As a lifelong fan of Mormon Literature, who spent a decade writing book reviews, I’ve had deep thoughts about the role of critics in our culture, specifically in Mormon literary culture. Back when I was a ‘wise’ college senior, I thought writing reviews would help improve how people viewed the work of LDS artists. During that time, I’d visit the second floor of the Harold B. Lee Library at Brigham Young University, find another book in the religious fiction section, read it, review it, and post it to my book review blog. I wasn’t the only person with this idea. Novelist, Robinson Wells, articulated in his 2018 Whitney Award speech that he, too, thought the “fix” for “elevating” the Mormon Literature market was to write more reviews of LDS works. Then he concluded that critique alone, “was not the way to fix the market because…the market didn’t need fixing. The Whitney Awards were a switch from pessimism to optimism. They were the realization that LDS Fiction is really good.”
As a prolific reader and writer, I’ve often pondered the limitations of negative feedback and the benefits of positive feedback. What type of reviews support literary culture? In April 2019, my piece, “An Essay about Anita,” discussed the literary career of Anita Stansfield, one of the most prolific authors of LDS fiction. I acknowledged the weaknesses of her storytelling, but also argued that her strengths were underappreciated. I explained how studying her work could teach valuable lessons to creators. The Association of Mormon letters promoted the essay and Anita herself responded, “After twenty-five years of treading water in this industry, I can’t tell you how validating and refreshing your essay was to me. Bottom line: THANK YOU FOR NOTICING!… It was deeply gratifying to read evidence that my efforts in the past to make a difference through my writing have been noticed; it might actually give me the will to keep going.”
This connection with an author I admired deeply influenced my view of how learning to appreciate art can inspire both the reader-reviewer and author to produce both more and greater art. Moving forward from this interaction, I became more focused on how to show others the strengths of a work. I experimented myself with different ways of interacting with the literature I read. I drew illustrations inside the cover, colored interior pages, paired titles with other material culture, and related novels to other works of art. Appreciating art has its own set of lessons to teach. I hope more people can experience these fruits of appreciating art, instead of only focusing on critique.
The first step is to recognize the art of writing encompasses a variety of skills. Some writers have so many ideas they could fill the pages of an entire library of books and still have some leftover. Other writers possess persistence, some have intuition, some master plot, others rule character. Some nail narrative, others detail. Some produce in a whirlwind of creation, and others plod along slowly. Some have a knack for concepts, others drafting. Some relish revising, others prefer to polish. An English professor creates lists of what they consider legitimate writing skills. These skills must be adhered to, mastered, and cultivated. I’m going to lobbying for a skill that doesn’t necessarily make the syllabus since it’s more of an art: the art of appreciation.
Creators complain about how fans approach them after reading their book or watching their play and offer explanations about how to fix their work. This can even be the first thing they say. Not, “Wow, how’d you develop a knack for setting scenes up at precisely the right moment? How’d you learn how to mine all the dramatic tension out of a specific setting? How did you learn how to translate points of view different from your own?” Unless a creator themselves, a person cannot appreciate all the work that goes into finishing a book, for example. Writing well qualifies as invisible labor. A writer can do a thousand things right in a book, and few notice. And if no one notices, they’ve done their job.
Focusing only on a writer’s mistakes is similar to walking through an art gallery color-blind. Do you overlook the color blue? Imagine missing blue in Vincent Van Gogh’s, The Starry Night. Disregarding the color blue would diminish the swirls conveying the vast, galaxy-containing wonder of the night sky. Do we overlook amazing things in our literature because we’ve decided some hues hold more value than the others? Often, we can miss an opportunity to deepen our understanding. Appreciation for Mormon Literature allows us to push past the limitations we’ve placed on ourselves and our community and ascend new creative summits. So, at the start of this new year, my unconventional writing advice is this: Learn how to appreciate a writer’s strengths. Feel free to throw a book across the room because you hate it, but before you leave it like trash on the ground, consider five things you appreciate about it first
