The Problem With Non-Fiction

I’m trying to work out exactly what my problem with non-fiction is. Just recently I’ve been especially interested in the genre, in the light of my intentions to try and write something of my own, and it seems to me that it’s a category of literature that has really shown creative development of late. Popular science and popular psychology have led the way into any number of intriguing interdisciplinary books, with literary history and biography – always a classy field – also spawning all kinds of fascinating, rich and varied texts. I’ve been reading any number of them, too, that ought to be exactly in the area that interests me most, which is to say, the study and uses of arts and literature, the collective mentality of contemporary society and the problems we encounter in a culture dominated by science and economics. And you know what? I haven’t been able yet to get to the end of a single one of them.

The problem with non-fiction seems to me that it’s just too easy to put down. And once you’ve put it down, it’s easy to lose the incentive to pick it back up again. Why ever should this be? One obvious reason must be the lack of plot. Biography has a plot of sorts, you could argue, although it’s inevitably going to be similar in structure on all occasions. Still, it may be why some of my best non-fiction reads ever have been biographies, notably Margaret Forster’s brilliant account of Daphne du Maurier’s life, and Miranda Seymour’s clever piecing together of the life of The Bugatti Queen, French motor racing driver and one-time showgirl, Hellé Nice. The other problem I think I’m finding in non-fiction works is that they tend to maintain the same emotional tone throughout, which, unless the author works very hard, tends towards the desiccated. To avoid the layer of academic dust, some authors go too far in raging polemic or slightly desperate joking, but this doesn’t really solve the problem. Once they’ve set the parameters of their voice, that’s pretty much the way it’s going to stay until the bitter end. I think that’s why I keep finding that a fragment of the whole seems sufficiently satisfying to me; there aren’t too many surprises in store.

Of course this could be just me, or it could be the books I’m picking, or it could even be the inner compulsion to write something along these lines myself that’s making me hyper critical. One of the reasons why I know I couldn’t produce a work of fiction is because there are too many fantastic authors out there that I admire too much. I feel discouraged even before I’ve finished the first sentence, recognising within its syntactical loop the influence of a hotch-potch of literary greats whom I could never hope to emulate. The fact I can’t find a non-fiction book I like gives me at least some small encouragement that I might be able to create something different. All this goes round and round in my mind, you understand, without my having written a single word of any potential book, so this perfect non-fiction vehicle is still in the realms of fantasy and speculation. There is one non-fiction author, however, whose work I think is truly wonderful, and that’s Francine Prose. She manages to mix biographical material, literary analysis and wonderful story telling in a voice that is never less than elegant and interesting. When I read her I can only marvel at what she does and see my own project diminish into a tiny speck on the horizon, featureless and indistinct. At that point I am very grateful to be able to pick up all those books I so carelessly discarded, if only on the grounds that they may be able to reassure me with their imperfections. But there’s little point in thinking only of what I don’t like; I need some creative inspiration too. If any bloggers out there have any thoughts on what makes a good non-fiction book, I would be very pleased indeed to hear them!

28 thoughts on “The Problem With Non-Fiction

  1. I think it needs a human voice, a recognizable, reassuring, zappy, funny, perceptive, intelligent, compassionate voice like yours.

    Seriously non fiction doesn’t grip as much as fiction because it is less often about people’s lives. Biography works because it is about people. Your book WOULD be about what matters to people.

    Go for it.

  2. I was thinking as I started to read your post: This is how I feel about fiction. And then, reading further, I thought: This is a writer-avoidance technique.

    I think you are right that you are seeing the drawbacks of and are highly sensitive to nonfiction, most likely because you are trying to write it.

    As a fiction writer (or, at least, one in waiting), I find nonfiction writing to be a sort of relief. No tricks! No messy metaphors! Nothing that I have to measure against my own writing! Sort of like slipping on a pair of comfy slippers after a 20-mile training hike in new boots.

    Anyway, as I recognized a mirror of myself in your words, I thought I’d share to see how this rings with you.

    What makes a good nonfiction book? Veracity, above all. I have to believe the facts and conclusions the author makes about the subject matter. And, now that I mention it: Subject matter. Seems obvious, but if I am not engaged in the subject, the author has a tough climb. (Example: I never could get into Seabiscuit.) BUT, if a writer is brilliant enough, he or she can take a subject I don’t feel particularly interested in and completely absorb me. (Example: The Perfect Storm. From the sinking of a little swordfish boat, Sebastian Junger educated me about the fishing industry and its history, weather patterns and the Navy SEALS.)

  3. Non-fiction, if written properly, can be every bit as compelling as fiction. I love history and love to read about it. My problem is that while I’m reading a big, thick non-fiction book, I’m thinking about all the fiction that I’m not reading! But if the subject is one that interests me, the writing is good, and the writer has done his/her research to back up his/her claims, then I am very happy to read a good non-fiction book.

    A couple of non-fiction books I’ve started (but put aside because of fiction reading) that are excellent are Doris Kearns Goodwin’s “Team of Rivals” (bio-history of Abraham Lincoln and his presidential cabinet) and Neil Hanson’s “Unknown Soldiers: The Story of the Missing of the First World War”.

  4. Kathryn, thank you for not just being so wonderfully encouraging, but for also being so astute on what nonfiction needs to work. And this is so selfless of you – you know that whatever I write ends up in your inbox… LK – You are right, we are mirror images of each other! I find that reassuring. And thank you for also making such interesting and helpful points. Sharon – I know exactly what you mean about fiction getting in the way; I rarely concentrate solely on a non-fiction work. It’s always running alongside fiction, and as soon as the latter gets gripping, well… Thank you also for the recommendations and the advice. I do appreciate it!

  5. You’re right that it can be so, so depressing to read fabulous fiction when you are in the midst of trying to write it yourself. But I have a friend who once told me, “Good writers shouldn’t depress you; they should make you want to exceed yourself,” and then added, like Hobs, that the most important thing to do is to make sure you write every single day. I think the problem with so much nonfiction is that what would really have made a very good journal article gets turned into a full-length book, and it’s hard to sustain. However, I do find some nonfiction to be just as riveting as fiction (usually when it’s some “true story” that reminds me of fiction, like A CIVIL ACTION).

  6. I have to agree that when you read something really beautiful even though most of me is rejoicing in it, there is a very small part of me that is howling inside that (a) I now will never be able to write that exact thing, and (b) I will never be able to write that well fullstop. Whereas bad writing, sloppy, poorly thought-out prose can be inspiring, convincing you that you are so much better than that. I choose to see this not as sad, but as proof that inspiration can be found in the most unlikely places…

    As to non-fiction being easier to leave down once you have put it down, I don’t think it’s inevitable. I once found a book about Cod fascinating, so it can’t be the subject matter that’s determinative – it must be the voice. Personality is the difference betweeen a guidebook (useful facts presented in a logical format) and travel writing (strong, visual, personal, evocative) – but both are non-fiction.

  7. Haha Litlove,

    If it didn’t make me such I nerve I would rejoice daily in my love of non-fiction.What makes great non-fiction is first and foremost content. Well chosen, well researched and thoughtfully constructed content. After that I have seen a variety of methods work. Careful and diligent like the research describes the bulk of it but there’s polemic, shooting from the hip and rapid like Freakonomics, fresh narrative excellence like Rubicon, more old school narrative like any of Bruce Catton’s Civil War works, comedic flourishes like Bryson or purposeful and direct like Furgeson’s Empire and Colossus.

    What makes non-fiction or good non-fiction is like any text, good content and good writing.
    Great question!
    Eoin

  8. I think that the problem with most non-fiction is that it is difficult to create drama an mystery in a longish, non-fiction work. Any time you try to create narrative tension, your editor will tell you that you are “burying the lead.” The expectation is that you will come right out with a thesis. This will be followed by support and collatoral materials. Sometimes non-fiction is well-written and interesting in and of itself, of course. A Civil Action, mentioned above, is a perfect example of this, as are many similar historical works tightly focussed around a temporal sequence.

    But most other genres do not lend themselves to sequential narratives like that, or not easily. Many books on science and technology, business, economics, sociology, psychology, etc., I think, need to be read in a different way. Instead of reading them like a novel, starting at the front and working towards the back, they yield much more value, much more quickly, when you read the introduction, then the first paragraph of each chapter, then the conclusion, then start looking for the supporting materials while critically evaluating them.

    My standard strategy for reading in graduate school was to skip around a book as quickly as possible attempting to prove that the author was wrong. To do that, of course, you have to outline their argument, their method, the materials that they feel support their argument, and their purpose for writing the thing in the first place. Usually after you do all that you know what’s in the book pretty well. It isn’t as enjoyable as reading fiction, of course.

    I love the implication of your post, that non-fiction writers should vary their tone. I’d love to see that sort of thing in action.

  9. I’ve been researching blindness for a novel and have come across 3 n/f books that fall into my All-time Great Reads category for the quality of their writing and being hard to put down. They were PLANET OF THE BLIND by Stephen Kuusisto, SIGHT UNSEEN by Georgina Kleege and TOUCHING THE ROCK by John M Hull, which Oliver Sacks called “a masterpiece”. Hull’s narrative is particularly gripping as he charts the gradual loss of sight, descent into despair and his eventual accceptance of blindness as a sort of gift.

    All three were written by blind authors and I’m now very interested to know if the quality of their writing and – pardon the pun – their insight are related to their blindness.

    I’m one of many readers who found Kay Redfield Jamieson’s memoir of manic depression, AN UNQUIET MIND impossible to put down. It’s as racy as a novel and a good one for reading groups.

    Finally, as a non-scientist I recommend Rupert Sheldrake’s THE SENSE OF BEING STARED AT (subtitled “and other aspects of the extended mind”). If you’re interested in the senses, ESP, telepathy, premonitions or animals you will find much to enjoy in this very readable volume. And your jaw will drop.

    What I look for in non-fiction is passion, insight and clarity of expression. These books didn’t disappoint.

  10. I like to read collections of essays on various subjects. I suppose my attention span is not long, so I do tend to tire easily of a longer non-fiction book that seems to repeat the same basic point(s) over and over again. However, if its a book about books and reading, I’m seldom bored no matter what. I agree with you about Francine Prose and admire both her fiction and non-fiction. Recently, I finished Reading Like a Writer and enjoyed it very much.

  11. I’m experiencing that “why bother” feeling right now, deep as I am in the middle of reading Anna Karenina. It seems so perfect that can’t imagine why another novel was ever written. But I’ll get over that, I’m sure …

    Thinking about what grips me with non-fiction lead me to travel writing. When it’s good, it can be very, very good. It charts a narrative (going from here to there), contains the unexpected, allows for authorial voice as the writer records his or her responses to things and is the springboard to other stories. I think if a piece of non-fiction contained these elements it would grip me, which, sadly it usually doesn’t. I enjoyed books like Cod that were so popular a couple of years ago, but really had to force myself to finish them – which points to what you say about the less gripping quality of some, not all, non-fiction. However, Reading Like a Writer sounds fascinating as do the books on blindness mentioned above.

  12. First I’d like to say to all of you, thank you so much for your helpful and insightful comments – this is all very useful to me! Emily – excellent thoughts. You are so right that too much of it is extended beyond its natural length, because endless padding is so very easy. I should also try to write every day, it’s true. Aimee – I love your distinction between a guidebook and travel writing. That’s so clear. And LOL about the cod! Eoin – absolutely so. It’s got to be the content that drives it, and then as you say, a coherent framework around that. Caveblogem – you hit the nail on the head when you say nonfiction authors get hopelessly bound to the thesis; it ought to be allowed to emerge as part of the investigation rather than be explained upfront and endlessly repeated. And it’s also true that it can, on occasion, be hard to make nonfiction entertaining. Linda – thank you for some excellent recommendations that we will now all be looking out for, I think! Del – I think your instincts are very intriguing here – that little jewel of an explored idea is so much more satisfying than loads and loads of informative stuff. That’s a thought I’ll be carrying with me. Charlotte – what a coincidence! I have just bought Anna Karenina and will be reading it as soon as I’ve finished my current books. The concept of travel writing as a kind of ideal, particularly in the way you describe it, is immensely helpful.

  13. I started Nancy Huston’s essays and I can’t put them down. (I’ll post about them as soon as I’m done with them). I guess it’s the voice (like having a friend talking right to you) and the subject. Since there is no plot, it really must be a subject you care about.

  14. I sometimes find myself getting a bit bored about halfway through nonfiction reads, at least the type that doesn’t have a narrative arc like biography does. But even in biography, like you say, you know how it turns out. For me, it’s that I feel like I’ve figured out what the writer’s doing, and have only to see that in action, again and again, and it feels repetitious. So a good nonfiction book for me is one that isn’t so easy to figure out — that has twists and turns (of action or of idea) that keep me reading on.

    I should read Francine Prose, I see!

  15. I’ve been thinking about this topic myself lately, and mixing more non-fiction into my reading pile so as to feel, as I approach the bottom of the stack, that I might have “learned something.” No offense to fiction and poetry, but they can get away with merely pleasing me, and, if all I learn about is how fiction and poetry work, well, that’s not a bad thing, but, how does the rest of my world work?

    So I was glad to see the name Oliver Sacks mentioned (and Bill Bryson too, but mostly Sacks) in Linda Gillard’s comment (Hello, Linda. Have we met?) because I’ve never run across an author who brings such a storyteller’s sensibility to the task of reporting on the rigorously analytical and scientific subject matter of his day job. Does everybody already know this? Mostly volumes of essays, these books about Sacks’ clinical practice feature a cast of characters so profoundly extreme their case histories defy belief. In fact, if these stories were fiction, their unbelievability would be their biggest weakness. As nonfiction, though, they couldn’t be more compelling.

    The characters are damaged, but it’s not their injuries that make them interesting. They apprehend their worlds in astonishing ways that always teach us something about the way we interact with ours. Instead of concentrating on the mechanics of the assorted brain injuries, traumas, diseases and congenital defects his subjects have suffered, Sacks explores their new and radically altered humanity.

    The essay form obviates the question of long narrative arcs. The variety of ways in which our brains can be messed with springs fresh surprise every 20 pages or so. And Sacks is a true compassionate as well as a very experienced clinician. I’ve never been able to put one of his books down.

  16. I wish I could give you some good ideas for NF reads, but I am a bad NF reader. I put more NF books aside than any others. You are right, once I put it down I have to make myself pick it back up again,and it may be interesting, but I just want to read a novel usually. One book I remember being literally glued to was Wild Swans a biographical book about three generations of Chinese women–I liked it so much because it read like fiction!! There is the key for me. I hope to read the Colette bio that Dorothy read (if I ever finish the lone NF that I am reading now). I will have to read the bio about Daphne DuMaurier you mention–that sounds good!

  17. Pauline – I’ll be very interested to read your thoughts on Nancy Huston. I’m sure you’re right and that voice has to be the deciding factor. LK – just keep on telling me, LK. If you tell me enough to do it, I will! Dorothy – I see you respond exactly the same way I do. I always feel tempted to give up if I know what’s coming. David – Now Oliver Sacks is someone I’ve long been meaning to read. I do get him confused with Oliver James, who is another psychologist but of the thesis-building variety. I will definitely be reading Sacks – may I recommend Adam Phillips to you? He is my all-time favourite essayist who happens to be a psychoanalyst too. Danielle – it’s always a comfort to me to think we respond the same! You know I met the author of Wild Swans when she came to do a reading at the bookshop I worked in. She was lovely – reserved and elegant. And yes, I do think you’d like the Daphne du Maurier bio!

  18. I tried to comment yesterday but was at work and got interrupted. You are one of my guilty work pleasures Litlove 🙂 Anyway, I always try and have at least one nonfiction book going at a time. For me to enjoy nonfiction the author must be engaging and not dull and pedantic. They have to assume the reader’s intelliegence and not talk down to me. And they have to find a way to take facts and put them in context, in a kind of story. It doesn’t have to be a linear narrative, but there has to be some kind of story otherwise I hae a hard time being interested. I have no doubt Litlove, that you will write a very good book of nonfiction.

  19. An NF book I’m reading now that’s really working for me is “Doing Nothing” by Tom Lutz. It’s a history of slacking–a subject that intrigues me :-)–and the authorial voice is honest and self-deprecating and funny. So I’m reading it as much for Lutz’s particular take on the subject as for the information he unearths.

    I have to be invested in the author’s experience to stay till the end. I think my stick-with NF authors deliberately pull back and personalize the content when the research threatens to overwhelm.

  20. Litlove–You have such good stories when it comes to meeting famous people! I would love to hear authors talk–unfortunately Omaha is not on the lecture circuit for many/any authors! I still like your Lynley/Nathaniel Parker story!

  21. I myself used the excuse of non-fiction because I couldn’t get to grips with writing “that difficult first novel”. So I began my autobiography, having led an interesting life in the music business..but the novel kept coming back like an itch that needed scratching! I’ve surrendered to its siren song now, and, page by page its coming together, painfully! A wonderful autobiography that I couldnt put down was “Crazy from the Heat” by David Lee Roth. Not so much that it was written well, but it revealed him to be a very surprising man indeed, wel-read, and a great deal more to him than his “Mr.Showbiz” persona. It certainly lived up to the well-worn “unputdownable” tag.

  22. Brown Paper – I had heard of that book and been intrigued. I will definitely seek it out now, after your recommendation. Thank you! Danielle – You know, in my mind there is a better ‘Litlove meets Nathanial Parker’ story!! Kev – first of all, the very best of luck with that novel. I can’t do dialogue or plot, so fiction is probably out for me. Thank you also for another excellent recommendation – I hadn’t heard of the book before but will certainly check it out now.

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  24. Hello. This is my first time on the this blog. I am a writing enthusiast but also a beginner. A basic question: what, exactly, is narrative arc? Speaking of good non ficiton, I could not put down Tracy Kidder’s Mountains beyond Mountains. Can you help me understand what the narrative arc of that is?
    Thanks, Neophyte

  25. Hello Neophyte and welcome! It’s good to have you visit. A narrative arc is a term that aims to describe the general direction in which a story is going. I guess you could equally call it a kind of overview of the plot, in which you see where the story wants to end up. I hope that helps; do ask again if it’s still not clear!

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