It's somewhat uncomfortable to admit, but here goes. Several books sit by my bed, every one only partly read. On my mobile device, I'm midway through 36 audio novels, which looks minor next to the forty-six digital books I've abandoned on my e-reader. That doesn't account for the growing collection of advance versions beside my side table, vying for blurbs, now that I work as a published writer myself.
At first glance, these numbers might seem to confirm recent thoughts about modern concentration. An author commented a short while ago how effortless it is to break a reader's focus when it is scattered by online networks and the 24-hour news. They suggested: “Perhaps as readers' attention spans shift the writing will have to adapt with them.” However as a person who used to persistently finish any title I picked up, I now view it a human right to set aside a story that I'm not connecting with.
I do not feel that this tendency is a result of a brief concentration – rather more it relates to the sense of life moving swiftly. I've consistently been struck by the Benedictine teaching: “Hold the end each day in view.” One point that we each have a mere 4,000 weeks on this planet was as shocking to me as to others. However at what different moment in history have we ever had such direct entry to so many incredible works of art, at any moment we choose? A surplus of treasures awaits me in each bookshop and within every screen, and I strive to be purposeful about where I channel my energy. Might “abandoning” a book (shorthand in the publishing industry for Incomplete) be not just a sign of a limited mind, but a selective one?
Notably at a time when book production (and thus, selection) is still led by a specific demographic and its quandaries. Even though exploring about characters different from ourselves can help to strengthen the capacity for understanding, we also choose books to think about our own journeys and role in the universe. Unless the books on the shelves more accurately reflect the identities, stories and issues of prospective individuals, it might be quite difficult to keep their focus.
Of course, some authors are actually effectively writing for the “contemporary interest”: the tweet-length writing of selected modern works, the compact sections of others, and the quick sections of several recent stories are all a excellent showcase for a shorter style and technique. And there is plenty of craft guidance designed for capturing a audience: perfect that first sentence, enhance that opening chapter, raise the tension (higher! further!) and, if writing mystery, place a dead body on the beginning. That advice is all good – a prospective publisher, house or buyer will spend only a several valuable seconds deciding whether or not to continue. There is little reason in being contrary, like the person on a writing course I joined who, when confronted about the narrative of their novel, declared that “everything makes sense about 75% of the way through”. No author should subject their reader through a sequence of 12 labours in order to be comprehended.
Yet I certainly write to be understood, as much as that is feasible. On occasion that demands leading the audience's attention, guiding them through the plot point by efficient step. At other times, I've discovered, understanding takes patience – and I must allow me (and other creators) the grace of wandering, of layering, of straying, until I discover something authentic. One thinker makes the case for the fiction discovering new forms and that, instead of the traditional narrative arc, “other forms might assist us envision novel ways to create our tales vital and true, continue producing our novels fresh”.
In that sense, both opinions agree – the fiction may have to adapt to suit the contemporary consumer, as it has continually achieved since it began in the 1700s (as we know it today). Maybe, like previous novelists, coming creators will go back to releasing in parts their works in publications. The next these authors may currently be publishing their work, part by part, on digital services such as those visited by countless of regular readers. Genres evolve with the era and we should allow them.
Yet we should not claim that any shifts are completely because of reduced concentration. Were that true, concise narrative collections and very short stories would be viewed considerably more {commercial|profitable|marketable
Elara is a tech enthusiast with a passion for mobile innovations, sharing practical tips and in-depth reviews to help users navigate the digital world.