by Matt Sinclair
I recently found myself in an
interesting conversation among other writers. The question posed by a novelist
with a dozen books published through a small press was essentially this: If I
don’t think my idea for my next novel will sell, should I still write it?
The vast majority of those who responded
to this thread said things was along the lines of “don’t worry about whether
it’ll sell or not. Write what you love.” Similar ideas along the lines of “don’t
follow trends” emerged, too.
That’s all good advice. I politely
disagreed.
Let me qualify that: I don’t disagree; I
just think that if a writer believes her work won’t sell, then her idea
of writing something else that has a better chance of selling is a better use
of her time.
The
debate basically became one of art versus commerce. I
think we’ve all heard that before, and it’s possible for both to be the right
approach, even for the same writer. I came at it as someone who has spent years
working, shaping, loving, and ultimately trunking more than one novel. (And you
thought the pachyderm in Elephant’s Bookshelf Press was just because I loved
elephants?)
A writer who does not want much more
than to see a work on an electronic shelf should write whatever he or she
wants. It might even catch lightning and surprise everyone, especially if that
writer has some other marketable skills like social media savvy and the
gift of gab.
I love the art of writing. If I may say
so myself, I have some beautifully written pieces … that will never garner an
audience by themselves. Perhaps if I’m fortunate enough one day to become one
of those writers whose readers want to know what groceries I bought at Costco
or Shop Rite (hmm, see that – he’s very conscious of unit costs. I bet that’s
why his most famous character is a spendthrift…), I might be able to share
those pieces. But they’re essentially exercises. Writing I practiced and did
well with, like a great workout at the gym or a run that left me feeling
reinvigorated and ready to tackle the rest of the day.
Exercise is absolutely critical to
becoming a marketable writer. Exercising the mental aspect of becoming a
sellable writer is also critical. What is the return on your investment of
time? If you spent a thousand hours writing and revising your opus, another
thousand dollars having a professional edit it, and a few hundred on a cover
artist, and sold two hundred copies, was that time and money well spent? Only
you can answer that.
At this point, my ability to live in a
house and feed my family is based entirely on my capacity for weaving words
together. (Not the fiction, mind you. But I’m working on that.)
Indeed, the explosion in self-publishing
is a wonderful way for writers of all genres to take a swing at becoming an
artist. Many of those who are doing so will not sell more than a dozen copies
to people other than their family and closest friends. They’re fine with that,
and I’m genuinely happy for them. My goals are different.
Matt Sinclair, a New York City-based journalist and fiction writer,
is also president and chief elephant officer of Elephant's Bookshelf
Press, which is hours away from publishing Battery Brothers, a YA novel by Steven Carman about a pair of brothers playing high school baseball and about overcoming crippling adversity. Matt also blogs at the Elephant's Bookshelf
and is on Twitter @elephantguy68.
10 comments:
Great post Matt. When we teach kids Writing in school, we tend to start with Purpose + Audience = Form. Knowing the audience of the piece is an integral part of the process!
Good post, Matt. It's a tough call to make, one that is very individual. The question is, how do you know if something will have an audience? That's one I sure don't know at this point. Maybe it's easier to figure out with experience.
I edit a lot of manuscripts for people, and one of the biggest issues I find is the author's failure to know and write for his audience. Great post. Thanks.
I was at a play reading with a discussion afterwards. Someone started a comment with, "I don't mean to say you should concern yourself with the audience, but..." blah, blah, blah.
I said, "I think you SHOULD concern yourself with the audience, they PAID you, and you have to give them their money's worth in entertainment value.
No one agreed with me.
And they wonder why Theatre is dead.
I do believe you have an obligation to keep your reader in mind, but defining the difference between that real audience and the one you perceive is the hard part. I often look at lists of books that made it to publication and ask myself why?
Who would interested in such a subject? What is about this book that compelled an agent or editor to recommend it? I think if we could get inside an editor's head, we'd have a better handle on this perplexing puzzle.
Thanks everyone for some really great comments! Yes, it's hard to know what will garner an audience, and it's also very hard to determine how big an audience is acceptable. That, too, is a very individual question for the self-publishing writer and a significant one for the traditional publisher.
Tina, that's a great question, and I suspect that editors' love for voice sometimes trumps a publisher's view of the potential audience. But you're absolutely right that it's perplexing.
R.S., your comment reminds me of your story in The Fall (The Last Performance of the Neighborhood Summer Theatre Festival) and how the most common criticism of it -- including by you -- is that it's not an apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic story. I totally agree that context matters, but I see the death of the theater as an apocalyptic death of culture. Abstract, perhaps, but still important.
This is a very thoughtful post. I like to keep the audience in mind as I write. Every writing task I set as an English teacher has an audience...makes a difference to how it's written.
Thank you, Denise. I really appreciate that. And keep up the good work!
Sharing your expressions with the widest possible audience is a noble goal for sure. But some artists – fortunately or unfortunately – are driven to articulate their ideas at any cost; lifestyle, relationships and health. For those brave souls, return on investment is not a high priority. In the end, if you’re serious, you’ll need to be as practical as your integrity – and your pain threshold will allow… Robbie Burns
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