Backstory:
A year or so ago, my boyfriend became angry at me. When he was talking to online friends, they asked if I was a good writer. He said yes. Then they asked what I wrote about, and he said that he didn't know. He then realized that he'd never read anything I wrote. The two poems I'd shown him didn't count because I was a fiction writer.He then confronted me. He told me that he was angry and a bit hurt that I hadn't showed him anything. The whole thing caught me off guard. I was astounded that anyone would actively seek to read what I wrote. Throughout high school, I'd hand people new revisions of the same stories, just because things had changed that they might want to know about--no matter how subtle. I thought I'd spare him from that. Just because he's my boyfriend, that doesn't mean he's my editor, too. Especially because he's not a writer or an avid reader. But here he was, demanding to see what I wrote.
So I read him a draft of a chapter. It was half of a chapter, actually. In fact, it had won a small monetary award during an international honor society's convention that previous year. When I finished, he was quiet. He didn't want me to read him anything else that night because he was still registering that chapter. He said it made him feel sad, which is a fantastic compliment because that meant I did something right.
But he hasn't read anything since, except for book reviews. He doesn't read much fiction. Most of his audiobooks are nonfiction. And he's not a fan of fantasy or sci-fi. So my book reviews grab his attention, but nothing else. That story I got published? He skimmed it. My thesis? The most work I'd done in one legitimate story at the time? The story I used as a personal challenge and succeeded? The story that was good enough to permit my graduation, and that other friends and mentors love and demand that I write more in?
He read up to chapter two and stopped. (Similarly, my mother read the boring but mandatory introduction, became half-jokingly hurt that I hadn't thanked her on my acknowledgments page, and put it down, too. It would have been the first fiction story she'd read of mine since.... grade school.)
He said the voice was hard to follow, despite knowing that it shifts into better coherence throughout the third and fourth chapters (the main character is recovering from shock). And then he said that the character's choices angered him, despite the fact that he helped me figure out what the guy should do.
He said he'd pick it up again.
He said he'd give it another shot, knowing that the voice changes.
He hasn't touched it since June.
Current Events:
There is an expectation that because he's my boyfriend, he should read works that I'm proud about. It's minor, though, because I've heard that same argument about friendship and I still wasn't able to read a friend's attempt at a novel. It actually helped to break that friendship a few years ago. But... my expectations with him stem from his previous actions. Re: Him yelling at me.So every day that I know it's on his To Do list, and he doesn't do it, it chips away at me.
Every day that he's bored and wonders what to do to fill his evening, I suggest that he read, in general. He doesn't. He decides to play Halo 4 instead. Typical guy. And every night he spends staring at his back-lit devices before bed (and can't sleep because of them), I suggest that he read instead. He doesn't. He said that if I gave him a .pdf of the story, he'd read it easier on his iPad. He doesn't. He says that if he gets a Kindle, he'll read more. I don't believe him because he's unlikely to read a print book. It does happen, gradually, but most of the time he's playing a game or searching the Internet. He hasn't proven to me that he'd use the Kindle to read. And he hasn't proven to me that he'll ever return to my thesis. And when I used to ask if he'd ever read the story, he got mad at me for suggesting that he wasn't going to. He still hasn't done it, though, because he said he forgets and I should remind him.
But I shouldn't have to remind him to do something that meant so much to me. I shouldn't have to badger him like that, especially if there's a chance that he won't like the story. And I don't want to force him to read it, either.
What happened to the guy who wanted to read my stuff?
He found out that I write magical realism, and wasn't interested anymore.
Enough of me has been chipped away that it started to affect our relationship. He knows I've been feeling down lately, but doesn't know all of the causes. The thesis is only a small portion of that. So the other night it was bad enough that I was crying when I came to bed. I don't know if he knew.
But as I laid there, I had one line going through my head: He wouldn't like it anyway.
Why make him read something if he wouldn't like it anyway? Why put up with a smile and a hug and a statement that "it was good," when he wouldn't like it anyway? I'd rather he not read it than have him save face like that.
And oddly, the mantra has worked so far. That was the mental trick I needed to glue myself back together. I'll just go back to the way things were before he yelled at me. And it'll be fine. In time. I just wanted to get this out because I'm still fixing myself. This post isn't meant as some sort of passive-aggressive attempt to get him to read my stories. It's just something long overdue to get off my chest.