So: what makes a great read? The kind of book that swallows you, makes you disinterested in the world, because you’re so deep in it, that its world is the real one. The kind of book that… you read the appendix because you don’t want it to end. Tell me. I want to write them. You want to write them.

In my experience, they don’t win awards (well, Dragon or Prometheus excepted) – or at least not in recent years. They probably sell fairly well, and the authors have at least a small following of devoted fans. That, however, isn’t how one can spot them, and learn how to do it from them.

It is quite a difficult task, the learning part. I keep being too immersed to try and work out quite what the author is doing right. I was talking about this, about one of the books I have tried hard on (THREE HEARTS AND THREE LIONS – Poul Anderson) with another writer… and found to my shock that it wasn’t immersive for them. In fact, they didn’t like it much, and just didn’t get it.

“Hello. Are we talking about the same book?” I KNOW people have different tastes, but somehow we all think others’ tastes are really just variants of ours. It was at this point that I realized I might be putting a huge amount of effort into learning how to write like someone who was magical to me – and no-one else.

On the other hand, if my books don’t swallow me, I’m going to get mighty bored writing them. So I’ll just have to go with hoping they’re as immersive for someone else.

The shortlist of things I find in common with my immersive reads: 1)They’re not an effort (the author may be writing complex ideas but it’s not obvious. They’re just there.) Jack Vance was probably the prince of this for me. 2)I bind rapidly to the lead character/s. Holger Danske, Mouse Padway. They have weaknesses but also traits I identify with. 3)The setting while vivid also combines vagueness. This sounds counter-intuitive, but the author is giving you just enough to let you conjure scene perfectly in your imagination. It’s not actually the same scene the author saw. It’s just perfect for you… because it is yours. 4)The author manages my concentration span. The scenes, especially if emotionally charged or fast moving, do not actually cascade. This is one of my weaknesses, but a great author plays you up and down keeping the pace slowly rising. 5)Maybe this just me: dialogue! Repartee HAS to be there. From Bujold’s Miles Vorkosigan to Terry Pratchett… you’re just waiting to see what riposte will be next.

7 responses to “Immersion”

  1. I stopped seeing these types of books around 2010, Dave. The ones you start when you get home, and then it’s 6AM and you have to go to work? Haven’t seen one in a long time. My basement is filled with old ones though, so many.

    It might be partly me, honestly. I’ve developed quite a crust of abrasion resistance over the years. Mileage, right? But then again it might not be just me, as most of what’s getting awards and love from publishers is not immersive.

    A relatable main character, an interesting setting, and the rest is down to the action. Witty repartee and a hot girl are not absolutely required, but they don’t hurt. ~:D

  2. My own literary tastes are rather on the fringes and I think because of that I developed a sense that people’s taste in fiction varies rather earlier than most authors. Three Hearts And Three Lions was a book that I had to force myself to finish, and I only did so because so many authors I knew were raving about it. I’ve never understood what people like about Terry Pratchett, either. On the other hand, I seldom find authors who seem to like books that I found immersive like Thomas Disch’s Camp Concentration or Philip Dick’s A Maze Of Death. I don’t know anyone other than me who loves Samuel Delany’s Dhalgren. So I accept that my own work isn’t going to appeal to everyone. My novel series is heavily inspired by William S Burroughs, who most everyone else finds unreadable.

    As to what is immersive to me? A sense of the Uncanny. The books that really draw me in give a feeling of being in a world where the rules are different. Ray Bradbury called it The October Country, I like the phrase The Edge Of The Wild. I love stories that have Twilight Zone moments, coming across something that can’t exist, but is somehow right there in front of you like a Magritte painting come to life.

    And yet, perhaps paradoxically, perhaps not, I like ordinary protagonists. Down to earth, pragmatic, quotidian. The classic farmer’s son from a fairy tale. Those are the kind of main characters I tend to write, people who an Epic Fantasy Hero would find dull as dirt.

    And I hate Scooby Doo endings. I don’t want everything to be explained in the end. In fact, I’d prefer that nothing is explained. No apologies, no “this is what is REALLY going on”, just a glimpse behind the walls of the world to something that is not merely stranger than we imagine, but is stranger than we can imagine.

    Which I realized is exactly opposite to the modern trend in storytelling (particularly in film, where every monster must have a sympathetic backstory). C’est la vie, I’ll keep writing my odd little tales for myself and those few that I have found who also like it when science goes off the rails and the wheels come off the natural order of things.

    1. Ordinary protagonists not only assure you that the uncanny is real, they also provide a vivid contrast.

  3. "Daniel Willard" Avatar
    “Daniel Willard”

    I had two such experiences.

    The first was a Vietnam War novel, The 13th Valley, by John M. DelVecchio, about a platoon of grunts in the jungle. I read part of it the first evening after I bought it. At work the next day, I was feeling unusually anxious. I finally figured out that I was worried about the guys in that platoon–were they gonna be OK? I had to get home and find out!

    The second was Tom Clancy’s Red Storm Rising. I bought it through a book club. I picked up my copy at the post office, read the first chapter, and went to law school for the day. After school, I got home and figured I’d read another chapter to two over dinner before doing my homework. The next thing I knew, it was 2 in the morning and I’d finished the book. I was not prepared for my 9:00 Contracts class. Fortunately, the professor did not call on me.

  4. For me, it’s the character. If we click he, she, or it, can carry me along anywhere.

    And maybe something about the prose carries me along.

    Heaven help me I read “Lessons in Chemistry” straight through. Closed the book and said “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever read. Cardboard stereotyped characters, inaccurate . . .”

  5. The April series sucks me in like no other. I read it twice on KU. When I started the third pass, I bought them all. I keep trying to read it while paying attention to WHY it pulls me in so easily. It doesn’t work because I get sucked into the story. I still haven’t figured it out and I’ve read them at least five times, now. It’s definitely Mr. Chandler. Family Law has the same effect on me.

    I just re-read Fire From the Sky. I wanted to review the tone and see how medium-sized groups were handled. Suddenly, I was checking Amazon for book 16 (which does not exist).

    The Xen subseries of Wine of the Gods does the same thing. Sorry, Pam, but I hate the Alliance, so I have a hard time with those books. I’ve got the most recent four on my Kindle, but I haven’t read them, yet.

    For me, it’s definitely character driven, but not exclusively. That’s why I don’t understand the popularity of Dungeon Crawler Carl. The character is fine, but the setting is dystopian nightmare for quintillions of beings. One dude, no matter how amusing his cat, cannot overcome that for me.

  6. I’ve copied Bradbury’s style in my life as a writer, an unequaled phrase-smith in my opinion, but have no idea how to make a book immersive. Doesn’t mean I don’t aspire to that. In fact that’s mostly what I aspire to. I want to write books that affect people, that they think about and go back to. I don’t have any ambitions to get rich off my writing, maybe make a meager livelihood is all I want at this stage in my life.

    But I really want people to read and think about what I write. That’s why I’m extremely pleased with a couple of the reviews of Advance Guards.

    Advance Guards by Frank Hood completely captivated me. The story of a family navigating a technology-obsessed future and rediscovering humanity is both powerful and thought-provoking.

    The emotional depth, especially in the family dynamics and sacrifices, really stayed with me. That opening scene alone gave me chills! This is a story that makes you reflect on where we’re headed as a society.

    and

    The characters are not just present—they are alive. They carry depth, motivation, and emotional resonance that make them linger long after you’ve put the book down.

    are my two favorite reviews. Those are gonna’ leave a mark–in a good way, a very good way.

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