Writing to Sell vs. Selling What You Write

Yesterday in the comments section, author Joe Barone commented about stories that seem written to sell, not necessarily to tell a story. The characters in the books he mentioned seemed wooden to him, however the books had all the elements needed for a page turner, almost like a checklist. Family in peril, check. Action, check. Love interest, check. But somehow it didn't all add up.

Interesting. I guess I have two main thoughts. The first is that I make my living primarily as a fiction writer. Poor LukerMonkey . . . I sent him no fewer than SEVEN ideas for adult fiction, two or three of which are semi-finished works in progress (one I've written 160 pages of, but now realize the book should really open on page 55 and I can cut everything that comes before it). I asked his opinion on what I should work on in our writers' group next. And my reason for asking him boils down to . . . if I am going to spend six months taking something through my writers' group I want something that can sell at the end of it. There are some things I work on and from the outset I'm not sure if I am going to end up with a product I can sell. But in general, writing for me is not an exercise in self-indulgence. I need to be aware of market, of trends, and of those ideas I have that very likely could end up a book with potential to sell.

My second thought, though, is that I don't only use that as my criteria. All seven ideas . . . well, at least five or six of them . . . are ideas I genuinely like a lot. While I am perhaps more passionate about one or two, they all sprang organically (there's that word again) from my own heart and head. They are things I want to work on. As a process, this is different from looking at the USA Today best-seller list, seeing what is hot, and deciding to write a book in that genre.

One of the interesting things about being in the midst of the chick lit boom (now bust) was that I consistently met writers who wanted to write romances, but were writing chick lit because that's what editors were buying. That's okay if you liked finding that chick lit voice necessary for the genre. But if as a writer you didn't even care for that kind of writing or storyline, the end result shows it. And for some writers, it did.

I don't go to conferences very often, but the last one I went to, several editors from Avon and Berkeley and elsewhere were repeating over and over how much they wanted to buy erotica, but just weren't getting enough quality submissions in that genre. My instinct was not to race back to my hotel room and start writing a sex scene. I have nothing against the genre, I just know it's not something I want to write.

But I DO want to sell what I write.

Thoughts?

The Crapshoot

Did you all see this aticle in the NY TIMES this Sunday?

I know an author who, by virtue of a huge promotional push--one of the biggest I have ever seen among authors I know--and some luck, a great cover, and a healthy dash of talent (because I never fail to recognize other people--jealousy is a no-no)--had a good seller. Not a best-seller. Didn't make any lists. But did well enough for her to earn out and get a pretty fat royalty check. And, like the author of PREP in this article, her subsequent books--without the publisher's huge promotional investment, and most definitely the timing of the chick lit market--have done modestly at best.

The thing is . . . when I would talk to her, she would not talk TO me, but AT me. Because by virtue of her sales, she had a LOT to say about the book biz, about being a success, about what a talent SHE is (but not, I was amazed to find out, the talent of ANYONE else out there in her genre), about many, many things--including knocking other authors (in front of editors, no less). She was, to all around her, a diva. One person in the biz called her "psychotic." And I had a tendency to be bemused. Because, I have been at this long enough to know that a lot of this is a crapshoot. You write the best book you know how, you promote yourself as much as possible within the confines of your budget, you have your agent push for promotion, you send out your press kits, do all that . . . . and then roll the dice.

Anyone who tells you they have the secret of publishing success has loaded dice. Talent is a component. But so is timing. And be careful who you knock on the way up . . . because the mighty can fall far.

It's a strange biz. That's the other really wonderful aspect of the article. It's unlike any other--even Hollywood.

So what do you think?