My book club, I have to admit, is a picky group.
In fact, I don’t believe I can recall attending a single meeting where the group was in agreement. Usually, the group is divided between folks who liked a book and disliked it. Frequently, actually, my book club could be divided into folks who loved a book and hated it.
On Thursday, though, amazingly, they all enjoyed the same book—Crank.
If you haven’t read it, Crank is usually classified as a YA book. It’s not a lighthearted read…it covers a life being destroyed by meth.
So why would a group of suburban women from age 35—50 enjoy the book so much?
From what I picked up from the individual comments, it was the author’s astonishingly unique approach (the book is written in poetic form, but as a narrative. The columns could all be read more than one way) and the fact that they felt it could happen to them…that their normal, high-performing, soccer-playing child could be consumed by the same monster that consumed the teenager in the book.
The teenager in the book was a straight-A high school junior who was completely transformed.
The conversation on the typesetting alone lasted about twenty minutes. And you’d have to see it to believe it—absolutely brilliant. I imagine that the book must have cost a mint for the publisher to produce—only few words on each page and a lot of pages.
I think the publisher knew it was going to be a huge hit. It became a bestselling—a book of poetry. That’s like a musical becoming a Hollywood blockbuster.
What was interesting to me, as a writer, was that this book club meeting dragged on way past my bedtime. :) These women weren’t going anywhere. They talked and talked about the book. They worried about their children. They blamed the mother in the book, then forgave her.
Although I don’t write cautionary tales, I’m always very interested in what strikes a chord with readers. Y’all know that I keep an eye on the market too, but this is a little different. This is writing with the reader in mind.
I know I couldn’t pull off a book like Crank, nor would I want to—because it’s been done so successfully already.
But I like the idea of creating situations where readers say “this could happen to me.” Something that pulls them into the story and makes them feel as if it was happening to them. Of a troubled protagonist who is deeply flawed. None of those women in that room had experience with the dark underbelly of the drug world. But it struck a chord with all of them. They became empathetic with the drug-addicted teenager in the book.
None of them blamed the girl in the book. And I think, to create such a deeply flawed protagonist, we’d have to set it up so the character still comes off as sympathetic—more a victim of circumstances. And that’s a tricky balance: having a sympathetic protagonist who the reader won’t lose respect for—even though their actions are irresponsible or even dangerous.
Have you ever pulled off a character with huge personality flaws? Do you enjoy reading these types of characters?
Elizabeth – First, thanks for the tip about Crank. I’ve not read it, but I can certainly appreciate how the topic would really resonate with readers. You’ve made such a good point, I think, about the importance of characters with whom the reader identifies. If the reader can really see her/himself in one of the book’s roles, that draws the reader right in.
As you say, it’s not easy to create such a human, believable character and give her or him a glaring flaw or have him or her make a terrible mistake. But getting readers to think “That could be me” is part of the core of drawing them in.
I will read it. I am putting it on my list to get.
I can see where this would touch your group. They are experiencing it as mothers, as judge and jury, forgivers and then a small part of heart and mind perhaps identified with the youth–since they were that age once. Sounds brilliant.
T
I’ve heard a lot of buzz about this book. It’s really interesting how it impacted your entire book club. That’s obviously terrific writing!
Hard to do in the romance genre – I think it’s easier in other genres. Barry Eisler has an assassin people love, and Lee Child has garnered a lot of “sympathy” for Jack Reacher.
It’s getting INSIDE these flawed heroes and finding their redeeming qualities that helps readers accept them.
Terry
Terry’s Place
Romance with a Twist–of Mystery
I think the protagonist in The Remains of The Day was completely utterly flawed. It was so painful to see how well he hid the truth from himself and yet it would seem most readers had utmost sympathy for him. Lisbeth Sanders in The Millenium Trilogy is also deeply flawed – she’s a psychiatric nightmare of personality disorders, she’s self-destructive, violent, and LOVEABLE. So loveable is she that even though the book is written without too much grace, the plot is overburdened with detail, and there are holes big enough to drive the proverbial through – zillions of people want to read the book. Why? Because they love Lisbeth. I wish I could hang around with such flawed characters longer in order to write them but I don’t think I could stand it. After all, as writers we spend much more time with these folks than the readers do! How about Scarlett O’Hara? Becky Sharp in Thackeray’s Vanity Fair? I’m going to stop now – I have some writing to do!
If a book makes readers love it or hate it, I will usually find it interesting. It means the book has provocative power, and challenge your view and perception of the world. That’s the characteristic of a good book >:)
Cold As Heaven
The main character in my first book came with a lot of flaws – almost too many – and I think I pushed the limit of what readers will tolerate.
Margot–That did seem to be what pulled them all in–the fact that this could happen to their child or could happen to their friend’s child, etc. They seemed particularly interested in the fact that the girl was such a good student, such a good kid…before it all went downhill.
Teresa–It almost sounds like you were a fly on the wall at my book club! Yes, they were remembering back when they were teens, they were thinking about their own children, they were fussing about the mom’s parenting skills (most of them were moms of younger children). It really touched them on a variety of different levels.
Jan–Oh, good example with Lisbeth. Maybe readers want to save the character? Or they’re just hoping something good will happen for her, finally? She’s not someone you can really *empathize* with (at least, I couldn’t), but I definitely connected with her. And my world is totally different from hers.
Cold As Heaven–The meetings are always interesting. I usually like to really get a feel of the pulse of the readers in the club. What did they hate about a book? What made them turn the pages? What made them decide not to finish it? Sort of a mini market study. :) And you’re right–when a book has the ability to divide people, there’s something very interesting and powerful about it.
Jemi–For *my* book club, it’s really saying a lot. :)
Alex–That’s what’s so interesting about it–the fact that there really is such a fine line between creating someone the reader connects to and someone the reader is critical of. With this book, I don’t know if my book club *liked* the character…I think they felt sympathy for her. It’s hard to like someone who doesn’t like themselves…maybe it was almost like watching a train crash happening. You’re riveted and horrified.
I love Ellen Hopkins! I read her book Identical and it was astonishing. The structure of the pages and poetry alone was absolutely amazing.
I wrote a book from a flawed narrator perspective last year, and making her sympathetic enough for readers to identify with her was one of my biggest challenges.
I have heard of Crank, but this is the first review of it. It sounds like a powerful book. I’m glad the publisher had such faith in it.
It makes you wish you’d written it (when I say “you” I mean “me”).
Fascinating post–both as a review of the book and a study of readers. I knew very little about Crank and now I must put it on my list.
I’m sure any agent would tell you a book of poems about substance abuse would be the least likely thing to sell. Goes to show all the rules are meaningless when something is really, really good.
What an interesting post! We call crank in NZ ‘P’ or ‘meth’. It’s a huge problem in our country, but the government has stepped in and implemented a lot of resources to stop it from entering our borders. It’s also a drug prevalent among the wealthy sector because it’s, quite simply, expensive! Young, bright kids do fall through the cracks.
It’s great to see a book like Crank out there, and it needs to be written in a way that draws a reader’s sympathy/empathy/awareness from ALL those affected by it – seller, user, family, friends.
The book is on my list!
Terry–I think that was one of the pluses for “Crank.” The protagonist was very accessible and open about everything–it helped us get into her head.
Miriam–I’ll have to read it. I was completely dumbstruck by the way the columns were structured. Pure genius…very inspiring.
Helen–It does make me wish that! Ha!
Anne–That, I think, was the most amazing thing to me. An unknown poet handing a book to Simon and Schuster on drug abuse–in poetic form? With a complicated typeset? Her agent must have really believed in her–and and S&S clearly did.
A Certain Book–I think the design of the book was absolutely brilliant marketing (as well as just being smart, period.) Kids who maybe *wouldn’t* have read a book of poetry or a book on this subject matter could see the very basic cover (dramatic in its simplicity, I think), and find the book approachable just by the amount of white space on the pages…it would definitely draw in a reluctant reader. The message is stark and clear, the protagonist is accessible. She did an amazing job.
Oh how interesting. My daughter (15) loves Ellen Hopkins, and of course this was the first, but I’d never opened one. I should give it a look. You are right on the tricky protagonist… writing someone as sympathetic and not stupid and STILL getting pulled into this… tricky stuff.
Huge personality flaws? Is that when you feel it is okay to blackmail your father´s friends (who in time abused you)? At least I have tried to, but this example is not from a cosy novel ;)
Or is it when your reader accept that the killer is caught, but they feel pity for the robber? (I quite liked that response).
I am not sure I thought about it much when I began writing, but I am learning to create characters of all sorts – thanks to all the advice other writers send my way.
Hart–You could, actually, *just* take a look–open the book up to one of the pages where she has a sort of back and forth series of columns and see how many ways you can read a poem on it. Just looking at it from that respect is amazing!
Hi Elizabeth .. obviously a book worth looking out for .. and your review and comments about your book group and the book itself – interesting to say the least – it’s on my list – cheers Hilary