Seeking Immersion Conversion

“As a reader you recognize that feeling when you’re lost in a book, right? You know the one – when whatever’s going on around you seems less real than what you’re reading and all you want to do is keep going deeper into the story… Well, if you’re writing that book it’s real for you too.” ~Sara Sheridan

Lost and Loving It: I’m with Sara Sheridan. I love getting lost in a book—totally immersed in the world of story. For me the feeling includes losing track of time and of what else is going on around me; not wanting to stop and anticipating getting back to it between sessions; being left with a wonderfully dazed feeling at the end, and then reminiscing about it long afterward. At its best, an immersive read makes everything else fade from conscious thought. It’s like being in one of those sensory deprivation tanks, except all of your senses are tuned in to story. Even the physical book disappears—pages are turned by rote. In fact, one of the primary reasons I write is in an effort to replicate the immersive experience others have provided for me.

It’s not quite as straightforward as it is with reading, but on my best writing days I come very near to achieving total immersion. Very early on I found that, like Sheridan, I am readily able to lose myself in my own work. On these days I can very clearly see and feel my story-world, from whichever character’s perspective I am writing. It’s all so real.

I suspect that achieving this state results in some of my most original work. Besides, it can be a real rush! It’s what hooked me on this crazy-making gig, and it keeps me coming back.

Wading through, Floating Downstream, or Diving Deep? I’ve read quite a few wonderful books this year, but I’ve noticed that not all of them have provided me with the immersive experience I am describing. Some books are well-written, funny or sad, and even fast-paced, and yet I am not immersed. It’s more like being led along by story than being lost in story. Some make me feel like I’m wading through—they’re not deep, but the course to the destination is clear enough. And others feel more like tubing downstream—a lovely ride with periodic rapids, often with very pleasant scenery. These stories can be entertaining and relaxing, but they don’t provide an immersion experience.

“A good book should leave you slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it.” ~William Styron

There have also been a few that I suspect would be considered less well-written, and yet I am totally willing to dive in and be lured into the layered depths of story. The best, of course, are those that accomplish both—lyrical writing as well as a compelling lure to go deep. I love it when, as Styron describes, I am left exhausted once I’ve surfaced. A book like that is satisfying in ways that are obviously beyond being entertaining or relaxing.

Inconsistent Immersion Provider: 

“A reader is not supposed to be aware that someone’s written the story. He’s supposed to be completely immersed, submerged in the environment.” ~ Jack Vance

One of my favorite compliments is when readers who know me say, after reading my work, that they completely forgot about who wrote the story as they read. It’s a sign they may have been immersed. I can always tell when readers have actually been to my world. I’m talking about those who’ve truly gone deep, not just viewed it from afar. I can sense it in the knowing way they discuss the characters, in the often unexpected ways in which they connected with the story.

It’s a wonderful thing to have someone not only invest the time to read your work, but connect with it on such an intimate and personal level. It’s like someone actually visiting the world inside your head and not only finding it to their liking, but discovering a bit of themselves there. How cool is that? It’s like unveiling your soul’s light and not only having someone admire its shine, but feel its warmth or use it to provide some small measure of added illumination to their path. And those who have immersed themselves in my world, and have come back in some way changed or revitalized, encourage me to strive to be a better guide for others.

Of course I’ve also had readers who’ve just floated along on the surface, reporting back that they’ve had a pleasant ride. And then there are those who’ve waded in only far enough to suspect it’s not for them and turned back. Worst of all, there have been a few who seemed willing, even anxious for a swim, and turned away after dipping in a toe. Brrr.

I realize that every story has its right readers. Some might say good enough is good to go. But I’ve seen my progress. I’m not satisfied with an inconsistent conversion rate. I know I can continue to increase my percentages. It’s not just that doing so will be the difference in my pursuit of publication. Rather, it’ll make the difference as to whether or not I have a shot at making a career of this gig.

Easier Read Than Done: 

“Evolution dictates that the first job of any good story is to completely anesthetize the part of our brain that questions how it is creating such a compelling illusion of reality. After all, a good story doesn’t feel like an illusion. What it feels like is life.” ~Lisa Cron

Sometimes I feel like the world’s slowest learner. I read incisive craft books like Wired for Story, by WU’s own Lisa Cron, and I know that readers are relentlessly hunting for the elements of story from the first page, the first sentence. I read and reread the openings of books that have not only captured me, but have lured me to go deep. And I study those that… well, didn’t. I feel like I have a firm grasp on the critical concepts.

And then I open the doc to revise my own work.

Damn, what happened to that firm grasp? For me this lure to depth is a slippery little devil.

The goal is elusive. There are essential ingredients, but no sure formulas. Success will require both simplification and the addition of nuanced intricacy. I must strengthen essential story elements, eliminate detracting clutter, and increase tension, both internal and external. It’s a tall order. And, damn, am I ever shortsighted when it comes to analyzing my own shortcomings. It’s enough to make me short-tempered. Luckily I have towering mentors with longer patience and keener insight to the way forward. I am grateful for their example and continued belief in me.

Upping the Odds: 

“Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own.” ~William Hazlit

One thing that’s been very helpful is having had multiple readers’ feedback for multiple manuscripts. It’s extremely enlightening to see which openings have been more successful, and what is working and what is not. Study is necessary, but it really comes down to practice. So even a short story—heck, even a blog post—can be a learning experience.

One success will not ensure the next. But it’ll up the odds.

Hence, every attempt, success or failure, increases my odds for drawing in my right readers—those who can be enticed to dive deep, and who might even find illumination there. And hopefully the effort will not only lay open their secrets for them, but reveal my own to me as well.

How about you? Feeling ready for a dive? Do you crave immersion in your reading? Do you seek to provide it with your work? 

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Written to Death