I’m going to go out on a limb here and…
…no, I’m not going to write a post about posts which begin with long-dead metaphors, posts whose authors should really know better. Though I, or somebody, probably should.
What I am going to say is possibly heretical and, well, possibly something I should keep my mouth shut about, since I care about my putative writing career. But it’s been driving me crazy — a real professional and perhaps even personal dilemma.
One of the first pieces of advice you get from agents, published authors, writing workshops, writers’ guides, and so on, is that you must picture where in the bookstore your book will be shelved. This becomes, then, your genre. Fiction’s got mystery, romance, SF/fantasy, young adult (YA), so on and so forth; and then non-fiction too is all over the map — biography, history, true crime, humor (hey, I didn’t make up these categories!), travel, reference…
(Above all else, the advice goes, if you’re serious about your writing career, avoid the dreaded mid-list/mainstream classification.)
Where will your book come to rest? they all want to know. Where do you belong?
Actually, it’s not such questions per se which are problematical. You do need to have some sense of how to explain your work — especially to potential agents, editors, even casual readers — and providing the genre helps accomplish that, even before you’ve offered details.
Where problems do come in is when you select a genre in advance, before a book is even written — despite your own proclivities.
I’m going to drop the second person here. This isn’t about you. This is (sorry) about me.
Here’s my dilemma:
- My reading tends to sprawl all over the place. I like mysteries and thrillers, an occasional SF/F title, humor, graphic novels, non-fiction of various sorts (essays, science & nature, politics…). And I also read a pretty fair amount of “literary”/mainstream/commercial/unclassifiable fiction — like Michael Chabon’s stuff; like The Time Traveler’s Wife; like Richard Powers’s novels…
- The short fiction I’ve written seldom places action on a pedestal above character, setting, “theme,” style… In short, the short fiction I’ve written by choice, left to my own devices, doesn’t fit into a single niche.
- My “big book,” which I’ve alluded to here and there, falls into no easy genre or another. If forced, right now, I might classify it as something like “aggressively mainstream.” It’s the book I think I was really “meant” to write (whatever that means) — the one which will honestly break my heart if I die with it unpublished.
- A careful, maybe even careless reader of this blog would observe that I’ve published one novel, a mystery, and that I’ve recently readied for submission a second, loosely classified as a political thriller (with SF and humorous overtones).
- …so then, said reader might reasonably wonder: Given my reading preferences, why am I writing mysteries and political thrillers — two genres which, maybe above all others, assert the primacy of plot and action?
Hence the dilemma.
I’ve always assumed Merry-Go-Round to be the first of a series. With this in mind — and the first book in the can, so to speak (dead metaphors again!) — I’ve always assumed the next book would be the sequel. (I’ve even begun to sketch it out, and have written a few paragraphs.)
But you know what? I’m getting no younger. And then I read this post over on Moonrat’s Editorial Ass blog a couple weeks ago, where she says:
I do think that if possible you shouldn’t work on the next book in your series. I have a number of reasons, but I’ll list the biggies:
1) If an agent decides to work with you (or, later, an editor) on the condition that you do some certain edits, they might drive your first book in developmental directions that differ from or outgrow the second installment you’ve already spent time on.
2) In the event (God forbid) you don’t end up placing the book you’re submitting right now, you’ll have two [unsold] books in the same series instead of a different, unrelated book that you can pitch separately. However, if you write a different book, you might be able to place THAT one, and then come back later when you’re famous and reputable and place the first one.
…yeah, I would take up an entirely different project to distract you.
God bless Moonrat. She could’ve been talking to me. It’s like I was just waiting for someone to give me permission, y’know?
I’ve gone back to working on the Big Book now. It’s been a few years since I last looked at it, so it’s kind of refreshing to see how much there is in it: not thrills and chills, no, but layers of stuff, real and imagined, and also imaginary versions of real places and things.
My head’s clear. Yes, I worry about the career implications. (And so saying, I haven’t withdrawn Merry-Go-Round from circulation.) But it makes all the difference in the world — to me — to work on a book I want to work on, shelving considerations be damned.
moonrat says
the thing about the category is… i’m not sure that is something you necessarily need to panic about before the book is written. your “shelf” scheme matters a lot for marketing purposes, so that your agent/editor/publisher know how to pitch and package you. but there are mysteries in the fantasy section, fantasies in the romance section, and plenty of romances in the mystery section, if you catch my drift.
but yes–this Big Book thing sounds intriguing. i hope your development goes well!
marta says
Yes, shelves be damned. Write the book you want to write. I’m certainly with you on this. Where would my book go? No idea. I refuse to write with that in mind.
Other news I keep reading is that if you’ve written a good book, you’ll find a publisher. Well, I’m not sure this is always true, but if it is, I see no reason why you won’t place your Big Book.
I realize I’ve got no clout to say that, but I believe it anyway.
Keep writing.
John says
@moonrat – Oh, MR — thanks so much for stopping by! and, Lord knows, for that post back in August… Even though it wasn’t addressed to me, it spoke loudly, y’know? Penetrated through all the noise.
I know it’s possible to make oneself crazy about this category/genre thing. Just trying to keep my head screwed on straight, and ask FIRST, “What book do I want to write?” and then — only then, when it’s done — ask, “What sort of book is this, exactly?”
Oh, btw… [whispering] The Big Book is Arthurian.
John says
@marta – Thanks. That means a lot to me. And naturally, as I’ve been pondering all these questions, I’ve wondered about your writing, too; I can imagine you might, in moments of weakness, find yourself fretting about this stuff. (And coming to some impossibly level-headed conclusion about it. :)
Ah yes, the “write a good book and wait for good things to happen” meme. As you say, I’m skeptical it’s ALWAYS true. Still, an awful lot of good books DO have good things happen to them, don’t they?
maggie, dammit says
I don’t know much about it, but I agree with the comments above — the shelf thing is far more critical to the book proposal than the book itself. So you may need to stuff yourself in a corner in the beginning, for marketing purposes, and then try not to think about it — write the book(s) that only you can write. If they’re good enough, maybe they’ll create a whole new shelf for you. ;)
Julie says
John,
I am solidly stuck on fantasy, but I’ll admit, I still want to write my historicals someday. Having something else to work on while the current wip is doing its thing is good.
When THOUGH I SHOULD DIE drives me insane, I work on DRAGON VALLEY. It isn’t my historical, but I need to do more research to really get serious about that. Research means going to south Texas and spending a few weeks.
I may never get the historicals written, but I think all of us should have something dear to our heart that seems to be a life calling.
When I first started researching this group of women these historicals would be based one, I fell in love with one who looked much like Sophia Loren. The stern, dour-faced one kept walking through my head until I thought,
“Sheesh, all right. I’ll look at your story.”
“Whoa! Who would have thought you had this burning passion and such an intriguing story?”
When I went down to the museum and visited with the historian he showed me all their private letters and ledgers. He showed me a watercolor painting of her wedding dress and commented about how odd it was for a woman to get married in a peach-colored dress with ivory lace trim. I told him I didn’t think it was that odd. I didn’t tell him I got married in a peach dress with ivory lace trim.
I know every agent tells us to stick with one category, but I think you also have to follow your heart.
You have permission to write the book of your dreams.
John says
@maggie, dammit – Maggie! I’m so happy to see you here, and back online in general… I’d just discovered your “old” place when you packed up the tent and blew away. Thought the timing was a little too coincidental but I fought the paranoia quasi-successfully.
Don’t you just love the idea of having your own shelf? It would have to be not just any old shelf but a prominent table, of course. Staffed by personnel who have no other duties than the satisfaction of your readers, although it would be nice if they threw some satisfaction your way, too.
John says
@Julie – I’ve had the pleasure of doing research at both the NY Public Library and the Library of Congress. There’s nothing like looking for one specific bit of information, especially old information, and finding it (or maybe not) — but finding something else, too, something even more mysterious and better.
The protagonist of my first book was named Finley. I’d decided I needed to know more about her family history — genealogy-type stuff — so at the L of C I started to delve. If I ever found something about the Finleys, I no longer remember it. But I never forgot the story of the 19th-century massacre in Oregon (by Indians) of a family named Finlayson, which I read about in newspapers of the time.
Now having said as much, I’m not sure but that “never forgot” might be an exaggeration. I’ve probably garbled the details. Still, the point stands: I know exactly how you must have felt when you encountered the Loren-like woman.
marta says
John,
I am always fretting.
John says
@marta – Well, y’know, that’s pretty close to an impossibly level-headed conclusion right there: the simple recognition of and resignation to the condition.
Eileen Wiedbrauk / Speak Coffee says
1. envision your name on the spine of a book in the bookstore. For my two cents, your agent, editor and the manager of the bookstore should decide which bookshelf it will go on. But the mere thought that it will be there is a great driving need.
2. interesting that Moonrat says work on something different. Then again MR is an editor not an agent. For an agent it’s easier to sell like after like, and an editor has less inclination to make the agent’s life easy than the agent. Most agents are blogging about how you should write in one vein and one vein only until you’re ficking Tom Clancy. I, will not be doing that. Isn’t diversity key in this market? ;) lol
John says
@Eileen Wiedbrauk / Speak Coffee – Heh. I think “diversity” in this context, at least among people who know me, is code for something on the order of “irresolution.” :) But I do like the “envision your name” trick as a motivator. Thanks!