But What about the Quiet Ones?
By Jan O'Hara | September 19, 2011 |
An amazing book by Yannick Murphy was the impetus to pull this post together, and I’ll gush about it in a minute. First, the question I hope we can work on today:
How does a quiet book, likely written by a quiet writer, become known in a world increasingly dominated by the loud?
The background
During the time I consume a book, and sometimes for days after, I’ll linger within the fictive dream. Recently, for example, I’ve imagined that I too might:
- unleash a civilization’s redemption by offering to save my sister’s life
- be nineteen again, and need only breathe to exude sexuality
- have license to kick evil overlords in their overlordish asses
Trouble is, that entertainment comes tinged with yearning. While I might feel momentarily inspired and emboldened, it’s hard to see the book’s applicability to the regular me.
Contrast this with a different sort of novel. They tend to be what the industry calls “quiet.” They tend to be about ordinary people facing ordinary struggles searching for extraordinary grace. The characters are warmly drawn, the world infused with subtle optimism. A good portion of the book’s magic comes via its themes and texture.
On days when my biggest accomplishment is to use my inside voice with my teenagers; in weeks when the most deluded person couldn’t describe me as possessing “interestingness,” these are the books that return me to myself. They help me stand with feet connected to earth. I am validated, grateful. One might even say healed.
So what is the problem and why is it relevant to you?
Do a quick survey of writer Twitter accounts or blog posts, and you’ll see a burgeoning push-back against social media by writers of all genres. Of concern are its:
- Time-eroding properties. (See these two popular WU posts by John Vorhaus and LJ Cohen.)
- Ability to corrode communities. (If treated as a sales target by colleagues, it’s easy to become jaded and project agendas upon the innocent, who only wish to connect.)
- Possible ineffectiveness, though most authors participate, seeing no alternative to its use.
In addition to these universal social media problems, writers of quiet-but-profound books encounter further disadvantages. In particular, the holistic nature of their work defies the soundbite, the tweet, the tagging. Many times it baffles their cover artist.
In some cases, the issue is one of integrity. Call it a hunch, but the sort of person to write wise, understated prose seems less likely to have a platform that screams, “Look at meeeee.”
As a community, my hope is that we might care for and protect books like these and I believe we’d all benefit.
Since we’re not there yet, a few points to distil from all this:
- If you write, edit or publish these books, thank you! Please don’t stop. The world needs your work. (Or, I need you.)
- If you read these kind of books, please connect with me and those who comment here with solutions. We are your tribe.
- Flesh out our reading lists in the comment section below. Which authors and which fiction have a way of bringing you back to yourself? Mack on your fellow writers or tell us about your own quiet-but-profound book. (Please refrain from including sales links.)
- Can you name reliable websites or people who tap into these kind of books? Or other resources for promotion? A few known to me:
- John Warner as The Biblioracle, via his interview with Jane Friedman
- The Millions, HTMLGIANT and Bookslut, via Nathan Bransford.
- The Early Word , billed as “The Publisher|Librarian Connection,” and the reason I know about the book below, via Therese Walsh.
******
Now I want to introduce you to Yannick Murphy’s The Call, which I see in many ways as emblematic of the challenges discussed above, and which has become one of my favorite books, ever.
Ms. Murphy has eye-catching credentials and reviews. She’s the recipient of the Whiting Writer’s Award, a National Endowment for the Arts award, a Chesterfield Screenwriting award and her short fiction appeared in Dave Eggers The Best American Non-Required Reading 2009.
In the interest of brevity, I’ll include one review, but trust me, there are a ton:
“…A marvelous book: sweet and poignant without ever succumbing to easy sentiment, formally inventive and dexterous without ever seeming showy. A triumph.” ~Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
The Call is the story of a New England veterinarian, David Appleton. He’s a stoic, big-hearted man deeply rooted in family and rural community, and attune to the natural world. Since Murphy’s book is told by way of his call book entries, here’s a bit of his voice. In this snippet, he’s just returned from helping a horse with “choke.”
THIS IS WHAT I WANT ON MY TOMBSTONE: He loved his children.
WHAT THE CHILDREN SAID WHEN I GOT HOME: Pop, Mom’s in one of her moods.
WHAT THE WIFE WAS DOING: Unloading the dishwasher, but doing it by slamming the pots onto their shelves.
WHAT THE WIFE SAID: Can’t anyone else help to do this? Jen motioned with her arm, taking in the kitchen, the messy countertops, the food bits on the floor, pieces of carrots dried and turned white kicked up under the shelves. The books and papers on the table, the loud toy guns, the fishing reels needing line.
WHAT THE CHILDREN DID: Ran outside.
WHAT I DID: Ran outside.
WHAT THE CHILDREN DID: Climbed me.
WHAT I SMELLED: Their hair, a sweet smell and also an outdoors smell, the smell of fall’s fallen leaves kicked up.
David’s contentment is worn away by a series of events which threaten his income, health, and as a consequence of a hunting accident, the life of his son. As we watch him cope, we begin to wonder if the biggest casualty of all will be his open, gentle nature. Will the Appletons succumb to cynicism when it seems their town betrays them? Can David reconnect with his sense of awe and humor? Will his wife again receive spaceship transmissions — which curiously always nominate a child for bathroom-cleaning duty?
In the present world, where one need only read headlines to become embittered, this novel speaks about emotional courage, forgiveness, and everyday heroism. By book’s end, I wanted the Appletons for my neighbors, and if you read this book, I think you will too.
The Call was published by Harper Perennial, and you can find Yannick Murphy on her website.
A USA Today bestselling author, former family physician and academic, Jan O’Hara (she/her) left the world of medicine behind to follow her dreams of becoming a writer. She writes love stories that zoom from wackadoodle to heartfelt in six seconds flat: (Opposite of Frozen; Cold and Hottie; Desperate Times, Desperate Pleasures). Her latest Christmas novella, The Cowboy’s Comeback Christmas, is part of a 9-author-strong anthology (A Cowboy This Christmas: A Sweet Romance Anthology). She also contributed to Author in Progress, a Writer’s Digest Book edited by Therese Walsh.
I do love books like this, that make me FEEL what it means to be human, to see my own humanity in the characters. I don’t have any off the top of my head, but thanks for this head’s up. It might be a “quiet” book, but already it speaks volumes.
I love this, Jan. I think there is a growing sense of anxiety out there. We are told to point the spotlight at ourselves. I think many of us fear we will be sitting there in the glare, squinting and blinking to a chorus of crickets.
As a writer of Historical Fantasy, I also read quite a bit of it. My favorites tend to focus on character, relationships, values, duty, and perhaps above all, honor. The loudest and most attention-grabbing of my genre focus more on magic, destiny beyond our control, violence, dragons and other intelligent non-humans–in other words, the fantastic. Even though I don’t feel my work is exactly what you might call quiet, I’ve always feared it will be too quiet for a big, noisy genre like mine.
A wise friend told me I should hang out on the Kindle boards for my genre (thanks Cathy), and at first the idea really frightened me. I imagined a lot of snarky video-gamers, sniping at what they would deem the pansy-ass books I love (and wrote). They’re there. But guess who else is there: readers like me, searching for quieter books in the genre. Sure, we are fewer in number, but I was heartened to find there are others.
Thanks, Jan, for initiating this conversation. I’m looking forward to reading the other comments.
This taps into the point @Cathy Yardley makes below about questioning the source of our reluctance, because the solutions will vary accordingly. It’s heartening to hear you’re already finding community. IMHO, the expectations feel less daunting with a tribe at your back.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows.
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate diCamillo, illustrated by Bagram Ibatoulline.
I love ‘quiet’ books and these are two examples that feed the spirit – Edward Tulane is a book for age 5-95, in which the illustrations are an integral part of the reading experience.
Thanks, Juliet. Will check these out.
And I did confuse the spirit-feeding bit and the quiet bit, didn’t I? Because they are not necessarily one and the same.
First off, Jan, What a great post. I agree that we need quiet books to keep us grounded in life, books that slow us down a bit.
And Juliet, I loved Edward Tulane! That is a perfect example.
On marketing, I think the best promoting happens in ways just like this, as others have already mentioned, finding readers with tastes similar to mine and following their lead. I hadn’t heard of Murphy’s book until today, but you can be sure it’s on my TBR list now.
i love these kind of books. they very “quiet” like me. they are my deep representation.
Thanks
I guess I like “loud” genre books. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the writing of quiet books, but it’s not what I gravitate towards.
I like the comparison, and question, of quiet writing vs. loud promotion — it does seem incongruous for a lovely, soft-spoken piece of prose to be hawking itself like a carnival barker. But I can’t help but feel like if we say “don’t worry, don’t promote” it’s like telling a shy kid to never leave home because the outside world is too harsh.
Promotion doesn’t need to be a circus. Sometimes I think a modulated assertion of “I’m here, and I think you might like this,” is more effective than people realize.
The Call sounds like a lovely book, Jan – one that I will have to read. My favorite ‘quiet’ book is Pride and Prejudice. There are no murders, no gunfights, certainly not a car crash in sight — but every winter I find I need to reread it.
Did you see @Deborah’s post below? Because you need to. :)
I’ve been spending some of my time on Twitter talking about books I’ve read, because I agree there is too much focus on just a few books. The ones that have the marketing budgets are the ones everyone hears about, and the rest have to find a place on their own. Book talk is a small way to help those others find that place.
When other people take the trouble to mention a specific book, it influences me. Last week someone tweeted they wanted to reread CHARLES AND EMMA, because it was their favorite nonfiction YA book. That intrigued me enough to look it up and request it from the library.
And for a quiet children’s book, I’ll list NOAH BARLEYWATER RUNS AWAY by John Boyne. It’s a fairytale, and there’s no end of the world scenerio, which sometimes can be quite nice to read.
What I am finding in the world today is that there are so many wonderful books out there, I can’t possibly read them all. I love The Call, but also find a lot of meaning in books that are not necessarily our exact reality. Call it Literary Fantasy if you will, but I believe there to be many lessons about life and struggles in many novels of varying genres.
I also find it difficult to promote myself. The constant warning–no links here–is something we find necessary but thwarting at the same time. It has become this fine line where, even when all I wanted was to share a link about finding reviewers, I was chastised because it my book that day being reviewed. There is no easy answer, but I would be more than willing to host and share information about any author from WU whose work resonates with me.
The Sky Is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson. It’s a beautifully written contemporary YA. Very quiet and contained, in terms of its scope — it’s just one girl dealing with the unexpected death of her sister. But it’s so human, so fun, so sad, so powerful.
I will say that I LOVE a good “quiet” book. My problem comes when authors try to pass off their books as “quiet” when the reality is that their books are just boring. :P
I don’t know if it has to be a quiet book or a quiet writer to bring me back to my deepest inspiration for why I read (and want to write). Over the summer when I was unwell for several weeks and didn’t have the energy to read or write very much, I watched youtube videos of some of my favourite authors, J.K. Rowling being one. What struck me repeatedly as I watched her interviews was her belief in herself to tell a story and her belief in the story that chose her (Harry Potter). I was inspired to ask myself: what kind of stories I want to write. realized that the yearning you mention, and that I always feel inside myself, was the desire to bear witness to the anticipation and expectation I had of books when I was young. That they would transport me to another world, and give me new friends in characters who, no matter how flawed, in the end, showed their true colours of integrity, loyalty and optimism that a better world was possible. A world in which, no matter what happened, in the end, good prevailed over evil. For such is the power of the human spirit (whether portrayed through fantastical characters or human beings) that the hope of a better possibility is not just that–hope–but something we are actually meant to strive for. It may be one reason most of the dystopian stories currently dominating the market do not appeal to me as much as Harry Potter which, in the words of J.K. Rowling, is “a long plea for tolerance, and the power of Love.”
I, too, find those qualities of “integrity, loyalty and optimism” attractive. One of my all-time favorite books with that sort of worldview, which also happens to be a childhood favorite, is ANNE OF GREEN GABLES.
I wonder what L.M. Montgomery would think of our present marketplace. :)
Beautiful post, Jan, and such a worthwhile mission. I do love my thrillers, murder mysteries, world-building sci-fi and epic fantasy, but I am never so satisfied and filled with emotion as I am when I read a ‘quiet’ book, as I shall now be calling them in my mind.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbery
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, Alan Bradley
Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, Helen Simonson
The Guernsey Potato Peel Society, Mary Ann Shaffer
Evenfall, Liz Michalski
Home to Woefield, Susan Juby
The Art of Racing in the Rain, Garth Stein
These are only the most recent that come to mind! They made me laugh out loud in some instances or left me with tears running down my cheeks. And all stayed with me. Several are/were bestsellers (and I can only hope the others will be) but perhaps this is the realization of our collective hopes – that quiet books can still find a very solid place at the top of the pile. If they are good they will find their audience and that audience will make sure they do much of the author’s promotion for them. They may be hard to characterize, but someone loved them enough to take them to the public in the first place, and the public responded.
I’m very much looking forward to reading The Call and adding it to my list.
Morning, all. I’m enjoying your comments very much and will be back with specific thoughts later; I have to run.
However, to address a few issues I didn’t put into the piece: My fiction is solidly commercial, as is the majority of what I read. I don’t mean to disparage any genre, but in an odd way, because I don’t write this kind of book, I thought I might be a good facilitator to pool resources.
Along the resource-pooling lines, please do share links to blogs, twitter accounts, etc. But this is about connection, not sales, so no direct-to-purchase links, please.
I so agree. Sad to think those of us who are quiet in thought and in writing are lost in the din of trends and self-promotion. I thought we left the high school popularity contest behind, but social media seems to feed on the same energy.
[…] first was a comment from the great fellow, Vaughn. This is only part of his comment on a blog post by Jan O’hara at Writer Unboxed. We are told to point the spotlight at ourselves. I think many […]
Thank you.
I write middle grade historical verse novels, books will little flash or broad commercial appeal. For children’s authors of literary or quiet fiction, the hope is the school and library market will take an interest in what we have to say.
One of the wonderful things about the kidlit world is a willingness to support one another. I’m co-president of the Class of 2k12, a group of 20 middle-grade and young adult novelists debuting next year. Banding together with a group like this lets those quieter books get a bigger push and exposes readers to titles they might not have heard of or considered reading beforehand.
One book that profoundly moved, disturbed, and challenged me was Endo’s Silence, about a Jesuit missionary in seventeenth-century Japan.
Beth Kephart has beautiful things to say about creating and reading contemplative books.
Thank you for the references.
And I love the idea of a small band of quiet writers in the same genre. I’ve seen this done with a few friends in YA. It seems effective while allowing for genuineness and synchronicity.
Thankyou Jan for an excellent perspective.
Loved your description:
**On days when my biggest accomplishment is to use my inside voice with my teenagers; in weeks when the most deluded person couldn’t describe me as possessing “interestingness,” these are the books that return me to myself. **
Oh my, I so relate.
I came here via Jane Friedman and I will tweet it myself.
warmly,
dawn
When I find such a gem, I consider myself to be so lucky.
A.S. Byatt’s book, Possession,was such a “quiet” read.
For writing, Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones still inspires me, 2 pages at a time.
There has been a real shift in fiction the past few years. One of the things that originally drew me to the selections Oprah Winfrey was promoting on her show was that she selected a lot of quiet books. They were the books that weren’t necessarily going to have a huge movie franchise made, and she gave them a voice. Then we saw a shift to paranormal and YA, and suddenly, everything is about action all the time, and the resurgence of Tolkien with the movie franchise brought epic fantasy back, and the quiet books got lost in the shuffle again.
I look at the deals every day on PM, and I don’t see very many books being sold that tell those stories. I love escaping the real world from time to time, but what I love most about reading (and writing) is the creation of characters. I want to see ordinary people confronting something and facing it, and it doesn’t have to be werewolves or vampires or the end of the world.
What has always drawn me to the quiet novels is the idea that they take something that could happen to anyone at any time and then closely examine the human reaction to that. There’s a beauty in that which goes beyond whether or not there’s an opportunity to sell it for tween party napkins or a holiday weekend blockbuster later on, but it’s seeming less and less like the publishers and/or agents are leaving the door open for this examination of humanity in the quest for The Next Big Thing.
I love the big novels as much as the next person. But I’m obsessed by the ones that take the time to create a character who feels so real I miss that person when I reach the last page. You don’t usually find that type of reality outside the quiet novels.
I recently watched ‘Gods and Men’, the french movie that followed the fate of hapless monks running a monastery in Algeria. For long stretches of clips we watched a man’s face as he drank a glass of wine, looked out on a lake, attended a social gathering…
Yeah, not too exciting. Reflective novels and character studies only work if the author remembers there is a point to be made. These stories fall flat quickly if it’s all grief and no outcome. The current edition of Writer’s Digest has a great article on this right now. I remember it mentioned the story of Job- which didn’t work when removed from the context of ‘God testing a man’s faith’, i.e., there has to be a reason for the mc to suffer.
These stories, when done well, are far from quiet, I think
As someone who works in the publishing industry, it drives me CRAZY TOWN that quiet = undesirable. It’s such a disservice to readers. And. . so many books that start out as “quiet” turn out to be loud when they are wildly successful. So, thanks for this.
Oh dear. Crazytown isn’t a good place for anyone. ;)
Seriously, you are in a hard place. I know there are a ton of agents, editors, and promoters who are torn between what they love and what they believe can be sold.
I have no quick solutions, but thank you for what you do.
I hope my WIP will be one of these ‘quiet’ books. If you’re looking for a deep, quiet read, try Blackbird House, by Alice Hoffman. I just finished it a couple of weeks ago, and reading the post above, it sprang into my mind.
I write quiet books, though for years I wondered why I couldn’t come up with more “big concept” ideas. But now I realize why: that’s not who I am. I don’t write “big concept” – I write quiet. To thine own self be true.
Thank you, Jan, for this post. I am glad to have others like me in this crazy writing business.
Yep. I’m with you. My first book to go out on submission (a MG novel about friendship) was rejected for being “too quiet.” I tried to think of ways to add a car chase and fart jokes but ultimately set it aside. I’ll wait for the market to change. The pendulum always swings, right?
hehehe
Thanks for a thoughtful post expressing so many thoughts I have had also. When I first thought of writing a memoir, I thought my life was too quiet to be interesting. But I’ve decided that describing how a childhood was happy can be as fascinating as how terrible it was.
I like quiet when I can feel passion, strength, and joy underneath it.
I am both a lover and a writer (not yet published) of quiet books. I deeply sympathize with everything said in this post, but unfortunately have no marketing wisdom to offer. I will say that personally, I almost always find out about such books through recommendations from friends, and I think that kind of private word-of-mouth will probably always be the best kind of publicity for quiet books. They tend to have a “long tail” rather than making a big splash up front.
That makes sense to me, and one wonderful thing about the digital age is that the long tail is…longer. (Aren’t I eloquent this morning?) If we can get the tools to connect to people with similar tastes, that’s going to be very helpful.
I think the reason so many people love Elizabeth Berg is because her novels are fairly quiet, yet when you plop yourself down in the middle of them, you are nodding and saying, “Yes. Uh huh. That’s true.” I just feel like she’s reading my mind about mothering and friending and aging and changing.
Yet, even in her quiet storytelling way, there’s usually a fairly high concept that can be pulled out, so people are able to tell their friends, “It’s about a woman whose husband dies and she moves to a new town and reinvents herself, but he keeps showing up as a ghost.” (Guesses on that one?)
Or … “A woman’s friends surround her as she prepares to die.” (Talk Before Sleep, anyone?_
Also felt Olive Kittredge was very quiet, as well as Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, yet look how well they’ve done.
Yes, the nodding is an excellent sign. I’ve found that myself. :)
Your second point about the story elements, though, is interesting, and taps into @Sharon Bially’s question about whether THE CALL would qualify as quiet.
I don’t know the industry terms for it, but in the books I find most healing, the stakes are really about the character’s internal growth, and their brilliance is in the texture. The blurb can do these authors a disservice in that the reader signs on for one experience but gets another.
I’m this quiet – ………………………….. -but I’m working on being louder.
Ha ha. You’re in good company here. :)
Quiet or loud, it’s all about the story. I love a good story and try not to judge a book based on whether it’s wildly successful, commercial, or quiet. That being said, the popular books will always get more attention which makes it harder and harder to find the beautiful quiet books through the cacophony. Jan, I love your idea of helping those beautiful books find a voice here at WU by sharing with one another. I’ve never heard of THE CALL, but because you’ve recommended it, I’m ready to check it out. Thank you!
Absolutely! Thank you for posting! I’m starting my own quiet retreat from the noisy world. And if my books don’t get the attention because I’m not out there screaming, well, so be it. But I believe that sooner or later, things will change and the quiet will win out… in the meantime, my focus is on my writing, my artistic nature, my true self. It’s the road to sanity – lol!
I’ve just discovered Megan Chance and I love her writing – her stories touch me in so many ways, I’m drained afterwards but I love that. Another favorite is Sandi Kahn Shelton now writing as Maddie Dawson – very powerful stories I can relate to.
Jan, I can always count on you to introduce me to extraordinary books and I’m so very appreciative of all the other commenters on this blog who shared book titles and author names.
Often the quiet books are the ones that touch the soul deepest and cause us to reflect on what is important in our individual life and what is not important. THE CALL sounds like just this kind of book. Thank you so much for introducing me to another new-to-me author.
So glad you wrote about this, Jan. It’s a topic very close to my heart, since my novel, Veronica’s Nap, tends toward quiet, and that’s also the type of story I like to read. In fact, Ive been frustrated over the past few years by the lack of them either on the market, or getting the attention they deserve.
I blogged about this at: https://veronicas-nap.com/backstory/nobody-dies/
That said, I do get the feeling that having a death or something like it in the story helps it sound loud enough to get more attention than if there was nothing at all of that sort. I see that The Call includes “a series of events which threaten [the MC’s] income, health, and as a consequence of a hunting accident, the life of his son.” Hmmm. Loud elements, but perhaps not loud enough nowadays as the standards of loudness get, well, louder.
Two of my favorite “quieter” books are:
— The Elegance of the Hedgehog (By Muriel Barbery of France — although somebody does wind up dying and I wondered why when I read that part!)
— Olive Kitteridge
There are others whose titles are slipping my mind! (Too quiet?)
And of course, there’s my own novel, Veronica’s Nap. :-)
Lots of conversation about loudnes, quietness and other publishing / writing trends on the blog by the same name…
Sharon, if you see my note to Julie above, oddly, explaining those plot elements feels like a disservice to this book. That might just be because of the heart of this reader, but it’s really more about spiritual risk than external conflict. And I find the near prose-poem execution to be brilliant.
Guys, I am so appreciative of the depth of your comments and the resources you’ve included. (Not to mention the book names.)
As befitting the topic, it seems appropriate that I listen to what you have to say rather than flap my fingers some more, but I’ll read every comment.
I loved this post, Jan, and wanted to add my all-time favorite quiet book to the list: _The Feast of Love_ by Charles Baxter. It was made into a fairly dreadful movie, but please forget about that. This book is so good and it makes me cry every time I reread it–and I’m not a crier.
Jan, thanks for this post. I love “quiet” books. The genre I read most and write is “family saga.” Authors like Anne Tyler, Alice McDermott, and Alice Munro are especially adept at capturing the quiet tensions that lurk under the surface in family relationships. Wallace Stegner is another author who comes to mind when discussng quiet novels. These types of books present a Catch 22 for authors–they are difficult to write well and they are not what publishers want in this era.
I agree with Heather—it’s all about the story. I just finished THE LITTLE BRIDE by Anna Solomon. I’d say it’s a quiet book, but the story kept my attention. I think without a forward moving story and some tension (doesn’t have to be explosions . . . in fact, I prefer it’s not) it would be hard for me to stay interested. A deep character study isn’t enough to carry 300+ pages. I’ve learned that the hard way as a writer as well.
Great post. Quiet can be good. I haven’t read Mr. Pettigrew yet, but I loved the Guernsey Literary book. My recently published novel I think falls into the quiet. It was hard to pitch as the story is about people in hard times — the Great Depression — and how the different personalities dealt with it. Not all that jazzy, but still a good read.
I so adore this most fabulous post, Jan — and the comments are to be savored to the last crumb. I am a quiet writer who wasn’t actually aware of such until my agent and editors who perused my early manuscripts alerted me to the fact– but didn’t necessarily explain what this meant. I honestly didn’t get it for the longest time and assumed that what they were suggesting were LOUD inclusions in my stories — car crashes, alien invasion, parades and fireworks.
It took some time to figure out precisely what they were getting at, but sadly, I still know many writers and readers who assume that Quiet is a catch phase for all books assuredly boring.
Certainly, Quiet is only boring if it has no point. If the story is just a story without meat and potatoes and richness and depth it is not Quiet, it is dead.
My novel The Secret of Lies is quiet and so is nearly everything I love to read. My agent recently recommended Major Pettigrews Last Stand, so that’s my next read once I finish The Third Angel by Alice Hoffman (Beautifully Quiet.)
Thank you, Jan. Thank you, everyone for your comments here. Love this like crazy :-)
The comments are fab, aren’t they? Honestly, I’m verklempt.
And now I’d love to see a quiet, healing book about alien invasions, because it certainly could be done. :)
Best of luck to you, and to all who toil so that quiet, healing books are published, found, and cherished.
Oh, there are so many quiet books I’ve read. Some from well-known writers like Elizabeth Berg, but as well, there are writers who are not well-known. Like I see Barbara’s book up there “The Secret of Lies” – a wonderful “quiet” book. I read a self pub’d book that has been over-looked “The Perfume Factory” by Alex Austin.
Dot Jackson’s “Refuge.”
So many.
On the ‘writers who find it hard to shout out’ – oh do I relate. Any time I say anything about my books I feel uncomfortable. I truly do wish I could “just write” – and connect with my readers of course – but all the “touting” just sets my teeth on edge and I just don’t do much of it. I’m sure that affects sales. I’m sure if I went out and really shouted about my work, it’d garner more attention, but, *sigh* – I don’t know. I just find it difficult to do.
Great post and thanks to everybody for their recommendations. Lots to check out.
I write ‘quiet books’ — mostly short story collections and novellas which are set in Ireland mostly. I have found these books very hard to pitch to agents and have ended up self publishing them. To my great surprise, New York Times Book Review and The Observer in the UK picked one of them for review and gave it very good write ups. That was a boost to keep going…though I’m still without and agent…I feel it’s important to keep at the mill wheel grinding.
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Thank you – this is just what I needed to read today! Like eddiestack, I write quiet books and I always struggle to describe them in any traditional genre description. That’s part of the reason I decided to go the indie route, because my series doesn’t fit into any particular niche — but I’m really liking the quiet book description. Thank you for posting this and letting us “quiet book” authors know we’re not alone!
Literary agents keep saying this about my novel. I have had so many full manuscript requests and everyone seems to concur. Excellent writing – but novel is just a bit too quiet for the current market…
– Rena
Jan – as usual you are eloquently asking the questions, and I don’t have any answers. I love the quiet books, but how to help them out in the flooded market place? not a clue. except maybe this “word of mouth” help.
Great post. I’m one of those writers – and I think it’s going to be a long game.
The ‘quieter’ books I tend to read are the classics, and books from the early to mid 20th century. I love reading them, but I know that I’m unlikely to get my work picked up if I write in those styles.
A new favourite of mine: North & South by Elizabeth Gaskell (1855, thus delightfully available free on project gutenberg). It’s a book that covers both the realities of northern English manufacturing towns and interweaves it with a courtship tale — while the highs are few (industrial England was pretty gloomy, lots of poverty, etc.) and the lows can be low (death, poverty, death, etc.), I consider the book to be quite beautiful. But even the plot and the subject matter would need to be far more highly dramatised to make it as a romantic genre novel today.
Other favourites:
She Came to Stay, by Simone de Beauvoir
Sophie’s World, by Jostein Gaarder
The Seed and the Sower, by Sir Laurens van der Post
Recently I loved OKAY FOR NOW by Gary D. Schmidt. A powerful quiet middle grade book that I’m afraid will get overlooked.
I so appreciate this post (I replied to you on Twitter about this, by the way). Before I self-pubbed, most of the publishing houses that rejected me told me that the book was quiet. It was frustrating, to say the least, because as much as I love “louder” books with high concepts, I also love ones that might be more subtle, or really explore character.
I can also be very extroverted in conversation, but yet quite shy when it comes to self-promotion. I’m a good Midwesterner in that way, I guess. I’m trying to break out of that but it just felt really good to read this and see so much of what I was/am feeling reflected back, both in the post and in the comments.
Thank you!
I had no idea this post would resonate for so many of you. Thanks for your comments.
Great post (and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to comment, travel and recovery and all).
I just think we live in a “loud” time in a culture & society where our attention is frequently fractured. Getting people to slow down and listen to quieter works can be a challenge. But I think such books encourage the same sort of mindfulness that we need now more than ever.