Category Archives: genre

9

Genre talk

If there is one thing this blog has taught me, it is that our readers take on a wide range of genres in their writing.  Just in the comments section alone I’ve seen readers talk about the thriller, historical romance, or young adult novel they’ve been working on.

So that led me to wonder what genres in particular our readers enjoy reading, as opposed to writing. Of course, the person writing an urban fantasy novel must undoubtedly be reading as much urban fantasy as they can get their hands on in order to fully study the genre.  But it’s admittedly interesting and also surprising to hear the outside interests of our readers.  I know there’s a horror writer somewhere out there who loves those romance novels!

So my question to you today is: firstly, in what genre do you write? And secondly, when you do read outside of your genre, what are your favorites?



11

Dear Diary,

I’m thinking today about epistolary novels. And I have a lot of thoughts, not all of them connected to one another, so hopefully my discussion of them here makes sense, in a streamlined, logical thinking sort of way. Mostly, I love a good diary or letter-based book, but I wonder at the relative dearth of the genre beyond YA-fiction. Some of my favorite series (I wondered a long time how to pluralize “series” and I couldn’t figure it out) as a teenager were epistolary: Dear America, The Princess Diaries, Angus Thongs & Full Frontal Snogging et al., Meg McCafferty’s Jessica Darling books (though I will admit up front that I bought the newest, fifth book in the series only last year because, well, I just had to know what happened). On a less frivolous note, Witch Child by Celia Rees Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder affected me as well.

Frankly, it was a lot harder to think of serious, stand-alone books written as diaries or letters. Is this because the style isn’t regarded as highly or as respectable as the rest of narrative fiction? Aside from old classics like The Sorrows of Young Werther, Pamela, or Clarissa, respectable, adult fiction in an epistolary format is far and few between. One of my very favorite books is I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. Aside from it having one of the best first lines to a novel that I can think of, it’s a really wonderful story. It has depth, humor, well-developed characters and social message. Yet, the entire story is the diary of a teenager, which seems to me that the category should hardly be dismissed and relegated to the fluffy, boy-crazed and fashion-obsessed teen series shelves.

One thing, however, that has always supremely bothered me about these types of books is the practical impossibility of them. The sheer length and detail of the diary entries or letters, presumably written longhand, would relegate the narrators to sequestered rooms where they could write, undisturbed, for hours at length—meaning also that they would have no time to actually experience the things they are writing about, if the letter or journal is not solely devoted to intellectual or philosophical thought. I know that as with much of literature and film, one is meant to suspend disbelief for the sake of the art, and usually I am able to do this, but there are times when I simply cannot abide by its improbability.

Regardless, what I mean to say, simply, is that I would really appreciate some good epistolary books to add to me collection. Whether they are out there and I’m simply not aware of them (in which case, recommendations, please!) or they have yet to be written, I will defend the genre. What are your thoughts? Do diaries and letters not rate against more standard prose or is this unfiltered, wholly personal narrative that lends itself to acceptable tangents and stream of consciousness something that should be more widely untilized?



0

Get a room!

by Stephanie

In light of my post from last week about spying on others and the books they are reading, I loved reading this article from the New York Times about how romance readers are switching from print to electronic in droves. Just as I had mentioned how the Kindle and iPad complicated my creeping endeavors by removing a visual cover from the equation, it seems that many romance novel fans have made the transition from print to e-reader for exactly that reasontrying to hide Fabio from my prying eyes, are you? Anyway, new information from Bowker suggests that romance is now one of the fastest growing genres in terms of electronic sales, surpassing even general fiction. As numbers grow exponentially, it’s clear that romance is carving out its own place in the e-reader market. And apparently, some of the most sought-after titles are often also the raciest. Cheeky!

Information like this is just another indication of the change that we’re constantly seeing. And for something like romance, a genre that has held its own over the years, it’s nice to see that it too can adapt to the evolving landscape.

First of all, I love the implications of discreetness that come out of this. But I also wonder, for the prospective romance writers out there, do you think something like this might affect or influence the kind of novel you write? Will it change at all how you approach your story?

7

As I embrace my younger days

by Stephanie

After reading Jim’s post on lists, I started to do a bit of reading online, and for whatever reason, I was not prepared for the inundation of end-of-the-year lists that I found. After some perusing, I found that I particularly enjoyed Gayle Forman’s piece from NPR with her picks for some of the best young adult novels of 2010. Her list is brief but varied, and includes titles that tackle a range of universal issues: trauma, war, first love, and so on. But what I loved about this list was what I didn’t findparanormal, otherworldly, fairy-goblin-undead-vampires. Lord knows, many books have done exceedingly well this year being based in the paranormal. But it’s admittedly comforting to know that 2010 also saw its share of quality young adult fiction that involves real people tackling real issues. I wish I saw more things like this in my inbox. There’s just something about reading a young adult novel that takes on tough issues and presents me with characters that I feel I can relate toI feel myself drawn into their lives, as though I could just as easily run in to the same obstacles and emotions.

Am I talking crazy here? Maybe I’m hurling myself off the paranormal/fantasy train too soon? Who knows. Do you have any young adult favorites from this year?

14

Halloween horror

by Jim

Less than a week to go until Halloween, the best holiday of all time. Keep your fireworks, July 4th. I don’t need your candy canes, Christmas. I just want some candy corn, a scary movie, and the chance to see people wear crazy costumes and wander around.

I love a good scare. Admittedly, I go from zero to terrified pretty quickly and have been known to sleep with the lights on for days at a time when something really gets to me. But that’s never stopped me from going back for more.

I’ve said before (and maintain) that I’m looking for great horror novels. They’re not easy to find for a few reasons. There are no cheap scares in books—you can’t have a “gotcha” moment. So the suspense needs to be built, the discomfort seeded, and the terrifying aspects need to develop fully enough to stay with you as you turn each page.

As many folks know, House of Leaves is one of my favorite books. As the narrator begins to come apart, the narrative itself does as well. The author removes the safety net, and you realize that anything could happen. I still remember the act of reading one passage—how scared I was, and how hard it was to shake the feeling of being watched that the book implanted.

I’m also a big Shirley Jackson fan. Whether it’s the horror that people do in The Lottery or how convincingly spooky We Have Always Lived in the Castle is, she’s a master of unsettling.

Stephen King was pretty much my hero growing up. Looking back, some of his books don’t hold together as well as others. Let us never speak of Gerald’s Game. But when he’s on, no one can come near him. He has such an exceptional eye for what people are afraid of, and he can zero in on the most disturbing of our feelings. Whether it’s the viral fallout of The Stand, the killer clown of It, or the psychopathic fan of Misery, his great talent is in exploring (and exploiting) just what it is about these things that we find so terrifying.

What are your favorite scary books? And what’s the scariest?

7

Funny business

by John

Saw this piece by Scott Adams, creator of Dilbert, on the Wall Street Journal website (). I have to confess, Dilbert has never really done much for me, but the story Adams tells here is pretty amusing, and the tips that follow are extremely useful. I hope writers heed his advice, because while humor is central to young people’s literature—think Dr. Seuss, Judy Blume, Roald Dahl, Olivia, Lemony Snickett, DIARY Diary of a Wimpy Kid, etc., etc.—I’ve always been surprised at how few kids’ book submissions even attempt to be funny, much less actually succeed at it.

So here’s a thought for all you writers struggling with your dark, paranormal romance—maybe it’s time to leave the vampires in the ground, take a tip or two from Dilbert, and give your funny bone a workout?

6

Romance is not a dirty word

by Lauren

 

Oh, Danielle Steel! First Nicholas Sparks, now you. How can we help you make peace with romance novels? It may be true that your novels are not romance, narrowly defined by some conventions of the genre. I’m not sure I agree, but I’ll grant the premise isn’t completely without merit, not least because I’m not immune to the packaging efforts of publishers. Which is not to say your books are without their conventions—I hate to judge*, but formulaic is a word that comes to mind—but perhaps in some way those conventions are quite specific to you and your prolific output, possibly distinct enough to consider them in a separate category from other titles. However, I get the impression here, Ms. Steel, that you don’t want people to think of you as an author of romance because it devalues your work, which it turns out is some kind of lofty thing about the human condition, and that is a problem. (To be fair, you handle the issue with quite a bit more grace than Mr. Sparks.)

Romance novels can be totally fabulous. Not all of them are, sure, but that’s true in any category including whatever category you’d each like to be in. More than that, though, if you think a different label will change how seriously people take you, you’re being a bit naive. You’re both giant targets, especially you, Ms. Steel, with your shelves and shelves of bright and shiny spines branded more thoroughly than any other set of books in any store. When I worked at Barnes & Noble, you took up half a bookcase all by yourself, even without duplicate copies of anything. Trust me when I tell you that that’s a noticeable amount of gold foil and fuchsia. When people notice success, they deride it. That, my friend, is the human condition.

But you’re also massively successful with more readers than you can count and dedicated fan bases who come back for more every time it’s on offer. Let the haters hate, as they say, and take a look at your bank statement when you’re feeling insecure about what people think of you. Not because money matters more than respect or makes up for all the world’s ills, but because it proves that people keep buying your books in droves, so you’re doing something right.

Oh, and, don’t make us link this blog to the Ducktales theme again, because you know we will.

*I love to judge.

7

Holy Books and Dating

by Rachel

Back in May, I mentioned attempting to read Joseph O’Neill’s Netherland, simply because the President was reading it. I tend to be nosey and want to know what kind of book choices public figures make. So, it’s no surprise that I was interested to take a peek at the Vatican’s Secret Archives, as posted in The Guardian. Manuscripts and publications collected for more than 800 years lie within the 85 kilometers of shelving in this vault.

I thought the article on the Vatican’s archives was the most fascinating story of the week, until I saw this Wall Street Journal article by Hannah Seligson, on dating websites catering towards book lovers. For one, I don’t think partner compatibility can be based on book choices. Sure, it certainly shows you have a common area of interest if your favorite genre is sci-fi and so is your partner’s, but does this translate to a personality match also? I’m not so sure; I think a dating site for book lovers is a unique endeavor, but I think it takes a lot more than the same taste in books for compatibility.

What do you think? Do you and your partner, or friends, share the same taste in books?

7

On Reading Urban Fantasy

by Jessica

As my colleagues have mentioned at various points, DGLM has its own bookclub. Every couple of months we choose a general category of fiction—for example, Booker Prize winners, young adult novels, debut novels, etc.—and each of us reads a representative work, usually something fairly recently published. It’s a good way to stay in touch with the market, keep tabs on the trends, and broaden our exposure to writers we might not otherwise gravitate toward. This go-round was urban fantasy, a category that I’ve not read, and despite the fact that I had to hide the book’s crimson cover from my always inquisitive four-year-old: “Why, mommy, does that man have such big teeth? And why does that lady have blood on her neck?” I was glad to finally get a glimpse of a genre that has, as we all know, proven tremendously popular. The last vampire novel that I read was Elizabeth Kostova’s The Historian, and before that I’d wager that it was Bram Stoker’s Dracula, neither of which offer much insight into the present paranormal trend. After reading my bookclub selection, I did some further investigating—not least trying to figure out why the genre is called “urban fantasy,” which strikes me as an odd and imperfect sort of label. I’ve read a few explanations, but again: Why urban? The fantasy part I get.

So obviously I’m far from expert, but I find it interesting that the romantic tropes are fairly similar to non-paranormal romance: the heroine must discover her own heart and secure the love of a brooding, mysterious, slightly-threatening-but-ultimately-good man. The surrounding stakes, however, are a good bit higher (and where the undead are concerned, sharper). Here the conflicts are cosmic in scope. To proceed to her happily-ever-after, the heroine must dispatch demons, fight the armies of evil, and often save the planet. The domestic space that was once the usual canvas for women’s fiction is not quite big enough to contain the kind of challenges these women face, nor are these ladies simply resilient—they are physically powerful, sometimes lethal, and pretty much undaunted by gore. At risk of reading too much into the present trend, I wonder if the epic nature of the conflicts in which these fictional women triumph does not, in some small way reflect the way real women view their own less fantastical, but perhaps no less challenging, lives. Indeed, there’s something appealing about the notion of seeing myself as the action hero of my own story. In which case, I’m off to battle the forces of darkness, one pitch letter/contract clause at a time.

If you are a reader of urban fantasy, I’d love to hear what you love about it.

5

From the Vault: Literary v Commercial

Happy summer, everybody!  For the next while, there are going to be some absences from the blog as we take vacations, but we’d hate to leave you guys hanging.  It’s no secret that we blog much more now than when we started this baby, and there are far more of you reading than there were way back when.  So we thought we’d bring back some blog entries of days gone by that you may have missed if you just joined us in the last year.  If you have any favorites you think your fellow readers might enjoy, give us a shout below!

by Jim

It didn’t surprise me when someone asked me recently what the differences are in how I handle the projects I love and the projects I work on for money. It did, however, irritate me. The question came loaded with the insinuation that there are two kinds of books—the ones people should read and the ones they actually do. Often, I find that literary and commercial fiction are pitted against each other, as though they’re totally different beasts that serve entirely separate purposes. But is that really the case?

Too often, category fiction is treated like the bastard stepchild of the written word. But, frankly, I’m a whole lot more likely to pick up Stephen King’s new book than dive into Thomas Pynchon’s latest doorstop. Which isn’t to dismiss literary fiction, either.

Years ago, I was getting a ride to a train station from an MFA student in Massachusetts, and we talked about the challenges of fiction writing and writer’s block, not to mention how competitive the marketplace is. And then he unleashed this on me: “I could knock out the sort of mystery novels that sell hundreds of thousands of copies, but I’m better than that.” If he weren’t behind the wheel of the car, I would have smacked him upside the head. I mean, really. Do you honestly think the only thing holding people back from becoming bestselling authors is…integrity?

As I patiently explained to him (who am I kidding? I sounded like a howler monkey in heat), it takes a lot of talent to write a fantastic mystery, just as it does to write an amazing literary novel. They just happen to be very, very different talents. Anyone who thinks that just because someone is a wonderful writer means they can pull off working in other genres clearly hasn’t read Michael Cunningham’s Specimen Days. I recommend they keep it that way.

And let’s not get too far without mentioning that literary and commercial are not exact opposites. There are plenty of authors who mix the two forms freely. One can see this by reading the stunning, bleak mysteries of Dennis Lehane or the thrilling horror of Clive Barker. And is it just me, or is the award winning Cold Mountain as much a retelling of The Odyssey as it is a historical romance novel?

What I’m saying is, let’s let the snobbery go. Reading Madame Bovary can be as entertaining as reading Valley of the Dolls and vice versa, and there’s nothing wrong with that. To those people who consider genre fiction to be “guilty pleasures,” let it go. I grew up on a steady diet of Stephen King, Charles Dickens, Jackie Collins, and Victor Hugo, and I’ll happily debate the merits of Lucky Santangelo and Esmeralda any day. I’m the guy on the subway reading The New Yorker and Romantic Times.

The lines for me just aren’t that sharply drawn. So whether I’m pitching a new cozy mystery or a collection of interconnected stories previously published in literary journals, you can know one thing links them: I love both.

Originally posted in June 2007.