Into the Fire

Dayle’s comment yesterday spurred me on. It was just too good to ignore.

“I think ‘write the best story you can’ is translated loosely: Our process is so subjective that we really can’t tell you what to do to increase your chances. So we say write the best story you can to cover the fact that we’re wrong most of the time. Some stuff we publish bombs, some become bestsellers. If we knew the secret, every book we published would be a bestseller.”

My husband and I were in the horse racing industry for over 30 years, starting at the bottom of Thoroughbred care and working our way up the ranks to become trainers. We were professionals in an extremely competitive, ever changing industry. Some of those changes were excellent and others were harmful. Being professionals didn’t give us a blank check for succeeding in our sport. Horses you believed would excel often didn’t for reasons sometimes left undiscovered. Other horses you gave no shot became useful. Being a professional simply means you have become knowledgeable in your field of practice.

What I have observed from an outsider’s viewpoint in the Christian publishing arena are a lot of hardworking professionals sold on their approaches to the industry. It’s interesting to me that there is often a blanket admission from agents, editors, and publishing execs which resounds like an echo. Often sounding like the one Dayle paraphrased. Very uniform. Much like many of the books which are currently produced. As I’ve reiterated ad nauseam, this is what makes a lot of novels seem formulaic. And let me say something here again: I’m not criticizing the industry or any of its professionals. Somehow through the years, this is the formula they’ve decided upon and while no formula is perfect, this is the one which has evolved for them. When it doesn’t work for them, because as Dayle ad-libbed some of these novels quickly fade away without paying for themselves, who gets “blamed”? The author. The “blame” is not blatant: “We love your work, but the book just isn’t selling so we can’t justify offering you another contract.”

Further evidence of the formula factor: “A great story really is just the first step of a long journey. Without a 1) talented publishing team to help shape the novel in terms of content, format, price, and release timing . . .” This from an executive publisher and VP of the fiction division of a major CBA publishing house. If it’s such a “great story”, why does it need to be shaped in “content, format”? That’s an oxymoron. This “team” approach to making decisions usually waters down some aspect of the property being considered facilitating compromise to whoever is the most powerful person(s) at the table. While I would agree that teamwork can be an asset in many cases, I really wonder if it’s the best approach in coming to terms on a viable novel. And while I understand that a business needs to minimize risk, sometimes by employing a method which encourages compromise, a lesser product emerges—one that is similar to what has been formerly deemed “successful” by those at the table.

Recently an author who has written both non-fiction and fiction was told that the sales on the novels were low and further fiction work was not being contracted. This particular author is an avid and talented marketer, but the novels fell into a particularly competitive genre. This author received a lot of fan support, but the publisher wasn’t satisfied with sales and didn’t want to take any more chances on the fiction. What this tells me is that without a fairly quick return on a novel, an author might be history before the word has even had a chance to spread and generate sales.

Some time back John Robinson was interviewed here. He writes with men in mind, but any female who likes gritty private eye novels would enjoy his work. His three novels with the same protagonist are Until the Last Dog Dies, When Skylarks Fall, and To Skin a Cat. These are good genre books written with a little bite and sass and a healthy dollop of humor. Even the size of all three books makes for quick and enjoyable reading. He is no longer contracted because these novels didn’t have the sales’ figures needed to keep him published. Having read multiple novels in this general category and all three of John’s books, I can tell you honestly that John’s novels are every bit as good as many authors who are still having their novels produced by publishers.

We haven’t discussed the politics of publishing because I know nothing about it. What I do know is it exists. It exists in horse racing, it exists in church boardrooms, and it undoubtedly exists in some capacity in publishing—yes, even Christian publishing. However, there are few people who dare to address it or, really, most anything else in the business. It’s a tight ship and no one seems ready to rock the boat by suggesting the reason(s) or necessity for possible change. Therefore, the business as a whole must feel pretty solid right now to the powers that be. There doesn’t seem to be an undercurrent of dissatisfaction. In fact, it’s almost too quiet.

Don’t misunderstand my thoughts. Change for the sake of change is ridiculous. If you have what works for you, keep at it. If you need to explore new areas, go for it. If you find subtle things that aren’t productive, replace them. But if you find a genuine problem or limitation and choose not to address it, it will be your loss.

Each one of us is accountable to our Lord for what we do here in the time given us. Each decision can be made as a result of prayer and/or in a directional leading by the Holy Spirit. When we leave God out of anything we do, we err. He is the very life in us. Those of us who write are using the gift designated for honoring the Lord. Those who represent, edit, and publish are likewise responsible to use their gifts to bring glory to God. It isn’t just about writing . . . or agenting, or editing, or publishing. It all has an eternal value when done in obedience to God.

And so to end “The Sequel”, the author, agent, editor, and publisher all die . . . to Self.

Father, we all are desperate for you—even if we haven’t determined that yet. I am. Help me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.