Humans like to be loud, don't we? We race to see what's next, stomping and raising our voices to the sky. It feels good to be heard. It's affirming, when you make a big statement and everyone notices.
We miss things when we rush forward, though. When we're only focused on what comes next, we skip over the beauty of the in-between moments. But those moments are all around us. They're in the wintry woods, when you stumble across a gentle stream flecked with snow. Or at your child's bedside, when you tiptoe to see a cherished face become babyish again in sleep.
I firmly believe that those quiet moments, and the love and truth that they hold, are the most important parts of our lives. It's in those moments that I find the deepest meaning and the deepest peace. So, it's no surprise that I'm a huge advocate for so-called "quiet" books: the ones that tell everyday stories, and highlight the richness and intricacies of humanity in their slice-of-life narration.
So many agents are asking for "page-turners" that are "fast-paced" or "plot-driven." And those books are valuable and interesting. They absolutely have a place on the bookshelf. But, you know what? So do quiet books. "Voice-driven" or "character-driven" books that slow down, dig in, and look inside the everyday.
Why? Because quiet books are relatable. They take the familiar and make it ethereal, just by shining a light on it. They safeguard peace, connection, and reality. They harness universal truths and turn them around so that readers can see those same truths reflected in their own lives. They take the mundane and make it spectacular, in all its simple glory.
My characters don't undertake huge challenges, aside from tackling self-reflection (and one tension-filled boat ride). They do encounter surprises, sometimes monumental ones, but when that happens, the focus always twists back to the characters, to see how they react. The plot is there, certainly, but it's not the most important part of the book. The characters' emotional growth, and the reader's reaction to that growth: that's what drives the book forward.
There's room on the bookshelf for all kinds of books, just as there's room in this world for all kinds of readers. We need quiet books with accessible, everyday moments just as much as we need loud books with exhilarating twists and turns. We need permission to slow down, breathe, and see ourselves in stories.
In one query rejection, an agent (very kindly) suggested that my narration was "more slice-of-life than [I] intended." Actually? That slice-of-life quality is exactly what I intended. It's what I crave when I reach for a book, and I'm confident that there are other readers out there who are looking for it, too.
コメント