The 2 Elements You Need to Catch Readers in Your Net

Our goal as writers is to get readers to go on an emotional journey. Readers read to care, to feel, to experience. We need to ask: How can I get readers to go on this journey as played out in my story, especially since each reader’s journey is unique, different from everyone else’s?

There are many factors that impact the success of a story to “catch readers in a net” of wonder, as C. S. Lewis puts it. We want to lure readers into our story net, and that’s always a challenge. However, there are two primary elements that will ensure success.

Annie Dillard said: “There is no shortage of good days. It is good lives that are hard to come by. A life of good days lived in the senses is not enough. Who would call a day spent reading a good day? But a life spent reading—that is a good life.”

For us writers, reading is that precious. But better put: a day spent writing may not be a good day. But a life spent writing … well, that is the good life.

A life spent writing is a life of fishing … in order to catch readers in a net of surprisingness.

So how do we catch them in our nets?

Too often stories are just a string of events, with one thing happening after another, mostly plot and little heart. Now, there’s nothing wrong with a book with a great plot that takes you on a ride. Most of us love rides. Just head over to an amusement park any odd day and see how many people will wait in line an hour or two (or more) for a two-minute ride.

I enjoy a great ride of a novel. Some of my favorite novels have no point to them other than to entertain. And such entertainment can catch a netful of squirming, anxious readers!

Regardless of whether you are writing a book to simply give readers a thrilling (or dangerous) ride, or you want to explore what Faulkner said was the only thing that matters—the human heart in conflict with itself—you first must realize you are making a promise to take them on an adventure that immerses their senses and whisks them fully into your world. And you must keep that promise if you are to catch and keep readers entrapped!

If you’ve ever fished, you may know it’s a tricky endeavor. You might cast your line or fling your net over and over and get nothing. No takers. No nibbles. You wonder: Do you have the right bait? Is it the right season? Am I in the best place to catch a fish? Am I wasting my time? Maybe I should give up and park in front of the telly and watch Downton Abbey for the eighth time while consuming a box of bonbons.

The fishermen and women I’ve known never feel it’s a waste of time to fish, even if they catch nothing after many hours’ effort. There is something sublime in the effort, being immersed in nature and caught in eddies of lacksidaisical time. But what about writing?

Don’t we feel we are wasting time—more than that, feel like utter failures—when we keep casting our story nets into the world and come up empty-handed? When it seems like no one is biting on our line? When the demands of the world encroach and remind us of our “real” responsibilities? Writing, indeed, is a bit more complex and challenging than fishing for fish and often exacerbates our guilt and self-doubt.

Donald Maass says, “Your stories can not only reach readers for a moment, they can change them forever.” Which is what writers long to see happen. But “strong writing doesn’t automatically produce strong feelings,” he says. Therein lies the rub!

If you are writing a story with heart, hoping to impart and explore some themes, you want to avoid writing a book that is just a series of events. C. S. Lewis said, “All stories must be a series of events but the plot, as we call it . . . these events are only really a net whereby to catch something else.”

Ah, a trap! But there is nothing nefarious about the nets we set in place to ensnare our readers.

How do ensure we’re fishing properly, in the best way, to reap a robust harvest of happy readers? Lewis calls the plot of the story “the net whereby to catch something else.” That ”something” is what he calls “much more than a state or quality.”  That net of the story, for a little while, transcends us, and entangles us in the wonder and awe of living. That is what Lewis says the best stories will do. So a great adventure will entangle readers by getting them to ponder life and all its beauty and ugliness.

I believe there are two—just two—important elements that will make the difference between a full and empty net: the element of surprisingness and your very own passion.

Surprisingness

A story with heart should entangle us in a net of wonder, hold us dangling in the air by our toes over the turbulent surface of our lives and immobilize us momentarily. Many people’s lives may never entangle anyone like that. Maybe our life story rarely does. That is why readers yearn for stories that can do that. That can entrap and entangle and make­ us face “the sheer state of being.”

Do we read a book merely to be surprised? Well, have you ever read a book numerous times? Why in the world would you do that? You already know what’s going to happen, so why bother? Yet, some people reread particular books over and over again. I have some favorites like that. Clearly we don’t reread a book to be surprised by the plot. We know it already. According to Lewis, “The re-reader is looking not for actual surprises (which can come only once) but for a certain ideal surprisingness.”

• We want to be surprised by our own emotions.
• We writers want to both surprise readers with their own feelings and let them discover the story through one surprising reveal after another.
• And take them on an emotional journey, along with the characters in the story—a journey that leaves them emotionally transformed (as readers) just as the characters are.

Think about children who love to be read the same book over and over. When my daughters were young, they did just that. Some books they read dozens of times, and never grew tired of the story. How can they get so excited? Ever see children squirm when they know what’s about to happen? They want to get caught in that net of wonder again and again because it just feels so great. Lewis says, “It is better when you know it is coming: free from the shock of actual surprise you can attend better to the intrinsic surprisingness of the peripeteia.” [a sudden or unexpected reversal of circumstances or situation especially in a literary work]

I get that way, too, with some movies I watch over and over. I have my favorite moments that get me readying myself on the edge of the couch in anticipation. Sure, I know exactly what’s going to happen. And I know exactly how I’m going to feel when I watch that scene. The same way I feel every time. Some movies I can recite nearly every line—I’ve watched them that many times. A great scene in a movie or book can work like magic, like some crazy pixie dust that evokes a special, expected reaction in me. Amazing how powerful words can be. Oh, that all our stories would have that kind of power.

Yes, it’s all about the feelings! Your feelings and the readers’ feelings.

Weaving the Net

So, how can you catch readers in your net with the element of surprisingness? How can you make sure you’re not just writing a string of scenes or scenarios for your characters but are weaving a net? What’s your net made of? If it’s tinsel or spaghetti or gossamer thread, it’s bound to quickly disintegrate. But if it’s made of tough stuff, the stuff of theme and heart, then it will endure the stress of wind and wave and the occasional wandering hippo.

You need to often go back to the place of origin, to that spark of idea, where concept originates. Remember that germ of an idea that got you excited. Let the themes and passion for the story bubble up again. Then infuse whatever scene you are writing with that passion and focus.

Whether your characters are human, alien, robotic, animal, vegetable, or mineral, what they go through has to speak to our very human life and the themes that concern us. One of the most human characters I’ve ever enjoyed in fiction is Enzo in The Art of Racing in the Rain. He’s a dog, but a dog more human and aware of his humanity couched in his dogness that most human characters in most stories. He struggles with the meaning of his life and the hard choices he has to make that will impact those he loves. The author may have woven a net out of dog hair, but that net has proven stronger than steel as it’s pulled in millions of enthralled readers.

Here are some questions worth asking: What is your story’s theme? Do you have one? You will find if you weave it into your net, it will make it much stronger. What’s your theme? Does your life have one? Maybe it’s a different one each month or year. Or maybe you’ve noticed some theme weaving through your entire life.

And then there are some people’s lives that seem to have no theme at all. And maybe not even much plot. Would we think they were interesting? Would we consider their (or our) life a good story?

What gets you excited when you read? Can you think of some books you’ve read over and over? If you have a favorite or two, spend some time thinking about why. Why you love the book. Why you read it again and again. What your favorite moments are. What is the book’s theme?

Passion

What does this say about your heart and what you are passionate about? What do I mean by passion? I’m talking about a strong feeling, conviction, belief that comes from within. A belief that this is an important story to tell, an important theme to explore. Or it may have nothing to do with importance. There may be absolutely no theme or point to your story, but it can still radiate passion. The plot might excite you for its originality and mystery. Mystery is a great element to weave into your net. Getting readers asking why and what and how makes them turn pages. But …

Faulkner said: “At the heart of all this storytelling is the possibility, or desire, to create a piece of art that talks to the human instinct for recovery and joy.” That was what he was passionate about and wove that into his net.

Think about the book you might be writing now, or have just written. When you have some quiet time, determine which are your three favorite scenes in your story. Then ask, Why? What comes out in those scenes that speaks to your heart?

If you take the time to explore the passion that moves you to tell a story, and you find ways to keep it at hand so you can call on it at a moment’s notice, you will be able to weave that net that will catch readers. I want nothing more than to dangle my readers in wonder, help them stop their busy lives (that string of events) so they can revel in the “sheer state of being.” How about you?