» Publishers, Monetize your RSS feeds with FeedShow: More infos (Show/Hide Ads)
Two worthwhile reads:
and
I think it’s about time for another of my old fashioned diatribes on high quality. It's been a while since I picked up the old saw, and I found this today on my local classical music station and couldn't wait to share it.
Georg Philipp Telemann (1681-1767) was a contemporary of Bach’s who has nearly disappeared for even classical music lovers and admirers of 17th century music. Yet in his day, Telemann was apparently more famous and respected that Bach ever was. And according to the several websites Google brought me, he was chosen as cantor of
So now those times are long gone and people grew different ears. I won’t even speculate how that happens (a journey for another day perhaps), but the lasting quality of Bach’s work compared to his simpler, less labored, and proficient contemporaries is unmatched. So why? Who knows Telemann, Graun, Hasse? Even Bach’s own idol Handel isn’t as recognized. And there are many reasons for this, but it’s not a matter of opinion that Bach’s music has remained because of its superiority in form, style, beauty, and originality. As one site puts it, “In some aspects, he has no equal, and in all aspects, his music is unique.”
But so what? How does it help him now? He gets no bonus points, no enjoyment or benefit from posthumous praise. What if he had tried to be more productive and efficient, to churn them out more? Why didn’t he? Sure he still produced a major body of work, but he never enjoyed the fame his music would eventually produce. What’s his payoff for pursuing quality over quantity? A legacy? What could that matter to him while he was alive? Respect of people he’d never meet?
Why commit to excellence? Practice and sacrifice is hard! It’s takes too much time and energy, especially if the struggle isn’t practical or doesn’t produce a better life. Why push so hard for so little? After all, more people will experience it if you produce quick and disposable. You'll have more chance for fame, money and immediate benefit. Less lasting, but so what? Who wants to pay and wait for visionary/beauty/quality in our world anymore?
This great destruction going on throughout the world is of course, nothing new. Yet it does seem to be getting worse, doesn't it? Our food, our products, our cars, our writing, our music, our culture, our idols, pundits, and politicians—and inescapably our opinions, ideas, relationships, and every other form of “output”—each exhibit the short-sighted self-focused decisions we’re forced to accept today, dispensing with high quality in favor of necessarily-immediate results (we might call it the McDonald's Effect or Wal-Martization), even when those results are vastly inferior in quality. But why should we care if the food/work/product/image does its job? It won’t last anyway? Nothing lasts! Why should we waste time and effort when there’s no benefit but some uncertain effect in the far future?
Everyone must make the pragmatic choice to push for higher quality or not, which may not become Bach's choice to forfeit keeping up with his contemporaries, suffer to produce far less, and miss his chance for greater recognition and prosperity. Indeed, for novelists, the choice seems ludicrous. Produce slowly? Less? That can mean poverty. It can mean unfulfillment too when others get the contract for producing quickly and we're forced to survive doing what we’d rather not have to.
So why strive for high quality? Why care about developing good taste? What is a superior work or product really worth and why not appreciate the compromises that enable our hyperspeed world to exist? Why make our goal one of dogged faithful service to a higher cause and not production, fame, survival, or even a lasting legacy? Disposable life is important now; it's how we've come to survive. A return to quality is what's short-sighted and selfish.
And still, some people can’t stop pointing at the beauty for the thought of one person stopping long enough to look up at what he’s missed and be captured by the idea of something greater.
Refined art! It sits and languishes, waiting to be noticed. It says, “Here is your lost dignity! Here’s your roots! Here’s solidarity with the real humanity and strength you possess! Here is a sacrifice for a creator and creation we’ve forgotten.” Inspired work reminds us of the incredible value of life before conveyor belts and utilitarian necessity and mass production forced our souls into exile.
Art is the truth of life in a microcosm—an object, a work, a piece fashioned from creation!—a chance to wonder at the reminder that all is to the glory of God reflecting his holiness. All is for this. Commit to pursuing the height of your potential and you will find your purpose.
Give of your best. Sacrifice your chance to pander to the masses. Sacrifice your lesser life and you will find the greater.
Can we get off the conveyor? Do our lives really depend on it? And can you really influence those several others around you for this?
If we are made in the image of the creator, then every day is a choice to reflect that or to slowly die.
Do you agree? Do you think this is an important topic or not? Leave a comment; let’s discuss.
Incidentally, classical music is one of the arts the Obamas strongly support. Michelle Obama went way up in my book when I watched this, from a White House classical music workshop for middle and high school students she recently hosted (check out the kids at 33:45—why does that make me so happy?).
2. Find an excellent, experienced webmaster. "A lot of companies make the mistake of trying to use social media and those involved in it for a quick transaction, when really it's about building a lifelong relationship with the consumer, incorporating all aspects of her life, including products," says Stephanie Bryant, DaySpring's business development manager.
To EFFECTIVELY and CONVINCINGLY prove that your book fits squarely in the center of the new market as more than a stand-alone repository of information, but as the anchor of a multi-faceted lifestyle choice of content and experience, you need the most professional web guy your money will buy. You could include any number of devisings (many of which are discussed below), but without an effective, convincing online presence, your extensive blog tour, multi-city launch parties, giveaways, and all the rest will mean, in a word, “Pppfffttt.” It has to go viral to sell well and the web is where the spiritually interested audience talks now. A strong online presence is established through many things—trailers, interviews, reviews, and unique creative promotions. But if crawlers and surfers don’t know it’s there or it doesn’t look good or it doesn’t work right, guess what it means? (see above).
So the past few weeks, we’ve been looking at how to find it and become a part of it here, here, and here. These books are different. They go to people seeking to unify their lives in a full body-mind-spirit experience, who reject leaglism, hypocrisy, and prejudice, and aspire to live beyond categories that blind people, to make responsible choices to further those goals.
Middle ground authors are different too. They don’t promote agendas. They promote simple values like those described above. They don’t do phony. Authentic writing pours from their authentic living. “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” Duplicity and negativism crush joy. And joy is their point.
This is the cresting wave of middle ground publishing to the spiritually curious, those interested and interesting people. “A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.” So when these authors promote their writing, a spiritually-interested “marketing plan” certainly looks different. There’s a pared-down quality, a simplicity that attempts to conjure that other other all-important city, authenticity. If authors don’t live there in spiritually-interested publishing, they end up in Falacity (Feel free to leave your favorite Bushisms below.).
Manipulative marketing is contrived and ignorant. “The moment there is suspicion about a person's motives, everything he does becomes tainted.” And if there’s anything antithetical to middle ground books it’s manipulation. No God-respecting author can “spin” their work. It’s obvious when marketing becomes a con. Viral marketing can have no strategy, no manufacturing. Yes, YouTube killed the commercial and ads (or launch parties) for consumer products don’t work anymore unless the customer is specifically looking for that product. Many people are looking to be sold books, so author launch parties are a good idea. But without word-of-mouth, the book will still die. You can’t get a million readers without being talked about. And you'll soon fade if you aren't visibly real.
A better way to see book marketing is as it is: a service. “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.” It’s not easy. But “unwearied ceaseless effort is the price that must be paid for turning faith into a rich infallible experience.” Your purpose in marketing must be the same as it is in writing: to offer an experience readers will want to live daily. Because the life-giving experience of your book comes from God and is God. “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.” Both are about filling people with the word of life and celebrating God’s work in passing on your observations, insights, and the beauty you’ve witnessed. To help others see what you see.
“Always aim at complete harmony of thought and word and deed. Always aim at purifying your thoughts and everything will be well.”
To believe in “selling” that message, your aim must be to connect, not sell. “We do not need to proselytise either by our speech or by our writing. We can only do so really with our lives. Let our lives be open books for all to study.” Do you love people? God does. If you struggle, try seeing with his eyes. A middle ground book or marketing campaign isn’t about converting readers, it’s about inspiring, encouraging, and reminding.
Is it possible to change people with a book? Of course. But there’s a common, cynical theory that says to sell well, spiritual books must give people what they want, pat them on the back, and not offer any deeper challenge. Tickle ears. Sure, some readers may be a lost cause, but “You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.” So here’s a challenge: if heresy is anything short of full gospel, then heretics are those who speak of God yet fail to inspire people to join His redemption orchestra. And in your quest for the middle ground, remember “pandering” to reveal words that cause people to change is very different than pandering to tickle ears. It’s taken me several years to realize that distinction, let alone put it into practice.
“All compromise is based on give and take, but there can be no give and take on fundamentals. Any compromise on mere fundamentals is a surrender. For it is all give and no take.”
Remember the true goal when you write and when you promote, and you’ll be fine.
(Quotes are from Mohandas Gandhi who Google reminds us earns 140 candles on his cake today.) (Also, in case you missed this other birthday, Guiness turned 250 recently.)
This week, I've been looking for a new used car. Nothing too fancy. On top of slaving to finish the basement before the darkness of winter saps my energy, my wife has helped me realize that I need new wheels. Now that I'm driving Ellie to school, my 1990 Honda Civic wagon, beauty that she is, doesn't cut it. No airbags, no all-wheel drive, no traction control, no anti-lock brakes. I told her there's no remote start or heated seats either, but she didn't seem to mind that so much. Or the fact that I've been driving it to work all these years.
Now adding value to a house, increasing features, upgrading a car, I'm acutely aware how all this comes with a price. And there are lessons here for a spiritual writer. I can relate these things to the depth and "value" I'm striving to infuse into my life and writing.
Generally, simpler is better. Ask me how much trouble the Honda or the unfinished basement has been. None. But like with God and in writing, when it's time to develop beyond where you were, there are costs. And I think I'm getting a better sense of what those costs really look like. I believe learning to write well is like learning a musical instrument. It's also like learning to hear and follow God's leading. What we're really talking about in all these things is deepening relationship. Learning to hear. And respond. I read a great little article by a car enthusiast (which I am not, yet) that said, in essence, "You can't really love a simple car." I know what he means. Once you realize you're in a limited relationship, you have to develop it. Or sell it.
I know that once I'm finished with my basement (and my novel, for that matter) I'll appreciate it in a whole new way. So what I've had to do is evaluate the costs. We're not going crazy. Just the next step. Still, the personal costs involved in these investments are extensive.
- Time-- For relationships. For other involvements. A strained schedule.
- Money-- Reduced income from time spent on this. Reduced future income for neglecting that potential current income. Increased expenses.
- Effort-- Inevitable challenges. Need for increased awareness of those. Decreased mental space/sanity. Decreased productivity in other areas. Increased frustration.
- Stasis-- Need to find a new "normal." Find balance. Rediscover new perspective. New priorities.
- Reach-- Impact to reputation. Decreased ability to pursue other goals/relationships.
That's just off the top of my head, but this short list of costs shows something to me. It shows that at least on paper, the investment may not be in my best interest. Depending on the specifics, pushing for progress in any relationship--whether human or machine, living space or written word--can be perilous, as advancing into any new territory. Yet not deepening my relationship with these things, while safer, is not better. Considering the featureless Honda, it's not even safer. Come to think of it, none of these things really would be "safer" without development. They'd be simply lesser. Underperforming. Incomplete.
I know. Evaluating like this is something of a luxury--it seems I do it less and less (probably another area to develop a deeper relationship with). I don't see many Twitterers or Facebookers or even bloggers doing it much; Google brain damage is our unstoppable epidemic, after all. We have to fight to think, force quit all the applications we're running, and reboot to process where we're really headed. Otherwise we'll keep clicking the mouse, like mice clicking that loaded trap, and wind up tail up, out of time. Time is all we have. What relationships are we spending it on?
But the other thing this list shows me is that all of these relationships are interconnected. They'll end up saying something about me (and not only in my Facebook pics). My ability to reach people and form more relationships is dependent on effectively evaluating the costs and choosing only the next step that's right in front of me with the relationships at hand. If I try to skip over a couple steps or form new relationships beyond my reach, I'll find the curse rather than the blessing. God, keep me from overextending my reach!
Anyway, I hope you find some of this useful in your thoughtful time. But more importantly, make sure you break away to think about the relationships you want to deepen over the next few months. Then look at each week and decide the costs you're willing to pay to get there. Are they reasonable? Can you pay them? And what are the real costs?
You may not share this mission.
Maybe you feel more strongly for something else. Maybe your creative spirit soars to different music. Maybe you don't know what I'm on about discussing books for this "missing middle."
That's okay.
Do your thing and do it well.
But for nearly 20 years, maybe longer, I've been disappointed by Christianity. I've lived in the shadow of something I considered an embarrassment. It seemed to follow me around wherever I looked. I was guilty by association. In the popular parlance of my childhood and early adulthood which took place in the early 80s and 90s, the adjective "Christian" was largely synonymous with "a shoddy, reduced copy."
Some of you know what I'm talking about. Some of you don't.
Sure we had Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith. Frank Peretti wrote that big thriller. And there were a number of excellently produced boycotts. But for every reason to be proud, there were 100 reasons to cringe.
Now that is finally changing, after all this time--in music, in movies, and in books. In my industry--books--the popular interest in spiritual things is welcome indeed.
The Christian pop culture was described well in Rapture Ready! by Daniel Radosh. This is the parallel universe I grew up in. An old article/reviewby Hannah Rosin said:
"A young Christian can get the idea that her religion is a tinny, desperate thing that can't compete with the secular culture. A Christian friend who'd grown up totally sheltered once wrote to me that the first time he heard a Top 40 station he was horrified, and not because of the racy lyrics: 'Suddenly, my lifelong suspicions became crystal clear,' he wrote. 'Christian subculture was nothing but a commercialized rip-off of the mainstream, done with wretched quality and an apocryphal insistence on the sanitization of reality.'"
Where souls are at stake, it seems, creative work is restricted. And where creative work is restricted, it becomes a clanging gong, serving only those already in the club. That's one reason (as Rosin says) “it's always been a stretch to defend Christian pop culture as the path to eternal salvation.” So now can we write books that are Christian but not for Christians? That's where this middle ground is opening up between CBA and ABA through books like The Shack and others. Will we escape the confines of these walls and face up to the fact that a Christian pop culture does not save souls, has never really been about that underneath anyway, and conflicts and confuses converts with its “eternal oxymoron?”
Here’s my answer: No. Some can’t. And some shouldn’t. They have God to answer to. Some have been called to preach to the choir to encourage them to sing, and to keep singing even in the face of incredible opposition. Yes, these folks are needed. Let me not stand in their way.
But here’s my answer to the new voices: Yes. You don’t have to produce the Jesus Junk and the Kinkade Kommemorative Kolection just because you’re a Christian. There’s a big world out there waiting for your junk, er, work, and Andy Crouch and Mako Fujimura and many "covert Christians" are working to define that space and help it survive its infancy and get off the ground. You'll take some flak for it, but less than you'd expect. It's pretty well established by now--in books like Don Miller's and Rob Bell's and David Kinnaman's unChristian--that there's a problem here and it's not going away until we deal with it.
So if you are a writer (elitist, hack, or otherwise), who has a vision for something nontraditional that doesn't fit in the current Christian pop culture market, several modern-world changes are contributing to (as Paulo Coehlo says in The Alchemist) "conspire in your favor." And this should give you all the confidence you need to step out and not accept confinement to your previous notions.
Start by reading all the authors and books mentioned in this post. And by sharing your thoughts here. And coming back.
Christian publishing may be more recognized than ever. But that doesn’t mean anyone knows how to sell to the avowed-unaffiliated, spiritually-interested audience.
In fact, there’s strong evidence a big house can’t because more readers are moving “off the grid” every day. Someone said recently that a quiet cultural revolution is underway, especially in publishing—the anti-establishment sentiment seems to be at a fever pitch amongst certain readers and growing louder by the day.
Oh, you’ve noticed? That’s good. Because whether or not CBA survives its uncertain and awkward teen years (never threatening the reach of its big brother
Let the good times roll!
CBA gatekeepers and storeowners can continue to keep “seeker” books out of their stores all they want. Christian publishers can be wary. But those authors and houses who want to do more seeker-friendly books have plenty of ways to reach that broader audience. Outside CBA lies the open sea of the general market and the bottomless Internet. Is viral and guerilla marketing as effective as store placement, big ads, and catalog spreads? It’s hard to argue “No,” when talking about the spiritually-interested book. Spiritual forum discussions, videos, blog tours, downloadable bonus content, interactive web interviews, and other creative promotions are generating interest and sales. Traditional live events, media coverage, reporting, and book reviews, are morphing into online content through alternative news and spiritual websites like Salon.com, Beliefnet, and book clubs. And anecdotal evidence says more people are seeing an author’s self-promotion in regional independent
By the way, we know it’s been building for several years. These readers have always been a fairly …unusual breed…okay, nerdy nonconformists. Sure, they liked believing they could be accepted in the establishment in-crowd, when it was still new. But marketing has changed all that. The big houses now feel phony and old and sad trying to target the unaffiliated. So for authors, this means the vision you construct for convincing retailers to take your spiritually-themed book will be easier to pitch as unique and desireable (and money-making) for not being mainstream. Because here’s the sound-byte of the century: aligning with big mainstream publishing—general or Christian—can be a liability to spiritually-curious readers.
Plenty of people still like the establishment, including myself. But that doesn't change the fact that these are interesting times in publishing. Any case studies? Leave a comment and we'll discuss.
Welcome spiritually-curious readers and writers. If you have questions about the audience of The Shack or wonder about the best ways to reach this nebulous psychographic of readers, you're in the right place.
Ready to look at our burning questions from last time?
Q: Why are these [spiritually-interested] books without a clear goal or “take-away” so vastly superior for this audience?
This is an answer you need when it comes time to pitch your book. Bottom line: the experience of these books IS the take-away. The story is the appeal. Fiction and non-, the point is in the journey, not the goal or destination. This means the emphasis is on allowing the entire progression of the narrative to “teach” the message, and not offering the usual didactic, message-driven approach propped up by illustrations or manipulated scenes in a novel. Authors of these books start at a different place, often intending to discover alongside the reader, not to design a coersive read. Largely, these are writers seeking after mystery and beauty, not answers or reassurance.
Q: What's the best way to prove I can reach these readers?
By doing it. Reaching this audience absolutely requires a satisfying read like the one I just described. Whether that’s self-help, memoir, fiction, or investigative journalism, you have to get people talking about the amazing and unique experience your book is. And that writing skill goes hand-in-hand with your skill in marketing. The shift toward more author-driven marketing is strong proof of our increased desire to hear an authentic individual’s story as opposed to the familiar hard-sell coersion tactics of ad campaigns and publicity spin-doctors. You either embrace this new-world thinking and feel passionately about it, or you don’t. As I always point out to potential authors, if you’re onto something and you know it, it’s just a matter of time before others know it too. Ultimately, your marketing should be an extension of your passionate search in your writing. How you prove that is by being an authentically passionate connector (We’ll get more specific about this in next week’s post).
Q: Should I just self-publish my spiritually-interested book?
Good question. It follows a more important one: Do I have one book or several? If you are a career writer, you need to put in the time to your craft and learning the business to find a partner you feel best understands you and serves your ambition level. If you have one book or one burning story within you, it might be best to look outside of professional publishing. I make this distinction when it comes to spiritually-interested books because few writers can (or want to) write several. Staying in a perpetual state of searching is hard to keep up (ask Don Miller). There’s something of a life-stage consideration here—an age where self-awareness and spiritual evaluation is where you are, and a possibly more spiritually-mature stage where you are more decided in your outlook. Your comfort with mystery vs. assurance may change over time and that’s normal. Another reason is producing your book on your own can actually be a benefit in reaching this audience since you aren’t affiliated with any established, traditional house and won’t have to cater to them or compromise to fit their assumptions about the audience. Smart readers like yours are very aware of that dynamic and actually like the idea of an undiluted read (The Shack as exhibit A here again).
Q: Are some publishers and retailers really actively seeking these books?
Absolutely. In fact, I’m not sure you can find an adult general trade publisher in Christian or general market who wouldn’t be open to looking at a book for the spiritually-interested audience. All will have their own particular flavors and assumptions, but again, self-publishing is a great way to prove you have an audience and can connect with them before attempting to find a publishing partner. Of course, you need to consider how well a potential Christian publisher partner is able to reach the general market, because the place these readers are generally not is Christian bookstores or the Christian shelves at Barnes and Noble. If you see yourself next to John Eldredge and Bruce Wilkinson, you might want to reconsider your approach.
As always, your questions, comments and complaints are welcome and appreciated. Next time we’ll talk about what you can specifically do to find readers and build a following. Until then, don’t sweat any of this--and keep writing!
Congratulations, you've just finished your cross-market book. So how are you going to increase visibility (and all-important sales) to your audience? Will you choose:
A. By reading Mick's brilliant blog post here.
B. What? Promote? That's the publisher's job. Or
C. I figured I'd learn all that once I get a contract.
If you answered B or C, give yourself a little slap. Wake up. While you were sleeping, it became your task to prove why your book is important. And the best way to do that is to show how it's a part of a sizeable movement—the "spiritually-interested" movement.
The top Christian publishers owned by larger NY parent houses may be positioned to exploit this large area, but their awareness of it and how to reach it is still fairly, well, not always stellar. Some have seen moderate-to-big success with these kinds of books, but whether by accident or intent is largely conjecture. The encouraging news is that many of the authors of these books had modest platforms, or no platform at all before, and whether or not a particular publisher is heavily personality-driven in its philosophy, the appeal of these books is often message-driven, content-driven, and reader-need-driven. In short, there’s a strong “heart incentive” here for readers you can tap into in your marketing. The author best positioned to succeed in winning readers in this audience is the one who proves he or she can lead the way to defining and even shaping this newer category (I like the word “psychographic”) of publishing.
Some big reasons to take control of your publicity:
1. This new territory is wonderfully wide open. That means you can largely define the shape of your approach (more on that in following posts).
2. This spiritually-curious audience is media-saavy and uber-connected. There's a good reason top-Twitterer Ashton Kutcher found The Shack.
3. Existing CBA stores are closing at a faster rate than new CBA stores are opening, and commerce in general is shifting away from brick-and-mortar stores to the Internet. This has been going on for some time, but most CBA retail commerce is controlled (and limited) by just a handful of channels—including FCS, LifeWay, Mardel, CBD, Choice, Parable, and a collection of independents. When you add up all the units typically sold through these channels, first-year sell-through projections are rather low for all but a handful of Christian authors. So publishers are finding it necessary to follow authors' leads who can effectively identify and sell into the new online and viral sales channels (to which, spiritually-interested books are especially suited). This means you're much more likely to find a top publisher if you're already active in promotion.
4. Most importantly, you need your message to go to more than book-readers, believers, or any other category familiar to a publicity team. Let's just say these spiritually-interested folks don’t typically shop in CBA stores. Christian and general market retailers are generally averse to new genres (and even to many established genres). They like their usual areas--Christian living, genre fiction, diet books, whatever--and maybe a few others (proven best-selling authors and really cheap books). This limits publishers commercially. Taking on a new mission like this is attractive to a house and spurs greater innovation, creativity, and entrepreneurship. And again, authors have a huge opportunity to be the lead entrepreneurs here.
In short, as author of a spiritually-interested book, you have the opportunity to identify and test new strategies in sales and marketing, in line with the present and future of book publishing. And that's attractive no matter what kind of book you've written.
As authors, we must define this vision and ensure it’s understood in our proposals and manuscripts. We must incite passion in our publishing teams for reaching this large audience. And we need to explore nontraditional ways to “pitch” the appeal of these books.
We'll unpack much of this with more practicals in the posts to follow. Some questions we'll answer next time:
Q: Why are these books without a clear goal or “take-away” so vastly superior for this audience?
Q: What's the best way to prove I can reach these readers?
Q: Should I just self-publish my spiritually-interested book?
Q: Are some publishers and retailers really actively seeking these books?
Come on back. I think you'll like the answers.
In the closing month of 2008,
- 20% of Americans said they have “heard God’s voice”
- 55% feel they are protected by a guardian angel
- 23% say they have witnessed a miraculous physical healing
In a similar survey in 2005, 67% of Americans were convinced heaven exists. Dick Staub made an interesting related commentary recently about all these spiritual seekers (estimates say it’s commonly around 82% of Americans) who perpetually come up empty in their spiritual search. This is not a new audience.
But the “spiritually interested” audience is this group. Among their primary interests are a spiritual reality that isn’t immediately apparent to the five senses. They are not necessarily looking for doctrine, Bible studies, or tips on successful living. They are not even necessarily looking for verifiable proof, tangible evidence, or practical application of this spiritual reality. Their interest is more elemental—tracking closely with universal human curiosity. To wit, the spiritually interested are:
- Open to new ideas and possibilities
- Eager to consider new ways of looking at life and reality and the universe
- Concerned about issues such as personal freedom, self-realization, destiny, fulfillment
- Not geared to motivators such as paranoia, shame, legalism, and fear. In contrast to many evangelicals, these motivators are off-putting to the spiritually interested.
- If God exists, they want to know that he/she/it loves them
- Tuned into invisible reality, which includes spiritual reality, parallel reality, mystical reality, supernatural phenomena, mystery, spiritual power, intersections between the physical realm and the spiritual realm, and direct experience of these things
- Tuned into spiritual power, especially as it helps them live everyday life and achieve their goals/desires/aspirations
- Interested in exerting control over external circumstances through spiritual means
- Driven by direct experience over theory, logic, or arguments
- Open to new possibilities, not bound to dogma, religious systems, schools of thought or worldviews.
This “cafeteria-style” approach to belief, religion, and spirituality is exhibited in the self-improvement fields, which lends itself very nicely to current CBA and
- Natural laws of the universe and how one can live in harmony with it
- Special wisdom and/or knowledge about those laws, power within them, and often control over them for personal gain and making sense of chaotic life
- The future and what lies ahead
- The other side, heaven, the afterlife, angels, the parallel spiritual realm, non-corporeal experience
In general, the types, genres and categories for these books is broad. They can be fiction or non, straight-forward or deceptive, traditional or quirky, literary or crassly commercial. They may have direct discussion of spiritual reality or opt for organic discussion of spiritual reality woven in. They may speak of Christianity as a supernatural faith, of meeting God & the devil on Haight-Asbury, or finding Heaven in an oil-slicked parking lot. They may be tame or surprisingly wild, serious or funny, artless or crafted, emotional or intellectual, scientific or not. Most will engage with experimental elements that break assumptions and illuminate a supernatural theme (which can include everything from vampires to superheroes to commercial thrillers to literary magical realism).
Some comparative titles to this audience:
The Shack, William Young (Windblown Media)
Dinner with a Perfect Stranger, David Gregory (WaterBrook)
The Secret, Rhonda Byrne (Atria)
A New Earth, Eckhart Tolle (Plume)
The Power of Now, Eckhart Tolle (
90 Minutes in Heaven, Don Piper with Cecil Murphey (Revell/Baker)
The Year of Living Biblically, A.J. Jacobs (S&S;)
Walking the Bible, Bruce Feiler (Harper)
Journey of Desire, John Eldredge (Nelson)
The Faith Club, Idliby, Oliver, Warner (Free Press)
What Jesus Meant, Garry Willis (Viking)
The Traveler’s Gift, Andy Andrews (Nelson)
Closer Than Your Skin, Susan Hill (WaterBrook)
Dean Koontz and Stephen King. Francis Collins and Timothy Keller. This audience is not a new one. Obviously, this creates something of a “supercategory” that quickly becomes unwieldy. But for readers of this blog, I hope you see how it may include books that present an indirect gospel essence to those not yet convinced. Books of this nature don’t sound like a typical Evangelical Christian book, largely because they aren’t written by your typical Evangelical Christian. Yet these books can still be completely orthodox and in line with the biblical account while connecting with an audience most Christian books will never reach. This is why publishing to the “spiritually interested” is a significant growth area and we need to find out how best to position ourselves to intentionally and strategically target this market.
That is the million dollar question. If your book with spiritual themes can invite anybody in no matter what they believe, and put them on an equal footing, without teaching or preaching, that’s the first step. If you allow readers to draw their own conclusions, if you are comfortable asking “What if ….?,” and allownig your curiosity to guide you, you can write for this audience. If you acknowledge that there is still much to be discovered about the universe, the challenges of life, God, spiritual reality, etc., and you are someone who asks Why me? instead of feeling grand or entitled to your opinions, you have the voice. This makes you valueable to this type of reader. Because these readers are looking for authenticity, an author who knows enough to ask that question and not expect an answer is someone different than those the establishment likes to hype. Nine times out of 10, they’re more real. And readers want their books for that reason.
This is how you will open the door wide to the "emerging" readership.
"Spiritually interested" is the rather obtuse designation Cathy Grossman borrowed for her article in USA Today speaking about the audience of The Shack. The term comes from Wayne Jacobsen, one of the publishers of the book, attempting to define the larger market for Christian books that Christian publishing is not serving. Since one of my stated goals for this website is to bridge that gap, I think it might be instructive to discuss whether Christian publishing should appeal to more than Christians. After all, like faith without works, or a church that doesn't evangelize, the situation seems unnecessarily restrictive at best, at worst unbiblical.
So our question from last time was, How does one capture the tone, approach, and appeal in this blossoming category of books for the spiritually interested? Some primary distinctives are that these books:
- Do not identify with the Christian subculture or the Christian product and media industries.
- Focus on experiential faith over propositional truth: Not arguments or lessons, but immersion in a direct, story-driven experience.
- Show supernatural experience not “evidence” (natural or biblical): The transcendence of God intervening in everyday life through “dispatches from the other side.”
- Are mysterious over convincing, allowing an experience that’s open-ended, unexplained, and even inconclusive.
- Are timely and timeless, revealing the here-and-now God unbound to traditionalism, and intimately involved in our uncertainty about the present and near-future.
- Reveal love triumphing over law, in relationship-affirming and life-honoring freedom from formal religious dogma, judgment, or mediation.
Before hurrying on, we should talk more about that first bullet. Those looking for books outside the strict confines of popular Christianity generally don’t seem to spend much time looking in places the gatekeepers control, namely Christian bookstores. And though there are several exceptions, the obvious limiting factor in getting these books read is that they are not “Christian” enough for Evangelical Christian readers, and up until recently, were too spiritual for most NY houses.
But now you see, that’s changing. These books for the spiritually interested are not coersive, they don't pound principles, which is a major reason they fit better in the general market than the Christian subculture. They aren’t closed to including what doesn’t currently fit modern Christianity. These books are redemptive, but their redemption comes in the jouney, not the destination. The “take-away” is of becoming engaged in an exploration, not to fix something, convert skeptics, or even evoke a quatifiable change, but to enjoy a satisfying read. The Shack, while not high literature, provides an example of book-as-interpretive-experience that causes readers to explore. That exploration attracts many “recovering Christians,” but the transcendent experience is broader and more profound than simple affirmation. The Shack challenges stereotypes about God to present him as a generous, fun-loving, approachable mother/father, with a single agenda of bringing unconditional, sacrificial love into the world. In religion and in larger society, that's an easy reality to miss. And what I find so exciting about this example is that despite its initial rejection by CBA and ABA publishers, it's revealed a huge desire for discussion about this God who doesn't necessarily begin and end in our established categories.
So why did Christian or NY editors believe their houses shouldn't publish it? Several possibilities, but "too risky" and "not up to snuff" seem likely to this editor.
The Shack proves there's an audience of spiritually interested folks who are not being served either by the so-called Christian ghetto or the ivory towers.
Some take issue with the idea of designating books as Christian at all. One result of The Shack's success is that readers now recognize there's something more to God and maybe even this word "Christian" than they realized. Maybe David Sessions wasn't just being bombastic when he said that the divide between Christian and mainstream designations has been the single most damaging idea to Christianity in the modern world.
Of course, here are the sticky swamplands. If it's not Christian, how do we know it’s wholesome? Can we really let people be their own judges of that? Many rely on labels in today’s hyper-marketed culture, myself included. Where do we redraw the lines of this demographic? And I don't want to waste time arguing about the morality of blurring this line--hoping for a greater reach isn't a failure of faith. I don't question those who still feel called to be Christian writers, and never anything less. But the challenge remains. There's a big underserved audience out there. How are we going to reach them?
The good news is, reaching this spiritually interested audience isn't only possible, it's profitable. So next time we'll take a closer look at some comparative books and content characteristics that should reveal a bit more about how we define this emerging category.
Earlier this year (2009), I led a discussion of The Shack and it’s impact on Christian publishing at the Northwest Christian Writers Renewal. Response to that was overwhelmingly positive from the largely Christian group of writers, but as usual, I didn’t get to much of what I was excited to talk about. Most people were far too busy discussing its theology and the successes and failures therein. And though debate about it seems to have died down to a low rumble now, sales continue to clip along for this “heretical” “life-saving” pseudo-fictional book.
Whether you love it or hate it, if you’re interested in the question above as much as I am, you will at least like this post. Because what I was so eager to get to at the NCWR was this question of who is buying this book. Let’s do some quick analysis.
In early 2008, an article in USA Today defined the audience of The Shack as the rather broad, unwieldy category of “spiritually interested.” But who are they? This audience is curious about spiritual matters, but especially as found outside of organized religion and the religious establishment, however we might define that. Maybe most significant about readers who recommend this book, they tend to be interested in the uncommon approach to the Christian God, and most, how he responds to our pain. They may or may not be Christian, but they’re attracted to the God they meet here (who IS largely the Judeo Christian God of the Bible: http://bit.ly/5srJo), and they are eager for an honest experience of God’s love and transcendence.
We might discuss how much less eager traditional Christian churches tend to be for such “extra-biblical” experience and how that defecit created the chasm for this book. That’s a great topic. Or we could look at the growing dissatisfaction with and breakdown of the modern Christian retail industry being undermined by fundamentalists and the traditional establishment creating a bubble, a ghetto, an ivory tower set apart from the very people Jesus worked so hard to get us to serve. Another great topic. But let’s ask another question instead.
How do these “pioneers” differ from the more traditional Christian book market?
Mystery over certainty Certainty over mystery
Experiential faith Propositional truth
Freedom from structure Structure to their freedom
Personal authority Authority figures
Love at the expense of truth Truth at the expense of love
Authenticity over status Status over authenticity
Relationship over rules Rules over relationship
Maleable, interpretive Concrete, quantifiable
A story over principles Principles over a story
Seeking over knowing Knowing over seeking
Pioneers have been conquering this literary frontier for a while. John Eldredge and Brent Curtis took this experience-based, non-propositional approach in The Sacred Romance and Journey of Desire. Meanwhile Henry Blackaby wrote Experiencing God for the church set and Wilkinson’s The Prayer of Jabez revealed a God who longed to bless. Lauren Winner followed suit with her memoir Girl Meets God, quickly followed by Donald Miller’s meandering Blue Like Jazz and somewhere in this Brian McLaren released A New Kind of Christian. Soon, an unlikely pastor named Rob Bell jumped in with Velvet Elvis and the territory began to get fairly well carved out by various other new voices. One of my personal favorites—Closer Than Your Skin by Susan Hill (WaterBrook, 2007)—uses Susan’s amazing personal journey of discovery to show how to truly know the creator of the eternal reality all around us. No bubbles in there.
So to help these pioneers move closer in their journey toward God through authentic spiritual experience, and to encourage them to explore and process new questions about God, the Bible, and faith, we need to understand how to capture the tone, approach, and appeal in this blossoming category. More on that next time.
I'm not Episcopalian. Sometimes I wish I were. Or maybe Catholic--just one of these denominations that makes a really big deal about the "sacrament," the "host," communion. I enjoy every once in a while focusing on the original meaning of the metaphor—remembering Christ's sacrifice in the physical symbols of His love. That we can remember the most beautiful fact of human existence--restoration--through the elemental symbols--eating a flayed, disfigured body and drinking its spilled blood—it can easily feel to me like trying to think of eternity. It overwhelms us.
But at the heart of that metaphor, there's a deep truth: the experience of grace is shocking.
Remember the central scene in The Matrix (or what I think of as the central scene) when Neo has taken the red pill? As he's about to enter the real world, he sees his broken reflection in the mirror. And suddenly, the image repairs itself. He's intrigued, reaches out to touch it and the reflection comes off on his hand, a silvery liquid, and it starts to slide up his arm, across his body and up his neck, growing until it overtakes him and we follow as it enters through his mouth.
That's like grace. It awakens you. It overwhelms you. It replaces you.
It's been my experience that grace causes awareness of life to increase. When you witness it, you're replaced by a more deeply-aware you. You're less distracted by the monotone of the world around you. Somehow, the experience awakens you to the taste of more real life, the life underneath that remained silent before you'd been shown it. If you've seen Babbette's Feast or Big Night or Ratatoille, you understand something of grace. It seems there are a few of these moments in life where you realize that something like this is happening. You're being shown a picture of grace, and you may or may not miss the opportunity to be grateful for that new awareness, but you're struck again at how you can never seem to anticipate the surprise of it. Maybe it came even though you worried about taking the red pill, wondering if you'd be sorry. But the surprise itself almost made it worth it. The mellow sting of the wine hit your tongue where you expected only grape juice. That was grace. The blood was not cheap. It wasn't artificially flavored. And it wasn't diluted with too much tepid water as you've learned to expect.
Do you know that feeling?
Muslims understand this idea of using the body's desire for food to surprise and shock it into deeper awareness. You eat better during Ramadan, the holy fast. No one eats until sunset. And then at supper, when your stomach and your senses are already heightened from the longing, and you place that spicy soup into your mouth, and savor it anew, you realize this is about more than being fed. You wonder if anything has ever tasted so good. And how could you ever go back to Saltines and grape juice?
“As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.” —Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
There's a reason we're hearing more about the "slow food" movement, local restaurants using local ingredients, farmers markets, suburban farming, and authors like Michael Pollan rising to prominence. Our world is starving for this deeper life. And I believe many of us suspect, if not fully realize, that food is a major vehicle to transcendent awareness and deep grace.
It's in this way, I think good writers are like food, a vehicle to awaken deeper awareness of the world and bring people to life again. That is creative writing. That is why we strive to use every tool available, to shock people's senses and take their awareness deeper. The metaphors are literally everywhere if we can only learn to see them.
Imagine being able to taste what your whole life was leading up to you tasting. With the cracking of a fresh loaf of crusty bread, one moment of elusive perfection for which taste buds were created, you may realize that for as much life as you can know, you are here, only for now, to know it.
That is grace.
May we learn the shocking grace that's given to us all, even if only through a movie, a metaphor, or a writer's poor, stolen approximations.
"This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us." --The Gospel of Luke
"Truth is the highest expression of love. A lot of times I won't say something to folks because I don't want to hurt them and I want to be liked. Whenever I do that, I try to convince myself that I'm practicing love. But I delude myself. Love looks you straight in the eye and speaks truth. When we fail to do that, it's generally because we value personal comfort more that another's growth." --Philip Gulley, Hometown Reflections
"We are most alive when we're in love." --John Updike
Being in love isn't the same anymore. We've remade love, having made love into something it isn't. Making love, isn't. Being in love, isn't. We've lost ourselves accordingly. And if God is love, is it any wonder we've lost him too?
I think our dearly departed John had it right: we are most alive when we're in love. But being in love isn't feeling romantic about someone. It's being in Christ. And Christ in us. We love because he first loved us. How simple it once was. We only came to life because of love. And at some time in most our lives, that simple truth is enough.
And as Luke says, when we love others, we love God. But as Philip says, it isn't easy. We sabotage it. To be "in love" and fully alive, we have to learn how to love others like it's our job. For writers, that's writing and sharing the deepest parts and never backing down when it gets uncomfortable.
Make that your goal next time you sit down to write. Work at truly loving others through your words, through your characters. Because through them, you're loving the One who made them.
Inspired by Steven Levy’s recent article for Wired on “The Burden of Twitter,” I’m encouraged to agree with him. I often feel guilty too. I have a blog I haven't contributed to regularly for several months. I feel more than guilty—approaching inadequate--that all my pals on Facebook have so much time to post cool pictures and updates, while I’m still struggling to update from my Christmas pictures. And not only haven't I ever Dugg anything since, well, ever, I don’t really even know what Digging does.
I really do find social networking pretty cool—in some ways, I mean. Facebook has been incredible in linking me up with old people from my more embarrassing days. And posting short updates on there feels much more immediate and relevant than this old blog, not to mention the old novel sitting on my hard drive for nigh on 6 years now. And I love feeling like we’re at the start of something that could be really great for our writing community.
But there’s still that nagging sense that because I have limited time and/or desire to divulge every bit of info about myself to the world, I'm only skimming the surface of the formerly deep (or at least deeper) waters of our withering social construct. And even at that, I'm not making any really significant contribution. I feel like I’m more connected, and yet less really connecting, all the time.
And I have a feeling that not only have I felt that before--I'll feel it again and again.
So, as a result, I fight back. I work harder to provide something more meaningful than the rest of the emailers, bloggers, Facebookians, and tweeters, which in itself is a perpetual burden. How do you provide something more meaningful in a 140-character update?
This very question reveals more about me than I'm sure I'm comfortable revealing.
Which delivers us to the ultimate insult: as I strive to make more substantial deposits into the stretching info abyss, the more difficult and unnecessary it seems to preserve something good for the more substantial repositories—books, for instance. That’s right. Remember those? I wonder if one day we’ll look up and realize what fools we were to think we could keep heading so quickly into the future and still hold onto our quaint notion of continuing to invest in the antiquated analog of print publication. We get immediate response this way. And the words don't get nearly as polished. There's much less frustration. Why would anyone work at words the old, harder way anymore?
But I suppose just as the Internet is rewriting all our futures, it's revising this particular piece of common wisdom as well: best not to ask questions you don't want Google to answer.
Until then, I’ll keep working to calm myself by unplugging periodically and reassuring myself that there’s far more value in time spent writing for a book over a blog post.
And yes, I will now go mention this new post on Twitter and Facebook.
I find the phrase, “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should” works for so many things.
When a woman is wearing earrings too big for her neck to reasonably hold up. When I feel like giving my snarkier answer. When my 3-year-old decides she needs to stand up on the swings: Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. I’m afraid it’s becoming a pet phrase that’s going to show up in my writing if I’m not careful, like too many “looks” or “likes.”
John Updike made this plea to publishers about digitizing books. We didn’t know enough about this man (I’m predicting many more people are about to find this out). From a recent PW article: “Publishing scarcely needs glamour,” he said, “when it has at its command something better, beauty—the beauty of the book.” And “Books are intrinsic to our human identity.” I’m inclined to agree. Not to mention that copyright is effectively unenforceable online. The web doesn’t care and neither do browsers. Words are no longer controlled, packaged, and protected. But now, more than ever, it’s vital we don’t lose the ability to attribute ideas to their origins.
We don’t need to dismiss physical books and ownership entirely. We need to rebalance them with emerging markets.
This idea of balance is essential for writers. We don’t live in the present. We live in the past, largely of our experiences. We live some in the future too, but never the present. We’re forced to ignore it completely. Tune it out. Work to overcome it, block it, restrict its influence by every possible means, going to extreme lengths to ensure the present doesn’t impinge.
How do we maintain this, living in another time and place? By strength of will. We reassure ourselves that destroying the present is the greatest thing we can accomplish in this moment. Stealing it for stolen words. Escaping it, transcending it and reaching beyond to the future by anchoring the past. “He who neglects the present moment throws away all he has.” --Johann Friedrich von Schille. Yet our forfeit of our present lives is another’s liberation, whether the book is high literature or genre fiction.
Spending your days writing changes not only the perception of time, but adds a dose of satisfaction to successfully neglecting it. Throwing away all we have can sound deliciously enticing. There’s something in here about killing ourselves in order to live…
Dick Cavett’s recently rereleased discussion with Updike and Cheever from 1981 brought another idea about balance to mind. What makes a book “literature” as opposed to genre fiction? Updike wrote penetrating social commentary that expanded my understanding of empirical truths. But as we move further and further toward a world bent on disconnecting and escaping, I'm finding more novels have less in them. Genre fiction is a simpler sketch of life, a diluted mixture drawn from the richer substance of the real world—"great taste, less filling." Escaping into these books is delightful, relaxing, something like a good day at the beach or watching an old Fred Astaire movie. These books are important for that reason—as detox from full-strength life.
The other kind is harder to read. These books heat different passions, hatch stranger ideas, crack icy hearts, and break through made-up minds. Many require a certain agreement from the reader to believe in the larger aim, that the reward will be great if we can get there. When you forfeit lighter entertainment to engage the mind and heart in exploring themes more fully, the mystery is often more what will happen to you as a result of reading it, as opposed to what will happen in the story.
The spectrum between pure entertainment and pure "education" novels is broad and neither can exist without something of the other. We laugh when something is so true and put so well. And we learn when we’re not even trying. Laughter teaches too. I believe the goal is balance. “Those who make a distinction between education and entertainment don’t know the first thing about either.” (Google tells me this quote comes from distinguished sociologist Marshall McLuhan, whose great book The Medium Is the Massage is essential reading).
The point is writers must find who they are—and write from that. Don’t write to a trend unless it’s one of your passions. And don’t force yourself to write what you aren’t naturally inclined toward already. We’ve got to understand that writing what we know means first being who we are. And when it comes to writing,
“Just because you can…
I get this question a lot. Especially at writer's conferences. At a writer’s conference, there’s always too much information. You need to purge it and sift through it afterwards. And some things need to be debunked, clarified, or given proper context. I hear things some of my colleagues say to new authors and I wonder what they’re smoking. Authors misunderstand some things, but some publishing folks talk out of their—out of turn. As I’ve told many an author, don’t believe everything you hear at a writer’s conference. When the fatigue catches up on some of us, it’s not our fault. We simply don’t know what we’re saying.
Yes, sometimes the confusion is entirely an author's fault. Many writer’s conference attendees are wasting money and time to attend their idea of "American Publishing Idol." These natural geniuses are the authors who have no pitch and sit down to read their plot synopsis, while glancing up every few seconds to see if the editor has fallen over themselves to offer up a contract on a silver platter. I imagine I'm Simon Cowell and I want to ask, “What do you think it tells me about you that you think I can make a decision to publish your book on the plot summary?” First, I don’t decide what my house publishes. Second, ten or fifteen minutes isn’t going to tell me your book’s potential appeal, especially from the plot synopsis. Third, and probably most importantly, if you think the plot is what best represents your merit, you’d better go home and do a little research before you come back. You aren’t ready to be pitching, let alone published.
I’d say it in the nicest way possible, of course. But some editors and agents add to the confusion by offering such helpful advice as “keep your eyes open” and “pay your dues.” My favorite is “do your homework.” What the @#$%! does that mean, doing your homework? Is this 3rd grade?
So today, I offer, The Non-Essential “Essential” Quality of a Publishable Author:
Here it is, ready?: Know important people. Have you heard this one? You’re supposed to research authors, agents, publishing houses, editors, and comparable titles on Google, Amazon, and your local bookstore. They want you to find interviews, news reports, trade articles, and scuttlebutt about these people and use this info to impress them. They’ll say things like “books are for people and the industry is made up of people. Do you know them, know what they like, know what appeals to them?” They’ll ask if you read PW and NYT Books and know the bestseller lists. It’s all well-meaning. Editors are swamped, so they want you to follow protocol and formal queries and treat them like professionals with little time to spare for unprepared authors. You’re supposed to convey your advantage of experience, knowledge, and deep passion for your message. And most of all, position yourself as the author not overeager to get one book or one series published, but as someone with too much going on to waste time talking about their book. See, the book doesn’t matter. It’s the vehicle, the means to the end. You should talk about the end instead: the huge media attention and public interest you’re poised to exploit, and never-directly-but-always-covertly alluding to the chance for an editor to be the hero by finding this golden, untapped opportunity.
That is, in short, “doing your homework.” And those who have invested the time, the logic goes, will rise to the top. I’ve said this at conferences myself. You won’t be daunted by the sea of rookies surrounding you because you’ll be better prepared. You’ll know what’s expected. You’ll be able to answer an editor’s 4 questions: 1) Have you read the books like yours? 2) Have you researched your market and the conventions of your genre? 3) What proof have you found that your voice is needed? 4) Are you targeting me specifically because you know what I represent and what I want to publish?
Those are the questions I have asked. Those are the things a publishable author supposedly must have to get published by a top, royalty-paying, high-profile house.
The rest of this post will now debunk that load of crap.
This is what a publishable author should have.
Publishable authors should know what they’re about. They’ll need to know why they write what they write, and not be easily swayed from their purposes by comments from rookies or even pros (though if an editor with 25+ years’ experience tells you it’s not going to work, pay attention and get why). They need to have thought through the decisions about their writing and the reader’s journey through their book, and have good reasons for doing what they did. They should know what their passion is to write and not change to fit an expectation or prejudice about what the market wants or accepts without soliciting second and third opinions by qualified, experienced counterparts in the business. This is not about forming a theory about why the market needs what you’re writing, and then boldly going out to gather the requisite evidence before you attempt to test those theories, i.e. paying more dues. You could still crash and burn, and that would be the end of your publishing career. Better to know how to filter the info, the helpful from the damaging, the “conventional” from the untenable. Better to be willing to be a little unconventional and not market saavy, because you are unique and want to say something new (or at least in a new way).
Know this: the trick to being published is writing well. And the trick to writing well is simply learning what to give away when. Most books could be better (i.e. more satisfying) if the author had told us more, or told us less, at a particular place. There’s no quick way to learning how to read your ideal reader, but authors who study them and how to satisfy them, will find an audience.
That’s your only task in becoming publishable. The “seasoning” and “dues-paying” and “market-studying” will come. Or not. After all, that’s what agents and editors are for.
Let our minds be told all they need to know by the empathy of our hearts from the pictures you paint.
We're up at the lake with the family for a few days, and I'm thinking about going into the other room to play Wii with everyone else, watch some baseball maybe, have a little more apple pie...
But a competing desire has me thinking about all the writing I haven't been getting done while I'm bounced out of my schedule and I'm wondering how to keep writing when I'm away, on vacation, just thrown off my regular game. Sure, there needs to be time to take a break from production and get away for a while, clear the head. But I don't want to break momentum in the middle of a chapter--I'm too far along to stop now and I'm wondering what happens next. You know when you're at a place where it's time to stop or time to keep going--and they just never seem to fall at the right times.
Is it a matter of planning better? If anyone has a thought about how I can manage this better, I'd love to hear it. I'm trying to stay close to my characters and how they're developing right now and I know I can't make life stop for it, so I suppose it's a matter of being as efficient as possible with the little time I do have. Capture what thoughts and developments I can and come back to it as I'm able.
Of course, being fully present and enjoying family time is necessary too. There's definitely a balance to consider here. You don't get these moments back.
What I'm thinking is probably best is to enjoy both writing and family time as I'm able and make the most of every bit I can. I can accept that I can't do it all, and I know that I'll get to finish that chapter eventually. I certainly don't want to miss the time to enjoy and make memories and get inspired by the hanging-out and just enjoying together....
Anyone else think about this? And if so, what do you think?
Happy 4th, everyone. Hope it's a fun and fruitful one.
Disagreements, differences of perspective, verbal sparring. This is what good stories thrive on. So it's no wonder that sometimes in the course of discussing things we're passionate about--like writing books--writers can get a little heated up.
I witnessed a couple minor disgreements between writers and editors this week over the definition of quality, and I was reminded of the early days of this blog, back when I'd take on the "establishment" and picket low quality in Christian publishing, excited to find quotes from folks like Marilynne Robinson in The Tennessean this week who said, "I think a lot of Christian fiction feels pat." Which sounds like she's saying something to the effect that Christian fiction is low quality, though she goes on to say that it seems many writers (many, not all) don't learn in the course of writing. And this is why it feels pat. Predictable. Expected.
These days, I think my fire has turned into a babbling brook. Or maybe a little bunny. I don't want to argue anymore. Some people think predictable writing is boring and pat and connotes low quality. Others think it's nice to escape in something comfortable and safe. Whatever. We all have different reasons for reading and different qualifications for our reading material. I think I've grown to appreciate more pat writing in recent months. I don't care if it makes me seem less intelligent or interesting at parties. Pompous objections to predictable fiction are so predictable and they bore me. So there.
After so many years of fighting for "high quality," working to define it by some objective standard, and searching for new ways to enforce it--or at least get high-quality equal attention--I'm tired of it. I love the difference of opinions, but I just want to read good stories. Maybe I'm compromising. Maybe I want too little out of life or something. But I still want a lot. I want to be surprised, challenged, gripped, inspired. I want to read things that expand my view and make me more accepting, more loving, more dead to my selfish demands, not more. I want excellence, but I want a broad definition of that when it comes to opinions about something as particular and complex as novels. Most of all, I want more respect paid to the people who just enjoy reading and for writers to forget the elitism and attitude, the arguments that go nowhere, and the whining about there not being enough good stuff to read. There is. You just might have to search for it among the piles. Or you might just have to write it yourself. Quit your grousing.
That's the way it is in life. You have to work for it.
So my word for the week is to keep reading, keep writing, and keep fighting for high quality however you define that. Just don't be narrow. And don't come barking at my readers when you don't agree my fiction is high quality. Differences of opinion are what make reading much more fun.







