Into the Fire

There is a right way to view “the story” and there are multiple other ways to view “the story”. It’s interesting that I’ve read a few novels lately which significantly challenged the “rule” to expel those things which do not contribute to “the story”. Yet the particular editor(s) who oversaw the production of said novels obviously didn’t see those things the way I saw them which surprised me in those cases because I’m usually always in favor of leaving words in instead of taking them out.

Here we go again. It’s almost mystical—it becomes impossible to interpret what will appeal to different editors at different times. Those of you who bother to read my reviews know I criticized some novels in the past few weeks—not happily, but reasonably according to my opinion. I checked others’ accounts of the novels and learned that only one other person (a published writer) agreed with me on the assessment of one of the books. I could tell it was difficult for her to do it, too, because she was fairly vague in her review. I e-mailed her to learn she really felt the same as me.

What a quandary for writers who strive to be published. Finding the agent who believes in them or “gets” them as we writers like to say. Find the editor who’ll back them as far as he can in a pub board analysis. Getting a contract can mean a few things. One, your work fits the projected trends for hopeful sales. Or two, you managed to tell your story well. Or three, your work happened along at just the right time for what the publishing house was looking for. Unfortunately, the one thing being published doesn’t tell you is that you’re a good, great, or outstanding writer. Instead it confirms you are publishable—until your sales numbers don’t warrant another contract.

“The story” is invariably the key, but everyone prefers their stories in certain ways. Within those “certain ways” a sea of conflicting opinions roils with outspoken critics and mimics and ubiquitous instructions and dissimilar responses. Another variable is the telling of good stories, but nobody knows they’re out there—the marketing issue raises its ugly head again.

If a writer takes the time—and the time is considerable—to study the gamut of opinions out there from authors, agents, editors, and publishers, he will discover there isn’t really a definitive formula for “success” in either getting published or staying published. Oh there will be plenty of definitive statements made, innumerable instructions, classes, and rules to follow, and in all of them there will also be enough conflicting information to suggest that nobody in fact knows why a book appeals to even one of the professionals, let alone several of them. And add to that: no one can truly and accurately predict what the public wants to read now, let alone next.

What professionals view as valuable (i.e. platform: education, professional titles, exposure, ministry) is a non-factor to most readers who buy novels. Publishers are thinking in terms of built-in audiences from these merits with a potential for established and predictable sales. Not always the case.

Recently on his blog, literary agent Chip MacGregor emphasized the need for a solid, even better second novel. Makes sense. If a reader picks up and enjoys the second offering as his first experience with an author, he’ll most likely return to the author’s first book. But if the reader enjoyed the first story and reads the second and comes up empty, that’s probably the end of the line for that reader and that author. One of the novels I gave a bad review was the second from the author. No way will I read the first or the third if there is one.

Most readers have a criterion for what they like even if they can’t articulate it. No one is exactly the same in their preferences which is why a book I hated is loved by others.

Words tell stories. Choose yours carefully. Lean isn’t always best. Nor is profusion. Read it. Listen to it. Do you like it? Do you love it? Does it ring true? Does it flow or jab or sigh or sing? What is your story?

Father, let us write to honor you. Let us tell the stories you have for us to tell. If humor is assigned to us, help us to laugh and be funny. If drama is our gig, give us profound depth and serious emotion. Help us to be all you designed us to be. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.