What Really Makes a Novel Good? (Part I)

It’s a dark and stormy night. The electricity is off, so, TV-less, you and your Significant Other are in bed reading by clip-on battery lights. After a brief while, he/she slams down the book and says, “This book stinks. I’m going to bed.” S.O. turns off the light, pulls up the covers, and before long, you hear snoring.

You, on the other hand, have hit a Golden One. You can’t put it down! You devour that book, losing track of the time. You eventually realize that it’s midnight, but you just want to read one more chapter. Then it’s one a.m., but you can’t stop at this point. Then it’s two—but now you want to finish it. And when you finish, you want to start it all over again.

What’s the Secret?

That book has drawn you in. The external world has ceased to exist, time has no meaning. You are in that book’s world. Its anxieties are yours, its emotions increase your heart-rate and bring real tears to your eyes. Maybe the plot is fast-paced and the stakes are high. So, is it only thrillers that engross us in this way? Not at all. Because sometimes we’re sucked into a book where the emotions expressed are cranked up to the max, and the characters are people with whom we deeply empathize, and very few thrillers have those attributes. Whatever else an Engrosser has going for it, there is probably tension, uncertainty, maybe even a deadline. You’re probably chewing your fingernails at some point.

Pleasant or Not, Here It Comes

One of the most unforgettable books I’ve ever read is Zola’s Germinale, a huge book about life in the coal mines in the 19th century. If it sounds like a snoozer, don’t believe it. That book shattered me. I’ve never gotten over the horror of its imagery. It’s so brutal, you think it can’t get any worse … and then it does. Getting sucked into that world was agony, yet I couldn’t put it down. So it isn’t only fiction that is somehow delightful or comfortable that sticks us to it like glue. In fact, the pain of anticipation may be a critical element. Remember the siege of Helms Deep in Lord of the Rings? The suspense is so horrible that you’re writhing in your chair, your stomach in knots. But it hurts good.

How Do We Pull It Off?

Just thinking about a few of my favorite books has isolated some traits worth working into our own writing: fast pace. High stakes. Deep, fearlessly written emotions. Characters with whom we empathize—not just (or even) likable, but empathy-worthy, because then their trials become our own. And finally, tension, whatever its source. Whether it’s pleasant or not.

Let guts be churned! Let hearts be wrenched! And in the morning, when you awaken, glassy-eyed, you’ll cry to your Significant Other, “You’ve got to read this!”