Today I share wisdom:
1. When a book that breaks new genre ground becomes wildly successful, publishers start looking for other books like it.
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
2. If this goes on long enough and with enough success, it becomes a new subgenre.
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
3. And at some point, a subgenre might become big enough that publishers are trying to always have a book of that sort on their list.
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
4. At this point, the subgenre crosses what I call "the midlist divide." When a subgenre is large enough to have a midlist.
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
5. This is when that subgenre will continue to sell well enough to support a few writers modestly, but is no longer "hot."
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
6. Publishers are no longer looking for a Big Book in that genre from a new writer. They will continue boosting their established writers.
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
7. But this is not when I would want to debut into a particular subgenre.
This is why you shouldn't chase the market.
— Asperatus Undulatus (@TheBarbarienne) May 26, 2015
When I started the Twenty Palaces books, I wanted to change a bunch of things that were standard in urban fantasy: the protagonist who’s an expert in the setting, the supernatural elements that had been ported over from horror and folklore, the stories that focused on the concerns of supernatural figures rather than actual human beings.
When I started Key/Egg, I wanted to challenge myself to write an urban fantasy that was not just a string of violent clashes. I also wanted to move the elderly woman out of the traditional expository role and into the limelight.
When I started The Great Way, I wanted to move away from the lackadaisical travelogue pacing of epic fantasy and write it like a thriller. I also wanted to have a little fun with the idea of the Hero Prince.
I wouldn’t say these were attempts at creating a new subgenre. I was trying to do something different, though. It seemed like an opportunity (and I know how this sounds) to change things.
Now, I have no plans to write a sequel to Key/Egg. I’m done with that story (for now, anyway) and I’m moving on, but I would sure as shit love to see other writers put elderly women into the center of their books. While we’re at it, let’s make that a TV show, too. It doesn’t even have to be an adaptation of Key/Egg (although the rights are available!) but I’m sure there are older female actresses ready to take on the role.
But Key/Egg isn’t a breakout hit and it isn’t going to be one, and neither are these other books, even if sales have been almost respectable. The failure mode for “breaks new ground and is wildly successful” is, at best, “minor cult favorite.” At worst, it’s “who are you what are you doing”. For a writer who wants to be remembered, those failure modes don’t cut it.
Added later:
But that writing with meaning, even when it doesn't affect anything, even when people think it sucks, strikes me as really important.
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
I first got that sense from Fitzgerald. Read Gatsby, like I read so many other things–one take, sitting in Founder's library.
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
Immediately thought it was the greatest thing I ever read. Was shocked to discover that it was disdained in its time.
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
Fitzgerald believed he'd created a masterpiece. Very few people agreed with him. But he died believing, though not knowing he was right.
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
Dude altered the course of American letters–but never knew it.
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
Anyway I thought about this, today listening to Corrigan's interview and the a letter she read. Fitzgerald is dying and he writes…
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
(Also Gatsby was out of print, as was much of his stuff at this point.) So Fitzgerald writes…
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"I wish I was in print…
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"It will be odd a year or so from now when Scottie assures her friends I was an author and finds that no book is procurable….
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"Would the 25 cent press keep Gatsby in the public eye, or is the book unpopular? Has it had its chance?"
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"Would a popular re-issue in that series with the preface – not by me, but by one of its admirers…
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"I can maybe pick one – make it a favorite with classrooms, profs, lovers of English prose – anybody?"
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"But to die so completely and unjustly after having given so much…"
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"Even now there is little published in American fiction that doesn't slightly bear my stamp…."
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
"In a small way, I was an original."
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
That last sentence is true and incredible. But it also points to futility of pinning your work on whether it "matters" or "changes" things.
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 26, 2015
You just can't really know. You had better love it. And be prepared to die "unjustly after having given so much."
— Ta-Nehisi Coates (@tanehisicoates) May 27, 2015
When I read this, I recognize how ridiculous I’m being but I don’t care. I don’t have as much to give as Fitzgerald did, but I’ll give what I have.