This past weekend my husband was painting the walls leading down to our basement, and while he was doing that he had on the radio. At one point the commentator read off the school lunch menu—in French. How much more appetizing such things as pizza, salad and fruit cups sounded!
It made me wonder if I’d like to hear my current manuscript read aloud in French… It’s a lovely, lyrical language, isn’t it? More so than say, German. Certainly French is one of the more popular languages to learn, especially by high school girls!
The spoken word is one thing, but even the written word in any language has its own mystique, like music. Even if we don’t hear it aloud, there is a rhythm to it, a cadence that either works or doesn’t. I’ve read books where the writing is absolutely lovely but the story is a disappointment. I’ve also read books where the story is fabulous but the writing seems elementary. There’s almost nothing more exciting for a writer to read than a book where both aspects work.
Believe it or not, our discussion reminded me of a few things I’ve experienced at writer’s critique groups over the years. One of the advantages of belonging to a critique group is getting to read our work in front of an audience. Granted, that audience is comprised of fellow writers just ready to pounce on anything that doesn’t work (well, not if the critique group is a supportive one). It is made up of fellow writers with an eye—and ear—for things that can be improved.
I’ve been involved in many critique groups over the years, and occasionally we’ve had members who are natural (and sometimes professional) performers. Usually women, although this is certainly not limited by gender, it’s just that more women seem to have the desire and freedom to explore writing. Anyway, when a performer personality joins our group it’s always a treat to have them bring in and read their work. They can make almost anything sound wonderful!
Of course it’s up to the rest of us to learn to look past the performance, to see what’s on the page and critique that, not their performance. I usually suggest someone so gifted in performing have someone else read their work, so we’ll have an easier time seeing what’s on the page—judge the words alone. Because when a performer reads something, particularly when they read their own work and know not only which lines are intended to be the most powerful but how to impart that power through talents that have little to do with writing…it’s hard to know where the real power lies. In the words or in the performance.
That’s not to say we shouldn’t read our own work aloud, even in French if we know how. We might infuse in it all the emotion we can to accompany each scene. But for most of us it will still sound like someone reading in plain old English, with proper but not dramatic pronunciation. And we will more easily spot something that’s out of rhythm, or unclear, or words that might make a reader stumble. Readers may not read our work aloud, but they still “hear” it in their head.
And that’s the point.
So if you love to write, read your work aloud even if you’re not a performer. In fact it’s easier to spot areas that need work if you’re not a performer. Listen to the music of it, pay attention to what isn’t easily read and fix it.
Make it sound so good that to the human ear it won’t matter if it’s read in English…or French.
Join Me!