“Visionaries on the Decks”: Storytelling
By Porter Anderson (@Porter_Anderson) | September 19, 2014 |
“To Declare Your Story’s Intent”
There are things important to you. You hurt. You know stuff. I don’t. You see things that I cannot…You have everything you need, including the courage to declare your story’s intent.
— Donald Maass, Writing 21st Century Fiction
Not for nothing am I looking forward to the November 3-7 Writer Unboxed “Un-Conference” in bewitching Salem, Massachusetts. The final day, a Friday, as you might know, is given over to our good WU colleague Don Maass, who’s going to stand his 21st Century Fiction concepts on their feet and explicate them in a daylong seminar.
Don Maass
This material, which appears in Chapter 8, is some of the best of the entire book. For me, it’s the heart of what his subtitle describes as “High Impact Techniques for Exceptional Storytelling.”
Your novel definitely is about something, and that something is sharply defined, it’s just that you’re not letting yourself see and commit to it…Take a stand. Decide what’s important, what hurts, what you know that your readers don’t, what it is that people (including your characters) urgently need to see. That’s your missing focus, the refining fire that will turn the ore into steel.
It’s a careful line Maass walks here. Partly an answer to the question of what has become of literary fiction today, 21st Century Fiction insists on, maybe demands, an author’s awareness of what he or she is doing in a book. But it never urges preaching, lecturing, haranguing, or — forgive me — “man-splaining” the work or its mission to the reader.
And this is not only difficult for even the most skilled and exacting of novelists, it turns out. It’s also fiendishly tricky for many publishing-community wonks whose pleasure it is to guess and predict and define and decry where the industry! the industry! is going in its sometimes unseemly stagger through the digital determination of its future.
This, too, is storytelling.
Debates in this community of pundits tend to break out, rash and rash-like. What seemed a productive day spirals down into a sighing scrimmage of comments on a blog post. Here come the opinion-slingers again — God forbid they sit one out — rather sadly advancing a tiny turf warfare that can keep them from seeing new techno land-grabs much like the ones they missed years ago.
Provocations image by Liam Walsh
But once in a great while, the debate turns on itself. The discussion is about the discussion. It can be in such moments that we learn the most.
When it happens, it’s a public edition of the private challenge Maass hands to the author who’s lost his way.
As we stumble into one of these moments in the community’s circular conversation, the digital diaspora of book publishing’s energies is clearer. It’s more worrisome, too, maybe. Clarity does that. In a world of arts gone to mobile devices and a tradition of letters gone to Reply All, obfuscation can be a comfort.
Nevertheless, yesterday, Thursday, just such a moment arrived. While many in the Writer Unboxed community dislike paying attention to the “high-impact storytelling” that goes on as their industry tries to redefine itself, I believe wearing those blinkers is a terrible mistake. I think you need to monitor and engage in the dialog of a field that now expects you to know what’s going on. If you want to be an author regarded as a business-savvy professional, you can do no less. That’s my provocation for you this time.
Three steps
Clay Shirky
(1) The NYU-based Internet technology specialist and writer Clay Shirky had published Amazon, Publishers, and Readers on Medium. His fundamental point is:
[Jeff Bezos] wants to increase access to ebooks in order to make money, of course, just as the publishers want to restrict access in order to make money. Bezos doesn’t love books…but his motivations are producing better outcomes than those of the dominant cartel. If we have to pick between two corporate strategies for making money, the one offering more access is better.
Along the way, however, he had said something else that I think the creative community might catch more readily than will the business folks, emphasis mine:
The surface argument is about price, but the deep argument is about prestige. If Amazon gets its way, saying, “I published a book” will generate no more cultural capital than saying “I spoke into a microphone.”
Mike Shatzkin
(2) The publishing consultant Mike Shatzkin had responded to Shirky in Big publisher bashing again with fictional facts, his main assertion being that “Shirky recounts some very questionable history and employs some selective interpretation” to make his arguments.
Employing a frequent conceptual refrain, Shatzkin basically dismissed Shirky as shirking historical fact in order to hand Amazon the advantage over the publishing establishment:
It is true that Amazon, at least in the current competitive environment, has everything to gain by pushing prices down and everybody else in the publishing world does not. And it is also true that the lower the prices of books are, the more accessible they are to more people. And accessibility is definitely a “good”. Even so, I really resist the Manichaean view that it is “the Amazon way” or “the publishing cartel way”.
Brian O’Leary
(3) The publishing consultant Brian O’Leary then triggered yesterday’s turn on things with Repositories of Culture: Why publishers should listen to Clay Shirky, writing:
The roles that publishers once played as gatekeepers, as arbiters and as “repositories of culture” are diminishing by the week. That’s happening partly through Amazon, but it’s also happening outside it. For a reality check, talk to the people who write and read on Wattpad. Shirky’s arguments are uncomfortable, sometimes personally so, and they don’t sit well inside companies that sell millions of dollars of books every year. That’s a pretty good set of reasons to take them seriously.
And it was in the comments section on O’Leary’s piece, then, that we saw something catch, a communal moment that reminds me of what Maass talks about occurring in the writerly life of a committed novelist.
“Rightness” and whose is it?
It seems to me that Mike Shatzkin sort of embodies a variety of “rightness” that is defined by the traditional industry. From within that frame of reference, Shatzkin is on the money almost every time. His take-down of Shirky is so confident, so positive, so self-evidently correct, because he is talking from within that frame.
John Maxwell
That’s Simon Fraser University’s John Maxwell, in comments at O’Leary’s site (which doesn’t allow me to link you directly to a given comment, unfortunately). I want you to have a little more of this:
But increasingly, a world exists outside that frame, and out there, Shatzkin’s points don’t make nearly such self-evident sense—witness the comments thread that follows his recent post. Shirky is outside that frame, as are a lot of the very smart people who have been applauding Shirky in recent days.
How quickly Shirky responded to Maxwell, and how well we saw a demonstration of what Maass calls “deciding what you know that your readers don’t” in the deliberations of the novelist.
I’m condensing Shirky’s response — scroll down on O’Leary’s page to read both him and several others’ comments in full:
I want to adopt John Maxwell’s statement, because it captures the issue so perfectly: …To John’s point, when you drop the frame of “The publishers must remain in charge” and switch to “The readers control 100% of the revenues for trade books, and someone is trying to offer them a better deal,” arguments like Mike’s look considerably less convincing.
It’s actually less important what you think of “Amazon vs. Publishing” than what you think of one vision of what’s happening over another, one visionary’s grasp as opposed to someone else’s.
If you consider the Maxwell-Shirky summation that the Shatzkinian view is “inside thinking,” then, yes, you can question whether that view understands the digital dynamic’s transfer of power to the readership, the consumer base.
And what we saw yesterday — even amid the totally understandable complaints from several very fine community thinkers (I’m looking at your hat, Baldur Bjarnason) that “debating this is pointless” — was a newly framed understanding of two forceful ways of understanding what’s happening to books and their business in our culture.
And from “the outside,” an upbeat note
Philip Jones
Happily, I can leave you with a coda here.
Announced at The Bookseller yesterday the magazine has a new arrangement with Nook Press — to produce a monthly “Independent Author Previews” section of self-published books’ recommendations.
Editor Philip Jones talked about the decision to “open up to indies” — in the phrase of the Alliance of Independent Authors — by adding self-published titles to its previews this way:
Our goal here is to discover the best new books published independently and made available to customers in the UK and we’re thrilled to have partnered with Nook Press. This is a new spin on what we have been doing for more than a 100 years, and recognises that some of the best new writing now comes through non-traditional channels. The Bookseller’s job remains the same, however, to shout about these books and bring them to the attention of our audience.
And the author Hugh Howey stepped forward to commend, very generously, the effort in The Bookseller and Nook Press. He wrote:
This is a major development for readers and writers alike. Stigmas are falling; self-publishing is now seen not only as viable but in many ways superior to any other path to publication, especially for authors just getting their start.
Hugh Howey
This followed closely his own The Tankers Are Turning piece, in which he had taken the time to commend many big-publishing efforts to change, to move forward, to experiment, to transform themselves, great ships of the establishment earnestly working to come around.
“There are visionaries on the decks of those other ships, as well,” Howey wrote.
“A lot of smart people see where we need to go. Some of them have even turned over the wheel. It just takes longer for these behemoths to bend their wake.”
It’s for each of us to decide which visionary sees most clearly and which deck to stand on.
And it’s important to remember that “wrong” or “right” — that “rightness” thing — lies as much in your own perspective as it does in anything these keen observers of our industry’s changes say to us. Neither Shirky nor Shatzkin is anybody’s slouch. O’Leary’s and Maxwell’s analyses are thoughtful, not pejorative.
And when you look at the business’ discussions of this kind, and I hope you do, you’re seeing a kind of macro playout of what Maass has identified as the micro genius of the best writing.
Stop, look up, think for a minute — what was the intent here, what was it that you knew your readers urgently needed to see? And what was it that we were trying to understand about the industry? Might it have been the needs of those readers? Your readers? Those digitally empowered consumers that one retail model seems today to be serving better than another?
Can you find points in your own work when you’ve done just what Don Maass is talking about? — stopping and reassessing what makes your intent important, what makes your story urgent? And can you apply that test to what you hear and read around you in the daily debate of the business with itself?
If you plan to join us at the Salem Un-Conference, I’ve been authorized by Writer Unboxed High Command to offer you my code PORTER to save $100 on registration. But hurry, it has a limited number of uses. Once they’re gone, we’ll have to report to the bridge and ask for more.
Main image – iStockphoto: PiotrSobczyk
@Porter_Anderson is a fellow of the National Critics Institute. He is Editor-in-Chief of Publishing Perspectives, the international news medium of Frankfurt Book Fair. He co-founded The Hot Sheet, a newsletter for trade and independent authors, which now is owned and operated by Jane Friedman. Priors: The Bookseller‘s The FutureBook in London, CNN, CNN.com and CNN International–as well as the Village Voice, Dallas Times Herald, and the United Nations’ WFP in Rome. is a recipient of London Book Fair’s International Excellence Award for Trade Press Journalist of the Year. PorterAndersonMedia.com
It’s hard to conceive of paper books ever disappearing… people still go see plays, even after the invention of television and movies. But as long as the technology keeps advancing, there will be space for easy access.
Hi, Jim,
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Few I know in the business think that paper books will disappear. They’ll continue to decline in prevalence but will likely always be around for collectors and for those who have a strong preference for them.
(You can make your cell phone ring just like an old rotary dial phone used to, too. There are markets here in nostalgia and in appreciation of the craft and the format.) As POD technology improves, print will be easier and faster to produce, too, and without the burdens of warehousing and transit, it becomes less troublesome to have print around, in a way.
Over time, however, electronic reading will continue to rise in dominance, I think, and many authors and agents are telling me now about contracts put in front of them by publishers with no print runs — only digital.
Believe it or not, there was a time when a lady, a friend of my parents, announced to me with great pride, “I’ve now got the email.”
This was about five years ago — a time when I could have found someone in my own family’s orbit still transitioning to email. And yet the rest of us can hardly imagine not having email, right?
So it goes. And the point will be storytelling. Worrying about formats is time best spent…writing. :)
Cheers,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I think print books will continue to exist for other reasons than nostalgia. Research suggests that people who read books in print versions demonstrate a better understanding of the story than people who read on a screen, when it comes to the order of story events and at what moments in the story these events take place.
I personally prefer print books not because of any nostalgic feelings but because I feel disorientated when I read on my Kindle. I don’t just read with my eyes; I read as much with my hands and I need to feel the book.
I teach six-year-olds for a living, and holding and discovering a book as an object is actually an important step in learning to read. Children in my class still love looking at real books and reading them. I’m convinced that handling real, tangible objects is as important in our lives as talking to and touching real, tangible people. We’re depriving our other senses if our world consists only of electronic devices that imitate reality.
Do you find yourself “stopping and reassessing what makes your intent important, what makes your story urgent?”
Oh, yes. Every day. Because when you are willing to spend most of your ‘good time’ doing something as complicated and time-consuming as writing a long novel, and it is entirely voluntary, the only thing that reliably keeps you returning day after day is the knowledge that you’re trying to do something important, something of value.
Whether it will find its audience when you finish is not the important question: Tolkien labored for years – and he was writing fantasy. But he’s gone now, and I selfishly think he used that time well.
Selfishly, again, I love that publishing is in an uproar and gatekeepers are falling like dominos – because the one thing that worried me when I started writing the story of Pride’s Children is how in the world I was going to get it through the narrow gate; and that gate has now been thrown wide open.
Only time will tell if writing a story that challenges the world’s beliefs about disability and the importance of individuals has merit and staying power; but it will get its chance.
That’s what keeps me writing.
Excellent questions.
Thanks, Alicia, always good to have you.
I’d recommend you be careful about the idea that gatekeepers are falling.
For one thing, as Hugh Howey helps us recognize, those major ships do have visionaries aboard, and they’re doing some impressive things, just at a rate of speed that might trick us into thinking they’ve gone into a decline.
And for another, many folks these days worry that we could sure use some good gatekeeping. The same throwing wide of the gates you like also means an industry overrun with amateurs who have the ability to turn the heads of consumers and make them read their books instead of yours. You are facing a competitive landscape unknown in history: We can “see” 28 million active titles right now from more than 900,000 active authors. What we can’t “see” is thousands upon thousands of writers and their books on top of that who are invisible to our researchers because no ISBN identifiers are being applied to so many books by authors happy that the gates have been flung wide.
So while I’m thrilled for your happiness in your work and want to see your book flourish and find its market, I know — and I imagine that you do, too — that you’re facing a remarkable hurdle. It makes your effort and commitment all the more handsome. But it also makes talk of “gatekeepers falling” all the less germane.
If anything? I wish you good gatekeepers who might like and want to promote your book. Maybe the ones who will choose 100 books at Nook Press each week and send them to the Bookseller. Maybe the staffers, my associates, who will then read and evaluate those 100 books to choose about 10 per month to be in the Bookseller’s Independent Author Previews.
If you write it, will they come?This will be your question. And I hope the answer will be a resounding yes!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Good points, all, Porter.
Howsomeever, it is better to have the ability to choose one’s gatekeepers – and to have a large supply of them to choose from.
Then, if you write the proverbial ‘good book’ (which most writers believe they have written), there are more chances at the marketplace – more places to be when/if luck comes along.
It helps not to be 1) in a hurry, and 2) dependent on the results. Those are luxuries I have – and many others do not.
I have my special problem areas other writers don’t – speed, health, and brainpower primarily – and I deal with them.
I’ll take my chances. And meanwhile, anyone interested in whether I have ‘the goods’ is welcome to come read along for a chapter or two – I am writing Pride’s Children in public, a new scene every Tuesday. It all comes down to the writing anyway, doesn’t it?
I’m glad you referenced Writing 21st Century Fiction today, Porter, because that’s the book that stopped me in my tracks. In a good way!
Many writers are in a hurry and indeed there’s far too much of that, “I spoke into a microphone” business. Perhaps now more than ever is a time for authors to take charge of their profession and go much further than ever before to master their craft.
I don’t just want to speak into a microphone. I want to change the world, in my own tiny, unmistakable way. The path to that, I’m discovering, is not just about finding your present manuscript’s urgent message – the one thing you have to say to readers – but rather is something that might be deeper, might require writing a new book to get to the heart of. The educated writer, driven to learn, to practice, to ever be challenged, knows this and will stop at nothing to reach it.
Like VHS tapes, writers with a box full of unpublished novels (ones which are polished and could have gone to eager Amazon) are growing rare. But I think this is an old way that should be held on to. To write a book but know it’s not ready, to have the discipline to hold it back and know you don’t have that urgent message yet – this is the mark of a disciplined writer who truly loves his readers. To go on and pursue the edge you need takes courage, but I believe failure only comes to those who stop before they succeed.
So well said, John. I kept nodding my head along as I read. Thank you for this.
You say it well, John, thank you,
And yes, we have a huge problem of people rushing to publish. Where’s the fire? In their impatience.
The guys at Nanowrimo each November say over and over and over to people that what they end up with after trying to write a book in a single month is not ready to send out. And yet there are authors, lots of them, I’m told, who ignore this and send those drafts out.
And everywhere you look there are people telling you that the only good PR is a great next book, many talk of writing four or more books per year. We see the literary equivalent of the late Thomas Kinkade’s comfy-cottage thumb-sucking visual art.
The kind of time and depth you’re talking about committing is fantastic. You’ve got me in your corner.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
What excellent observations, both your post and the thoughtful responses. I love hearing why fellow writers write, what compels them to pursue such an uncertain endeavor.
Personally, I can’t produce unless I identify some point in what I am crafting. But I don’t see that motivation as a desire to pontificate. What I want is to understand, to dig deeply into emotions I know in order to appreciate them better, or to make sense of situations I fail to grasp. So the word I use to describe my process is “explore.”
As I conceive and begin a new project, I spend a great deal of energy figuring out what I want to explore. As the book comes together, that initial concept may shift or expand. Books, I believe, are versatile enough to carry more than one idea, though it may help both writer and reader to have a north star.
Character, plot and setting are of course essential; those to me are the challenge – and the magic. But it is the themes of a well-crafted tale that stick with me as a reader. When all is said and done, I want to create books with themes that challenge me and then offer them up to readers. Hearing what they think, given their own life experience, then becomes a part of the exploration that spurred the writing in the first place.
In retrospect it’s somewhat amusing I didn’t address the confusing state of the emerging publishing landscape, as I find your observations insightful. But in a sense I did address it by not touching upon that aspect.
Ultimately I, like most authors, simply want to write well and have my best work reach readers. I could drive myself batty trying to figure out where publishing is heading (and still not know), so the best I can do is keep a mindful eye on that while focusing the bulk of my energies upon my craft, my characters and their stories. In other words, the things I can control.
The rules are changing; they always have and will continue to do so. But I have confidence I’ll figure it out. None of us would be here if we didn’t have that faith.
I respect everything you’re saying, John. I’ll also go so far as to say the writing is the essential element, the fundamental and first task, certainly.
But I’m never glad to hear authors say “I just want to write.” Not because that isn’t a lovely thought — it is — but because that’s a different worldview from the one that stands up to today’s realities.
Unless you want no more for your writing than something you can hand to your family and friends, “I just want to write” won’t get you there. It’s a business now. And unless you can pay a crack team of assistants to handle the business of your writing, that business is just as much your problem as are the words in your book.
Thanks again,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Thanks, Porter. I appreciate your response.
Do please understand I agree with everything you are saying as well. In defense, my full statement explained that I wanted to write well – AND have my works reach readers. Reaching and expanding that audience is indeed a business, an aspect to which I have and continue to devote energies.
What I was trying to express, but did not adequately, is my desire not to be distracted by the angst that so often accompanies discussions about the current evolution of the publishing world. While I recognize it is essential I understand those changes – and wish to do so – I cannot allow the uncertainty on how things on will play out in the industry paralyze my most essential task, which is to produce works worthy of a wide audience.
Thanks again for your insights and taking the time to respond to my observations. I very much look forward to meeting you in Salem.
Hi, John,
I like your concept of exploration — it sounds right to me, and as a reader, I’m going to hope that at some point you choose what it is you think your explorations have produced and render it. This is what I get from Don’s insistence that a writer “take a stand.”
While this probably isn’t a danger in your work, there are writers whose interest in exploration can keep them from delivering anything concrete and stable. Not unlike the writers who research a book for years and never quite write it.
Your process is super as long as it takes you where you want your writing to go — and I’ll bet that’s to market. :)
Cheers,
-p.
On Twitter: @PorterAnderson
Porter–
Until they shake themselves out, periods of transformation are often invisible, and always confusing. They are bridges between two distinctly different versions of things. To think in terms of your own word “visionary,” we are well served in such moments by guides who can lead us through the maze. You are one such, so thank you for this post.
I think of the current moment in publishing as analogous to water approaching the point at which it suddenly becomes something else–ice or vapor. We know the change is coming, but until it fully arrives we can’t see it.
I’m sure there are many who share my circumstances. I’m talking about writers who have for years knocked on the publishing castle’s strapped and bolted door. Hat in hand and always playing by the rules, always following expert advice, we’ve sat in workshops, attended conferences, met publishers who gave us their cards, met agents who took us on, but then took us nowhere, etc.
For writers like us, whatever the New Day Dawning may bring, it can only come as a blessing.
Hey, Barry,
And many thanks for the kind words.
I do hear what you’re saying about the dreadful rejections and waits and disappointments. I know something about those, myself, and they’re a palpable problem, punishing and vexing.
I also think you’re right that we’re getting closer to that change — I choose this set of thoughts today, in fact, because as John Maxwell identified the Shatzkinian view as so confidently of the “inside,” and as Clay Shirky then articulated so well what’s more commonly perceived on the “outside,” I realized that we’d reached an inflection point, a change at least in how some of us understand the dialog to be shifting.
Many (not just our friend Baldur Bjarnason) have begun talking of how these debates now seem to lead nowhere, and they’re right — and that’s a sign, too, that something is coming to a point of resolve and/or pivot. We’re not moving much in these debates and conversations.
When you couple that kind of glide-to-a-halt with the actual changes (for the better) that Hugh Howey is pointing out (quite graciously for one who has been such a critic), then yes, something is changing, and more than those tankers of his headline are turning.
The caution I’d put to you and to many, however, is this: Don’t assume that The Change — the bigger transition that these signals indicate is nearing — will leave you in some way no longer with major publishing houses or other forces, other gatekeepers in your world. Remember that, as Howey shows us, many of the very biggest forces are, actually, making changes and in was we didn’t think were possible so soon. Atria Books passing its titles off as indie, HarperCollins (both US and UK) opening direct-sales stores, RandomHouse creating author portals that put other dashboards to shame, Simon & Shuster setting up topic-vertical sales sites that offer other publishers’ books as well as their own…these are signs that “the bigs” are learning new tricks, old dogs that they are, and that those tankers Howey talks about may seem to turn slowly but they are, in fact, turning.
And what I’d hate to see is for you to decide that you never again will test the receptivity of your work with professional operations that could truly help sell it. I hear authors today talk of not querying at all, going straight to self-publishing. That way, they never know how a book might have been received or handled. What if a major publisher had been wiling to move that book into the marketplace as Knopf and Picador (US and UK https://ow.ly/BHNjJ ) are doing for Emily St. John Mandel’s superb “Station Eleven?” https://ow.ly/BF80H They do still do marketing, they do still have masterful power in the marketplace, these big “tankers” — and I hear writers vowing never to go near them again.
What if that’s not smart?
Waiting, watching, and making no sweeping “never again” promises is, surely, the best idea, despite the true pain of past wounds.
Thanks again!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter–
As always, your replies to comments, mine included, reflect an accurate, serious reading of what others have said, and meaningful responses.
I certainly know what you mean when you caution writers against assuming the New Day Dawning won’t bring with it “new gatekeepers.” We see it quickly taking shape in the proliferation of entrepreneurs anxious to aid–and profit from–the indie writer’s needs: editorial help, marketing help, etc. As some successful self-publishers have noted, the indie writer is all too often blind to the basic facts of life related to being both author AND publisher.
It’s encouraging, though, to learn of recent developments that suggest traditional publishing’s battleship is beginning to change course.
First, thanks for the provocation, Porter. I’ve never referenced The Three Stooges on WU before, but in regard to your observation about the WU community disliking the daily churning in the sea of ‘the industry, the industry’ I immediately thought, “Hey, I resemble that remark.”
This all reminds me of my heady days in the lumber trading world. Back in the late eighties, and through the nineties, that particular industry was in a state of seemingly constant upheaval. Between spotted owls, federal timber lock-downs, and the environmental movement on both sides of our northern border, it seemed every other week or so we were told that the sky was falling. I was always struck by the tone of those experiencing the storm from the epicenter (those on the trading desks in B.C. and Washington State). They would call with breathless exhilaration to explain that we MUST buy truck or train-car loads of certain products, immediately! They were sure to never be available again when current stocks were depleted. Certain things we specialized in (clear, vertical grain cedar and Douglas fir) would soon be a thing of the past. And then there was the volatility! Prices rocketed up and down (mostly up), and fax sheets exhorting us to react accordingly hummed into the office closer to hourly than daily.
But that was their world, there near to the storm, bobbing on the waves, ducking the lightning bolts. We were a large regional stocking dealer, more than a thousand miles away. Of course it was prudent of us to keep tabs on the state of upheaval out west, even to cast an occasional saving life-ring to a fellow trader, especially when it benefited us or our customers. But – speaking of our customers (Midwestern lumber retailers) – those who depended on us for stock cared little for the upheaval. In a way, they expected us to buffer them from it – to continue to cater to their needs in spite of all that went on in another version of ‘the industry, the industry!’
So I’m agreeing with you. It’s prudent to keep tabs… From a distance. I’m sure most readers are aware of the upheaval. But when they go to a book store, or sit down to warm themselves by the light of their glowing Kindle Fire (love that, one of your old cast-offs), they expect to find an immersing experience. I’m thinking providing that experience is job one for those of us who are working away, day by day, a thousand miles from the storm’s epicenter.
As with those who today order 16′ long, five-quarter by six inch clear cedar radius-edge deck boards for a high-end project: yes, they are still available. Although the way that type of wood is harvested, manufactured, and shipped has dramatically changed (mostly for the better, environmentally-speaking), and the decades-past upheaval played a huge role in those changes (and the price reflects it), they can still be had. Of course, composite decking is much more prevalent. Lots of peoples lives were altered. But some things stay remarkably unchanged. My former company, for example, which still provides those clear boards, still employs roughly the same sixty workers, and whose loaded trucks I still occasionally see rolling down nearby I-94, coming from Chi-town, with real, sawn lumber goods reloaded from trains arriving from the former storm’s epicenter. Fingers crossed, in a similarly distant future, I will still be cozy by my hearth with an actual novel (bound or digital, as suits my current preference) from a shaken and altered industry, perhaps made somewhat better for having endured the storms of the past.
Thanks again for the positive, if slightly admonishing nudge. Your diligent reporting from the epicenter is appreciated, Porter!
Hey, Vaughn,
Excellent analogy! (Pretty fascinating, too, for someone who hasn’t been near lumbering operations much.)
I was just saying to Barry in the comment above that, as Hugh Howey and others are pointing out, those tankers (could be lumber in their holds) are actually turning. To everybody’s amazement, we’re seeing strides taken in the right direction by “the dinosaurs” who were burned in effigy a few months ago. Big, big, big, long way to go, of course. These things should have happened ages ago, of course. Still not sure what mergers and acquisitions may do to the cast of characters or collection of dinos on the ranch. But you’re absolutely right, you just can’t write off the powers that be with the kind of alarmism that is shaken with the daily press release.
I’d warn, though, against too much worry for the reader in the warm-glowy cottage. If we never put out another book, that reader, even at 10 years old today, would have far, far, far more to read than he or she will ever want or need. We can “see” 28 million titles active right now. Thousands upon thousands more — maybe several more million — are invisible to us because they have no ISBNs.
So don’t get me wrong, as a writer, absolutely your goal is to deliver to the quilt-snuggly reader (by the light of the Fire, lol) something good to read.
All I’m saying is be wary of cutting short your need to follow, occasionally read up on, “stay across,” as the British say, the moving issues of the day. The readers don’t actually need a single book from you ever. Nor from anyone else. They’re all set. Digital has done that and we have inundated the market, it is a sunken cathedral (Mr. Debussy) of untold hours, weeks, months, years, lifetimes of reading, all they can eat.
The reader can spare you the time to keep an eye on the spotted owls of this bunch of lumberjacks.
And while I’m using her now as my National Example of Everything — because she’s super-savvy and winning the game because of it — just watch Emily St. John Mandel’s superb “Station Eleven” https://ow.ly/BF80H , just longlisted for the Natl. Book Award, published by Knopf and Picador (US and UK https://ow.ly/BHNjJ ). No big name at all. But she has educated herself and learned to read the system (as well as to write with enormous talent and cleverness). She’s an author who has learned to connect her art with her business. Boy, is it paying off. (I’ll have more on her at Thought Catalog soon, the US story.)
Thanks again — you’re right. All I’m saying is you want to know (a) when and (b) how that lumber company survived to roll down I-94 to this day. You won’t neglect your reader. She’s got a stack. :)
Cheers, and thanks again for the illuminating backstory, nice to hear of another industry in extremis for a time. :)
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter-
Thanks so much for the shout out. I’m excited about the Un-Conference and so glad you’ll be there.
Thanks also for this balanced reporting. I do think the new landscape of publishing is coming into view. The debate is abating and folks are talking less about what might be and more about what is.
Personally, I don’t want to live with a literature that is no more than people talking into a microphone. I do want to live in an industry that’s flexible, fast and serves both readers and authors in excellent ways.
Through all the discussion (and sometimes shouting) my conviction hasn’t changed. It doesn’t matter who publishes, or how, or when, or at what price. It’s powerfully-told stories with a powerful purpose that will reach our hearts and endure. That’s where I put my focus.
See you in Salem.
Couldn’t agree more, Don, if they’re going to be phoning it in, then it’s not worth it for any of us.
Shirky’s point is really good. When everybody can do it, is doing it, has done it…it’s not at all what it was. And you can see how destabilizing that is to some in the picture. Makes perfect sense. The prestige drain of the digital dynamic, fast and frightening for lots of folks.
Prestige has to come from the other place – the art, the powerfully purposeful, aggressively articulated stories. Happily, your book and course are grand contributions to that need.
What we’re waiting to see is the apparatus we have to promulgate those powerfully purposeful stories in the new digital realm. I agree with you, I think the picture is coming into better focus. I’m with Hugh Howey, too, in feeling heartened to see these good signs of movement among the mighty, the tankers turning — powerfully purposeful stories need the most forceful platforms we can give them. And that’s the best reason to pay attention to what’s there when the smoke clears.
Speaking of powerfully purposeful, have you read Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven yet? — https://ow.ly/BF80H (I did a piece on her UK publisher Picador’s fine marketing here https://tcat.tc/1nIrG5S — a story on Knopf’s approach in the States is in the works.)
Looking forward to seeing you in Salem!
-p.
I find myself closing my eyes to ‘the industry,’ breathing deep, and recalling WHY my butt remains in the chair day in and day out. It is surely not for any publisher, agent, or otherwise, even though I adore the ones I work with. I daresay it isn’t even for the reader. It is for me. Pure and simple.
Write for you.
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
Hey, Denise!
Thanks for reading and commenting!
You sound to me like the perfect candidate for ignoring the business. And as long as your writing is entirely for you, as you put it, then your position is perfectly sensible.
In fact, you might enjoy RescueTime, a wonderful software I use to turn off only the parts of the Internet I want (social media) and keep on the parts I need (dictionary, research) when writing. It’s a grand tool. Check it out here if you like https://ow.ly/BsDXJ
And if you reach a point at which you’d like to see your work “out there” where others can find it, buy it, read it, then I submit that you’ll want to open the windows and start learning and engaging in the market life of the industry very deliberately.
Because paying attention to the things we’re talking about here — as I urge salable writers to do — is not “for” the publishers nor “for” any other part of the industry. it’s for you, the writer.
If you made beautiful bird houses by hand for 10 years in secret, and then decided you’d like to see if anyone might like to buy some of them and enjoy them at their homes … wouldn’t you want to know a little something about the farmers’ market down the road? Could you sell them there? Would you have to give up part of your earnings to the market to pay for your table? Would the crowd of shoppers there be better than if you set up a lemonade stand in your front yard? Would a big online market be interested in selling them for you?
In much the same way that Don Maass tells us the work of literary fiction and salable commercialism have begun to merge in “21st Century Fiction,” the role of the author — the authority — had begun to merge into a selling artist, a marketplace craftsman.
Here’s an image for you: Emily Dickenson’s front door — “Poems for Sale, Inquire Within.”
Thanks,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter, your thoughtful post focuses on two issues and writers can only control one of these issues. The writer has control over story intent and that is hugely important (sorry about the adverb). A story’s intent must be compelling, interesting to the reader, and (I dare say) it must have give some insight into the human condition. That sounds vague, but the world is full of decent, well written stories that, upon completion, the reader says, “So what?” Writers should aim to do more than just tell an interesting story and therein lies the challenge. As to the broader issue of the sea changes occurring in the publishing industry, I agree writers have a responsibility to stay informed, but we have little control over the rapid fire developments occurring in the industry! the industry! What is good for the writer, though, is that we now have more options avaialble to us when we seek to publish our work. I look forward to meeting you and Don at the WU UnConference in Salem.
CG, I am psyched about meeting you and introducing you to Don, too!
That will be such a pleasure, after so many years of your wonderfully attentive, generous comments.
I take onboard (this ship metaphor!) everything you’re saying here. But let me offer you one image I just spun up for Denise in the comment above:
Emily Dickenson’s front door — “Poems for Sale, Inquire Within.”
While I know you feel that you have no control as a writer over developments in the market, this is, today, far from the actuality. Remember that Philip Jones talks of The Bookseller’s 100 years (and more, actually) history of highlighting and previewing books as they came out? — something has made that venerable medium (for which I am very proud to be an associate editor) suddenly change course and begin including self-published books in its preview process. And that is the result, the direct result, of writer using a different way to produce ** and pressure ** the industry to carry their production.
In other words, while The Bookseller is a uniquely astute medium — the medium of record for Western publishing in the world today — it nevertheless had to be shown the efficacy of authors’ self-made work before even it could come to this important moment.
So that sea change is one brought about by writers. Who are, in fact, controlling more shots than you can tell at times.
Why has Random House activated what may be the most sophisticated author-portals (informational online sites for its authors to get info about their own sales and accounts from their publisher)? Because its authors demanded it and because companies, much smaller, have begun producing such dashboards for self-publishing writers: The largest publisher in the world realized it needed to respond to the call for better information, something heard for decades but only now acted on. Another sea change and those waves were made by writers.
Why has HarperCollins created its own sales sites both in the US and UK? Because writers are demanding that their publishers “meet the readers,” stop working entirely through buyers and distributors, go directly to readers … and because those writers can very well go to outfits that DO this (Amazon) if their publishers don’t start figuring out a way (very important for business model development, too) to go D2C, direct to consumer. More waves made by writers.
The list goes on, I won’t bore you.
But make no mistake. The changes driven by digital right now are more frequently shaped than you can tell very easily by the stances and rising options of authors. Hugh Howey even reports that his agent is seeing contractual easings on various points — after years of near-stonewalling by publishers. That’s author demand at work.
And it starts with attention. The more writers who simply pay attention, the more the established powers have to respond. If the corporate structures can say, “oh, those authors aren’t paying attention to business, they’ll never notice this or that,” then progress doesn’t happen. But if sites like these and other events show them that the authors know what they’re doing and want to see better…different kettle of fish…on that ship…God help us with this metaphor.
See what I mean?
See you in Salem!
-p.
On Twitter: Porter_Anderson
Excellent points, Porter. Writers can and have exerted influence on the publishing industry. Thanks for the insights.
You know Porter when I read all this stuff, I can’t help thinking about the parallel industry of television. There was a time a few years back when cable TV was the redheaded stepchild of that industry. Today, cable has a reputation of being where it’s at. The best writing, acting, and thought provoking work pushing at the edge, and not just for the fringe edge audience anymore but for the mainstream. Sheesh, even Netflix and Amazon have jumped into the game. And the quality of the work? While there will always be those mind numbing (and sometimes nauseating) reality shows out there, there has also been major exposure for some great, new shows, that may not have had such opportunity before. And that’s the key word here, opportunity, the opportunity for more great works to see the light of day, both in the book publishing industry and the film industry. Of course, you get more of the mediocre stuff too. In the end, the more things change, the more they stay the same, just on a larger scale.
Hey, Bernadette,
Love your idea of it as opportunity. That’s a terrific way to conceptualize this, especially when the other “opportunity” is to be buried under so much material. Surely keeping an eye on it as and for opportunities can only help a writer spot the specific advantages for his or her work, and take hold.
Good thought, thanks!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter, I do think as writers it’s helpful to know details about the current state of publishing, though with developments every day, it seems like trying to suck a ball of mercury up in a straw. We’re lucky to have an intrepid reporter like you to condense all the noise into digestible info.
(Though sometimes reading about the industry(squared)! seems like being in the jury room for 12 Angry Men.)
Hey, Tom,
I do think it’s just fine to use, say, a handful of journalists you like to follow to keep up with industry developments. The incremental moves in those developments can be pretty byzantine, and using summary analysis makes perfect sense.
The point is to do that, as you do, and not just shut the door and sigh about how one “just wants to write” without any idea of the market and trends that writing is headed for.
I see a lot of “just want to write” people who are creating things in the metaphorical closed rooms of their isolation that may have no place in the market’s needs or interest once they’re done. Terrible thought — putting into a book all that goes into one, only to find that a little market knowledge could have made your project twice as salable.
So carry on. And don’t let the 12 Angry Men thing get to you. Lots of Angry Women in publishing, too, like the one I wrote about here https://bit.ly/1qWMehe who announced that my ignorance was “stunning.” — and of course I’ve never claimed such glory for my ignorance. :) But she got herself muted for that abuse. Which was a lovely way to handle it, by the way: I recommend it on Twitter. Vexing, irritating, abusive people? Mute them. They never know you did it. They’re just out there screaming at you and you have no idea. Fabulous.
The anger doesn’t count. It’s just the byproduct of a wired world, in which no one gets as much attention as he or she seems to feel he or she deserves. “Networking” does that. It makes all the “networkers” think that everyone should be following along and applauding. Funny how being handed a megaphone makes a person feel that folks will listen. When they don’t? Anger. :)
Cheers, Tom,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Porter, loved your FutureBook post about Twitter and author hostility you linked above (and when that mute IRL function comes out, please alert the masses). I also learned some valuable information about zombies I didn’t know, even though I pass in and out of zombie consciousness myself. Good read.
I make up stories. Some people find my stories exciting. They like to pay me to read them. I like that they like to pay me to read them. I want to find more people who like to pay me to read my exciting stories. I will do what it takes to make my exciting stories easy to find for the many millions of people out there who will like my stories but don’t know they’re out there yet.
There it is…in words a six year old could understand.
Put another way, I see myself like a pirate on a ship. It is sailing one way to find treasure and make a profit, but I always keep a grappling hook on a rope nearby. If the winds change and ship I’m on veers off course, I find the next ship passing in the right direction and latch on, swinging into the wind to be carried to the next great adventure.
Ah, and now you’re here as “a pirate on a ship.”
You’re a Sailer Unboxed, Basil, and I wish you joy of it.
As you were,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Hello, Basil.
I find it hard to understand exactly what your statement “in words a six-year-old could understand” has to do with our post here — or why “words a six-year-old could understand” are germane.
I know of very few six-year-olds who read Writer Unboxed.
I feel confident, however, that YOU understand what you’re saying and why. And that is what’s important, I’m sure.
All the best with it.
I’ll direct the next six-year-old I meet your way.
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
Hi, Porter! How on the earth did I miss this (until today, at least!) I’ve been checking in and I guess Friday was just so busy I didn’t even realize I hadn’t checked WU yet! I don’t know if you’ll even see this comment, but comment I shall, anyway!
I love how you can pull together all the different threads of publishing thought out there, and condense it to an understandable post. Perspective is so important when dealing with people. When we write a story, we have the perspective that what we have to say is important, and it is to the people who have a similar perspective to ours. ie. Our right readers.
Likewise, within the indie/traditional debate, perspective is important. I’d never really thought about it like that, but for a looong time I’ve been frustrated with how people’s perspective on which is “right” and “better” can be so narrow and denigrating of the other. Even within self-publishing itself that need to be “right” (or validate their own perspective as right) leads to some pretty obnoxious behavior or statements.
As far as the Amazon/Publishing debate, man… I just don’t know. I self-published so my perspective is that access to readers is great. (Although I still have limited access because of the difficulty of gaining visibility. Or maybe my book sucks, who knows.) I tend to agree with Shatzkin, though, because I don’t think the publishing world has to be an either/or, as long as there’s traditional publishing out there. Some people don’t want to self-publish, usually because their own perspective on self-publishing doesn’t allow them to. Those people need publishers. Self-pubbers need Amazon. Readers need books. Authors need readers. There has to be a middle ground somewhere.
I wish I was going to the Unconference. There’s so many people (including you!) I’d love to get to talk to in person, but sadly I can’t miss that much work. I’m hoping people will take tons of pictures and I can live vicariously (and jealously) through you all. :)
Hey, Lara,
Great of you to catch up with the column (I’m every third Friday) and to comment!
I’d just put a word in of caution on one thing you’re saying. In the aggregate, you’re right — readers need books.
In the actual situation on the ground? Not so much.
Just did a piece this week at Thought Catalog https://tcat.tc/1olfHM4 IN which I’m looking at Marcello Vena’s very wise observation that TIME is the key resource of readers that isn’t holding up. Several voices speak to this in the story. And what it tells us overall is that the “tsunami,” as Jon Fine calls it, of books hitting the market is such that we’re not fighting for readers’ dollars (never mind low prices) or their preferences (never mind genre), we’re fighting for their time. And with the surge of amateurism into the publishing marketplace, we are utterly inundating the reader with far, far, far too much to read.
Readers, sorry to say, don’t actually need books right now. Even unable to count self-published books with no ISBNs, readers have more than 28 million active titles to choose from. Many, many lifetimes of reading already are out there.
What does this all mean? It means we need to (a) stop worrying about readers — they have more books and at less cost than at any moment in history; (b) figure out what to do about a market absolutely drowning in content.
As Bob Mayer tells us, author sales are down. That’s because there’s too much out there.
Lots to think about, right?
Thanks again!
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson
I am a new indie writer. I have a couple of novels published on Amazon, with a couple more nearing completion. While I try to follow on various blogs the industry trends, the business of publishing moves along with or without me. I can respect all of the experience in the comments here: many who have years of rejection now have the tools to make their voices heard. But my experience in publishing is limited to the last two years. I stepped into the middle of the storm. For me, this current state is simply how it is.
I appreciate that some can see the storm calming. Others see visionary changes in all parties. To those watchmen on the tower, I say thank you. For me, down in the frothy surf, I can only see the tallest point, and I am swimming for that. With my limited reach right now, it is self-publishing. It may be a small island I am heading towards, but from that island, more vistas will come into view. There are many voices calling out, “swim this way!”, “No, swim this way!” possibly to greater islands, but my course is set. Once I get my feet on solid ground, then I can look around. Until then, I am very grateful for the opportunity to self-publish my stories and work on building an audience.
Tarl,
Thanks for reading, and for your note.
I understand what you’re saying and wish you nothing but the best with your approach. I’d just say counsel — without knowing if it’s fully applicable to your situation — that you not skip the process of submitting your material to established industry channels: agents, primarily.
The self-publishing movement has gained enough energy that many who are new to the business receive a message that sounds a lot like “Don’t even submit your work to agents or editors, just go straight to self-publishing.” And while some may earnestly disagree with me, I believe it is a mistake to do this.
I think it’s highly helpful for even the most successful self-publisher to learn something of how the industry sees his or her work. Agent response and/or publishing-house response can be highly instructive in terms of what works and what doesn’t in a writer’s efforts.
At Thought Catalog, I’ve just written, in fact, about Momentum, a division of Pan Macmillan (a Big Five publisher) that takes submissions without agents from writers around the world. This could be a place to get a fix on how your work is seen, if you haven’t done this in other ways. https://tcat.tc/1mzp0ww
Again, you may already have had the experience of submitting your material. If not, doing so doesn’t mean you can’t self-publish. But if you haven’t take the time to find out how your work is seen by the industry, I recommend the experience as a helpful gauge to what may happen when you approach the marketplace.
All the best,
-p.
On Twitter: @Porter_Anderson