While reading, sometimes, I cannot help but be in awe of the ability and style of the author. Of course I wish I could be that good, write that well, have that amazing vocabulary etc. I assume it is just natural to be jealous when somebody is so great at something that you yourself aspire to do.
The good thing about writing is that the work is available for everybody to read and therefore learn from, because every time we read a great author for sure we learn from them, while also borrowing bits and pieces of their work, style, words.
This reminded me of a funny story from when I was young. Now, I do not know for sure if it is an urban myth or it actually happened, but the story in itself is quite fun, so I decided to share it with you. A window to another world.
In post-communist Romania most people, or at least people at my family’s level, did not have a lot of money. The money we had went on food, utilities and that was it, no little luxuries.
During that time, there was an author that became extremely popular among the women of the nation. Sandra Brown.
I have no idea how popular she was in the US or other places, but funny enough, in Romania she was widely read. For those that do not know her, Sandra Brown is the author of many, many books (around 70 says Wikipedia), easy reads, with certain explicit scenes, but not trashy I do not think.
I have not read one in more than 25 years, but from what I remember they were not trashy, they were very readable and maybe a bit scandalous for the women in that area and that culture. Maybe that was their appeal.
I was not allowed to read them, but when did that stop anyone? I would read my mother’s books when she was not looking. I was very curious to know what made all those women so entranced with reading them.
As I said money was tight, so they could not afford to buy books. What they did was set up a type of sharing book club. They would borrow the books to one another so more of them could read them, and then they would meet in tiny communist apartment kitchens and discuss them while hiding from their husbands. I am pretty sure the husbands would have been scandalized had they known what they obedient and quiet wives were doing.
I remember that my mom would sometimes even borrow books from the book shop, she had a friend selling there, and then, after reading them she would take them back and on the shelf they went for sale.
So great was the passion of Romanian women for Sandra Brown that, at some point, a local talent took on the alias of Sanda Bran (Smart, no? This could actually be a Romanian name) and started to write short stories for some women magazines.
I never actually read anything by her, I just remember reading her story somewhere, so I do not know much, but I found it so interesting and it got me thinking about imitating the masters.
It is widely accepted that we all go through it until we find our own voice, and it is even encouraged to some extent as it gets you writing and it gets the ball rolling. I found very endearing the fact that somebody would go so far as to try to find a Romanian sounding name to match that of the author they admired.
Unless it is one of those Adibas things when you want to fool people.