So how did I spend part of my weekend? I got hooked on a Nicholas Sparks’ novel and read its entire 211 pages cover to cover in a couple sittings. Not that this is hard to do. Sparks is a mediocre writer, but he has a winning formula. He can evoke an emotional response from the reader despite his writing style.
Over the years, Sparks’ several books have climbed to the top of the New York Times Bestseller List. I’ve read three, and my reaction to all three has been the same. They usually involve a flashback technique to flesh out a love story which then ends with the death of one of the lovers. The Notebook, A Walk to Remember, and Nights in Rodanthe(this weekend’s feature) all follow this pattern. They are almost predictable; but what Sparks has going for him is his ability to hook you in, regardless of the clichйs, and make you feel genuinely involved with his characters. It might not be great writing, but it’s great pathos. He gets me every time.
Which makes me wonder: What is great writing? Is it the ability to bring the reader to tears or the ability to create an appreciation of the author’s art? Or both? I’m not sure. I just finished another novel, Loving Frank by Nancy Horan, which is beautifully written, quite engrossing, but not one that made me cry even though I was as engrossed in the story as I was with Nights in Rodanthe. What I liked most about Horan’s work was her ability to control the written word and avoid clichй while still being most readable. Like Sparks, her work has ended up on the New York Times Bestseller List.
And what about those works that don’t shine on a Bestseller’s List? I’ve read many of them and found more than one gem. Some have made me think; others have moved me to wonder; still others have left me wishing I could write like that.
I guess in the end great writing is in the eye of the reader.
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