I’m finding a distinct difference between books that leap from action scene, to debrief, to big bad final boss scene, and those that focus on the small things; the crack in the wall, the dirt under the fingernails, the tiny lark in the summer sky.  Both reach their final goal admirably, and both satisfy a need, maybe of different people, or of the same person at different times of the day or different stages of their life.

Equating reading to a meal, the former is biting down huge chunks of burger and bun, relishing the relish, savouring the flavours, but ultimately desiring quick satiation. The latter is nibbling on a fresh salad, taking the cucumber from between the slices of tomato to be enjoyed separately, crumpling the lettuce leaf on your fork and enjoying the sensation of cold water droplets on your tongue. Carefully wiping the lightly spiced dressing from your lips with a finger.

My first book (“The Jracon’s Burden” – shameless plug!), was the former, I wanted a fast-paced grind, with sprinklings of cliffhangers.  My current work in progress is a different matter; I’m trying to taste the nuances as I go a little more; writing in greater depth about things that, while of no real consequence to the story, flesh it out and give colour to the palette.

I’m such a newbie writer that I wouldn’t even think to consider which I style prefer to write in, but I can see that I appreciate both.  Maybe my first work was a cathartic release, metaphorical flood gates if you like.  Maybe I can now settle down to a slower pace, because I am certainly an observational kinda chap in real life; I like to watch the world go by, and know how things work, so the minutiae is often of great interest to me.

But I do love a good page turner!

I guess time will tell?


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