—An Essay by Nicole Hunter—
Originally Posted in Spring 2006
“This book discussion was better than two hours of therapy.”
“I was furious about the ending—I threw the book across the room!”
“The book felt like my life story.”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight.”
“I loved Thomas Olsen.”
“I think Thomas Olsen was a stalker.”
“This book made me think about how often I judge people without really knowing them.”
…just a few of my favorite quotes from readers I’ve met in library groups, book clubs, and high school classrooms, discussing my novel Waiting for the World to End.
Taking my novel on the road is essential to my commitment to share ideas, encourage dialogue, and help build bridges of empathy between people. Waiting for the World to End provokes readers of all ages to consider and clarify personal beliefs, and encourages them to keep their minds and hearts open to people who have made other choices or hold different opinions.
In her book The Argument Culture, the linguist Deborah Tannen examines what she calls “America’s war of words” in which "our spirits are corroded by living in an atmosphere of unrelenting contention."
Tannen writes, “In moving away from a narrow view of debate, we need not give up conflict and criticism altogether. Quite the contrary, we can develop more varied—and more constructive—ways of expressing opposition and negotiating disagreement.
“It will take creativity to find ways to blunt the most dangerous blades of the argument culture. It’s a challenge we must undertake, because our public and private lives are at stake.” (290)
I use Waiting for the World to End as one of the creative solutions Tannen says we need.
Every group has its own unique life and energy, so I don’t follow a set or static model for book discussions. And I like to create a welcoming atmosphere for readers to share not only what resonated and was meaningful for them about the book, but also what they didn’t like about the characters or about my writing.
Often I start group conversation by quoting the reviewer from a well-known publication who first praises Waiting for the World to End for its exploration of “the complexities of life and opportunities for redemption,” then adds that by the end of the book, the only feeling she has left for main character Mary Wendling “is the desire to slap her” (a good addition for my favorite quotes list above). After we’re done laughing, everyone in the group knows I mean it when I invite them to be honest in our dialogue.
Our talking freely about what students or group members didn’t like creates a sense of trust that allows more personal (and potentially helpful) insights: the fictional character who evokes the family member or friend who hurt us so deeply—or who reminds us of something we dislike in ourselves; choices we made and believed in that still, somehow, led to regret, and how that regret has shaped our faith and our future.
A kind and gentle woman at one of my library book discussions said, “I don’t believe any parents could be as cold to a child as the Olsens were to Thomas.” I told the group that the Olsens are closely based on actual parents with whom I’ve been well acquainted. Then group members opened up into good discussion about our different perspectives and experiences in that regard. When we parted that night, it was with more empathy: the kind and gentle woman had grown from considering my sobering thought, and I had grown from her uplifting one.
High school students show tremendous insight in classroom dialogue and a natural ease in relating the characters in Waiting for the World to End to their families and social circles. They like talking about choices, faith, parents, high school basketball, love, and doing the right thing—all key elements in the book. And students express strong and fond interest in the English teacher and basketball coach Thomas Olsen, who looks like he’s got the world under his thumb but is actually just waiting for it all to end.
Most students want much more for Olsen than he believes he deserves—an indication that compassion is alive and well in their hearts, especially since Olsen is notably flawed and not necessarily a likable character.
Years ago, a mentor shared with me a technique from the great writer Josip Novakovich’s book Writing Fiction Step by Step ~ creating a biography for each of my characters using Novakovich’s fill-in-the-blanks outline, featuring items including ~
• Height & weight
• Unusual facial and bodily features
• Bathing habits
• Driving habits
• Sleep patterns
• Obsession (public or private)
• Sins
…wait a minute—sins? My first reaction to that item was, “I can’t let my hero have any sins! Readers won’t like or admire or root for my hero if he’s flawed. He needs to be more of a model citizen, give people something to shoot for.”
Then I remembered my favorite heroes tend to be a bit anti-heroic, spilling over with sins, flaws and missteps—and are probably my favorites because there’s such solace in knowing I’m not alone, and because I perhaps can learn a little something from how they handle their fictional mistakes.
My Heroes Hall of Fame includes such unlikely honorees as
• On-the-skids professor Grady Tripp in Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon
• Ex-con Socrates Fortlow in Walter Mosley’s Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned
• Renegade and mercenary Francis Crawford of Lymond in Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond Chronicles series
• The brilliantly befuddled Jack Gladney in White Noise by Don DeLillo
There are so many things that divide us as a human family—but I do believe we can stay true to our beliefs while still keeping our minds and hearts open to other people. The American poet Robert Bly calls it “living between the opposites.” From Bly’s classic Iron John: A Book About Men ~
“We can talk, then, of living between the opposites. To live between them means that we not only recognize opposites, but rejoice that they exist. . .To live between we stretch out our arms and push the opposites as far apart as we can, and then live in the resonating space between them.”