One of the fundamentals I believe about being a writer today is you must compete with television and TikTok. A book, stageplay, or poem doesn’t need to be an immediate dopamine hit like a YouTube vlog - but if you don’t acknowledge you’re writing into an attention economy you will write yourself into irrelevancy. I would happily remove the first 20% of most stories that are published, without stakes established and needless exposition about a character’s family I don’t give a damn about.
So imagine my surprise, when I read a tension-less 60 page opening in Atonement and my instinct isn’t immediately to rip those pointless pages out. Because, I suppose, they’re not pointless. It is true that nothing meaningful happens for a long time, but the painting he creates though slow and considered prose is so masterful that when the image of the perfect family begins to fall apart I immediately understand the gravity of the moment.
Colour me surprised, this pale stale male wasn’t blabbing for the pleasure of hearing his own voice. Maybe, just maybe, I don’t have to rip out the first 100 pages of every novel. Perhaps my own writing can slow down a tad.
Nah, sounds boring.
Yours sincerely,
Andrew Gillanders