- Share This Post
- Pin It
- 0
-
Sparkle (0)
The other day I found a review on my book Mirage
written by a reader who is familiar with Arabic. In the review, the
reader expressed frustration with my misuse of pronouns when the hero
spoke Bedouin endearments to the heroine. This single issue was enough
to make the reader find the book less than satisfactory, which prompted
a comment that I should have done my research better.
I
didn’t take offense to the statement because having lived abroad for a
year; I know the importance different nationalities put on their
languages. It’s a part of who they are as a people. What I found
intriguing about the comment was that while my research was quite
meticulous (I point to my $50 Arabic dictionary) it only took one minor
point (a pronoun) to give a reader a less than stellar experience.
Reader Interaction
I
did comment back to the reviewer though. Yeah, right about now you’re
thinking I’m nuts. No, I didn’t have a delusional moment. I explained
to the reader that I’d used an Arabic dictionary BUT, I would love to
have someone who speaks Arabic as a resource for me to call upon for
any future research questions. I left my email in hopes that the reader
will contact me. I didn’t have a connection to a resource like this
reader when I wrote Mirage in 2004, and I wish I had.
On
the flip side of the coin, I have to accept that no matter how deeply I
research something, there is always going to be someone who knows more
about a subject than me, and Murphy’s Law dictates that individual will
read my book. *grin* But this isn’t necessarily a bad things. I mean if
this reader does contact me, I’ve acquired a resource I didn’t have
before. What this experience HAS pointed out to me is that no matter
how deeply we research an issue reader satisfaction is varied at best.
Research Sets Stage
But
then like everything else in reading, subjectivity reigns supreme. I’ve
always believed that the point of research was to set the stage and be
as accurate as possible. I’ve never been a historical “purist” who
believes that a book has to completely and totally reflect the time
period. My belief rests on the premise that unless I talked to someone
who actually lived in the period, even empirical evidence can be
incorrect. People always said unicorns weren’t real, but in Italy last
month, the basis for the legend was photographed.
While
I appreciate the reader’s position (and dearly hope she’ll contact me
so I have a resource for the language), I have to work with what I have
at hand for creating my stories. The whole point of fiction in my mind
is to tell a good story, and to tell it with as much believability as
possible. Suspension of disbelief is vital, and my goal is to
accomplish that for every reader. I accept that even though I pride
myself on meticulous research, there will always be someone who
believes the research could have been better. That’s okay, because when
I turn in a book, I do so with the knowledge that I’ve done the best
that I can with my research. If a reader points out something down the
road, that’s cool, it means I’ve learned something new.
Monica
