Risky Business?
By Sarah Callender | February 12, 2014 |
You know what I like to do for fun? Sit around and obsessively analyze the thoughtful, detailed, eloquent rejections my agent and I have received from editors. It reminds me of when I was sixteen and I’d try to figure out what my boyfriend really meant when he said, “I love you so much that I want to carve your name in my leg.”
But this post isn’t about my high school beau. Nor is this post about me and my rejection. This post is about what my pile of thoughtful, detailed, eloquent rejection letters reveals about traditional publishing.
The nice thing about receiving loads of rejections is that it’s easy to notice the trends! (I say this when I’m wearing my Brightside Betty underoos.) But it’s true. When my agent and I can see feedback trends, we can learn from them. We have noticed two biggies. First, some editors don’t quite connect with the narrator of Book #1 or the protag of Book #2. That’s OK. They are both a bit quirky. Not everyone can be everyone’s cuppa tea.
The other bit of recurring feedback is more interesting: several editors believe I have written genre-straddlers. Stories with audience-identity issues. Books that, if there were still bookstores in the world, would end up on the shelf called, “Transgenre’d.” Even when an editor falls in love with a story, if she doesn’t know what to do with it, she won’t buy it. She can’t buy it.
Here. I’ll show you some snippets to illustrate the editors’ concerns:
As much as I admire the originality and daring of the narration, I confess I don’t totally have a vision for the best way to publish the book. As we discussed on the phone, the book has elements that are a little YA and then elements that are definitely not.
And another:
Sarah Callend[e]r’s warmth as a writer illuminated [the book’s narrator] and her adventures. I did have some worries; that the book fell into a gray area between adult and YA.
Still another:
While reading, I couldn’t help but be reminded of E.L. Konigsburg and Madeleine L’Engle (excellent authors to be reminded of while reading), but it also gave me pause as to how best to position and publish this book.
Such encouraging compliments. Still, publishing is a business. If editors can’t identify the target audience, how do they market it?
With the feedback on Book #1, I worked very hard to make Book #2 fit into a single, identifiable genre-box. But perhaps the stories I have in me, the only stories I want to tell, aren’t so easily boxed?
I’ll show you:
Sarah is such an interesting writer—there are definitely shades of A.S. King and Gary Schmidt about her. I loved how original this character was, and all the different layers she brought together. Ultimately, though, I’m afraid I still have the concern about the audience and voice… [Protag’s] voice really doesn’t feel 100% middle grade to me, and the ending isn’t appropriate for middle grade, but he also doesn’t have a clear teenage voice.
Ooo, and another:
And while much of his internal narration felt decidedly middle grade, Ian’s dialogue and his thoughts about [his teacher] seemed much more YA. So, I’m afraid this novel would fall into the impossible gap between age groups for us. I see it as having more potential as a middle grade, but making it fit into that category would require significant revision of Ian’s character.
Finally (before you fall asleep):
This also strikes me as a novel that has a few trappings of YA but is really at heart a middle grade story—the things [the narrator’s] dealing with are adolescent concerns rather than teen ones.
Have you ever tried to gift wrap an odd-shaped thing–a construction cone, an orchid, a soccer ball? It’s a pain in the neck. I think that’s what editors must feel about my stories: they are just too hard to box and wrap.
Does this means traditional publishing is risk averse?
It’s certainly temping to think that’s the case, to say that publishing doesn’t recognize true art when it sees it. But I think it’s truer to say that publishers are not able to take big risks. They may want to, but they are not allowed.
(Or, maybe my books just aren’t good enough to publish.)
This New York magazine article illustrates the changes in publishing over the past five decades, explaining why the consolidation of the numerous, small (and nimble) publishers of the 1960’s created huge publishers that were forced to focus only on acquiring blockbusters. As the article states, “You can’t win big if you don’t bet big.”
Big publishers do, certainly, bet big. They are willing to take risks when the reward is potentially immense. But when you bet big on one book and win, you have to pass up on many smaller risks. Publishers are forced to focus their risks, their dollars, their time and energy, on winning the potential blockbusters, and potential blockbusters are not, generally, transgenre’d books.
(And maybe my books just aren’t good enough to publish!)
No one–not editors or agents, not Oprah or my mom–knows what’s going to be a best seller; the best an “expert” can do is take smart, calculated risks. Sometimes risks pay off (Harry Potter). Other times, it’s Flopzilla (James Frey’s Bright Shiny Morning).
Smart, calculated risks? Enter Sarah Callender. Not only do I have two books with Genre Identity Disorder, but I (the writer) am as risky as my genre-wandering novels. I am totally unpublished. I am a no-name. I have no fancy (or even unfancy) MFA that would suggest commitment and experience and well connected mentors. If I have any post-graduate degree, it’s a PhD in Relentless Slogging, with a Masters in Choosing Really Good Writing Partners Who Help Me Get Better. And a kick-arse agent who believes in my stories. God bless that woman.
(But are my books good enough yet?)
Here are the facts: I am a risk. My books are risks. Traditional publishing feels unable to take risks on little fish. If I am to stay the course with traditional publishing, I must keep improving my craft. I must make my books seem like the smartest, safest risks ever. I must focus not on my rejection but on my tenacity. I must write a story that blows the socks so far off editors’ feet that it would be a risk not to publish my work.
I must write the stories that are in me–the construction cone, the orchid, the soccer ball of a story–that yeah, are a pain in the neck to wrap, but are well worth the time and effort.
Your turn! Have you seen or experienced traditional publishing’s aversion to risk? Or, do you see that traditional publishing still takes plenty of risks? How has your experience impacted or altered the direction of your journey to publication? If you write unwrappable, unboxable stories, how have they been received? Please share!
Photo courtesy of Flickr’s KagedFish.
A Middle Grade novelist (and Middle School English teacher), Sarah Callender lives in Seattle with her family. Because Sarah dislikes cleaning anything that will just get messy again, she tidies the house and weeds the yard only when absolutely necessary. This allows her time to focus on her true–and somewhat fraught–passions: writing, Abe Lincoln, and Tony’s Chocolonely chocolate bars. Equally passionate about mental health advocacy, Sarah is a member of The Stability Network. Sarah’s first novel, LUCY IN BETWEEN, will be published by Margaret Ferguson Books/Holiday House in 2026.
Sarah, I feel your pain. In a perfect world editors would evaluate manuscripts based solely on the quality of the writing and the strength of the story, but that’s not going to happen. I understand the market-driven prism through which editors read manuscripts. Publishing is a business, but many of my favorite writers operate in unpopular or undefinable genres. Look at Jennifer Eagan’s Pulitzer Prize-winning book, A Visit From the Goon Squad. Try to pigeonhole that excellent book into a marketable genre. Yet some publisher saw the value of it and the brilliance of Eagan’s writing. I applaud you for writing what is inside you and what moves you. I approach my writing in the same way. Kudos to you for a candid and thoughtful post.
Thanks, CG. My sister is a musician, and the music she makes is not very mainstream. I used to wonder why she just didn’t “shift” her songs just a touch, so that they’d be accessible to a wider population.
And then I started writing seriously, and I realized, Oh, you just can’t “shift” your music or stories or art into something that they aren’t. Kudos to YOU for staying your course. :)
You suggest traditional publishers reject your work based on an uncertain market. You have “loads of rejections”. You get good feedback on the quality of your writing, have an agent that believes in your work and have two completed novels and a WIP.
Why don’t you self-publish? Wouldn’t this help answer the real question…are there readers that will appreciate your stories? Is there a downside I’m overlooking? What is the risk?
Best of luck and hoping your work finds readers!
Good questions, Tom. The main reason I’m not ready to self pub is because I’m lousy at business stuff. It doesn’t interest me, and at this point, I would have to educate myself about a whole lot of stuff.
To me, it also seems lonely. I love having my agent as a teammate . . . makes things seem not as scary or overwhelming.
But yes, it’s something I play with in my head often! I’m working on Book #3 now so we’ll see what happens after that. :)
Thanks so much for your comment!
Sarah, I’m going to pull one sentence out of your wonderful, honest post.
“I must make my books seem like the smartest, safest risks ever.”
That, in my opinion, is what is wrong with publishing houses right now. It is NOT what is wrong with your writing, it is what is wrong with publishing. Even though I am not traditionally published, and thereby know squat about the gauntlet you are running, I urge you to continue to write smartly, but to hell with safety.
Yes, Jill. I totally agree! I don’t want my books to BE the safest risks ever; I want them to SEEM like they are the safest risks ever . . . as in, “This book is so weird and wonderful that it’s gotta be a money-maker.”
Ah yes, it all comes back to money (in the eyes of the publishers).
Thanks for your comment. It’s clearly resonating with people!
:)
I also feel your pain. Sarah. Publishers don’t want to take a risk on me either. Fortunately, this is a time when it is possible to prove there is a market for your work. I’ve gone through a lit of soul searching about it, but now that a barrier has been removed, I have to go out there and try it. It’s maddening, but the publishing world has changes and I for one, am grateful for the opportunity.
Thanks so much, Piper. I appreciate the encouragement and the inspiration! There is such freedom in all the different routes to publication. Right now, I’m a little paralyzed and am staying the course, but it’s great to have other possibilities waiting in the wings.
Best of luck to you!
:)
Great post, Sarah. First, how much do I love the Brightside Betty underoos? Need to get me a pair. ;-)
I have to say this really spoke to me on two levels–the general issue of “transgenre,” which speaks to the kinds of books I often love to read and (I suspect) are the sorts I am likely to write as well. I’m currently drafting a book that in theory should be historical fiction/women’s fiction, but how well it will fit that category when I am done is, well, TBA. Trying to focus on the story and worry about that in the later revision stages.
But the comments you are receiving about the not-quite-MG-not-quite-YA book resonated even more. My other novel, which is much closer to submission, may occupy that same weird gap. To me it’s solidly MG, as the characters are just barely adolescent. I really do think there are readers out there who want challenging stories in that middle space and aren’t ready to immerse themselves in teen experiences…but are they a fairly small audience? (Hope not, even as I am a realist!)
Which is a very roundabout way of saying, yes–tricky! Artistically, I think we have to keep writing the “hard to wrap” stories, and I’m glad you’re determined to keep at it. Hope you get more of a nibble from the editors soon!
Hi Alisha. What great encouragement. Thank you! And yes, I wish someone really would manufacture some BSB underoos, too! :)
Thanks for this post. It really resonates with me. ((I just discovered this site and I’m already inspired.)
I’ve written two novels and have a third mired in limbo. The first is a murder mystery plain and simple. The second is sort of a thriller, sort of science fiction, even sort of a western. It also has a lost civilization in it. I’ve already run into the genre-blending/bending problem just trying to find beta readers. I can’t understand it, because I love to read books like this, especially if they have lost civilizations in them. If Michael Crichton could do it, surely I can. And my story is actually better than many of his, because it has plausible, fully drawn female characters. I don’t see why it can’t sit on his shelf in the bookstore along with Douglas Preston and Paul Sussman. Should I be saying this in my query letters?
As to the novel mired in limbo, I can only describe it as “autobiographical fantasy.” On that ground alone it’s probably unpublishable. I also think of it as YA, but the character is only 11, right on the cusp of puberty. There’s a sort of parallel universe. There are evil uranium miners. On top of that, it’s a period piece, set in the early 1960s in Idaho, the state so obscure it’s still confused with Iowa.
So it’s probably too much of a marketing challenge for an editor to take on. But I really want to finish it and publish it, partly because I want to capture the time and place, the landscape, the creepiness of the Cold War nuclear establishment out in the high desert, what it was like to be a little girl in that milieu, and so on. In fact, I think these disparate elements, including the fantasy one, are *necessary* to tell the truth of that time and place and that little girl. And I would so much rather read a book that blends genres than one that hits all the putative necessary elements of one genre – colors inside the lines, so to speak – but has no emotional power. It can be done, and I say if genre-blending is what holds your truth to the light, blend away! So in posting this, I guess I’ve talked myself into pioneering the emerging genre of autobiographical fantasy. Thanks!!
Sarah, my novels are genre-wandering too. Actually genre-blurring (supernatural but not true horror; mysterious but not mystery). Honestly, when we speak of risk, I think the author takes all the risks.
We commit to this career and work very hard to produce the best writing we can and then we persist and persist and try to beat the odds to get it out there and read. We invest everything of ourselves, and our money, to produce a professional book. Jill said it clearly, to hell with safety. Are we writing for the editors and publishers or the readers? Winning big and blockbuster novels are pretty much an ego stroke. Do we crave that? Is that why we are doing this? I self-pubbed on Kindle and a small indie publisher picked up my novels for soft cover. Small rewards are still rewards. I say follow your heart, be smart, keep the perspective.
Man, that is so true, Paula. Thanks for these reminders! A few months ago I reminded myself that my place in the world is not dependent on getting a book published by one of the Biggie publishers. It’s so good for us all to remember whose opinions matter . . . anyone who’s not on the list of Mattering People? Who cares!
Thanks, Paula. I always love your comments.
The answer to the ‘are my books good enough yet’ question that keeps edging in to your lovely analysis of risk-aversity in traditional publishers–Yes. It’s good enough. Your agent loves your work and despite their rejections, numerous editors have as well. I probably would too.
The question that is hiding in this piece is not about the goodness of your writing, it’s ‘should I sit with the same clique every day in the cafeteria?’ Yep. High School. Just substitute write for sit, genre for clique, and office for cafeteria.
I think, that instead of minimizing risks and choosing which pre-existing genre you should grace with your writerly presence, you should Keep the faith. Be yourself. Write yourself. It is a Brave New World of publishing out there and nonconformists have more options. (Think about the recent creation of the NA genre.) Maybe if you are between MG and YA, you should create a new term, one that fits. How about MY — Mature Youth? Or TTW for terrible tween?
If you feel you have become too ‘risky’ in your genre-bending writing, take up luge. It will put it all back in perspective. Hugs.
I adore you. And I will never try luge-ing. Thank you for sharing your wisdom!
Sarah-
Transgenre’d? Genre Identity Disorder? Love those.
Regarding your project #1…
Your dilemma (YA or other?) is a familiar one. Comes up a lot. I don’t think, though, it begs the question of whether publishers are risk adverse. (Are you kidding? They are.) I think it poses more interesting and useful questions.
But first, publishers: If a particular editor cannot see a way to effectively get your novel in front of its audience, well, I think that editor is doing you a favor by admitting they’re not the right editor for the project.
But what if *all* editors are saying that? Hmm. That is worth some thought. I’d start with this: Harper Lee and Elizabeth Berg did not have this problem. They wrote about young protagonists and yet were/are read by young and older alike.
So what gives? Did they get a special dispensation from the Publishing Pope? Er, no. (If you meet that dude, let me know. I have some petitions for him.) What they did do is craft novels in a way which, ultimately, finally, did not limit their audience.
How? My analysis: their fiction was aimed primarily at adults, especially thematically, even while employing narrative voices and the POV of kids.
At the same time there are “children’s” authors who are read as much by adults. Madeleine L’Engle and JK Rowling are two obvious examples. Speculative fiction tends to erase audience demographics, true, but I think there’s more to it.
So, to sum: Certain adult themes can be effective from the POV of kids. Kids’ narrative voices can also tell universal stories that adults enjoy. In both instances the shading of a given novel leads to its first publication for one audience or the other. Later, readers of all ages find them.
What does this mean for Sarah Callendar? Looking hard at the editor’s comments on project #1, it seems likely to me that they’re telling you something true: The novel is good but divided in style and intent, making it tough to point the way to which category is best for launching it.
In other words, you may simply have been doing two different things in the same book, neither wrong, but in combination making the best path unclear. The melding may not have melded, if you see what I mean. (I’m only going on what you have posted here, obviously.)
As an agent who’s run up against the heartache of Genre Identity Disorder plenty of times, I can say that for me it’s not useful to blame it on risk adversity. More useful is to look at how a good novel can also become one of those that no longer causes editors to wonder what to do with it.
My take. Now the mysterious pronouncements of teen boyfriends…those are genuine mysteries. I could air a few about teen girlfriends too, but perhaps another time.
Sorry, Sarah, that should be “Callender”.
Another example of a book — this one a series — with a young narrator/protagonist but written mainly for an adult audience is the Flavia de Luce mystery series by Alan Bradley. Young teen girls do seem to enjoy them, but not, I think, as much as their mothers do.
Such great thoughts, Donald. Thank you for taking the time to assess and share your ideas.
You are absolutely right, in that it probably is divided in style. I always intended Book #1 to be for adults, but as it was my first book ever, I am sure my novice-ness is apparent (in other words, maybe my intent is also ambiguous).
Learning. Always learning.
Thank you!
Sarah, I feel your pain, and have definitely got some bruises from slamming into genre-enforced barriers.
But if you think you have it bad, do you have any idea how hard it is to find Brightside Betty underoos in my size?
Seriously, though – thanks for raising these very real concerns. Hang in there, and good luck!
You = Funny.
Thanks for the perspective and the empathy, mister!
:)
I say this with all respect to you, since I have never met
you. But this post saddens me. Based on what I’ve read, you give
the impression that your dream is not to create the best stories
you can, and not to touch people, but to bend over backwards and
alter your work until such time as “maybe” some self-appointed
gatekeepers like it enough to pass on to another self-appointed
gatekeeper. You obviously have taken great care of your writing.
You have knowledge of the craft, you practice, you commit to your
stories and you strive to improve them. For this you should be
commended. But if an industry is full of people who can say “what
you do is fantastic, but it won’t make us rich so no thanks”, you
need to ask yourself why it’s important to get your foot in that
door in the first place. The answer may or may not be self
publishing. That’s your call. I personally think it is the answer
in an increasingly out of touch and unresponsive world of agents
and publishers. But if you don’t choose to self-publish and commit
all of this energy to promoting the book you have already written,
I would at least suggest that you focus your efforts on smaller
presses. Lesser known publishers that are traditional and take a
bit longer, but remain at this point committed to finding a product
they can believe in artistically as well as financially. Or you
could take all of the hard work you are obviously willing to commit
to your writing, and think of a more effective way to pitch the
books you already have, if you must. But in the end, I would
absolutely ask yourself, “Is finding a way to make what i have
written safer, and more appealing to an overworked and underpaid,
self-appointed gatekeeper of the public taste really the best way
to serve my creative vision? Is what I am doing sincerely helping
me become a better writer that tells better stories, or is it
merely making me a better gambler, who will do anything for a
chance to sit at the big game table? Would I rather make
adjustments to my writing in order to move readers, or in order to
calm the sort of person that can actually tell me how good I am
while shoving me out the door because I can’t promise to pay for
their children’s college education?”
Gosh, I certainly didn’t mean to suggest that. In fact, I think the exact opposite. I laugh at myself because I clearly don’t know HOW to write a book that makes publishers happy, and I am certainly not going to try. If I did, I have 100% confidence that:
1. the story would feel flat and passionless
2. I would feel like a sell out
3. I would be bored stiff
So no worries, Ty. I can only write the stories that are in me.
:)
I love this post, and I love that your conclusion is to keep writing as best you can, instead of trying to stuff your writing into the template the public wants (or what publishers believe the public wants).
I can sympathize with the publishers, though. Genre is very important because, when customers see a book on the shelf or a thumbnail on Amazon, they don’t see a mystical pink glow that says, “This book is weird and wonderful and you have to read it!” They see the cover art, the title, the accolades and endorsement blurbs from big-name genre authors. Publishers have to buy books that are easy to wrap because the wrapping is the only thing buyers will see, and they have to like the wrapping enough to buy the book.
It’s like, if you go to the grocery store and you’re looking in the snack aisle for crackers, you choose your purchase based on how the box promises the contents will taste. The pictures and descriptions describe salty wheat crackers, honey graham crackers, fancy herbed woven crackers…
And then you see a cracker that’s half dusted with cheesy powder and half dipped in dark chocolate. And you’re like, “What the heck is that? Is that even a cracker? Is it a cookie? My neighbor said these are fantastic, and maybe I’d love them if I tried them, but I don’t know….It’s $3.99 and what if I hate them….” Even if you’re the most brilliant and innovative cracker manufacturer in the world, if people say, “Um, I’m not sure I want to try a chili-powder-and-caramel Wheat Thin,” you’ll have a tough time making sales.
Yes! Such good examples . . . we humans do love our labels. I completely understand publishing’s issue. And that is precisely why I would never want to be a publisher. :)
Thanks so much!
I’m experiencing it now! Having written several mystery\suspense novels (unplublished), I decided to write the “book I’d really love to read,” taking advice from a bunch of other unpublished writers. Apparently, the book I’d like to read falls somewhere between post-apocalyptic (sans zombies) and dystopian. I’ve tried to explain it as futuristic fictional historic, or perhaps pre-Last Days. Knowing I may get blank stares from agents, I push on. Perhaps we can start a new blog for the Genre Identity Disordered. We can probably get government funding.
Yes! I’ll apply for a grant this afternoon. Maybe federal funding AND a support group.
:)
Sarah, I fully enjoy the rueful/mirthful (transgenre’d?) slant you bring to your essays! I straddle genres myself (mainstream/literary) and you have to be careful that that thing you’re straddling isn’t pointy.
If you are committed to traditional publishing, I think Don’s advice to comb for the style issues that take different paths (and to converge those paths) is sound—though obviously not easy. But as others have said here, if you have to do some Procrustean bending to your book to make it a beast it’s not meant to be—well, that’s beastly.
I’m envious of the encouraging (though with a slap) words you’ve received from editors—it sounds like you are so close, but alas, those distances can be deceiving. And it’s so good that you have a smart, supportive agent. Yes, the self-pub stuff and its business overhead can seem so dreary, but at least you can consider it as an option to get that fine voice of yours out in the world.
Hi Tom! I just like the word, Procrustean. I’m going to make that part of my lexicon.
Yes, I love Don’s point . . . certainly gives me food for thought. I may just pass it along to my agent.
Thanks so much for weighing in, and doing it so funnily!
:)
Most of my books stand with one foot firmly in YA and the other in literary/adult. I devoured the post and comments. Might re-think my marketing approach.
Yes, Robyn! Don Maass’ comment really rang true for me!
Happy writing (and straddling!) to you.
:)
Hi Sarah,
What I enjoy about your post today is how you capture the difficult assessment a writer must face when a rejection letter hits on a “Genre Identity Disorder”. (Love that!) For a writer who has poured so much into capturing your story as true as it can be, the difference between making it better and making it salable can sometimes border on blasphemy (after all, Transgenre’d books have rights too). So, how do you know?
I’m facing a similar question. I’ve been fortunate to have a small press who has allowed me to build a humble platform and get some exposure to the publishing process when they published a novella in 2013. However, in taking the next step and writing a novel for them I stepped well outside the boundaries of what they handle and, while my manuscript is being considered (right of first refusal), I’m quite ready to hear that dreaded news you mention.
I like the timing of your post, as Keith’s discussion yesterday was on the related topic of genre-hopping. If I get a kind rejection letter, then I’m back to square one. That would mean it’s time to take some risks and see what other editors think. (First, of course, I’d hire and top-notch freelance editor and spend a long time making it closer to perfect before I begin submissions.)
Yet you raise a great point about needing to be true to your story, even if it straddles multiple genres. If a story’s right, then publishers might be willing to take a gamble. But “right” equates to knowing it will sell, which means defining audience. I can’t get around that – none of us can!
So, I need a starting point, an audience you can be certain will like what they see, and an audience that will not be put off by some of the cross-genre elements. I think this is true for any book. Please that audience and they will sing your praises.
For example, I don’t read children’s books, but I read Harry Potter because adult friends were raving about it, and no doubt those adults picked the books up because one of them wanted to see what their kids were reading (then became as spell-bound as their children). And those adults wouldn’t have picked up the books their kids were reading if their kids weren’t glued to the pages. That, in turn, wouldn’t have happened if Harry Potter wasn’t designed, first and foremost, to draw in kids.
In my opinion, crossing genres is fine, so long as you know who your readers are and can ascertain that they will, indeed, love the book your present to them. Put your finger on that, and you might convince those risk-adverse publishers to throw their chips in.
(And who knows? The process of putting your finger on it can lead to some fun, fun, fun revision!)
Ha! I would have added a couple of extra “fun’s” to your description of the revision process. And I had the same thought after reading Don Maass’ comment.
This writing gig is NOT for wussies. So great that you have found your road to publication. There are MANY roads that lead to the same outcome, and that’s very exciting.
Fun, fun, fun,
:)
Guess it’s fitting that I named my manuscript, “A Thousand Roads”. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I’ll find the right one without having to rule out all 999 wrong ones first! And all the best in your journey, Sarah! Thanks again for a timely and thought-invoking post.
That IS so funny. I should have titled mine, “Seven Figure Book Deal.”
:)
Sarah, I know only a smattering about the industry, so will leave the content of your post to those who know more.
But I want to say (again) that I absolutely love your writing and your wit, and I believe readers all over will feel very lucky when your books finally find their way to the right publisher.
So nice, Julie. Thank you for the very kind words. Means so much!
:)
You’re my hero, Sarah Callender! Totally agree with Julie, above. Can’t wait to read your books. Rock on with your bad self, Wonder Woman.
You are MY hero, Vaughn. I can’t wait to read YOUr books.
:)
Sarah, publishing IS risky! This is why I am not a publisher … I want somebody backing me up. The historical that I need to polish is now solidly YA … I think it has a better chance to be picked up. I once had a little chat with Arthur Levine telling him how much I appreciated a little book, a translation. He said he could do this because of the success of Harry Potter. He could take that risk. The book hasn’t done well, but there are people like me who loved it, whose lives were enriched. This is one of the reasons I do like publishers who take a risk and make it big, so that the little gems can have space on the shelf too.
Yes! That’s such a great example . . . it must be so much fun for publishers to take risks on the “small fish” books. Editors get into the biz because they LOVE books, words, stories. What a joy to say “yes” simply because a book is great, not because it’s a potential blockbuster.
Thanks, Vijaya.
Sarah:
Book number one sounds like New Adult to me.
As for self-publishing, do MG and YA readers read self-published books? I don’t know. I have a 5th grade daughter who primarily reads books from her school library. She also reads books from the public library and ones that we purchase from bookstores.
Congratulations on writing two complete novels that you can be proud of. That is an achievement! Most people never get that far.
Sarah, I definitely see your dilemma. I haven’t started querying yet, but I think I can see my novel falling into a gray area.
What do you do?
I think you should definitely continue to follow your gut and get as much advice as possible. If you believe your story is the way it should be, then leave it! It will find its audience.
Good luck!
Jenny
http://www.blotsandplots.com
This is the line that rang all my bells:
“Publishers are forced to focus their risks, their dollars, their time and energy, on winning the potential blockbusters, and potential blockbusters are not, generally, transgenre’d books.”
It’s true and tough and you have the tenacity you need. Great post, Sarah, as always.
[…] Sarah Callender (Writer Unboxed) with Risky Business? […]
Coming late, Sarah, and I can’t speak to the issues about genre confusion, but I will say that issues around age of audience versus protagonist seem common in my friends who finally find the right combination after a number of books. Keep at ‘er, as I know you will. With your voice and ability, it’s only a matter of the right project at the right time.
Just what I needed to hear right now! Thanks, Sarah! And good luck to you!
[…] On The Web Risky Business – “You know what I like to do for fun? Sit around and obsessively analyze the thoughtful, detailed, eloquent rejections my agent and I have received from editors.” – https://staging-writerunboxed.kinsta.cloud/2014/02/12/risky-business/ […]