The way we read

Zoetrope has given me an interesting glimpse into the way we read.

I posted an story for review recently, one that I wrote more than a year ago. I've tightened up the wording since then. It was well written, but it still wasn't working for me. I posted it, hoping that some of the reviews would provide insight. Fortunately, two of the reviews did.

The other two reviewers really liked the story, which is nice for the ego, but doesn't help much.

I found it interesting that people read into a story what isn't there. I got comments on things my characters did which they didn't do. And one person wrote

You said that he "acted like Superman" in your synopsis . . .

While this was my synopsis:

A self-doubting young man finds his spine while making a beer run.

Admittedly, Superman is in the title. The working document was just called Robbery. I only gave it a name to post it.

I'm terrible at naming. We waited until our children were born to name them, and the younger one was not named until the next day, when Kurt and I kicked everyone else out of the hospital room. Alone with the new baby, we finally named her.

But back to how we read. I found that I made the same mistakes. I read quickly, allowing my mind to fill in the blanks, and did not separate my own memories from what was actually written.

I usually reciprocate reviews, so I printed out a story and took it to work, to read in down time. The story took place in Haiti during the earthquake. The writer had an intriguing protagonist, but the piece came across as matter-of-fact instead of tense. I made a notation next to one paragraph that there was too much use of passive tense. I wanted to be closer to the action.

Yet when I wrote the review, I found that the paragraph I had marked was the only one in the passive tense. I think the reader's distance from the scene was caused by the omniscient voice.

My bad.

I find people's misinterpretations to be useful knowledge. It tells me where I need to be clearer, and where I've left too much to the imagination. I tend to write sparingly. I don't describe people or furnishings, unless you need to know that the room, furnished only with a mattress and a peeling, turquoise painted chair, was lighted by a bare bulb. But for the most part, the coffee house can look like whatever you think a coffee house should look like. So when I'm not leading a reader to the conclusion I want them to draw, I need to know.

I think writing will make me a more careful reader.

Meanwhile, I carry dinner to work (my lunch break is abut 5:30 or 6 pm), and we have no sweets, so I am off to make cookies. I'm thinking molasses crinkles. Easy, cheap, long shelf life. And I don't plan to make them this big. That's pro size.

Molasses Crinkles

325˚ 15 min. 15 cookies (coffeehouse size)

1 1/2 cup shortening

2 cups brown sugar

2 eggs

1/2 cups molasses

4 1/3 cups flour

4 t baking soda

2/3 t salt

2 t cloves

2 t cinnamon

2 t ginger (crystallized or powder)

(optional: cardamon, nutmeg, mace)

Cream shortening and sugar well. Add in eggs, then molasses. Add dry

goods. Scoop with blue (4T) scoop. Place in sugar, then place on

parchment with sugar side up. Put 3 fingers in water, then press on top of

cookie.