A couple of years ago I finally joined TikTok, and, after some algorithm-training about the things I actually wanted to see and those I wanted to avoid, overall I have found it a fascinating platform. I've got some videos on there, but it's hard to find the time and enthusiasm to post with any regularity. Anyway. I discover'd the crazy world of BookTok!

BookTok has had a not-insignificant impact on the publishing industry. Not everybody is happy about that. Like any social media platform, the most entertaining, loud, and opinionated people get boosted the most by the algorithm. This leads to a lot of weird book discourse. A lot of bad takes like audiobooks don't count as reading. It might have led to the rise of, gasp!, Romantasy, and also takes that this Romance/Fantasy subgenre is taking over Fantasy in general.

But that's all by-the-by. I want to discuss a somewhat less sexy subject: pacing. Why is it that I almost always get frustrated when reviews start complaining about pacing issues, whether it's that the pacing is too slow, or too uneven? To begin with, I think pacing is a lot more important in visual media like films and comics, and less so in books. I particularly find myself being irked when the complaint is that the pacing is too slow; I just want to unhumbly suggest that maybe the reviewer isn't patient enough! Take your time and maybe read with more consideration for the character development, and exploration of the world of the story.

The complaint is often levied against Tolkien. Perhaps this is the source of my disgruntlement. You don't disparage J.R.R., man! It seems to be a plea for action, a plea for plot progression, a plea for excitement and entertainment. We should not reduce books, of all things, to these few aspects. Many books call for so much more than merely action and entertainment, and require so much more of an active engagement with the reader, as opposed to the more passive engagement of a movie.

Crank, starring Jason Statham, is defined by it's fast pacing. Think Speed, but instead of a vehicle that can't slow down or else it'll explode, it's Statham's heart; he has to keep his heart rate up-up-up or he'll die. It's maybe the Stathamest of all the Statham movies. You don't get much in the way of character development or plot. And of course Crank 2: High Voltage exists. Movies only have 90-180 minutes to keep your attention. Comics generally only have 32 pages, and I can usually read an issue in 15 minutes or so, depending on how long I linger on the artwork. There are plenty of books that follow this basic tactic, and thrillers do sell excellently, year after year.

Don't expect Tolkien to follow that mode. Or anyone following in his general footsteps. I am glad that the fantasy genre has grown beyond Tolkien's influence, but there are still plenty of lessons to be learned from his narratives. One of those lessons is that you are allowed to slow down your narrative, let your characters catch a breath, take a trip, explore and observe the world around them; take their time to ponder their places in that world, in that narrative, and wax philosophic. The benefits of this tactic are manifold: as a reader you get to experience the world of the narrative more deeply, connect with the characters more personally. You become invested. It does often take some patience and perseverance on the part of the reader. If you're listening to the audiobook, maybe slow it back down from the 3x speed you usually listen at, and actively listen. Try not to skim over the descriptive passages. Revel in them as I do! If the author is any good at a sentence level, indulge yourself in listening to the music of the prose, and if you're not listening to the audiobook, maybe read it out loud to yourself. Feel the language, the vibrations it makes. (Also, thinking of Tolkien, don't skip the goddam poems!! They are as much a part of the narrative he's building as anything else.)

Literature, also, is not music. It does not necessarily need the ebbs and flows of a symphony or concerto or pop song. An author might choose to use that analogy to structure their writing, and I imagine it would work well. Truthfully, I'm not entirely sure why the idea of uneven pacing, and why it might be bad, irks me. Maybe because I don't tend to even consider it when I'm reading something. I have an aversion to that level of critique, generally. I don't want to feel as though I have strict criteria to judge what I'm reading: I just want to take each book as it comes, and take it for what it is; recognize maybe what the book is trying to be, and considering whether it is that thing, or not, despite itself, and either way the book could be incredible; a lot of truly excellent books do not fit comfortably into any one category.

Old soul is what adults would call me when I was young. Never knew how to react that, really. Thanks? They meant it as a compliment, obviously, but to my mind it just meant I didn't fit in that great with my peers (which was true, let's face it). But I have, privately, always been a bit of a curmudgeon. It's not my favorite aspect of myself. Even in middle school I was thinking kids these days. If anything I think I've softened since then. Kids these days, from what I've seen, are, on the whole, all right. You know, as all right as kids have ever been.

So yeah, when I find myself getting irritated by the weird opinions of others, I try to avoid thinking what's WRONG with these people?, rather why might this be a take at all, valid or not? Where's this coming from? Pacing is possibly the least of these, but a good place to start; a small thing to get off my chest. Eases the need to gripe elsewhere.

I make no bones about these posts being a bit rambly but I mostly try to stay on topic. A strange side-effect of the rise of what is popularly referred to as AI, is that I feel justified in leaning into my personal, stream-of-consciousness style, being a little weird, with run-on sentences and a love of alliteration. Let's ya'll know I'm human. In another era I might be typing this up on a typewriter and photocopying and stapling and dispersing thru the zine scene. The beautiful thing is that even in this era, the zine scene is thriving; people choosing to go low tech, hands on, create a personal physical artifact. Love that shit.