There are different kinds.  But it's never an accident.  It's always the writer playing with the reader, fulfilling the promise made when you picked up the book.

That's the kind of writer I want to be.