The Bent Page

I first learned the term “brevity cult” from author Neal Stephenson. He writes long books with enough detail to not only put you in the scene but to saturate every one of the five senses. Then he interlinks historical context with story elements. If that’s not enough he gets into all types of other factors from the hard sciences to sociology. These are the types of books I like to read and they are the type of books I write. (The first draft of my novel, An Island Away, was 1200 pages.) Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth is another example of a long book that is stunningly good. There are plenty more examples to be found, just search the shelves of your local bookstore.

The brevity cult, on the other hand, prefers short novels. There are plenty of these out there, too. I’ve read a few. They’re all broth, no meat, no vegetables, no flavor. Someone went somewhere, something happened, it’s over. The sentence structures are pared down to the bare bones with no variety, no winding paths, nothing to tickle the brain. They feature tons of dialog, as if a book and a play are the same thing. If I only want to hear people talk, I’ll go to the local bar and eavesdrop.

I’m not sure what publishers see in these short books. The public buys them in some numbers but they also rave about plenty of long books. I’m a bit insulted by a 197 page novel. That’s a short story where I come from. If three of them were put together in a collection it would be worth the cover price. However, I’m not plunking down righteous coin for so few pages.

Furthermore, I wonder if some authors are simply lazy. Often enough they don’t even label who’s speaking, which is fine until there are ten pages of dialog or four characters speaking. What’s the point of putting together a story and not fully developing it? If you’re going to ask the reader to spend some time between the covers, make it worth their while. Work hard, spin those plot threads among characters that are loved and hated, cherished or despised. If not, write magazine articles or shopping lists for that matter.

Oh, there is a name for these short books. They’re called “slender gems.” Well, if you think a lump of quartz is the same as a diamond, just try giving it to your wife. No, really honey, I mean it.