Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer

An Organized Approach to Strategic Reading

Like many educators, I was attracted to the idea of strategic reading. Prior to learning about the strategic reading movement, I often felt that what I taught kids about reading never addressed the task of reading itself. I realize now that what I had in my teaching repertoire was a set of reading activities, things kids could do after they read something. By contrast, strategic reading gave me things I could teach kids to do while they read, things that would actually help them read better.

But my enthusiasm for reading strategies soon led to a problem: I was using so many strategies that kids were doing more strategizing than reading. So I decided to organize my approach into a single framework I could use for all types of texts and all levels of readers.

I called this framework Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer for two reasons: I wanted kids to have a model for response that integrated reading and writing, and I wanted them to think about two distinct but complementary ways of interacting with text. I also wanted kids to experience reading strategies in a natural way that mirrored as closely as possible the experience of adult readers.

From participating in book discussions, attending readings at bookstores, and reading book reviews, I’d noticed that adult readers moved easily back and forth between what they thought a text meant and the quality of the author’s writing. This natural integration of reading and writing was exactly what I wanted kids to be able to do.

When we read “like a reader,” we try to figure out what a text means. We root for characters, we follow the sequence of events, we ride a wave of emotions as the author guides us from beginning to end. We might think of this as the “normal” experience of reading. But it certainly isn’t the only experience.

We can also “read like a writer.” In this way of looking at a text, we focus less on what the writer is trying to say and more on how the writer is saying it. Specifically, we look at techniques the writer is using to get his or her message across and how those techniques affect us as we experience the text.

When we “read like a reader,” we use six common strategies: question, connect, infer, clarify, predict, and evaluate. Here’s how I explain them to kids:

• Question. When we “read like a reader,” we ask questions about the things we read. What kinds of questions do we ask? Just about anything that comes to mind: why something is happening or not happening, why a character feels or acts a certain way, how an author reached a conclusion, things we wonder about or are confused by, words we may not know the meanings of, and so on. Questions help us focus on specific things we need to understand.

• Connect. When we “read like a reader,” we think about what our reading reminds us of. We can’t help but be reminded of our own lives as we read. We’re also reminded of similar things we’ve read in other texts and in other parts of the same text we’re reading at the time. We may also be reminded of movies we’ve seen, songs we know, and other things we’ve experienced. Connecting helps us understand things by comparing something in the text we’re reading to something we know from the world around us.

• Infer. When we “read like a reader,” we figure out things about what we read that aren’t actually written in the text. There’s almost always more to a text than just the words on the page. Often, writers leave clues readers can use to discover important information. These clues usually take the form of something the writer shows us (a character, an event, a situation, a metaphor, etc.) that represents something the writer is trying to tell us.

• Clarify. When we “read like a reader,” we’re always trying to understand more about what the writer is saying. With each new piece of information we encounter, we attempt to fit it into our understanding of what has come before. When we get confused, we stop to sort things out. Our goal is always to be clearer and more confident about what an author is trying to tell us.

• Predict. When we “read like a reader,” we make guesses about what is coming up next. No reader, it seems, can resist thinking about what a writer is going to say next. It’s just part of human nature to anticipate things. Predicting helps us sort important information from unimportant information. It also helps us organize our thinking as we encounter new material.

• Evaluate. When we “read like a reader,” we make judgments. Is this text good? If so, what’s good about it? Do I like it? Why? Should I keep reading or should I put it down and get something else? How do I feel about this part? Do I like this character? And so on. As readers, we are finicky, impatient, emotional judging machines. The evaluations we make help us decide whether or not what we are reading is valuable and, if so, how we might use it.

When we shift gears in order to “read like a writer,” we look at text a little differently, almost as if we were seeing it through a different set of lenses. To assess the quality of an author’s writing, we rely on the same language we use to assess our own. I’ve found the Six Trait writing model to be the most useful in my teaching. So when I’m teaching kids to read like writers, we focus on ideas, organization, voice, word choice, sentence fluency, and conventions.

• Ideas. Ideas are the heart of the piece, what the writer is writing about and the information he or she chooses to reveal about it. When we “read like a writer,” we try to answer questions like these: How does the writer reveal the main idea? What types of details does the writer use? How does the writer achieve his or her purpose? How does the writer’s choice of ideas affect the reader?

• Organization. Organization refers to the order of ideas and the way the writer moves from one idea to the next. When we “read like a writer,” we try to answer questions like these: What kinds of leads does the writer use and how do they pull us in and make us want to read more? What kinds of endings does the writer use and how do they work to make the writing feel finished and to give us something important to think about? How does the writer handle transitions? What techniques does the writer use for sequencing? How does the writer control pacing?

• Voice. Voice is how the writing feels to someone when they read it, it’s the expression of the writer’s individual personality through words. When we “read like a writer,” we try to answer questions like these: How does the writer demonstrate passion for the topic? How does the writer reveal emotions? How does the writer put personality into the piece?

• Word Choice. Word Choice refers to the writer’s selection of particular words and phrases to express ideas. When we “read like a writer,” we try to answer questions like these: What techniques (simile, metaphor, strong verbs, etc.) does the writer use to make ideas more specific, more memorable, and more effective?

• Sentence Fluency. Sentence Fluency is the rhythm and flow of the language as we read it, it’s how the writing sounds when read aloud. When we “read like a writer,” we try to answer questions like these: What kinds of sentence constructions does the writer use? How does the writer vary the length and construction of his or her sentences? How does the writer use “sound” effects like alliteration, rhyme, and rhythm?

• Conventions. Conventions are the ways we agree to use punctuation, spelling, grammar, and other things that make writing consistent and easy to read. When we “read like a writer”, we try to answer questions like these: How does the writer use conventions to make the writing meaningful and easy to read? Does the author use conventions in unusual ways that are successful?

I introduce “Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer” to kids by explaining that our brains are very active when we read. Not only do we process text as we covert print into words and words into ideas, we also process information, thoughts, and feelings about what we read. The twelve elements of the “Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer” framework are not ways of testing kids to see if they’re reading. They’re ways to help them become more aware of the thinking they do naturally every time they encounter a text.

To prove this point, I put up short passages on the board and ask kids to comment on them. I write down everything they say and then I go back and show them which “Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer” categories their responses fall into. So, for example, if I put up the opening of Catcher in the Rye, and a students says, “The character is angry about something,” I can point out that that’s an inference, and I can take it further by asking the student to show me how the writer’s choice of words lead her to believe that the character was angry. Kids use the framework all the time. They just don’t know it.

My goal is to use the “Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer” framework to help kids develop a broader range of reading responses. As time goes by, I’ll expect students to use the framework whenever they share, whenever they write in their journals, and whenever they give book talks or write book reviews.

Talking about the framework helps, but kids don’t really get it until they see models. So I look for particularly interesting passages, often from the beginning of a good novel or short story, and show them what it might look like if they responded with something in each of the twelve categories.

Here's a passage that works well:

                                                     Eddie Takes Off
     Eddie had always been able to fly, but it wasn’t until his fifth birthday party that he realized that it would turn out to be a bit of a social problem. Until that embarrassing day on the Johnsons’ lawn, Eddie’s parents had treated his airborne peculiarity as something of a childish whim. “Boy’s gotta stretch out, learn what he can do,” said his father. “I just worry that he’ll hurt himself, you know, bump into the ceiling or get his eye poked out by a bird, I don’t know...” said his mother. For the young Eddie, flying was just another discovery about his developing body, like learning that he could reach out his arm and ring the bell on his cradle railing, or finding that he loved the taste of peas. The first time his parents came into the nursery and found Eddie hovering a foot or two off the floor it came as a bit of a shock. But, after all, parents are forever discovering special little things about their children. Eddie’s mother thought that perhaps they should take their son to see a specialist, but his father vetoed the idea. “It’s not like anything’s wrong with him, and I don’t want him getting a complex about it.”

And here are my responses as I "read like a reader":

• Question: Is this a fantasy story where people have special powers? Or is the author using the idea of flying to stand for something else? If he can really fly, why aren’t his parents a little more freaked out about it?

• Infer: Eddie’s parents seem strange. They don’t sound like real people, more like characters from a bad TV show. I think the author is trying to tell us that they may not be very smart or very sensitive.

• Connect: This reminds me of Harry Potter where a boy has special powers. But it also makes me think of other kids I have seen who may be different. Sometimes, kids with unusual abilities aren’t accepted by other people.

• Clarify: Eddie’s parents aren’t alarmed by his flying but at same time, his mother thinks about whether he should see a “specialist”. Eddie clearly isn’t a normal baby and that’s what his parents are most concerned about. It’s as if being normal is the most important thing to them.

• Predict: I think Eddie’s flying is going to get him in trouble. In the very first sentence, the author refers to Eddie’s flying as “a bit of a social problem” and to me that hints that things can only get worse.

• Evaluate: I like this story so far; I want to find out more. I feel sorry for Eddie. I think he’s going to be lonely because people aren’t going to understand him. I especially like the way the author describes Eddie’s mother and father, though I don’t like them at all. I don’t think they’re very good parents.

And here are my responses to the same passage as I "read like a writer":

• Ideas: A flying baby boy, in the context of what appears to be a realistic setting, is an original and interesting idea.

• Organization: The opening line is great. It certainly gets our attention and makes us want to find out more. The author has us wondering about three things: Eddie’s flying ability, his parents strange reaction, and the embarrassing incident on his fifth birthday.

• Voice: The author’s voice is light-hearted and playful, just as one might imagine a flying baby boy to be.

• Word Choice: The phrase “airborne peculiarity” in the second sentence is both unusual and memorable. It also seems like the perfect way to describe Eddie’s unique talent as viewed by his parents, as though it were something just slightly odd or mildly eccentric. In the last sentence, the strong verb “vetoed” tells a lot about how Eddie’s mom and dad interact: Eddie’s dad is sort of like the “president” of the family; any time he wants he can cancel his wife’s ideas.

• Sentence Fluency: The parallelism of the two quotes works nicely. Several long sentences read very smoothly. And I love the sound of this line: “...ring the bell on his cradle railing.” It’s as though the L’s, R’s, and A’s almost make a ringing sound in my ears.

• Conventions: Normally, when quoting characters in a story, we have to start a new paragraph for each new speaker. But here the author quotes the two parents inside a paragraph. The use of the ellipsis at the end of the mother’s comment makes her seem even more vague than her clichéd words imply.

I would never ask kids to make twelve different responses like this to a single passage. But in showing them how the framework can be used to help them get more out of what they read, I think this a very effective example. As a final note, I like to point out to the kids that my responses are longer than the passage itself. That is, there’s often more going on inside our head than there is on the page. This will become more apparent to kids when we I teach them how to do close readings.

“Read Like a Reader” and “Read Like a Writer” certainly aren’t the only two ways to read. But I think they represent interesting and valuable ways of thinking about a text. The point of all this is to help kids enjoy reading more by making it a more active and interactive process. When we read actively, we don’t just wait for the meaning to come to us, we go after it aggressively. We look deeply into the text, hunting in specific ways, searching for clues about what the writer is trying to tell us. When we read interactively, we ask questions about the text and our reactions to it, and we use the answers to develop a sense of how it works. It’s as if we start a conversation between the writer, the writing, and our self.

Too many kids are passive readers. They read the words and turn the pages but they don’t seem do much else. The “Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer” framework changes this. At first, it’s very hard for kids. It’s as if they never had a thought in their lives about what they were reading. But soon they realize they’re thinking all the time and that the framework is just a way for them to organize their thoughts. This is when it starts to get fun. Kids become more active. Sharing gets better. Journaling gets better. Book talks and book reviews get a lot better. Soon, we can drop the framework altogether because we no longer need it. That’s when I know it has worked and that the kids have really learned something important about reading.

Comments

[Meryem Kennedy]

Read like a reader is one strategy that I owe so much to! I have been able to make a concept as hard as "inference" clear to students within a couple of minutes. I always model what I do as a reader when I read. I read and think out loud to show to my students that my brain is actually going 100 miles a minute as I read! They are amazed that they can do this if only they are captivated by what they are reading.

The way I make 'infer' understandable to students is by giving them excamples from a novel or a text. Or sometimes during a book talk, I ask them a question I gather is not explicitly written in the passage. I force them to "infer". My favorite question is the age of a character in a novel. The first answer is usually, "I don't know." Or, "It does not say." Then I encourage them to guess how old the character might be by looking at the actions of the character in the story. After they come up with a justified answer, I congratulate them saying, "You have just inferred!"

A couple of examples like this and they understand that we use inference a lot in our every day lives without even realizing it.

Long live "read like a reader"!

[Steve Peha]

Meryem brings up two good points here (1) Modeling is key and (2) Inference is much easier to teach than we often think.

I love it when she says "I read and think out loud to show to my students that my brain is actually going 100 miles a minute as I read!" That's the whole point of Read Like a Reader, Read Like a Writer." Once kids understand that their brains are working on more than just decoding the words, they start to become curious about their own thinking. It is this curiosity that makes the open to improving their comprehension.

Meryem also points out the easiest way to get kids into making inferences: ask them a simple question (like the age of a character) that is not explicitly answered in the text. This forces kids to make an inference, forces them support the inference, and -- as a bonus -- points out the connection between questioning and inferring.

[Brian Cox]

The next step for me has been to show my students how to write so that their readers can make inferences. I find this works best when I use a genuine piece of writing that I am working on instead of random examples or something prefabricated. We begin by looking at two strategies.

The first I call "half truths". This is when I only tell half the truth of the situation and let my reader infer the rest. The trick is to know your audience and how much of the story to reveal without revealing too much. If I wrote: After detention, Darry went straight to his locker to find his secret water balloon stash. Obviously, a reader can infer that Darry intends to use the balloons, that he has anger issues, or even something as deep as being prejudices towards the group of people he intends to assault.

The second is what I call "cultural bombs". If I can drop a word, phrase, or idea that carries significant cultural meaning then I can help my reader to infer the larger meaning. If I wrote: Darry stormed off to his room and cranked Nirvana. A reader may infer that Darry likes alternative rock, wants to get into skate boarding, or is even contemplating suicide since that was the fate of the lead singer.

[Steve Peha]

I like the two strategies here. And I especially like the idea of teaching kids about inference by having them create situations in their writing that depend on their readers making inferences.

I think sometimes, we get the whole reading strategy thing backwards. Reading strategies are easier to learn if we experience them first as writers. When kids, as writers, learn to set up inferences or predictions or questions or connections, they learn reading strategies from the inside out. Not only do they learn the strategies more thoroughly, they provide us with tangible proof, in the form of their own writing, we can use for assessment.