The Myth of the Average Reader
By Cathy Yardley | April 1, 2016 |
Photo by George A. Spiva Center for the Arts
There is no such thing as the “average reader.”
I usually see references to this mythic creature — the average reader — in one of two contexts.
First:
“I’m going for mass market appeal — I think the average reader would enjoy my book.”
Second:
“Well, the average reader obviously doesn’t know what good writing is. Why else would they buy crap like (popular bestseller)?”
I’m going to tackle these two usages separately.
The myth of the “mass market” average reader.
Readership is not monolithic. In this day and age, there really isn’t a mass market consumer, and very few mass market products. Commodities like flour and milk are split into more and more specific categories: whole wheat, unbleached, gluten-free, 2%, 1%, lactose-free, organic, goat, cow, almond, soy, etc.
So how could something as subjective as reading taste be considered “mass market”?
Yes, you’ll have some FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) readers, who are jumping on the bandwagon, only because they want to discuss what everyone seems to be reading. But with the plethora of entertainment choices out there, reading isn’t necessarily the water-cooler discussion point it used to be. (Come to that, there aren’t really water-coolers that people chat around. Break room discussion? Facebook discussion?)
This isn’t something to bemoan. This is not a cultural commentary, and quite frankly, I am not going to waste time making a judgment on a nostalgic “mass market/higher reading” audience. This is the reality we are working with. Story comes in a lot of forms. There are simply more options than there ever have been before, and we have got to stop being so precious about it if we hope to create a sustainable living from it.
The days of demographics.
Demographics are the segmentation of a group of people by factors like age, ethnicity, race, religion, income, and education.
In the earlier days of marketing, any consumer description was couched in demographics. For such-and-such a product, they might describe the ideal consumer as:
Woman, 30-40’s, married, household income of $60k, lives in suburbs.
The assumption is that people of the same gender, marital status, income, etc. would have the same tastes, the same interests. More importantly, they could be reached by the same marketing techniques (which, at the time, were “push” promotion, spread through heavily controlled, one-way mass media.)
The rise of psychographics.
As people started connecting in new ways with increased and easier communication options, and sales of products became easier and more global, it became clear that simple demographics weren’t as effective as they used to be.
For example, the original assumptions of the rise of the romance genre was that it was mainly read by suburban housewives of lower education and household income, so marketing should appeal to that supposed “demographic” by referencing things like “when you need a break from the kids!” or literally marketing them like bleach or other household products, emphasizing similarity and brand over individual authors.
While this worked incredibly well for a while, the “category romance” has been in documented decline for the past decade, as their audience is, essentially, dying out. It’s simply easier to get exactly what you want now, rather than settling for a limited range of “commodified” genre offerings. The success of re-tooled category romance has come from the increased sharpening of focus by category lines and the diversification of sub-genres. Even so, publishers of category romance are continually tinkering with the psychographics of their offerings as demographics have fallen by the wayside… looking at what emotional tropes are being served, rather than what the readership might look like.
Per Wikipedia, psychographics is “the study of personality, values, opinions, attitudes, interests, and lifestyles.”
In recent years, you can get more data than ever on readers and consumers. Look at the rise in popularity of comic book conventions, for example. No longer the assumed bastion of single young men, it draws fans from all age groups, ethnicities, incomes, and education levels. Their psychographic is the interest in sci-fi, fantasy, and “geek” culture. Despite the disparity in demographics, all get an emotional satisfaction from it.
Just as there is more diversity in readership, there has been a corresponding diversity in sub-genres. Fans of one sub-genre may not enjoy others, because the emotional needs served by the sub-genre aren’t satisfied. Take mystery, for example. Those that like the puzzle but don’t like the gore may be staunch cozy mystery fans, for example, while police procedural fans may like the vicarious thrill of the chase. Both may be bored by the relatively light investigation and higher comedic value of a romantic amateur sleuth. Just marketing something as “mystery” is not enough.
That said, there aren’t crisp, discrete reader segments, either. One reader can enjoy romantic comedies, British spy thrillers, and the occasional horror, with a few dashes of lit fic thrown in for spice. You couldn’t draw a demographic profile for this reader. You’d have to focus on the interests instead, searching for where it intersected with your particular offering.
Finally, there are different consumption patterns for readers. Some readers are voracious, reading a novel every day or two. They are easily bored, and always on the look out for a new author and a new story. Others are more selective, re-reading favorite stories and only moving forward on a new recommendation with lots of careful consideration, trusted peer input, and vetted reviews. Some one-click like mad, snapping up books like candy. Others have tight budgets and, having been “burned” wasting their hard-earned cash on books that ultimately disappointed and frustrated them, will first go to libraries or borrow from friends before giving a new author their loyalty.
How does this help you, as a writer?
Marketing to everyone is inefficient and ineffective. Like anything, if you try to appeal to everyone, you’ll be so watered down and vague you’ll appeal to no one. It’s far better to look for your Right Reader, your true fan. Which means looking at what you do best, what you love, and who is looking for exactly that. That is your beachhead market: the passionate preliminary market. This is where the much-heralded word of mouth starts. They are not only vehement… they’re vocal. They want more people to understand their obsession, and share it.
So how do you define the psychographics of your readership?
Know the reader. Love the reader. Be the reader.
Some may scoff at this advice. “I am a reader!”
But let’s be honest. Very few writers can retain their reader mentality. As a writer, we automatically start critiquing what we read, or start mentally editing it– what we’d do, if this were our story. When we find authors whose works are immersive, we value them, and rightfully so. But often we stop reading in our own genres for fear of unconscious copying. Or we are derisive of the work of others who we feel are of lower quality than ours.
And that brings us to context #2.
“Why is this so popular, when it’s so terrible? Obviously the average reader wouldn’t know quality writing if it hit him over the head!”
I have heard or read statements this more times than I care to think about, in blog comments, in online diatribes, spoken with finality at writers’ conferences or chapter meetings or in public discourse. And my back goes up every single time I hear it, and I think:
Dammit, writers! This is why we can’t have nice things.
For one thing, it smacks of sour grapes. There are plenty of other books that aren’t well written, by the commenter’s standards. But the one that’s financially successful is the one that draws ire, because it’s an affront to the commenter’s world view. Well written should be recognized, lauded, purchased. Poorly written should fail and die an ignominious death. Usually said author isn’t making enough on a quarterly basis on his own fiction to buy coffee at Starbucks. (This is also usually where the phrase “I write for my art, because this is my passion” comes in, by the way. As if making money as a writer, if it even were possible, is something dirty — selling out.)
But worse than sour grapes, it shows an ugly sort of entitlement.
There is a slang term, “friendzone”, which when used as a verb means that a person you are attracted to has deemed you sexually unappealing, but is still cordial because you’re seen as a “friend”, a neutered and almost pitiable figure in the fringe of their life. The anger at “being friendzoned” brings with it a certain sense of injustice — and expectation. “I am a good person. She only likes jerks who treat her poorly! This is why she is not a good person/ why women are mistreated/why society sucks!”
Those who are “friendzoned” rarely say “I guess I am not her type/we are not compatible/she is interested in a different type of equally valid person who is not me.” It’s usually ugly, paints the one rejecting the advances as fickle and unworthy, and points out the relative merits of the “friendzoned” as something that entitles him to the favor of the object of affection by default.
Now, let’s take Fifty Shades of Grey. You can’t throw a dart without hitting someone who has something snide to say about the infamous bondage novel. Often, it’s by someone who says baldly that they haven’t read it, and when pressed, point out that they knew within the first page or two that it was simply unreadable, and so they did not continue. With the subtext (or downright overt statement) that, obviously, anyone who would publicly profess to enjoying this novel is poorly educated (can’t recognize “quality” prose) or perhaps simply unintelligent despite their schooling, and that the proliferation of these readers signifies that civilization as we know it has gone to hell in a handcart, and all we can do is wring our hands and try to tape up the gaping wound of literature with valiant if ultimately unsuccessful band-aids made with thoughtful haiku.
We get so hung up on critiquing, so myopically focused on “how could this possibly work?” that we ignore the larger question: what emotions does this story serve?
Psychographics, at their heart, are emotional. That’s why a “poorly written” story can inspire rabid loyalty and massive sales, while a literary masterpiece can molder on a shelf. Without emotional resonance, story doesn’t connect. Cerebral novels and short stories have a place and an audience, without question. But for fiction authors, emotion is the coin of the realm, and even the best intellectual stories have that core of authentic, even raw, emotionality.
If you want to succeed as an author, you need to identify and play to your audience’s emotional touchstones. For genre fiction, this is usually constructed within a developed character arc in a traditional and recognizable three-act structure. It doesn’t matter if the emotion is ultimately uplifting, or tragic, humor or angst. It’s how well the emotion is communicated, and how deeply the reader can experience it. That’s what you need to know. That’s what you need to show… in how you describe the book, how you market it, and before all that, how you write it.
So let’s stop shying away from marketing. Let’s stop complaining about being “friendzoned.” Let’s stop taking other author’s inventories and start focusing on our own writing.
Let’s stop talking average readers, and start thinking our readers.
Have you identified your readership? What is the emotional payoff for your books? What can a reader expect (and count on) to experience when reading your stories?
Cathy Yardley has published over 33 novels, novellas, and serialized fiction, both traditionally and independently. In 2011, she started RockYourWriting.com, with the mission of helping novelists make a living. She has helped hundreds of authors as a developmental editor, writing coach, and through her “plot sessions” – one-on-one calls that get authors from concept to plot points in one hour. She’s also written the Rock Your Writing series of reference books, taking authors through the writing cycle, from concept to completion. Sign up for her newsletter, and you can receive free downloads to help you plot and revise your novel.
“If you want to succeed as an author, you need to identify and play to your audience’s emotional touchstones.” Of all the pearls of wisdom in this post, this is the best one. It doesn’t matter what your genre is or what market you are writing for. If the reader doesn’t connect on an emotional level with your characters, your work won’t sell. There is no average reader, but all types of readers will be attracted to books with emotional resonance. Thank you, Cathy, for such a well written and thoughtful piece.
Thanks so much, CG! The marketing pieces can be overwhelming for writers, but as long as we focus on the basics, I think it gets easier, as well as more effective. I appreciate your response!
Gosh, Cathy, I’m a bit overwhelmed; must be Friday morning. This sounds like a great approach, and I get your point on the emotional resonance and payoff of a story as essential. Okay, that’s writing skills. But I’m kind of lost how psychographics work to indentify the readers. How does an author study or know the personality, opinions, and lifestyles of a particular readership? Wouldn’t we need a marketing research team to learn that? For those of us who don’t have big time publishers who have access to marketing psychographics, how would this work for indie or self-pubbed authors? Fascinating post today!
Sorry! That’s on me — I geeked out on marketing terms. I read business books a lot. They have a strange fascination for me.
Actually, as an indie/self-pub or even a small publisher, I think you’re in a better position. Bigger publishers still fall into the old school marketing camp, or they don’t have a comprehensive marketing approach per author. It shocks me how many of them are throwing marketing dollars at assumptions, and besides that, many (if not all!) of them put the onus of promotion on the author. That’s the norm now. You don’t get marketing dollars unless you’ve got massive sales or they’ve put a massive investment in because you’re a big bet.
Anyway, all you have to do to discover your reader’s psychographics is to hang out and immerse yourself in reader culture. Read the reviews for your comp books, and see what people are calling out. Is it the characters? If so, what about the characters? Sometimes they’ll talk about why they chose this particular book, or where they heard about it.
Hang out in reader environments. *Don’t introduce yourself as an author, and DO NOT promote!* These are fact finding missions. Pay attention to what books they talk about, and why. Learn how they talk to each other. Look for superfans — the ones that seem to know about new books, and who they recommend. Read blogs run by reader fans, people who are so fanatic they don’t get paid (except in free books, when they’re lucky.) Also, look at peripheral conversations. What movies do they talk about? Any pet peeves?
It’s like doing the character work for a novel. You want to be able to draw a composite “reader” based on your research. And when you write anything to promote your book, you write directly to that reader.
Does that help? Thanks so much for commenting. I really should have been more clear on this one (and kept my audience in mind, d’oh!) I’ll do better next time! :)
Oh yes, this is very helpful. I like how specific your suggestions are, Cathy. Many thanks!
Right on the mark and totally well written essay. I’ve come to the same conclusion over the last several years, thinking more about readers–my readers–and the reason they choose my books. I’m giving them the emotional ride they want, and I cannot do that for “every’ reader or the “average” reader. For those who choose my books, my fears are their fears, and my stories figure out a way to resolve those fears and provide a satisfying ending. But you put all that so much better!! Thank you for your insights.
That’s exactly it, Linda! You get it. That’s the direction author marketing needs to head. :) Thanks for commenting!
Hi Cathy.
As always, you’ve given us a great deal to think about. In part, that’s because your own writing is so clear and authoritative. There’s far more content in your post than can be fairly commented on here.
That takes care of the obligatory (but also deserved) opening WU compliment, the hors d’oeuvre. Here’s the entrée. What leaves me un-persuaded by talk of demographics being superseded by psychographics is how you finish your post: “Have you identified your readership?”
Given what you say about the current impossibility of actually nailing down anything specific about readers (they like a little bondage on Tuesdays, some post-apocalyptic ruin porn on Wednesday, a smidgeon of bodice-ripper fantasy on Thursday), I don’t see how you can expect writers to identify their readership. You even say it yourself: “You couldn’t draw a demographic profile for this reader.”
Instead, you fall back on what so many other posts lately have relied on, tapping into readers’ emotions. “If you want to succeed as an author, you need to identify and play to your audience’s touchstones.” Fine. Tell us what the touchstones being played to are in Fifty Shades. What are they in any Patterson novel?
Apparently, you are urging us to study such success stories, and to emulate them. If we don’t, we’re plain-vanilla snobs who resent anything at odds with our world view, especially the big commercial success stories. This is “worse than sour grapes,” you say. “It’s an ugly sort of entitlement.”
That word would seem to be your usage for those of us who regret how good writing seems unimportant to most readers. For this reason we deserve our hapless “friendzone” status, scraping together the small change from our earnings to buy a cup of coffee.
But that’s exactly who my Right Reader is, people who DO make distinctions about how language is used. That’s my beachhead market. And it would seem that no amount of psycho-babble can help writers like me to find those readers.
P.S. I should have read Paula Cappa’s comment before bothering to write mine. Hers is better.
GAH. I wrote a thousand word response to this… and WordPress ate it! ARGH!!!
Well, shoot. I’ll try to give the Cliff’s Notes.
1. “You couldn’t draw a demographic profile for this reader.” The point is, you’re not supposed to. Authors need to focus on what the interest is. It doesn’t matter what else they’re interested in. If they like Dystopian and rom com and limericks in Latin, all you’re focused on is the fact that they like the emotional touchstones of whatever it is you’re offering, and are already looking for things in a similar vein.
2. “Tell us what the touchstones being played to are in Fifty Shades. What are they in any Patterson novel?”
Man, this is where I am really bummed. I wrote a whole thesis on this in that last post.
Long story short: I enjoyed Fifty Shades. I admit it. The emotional touchstone is the thrill of taboo, but more importantly, the trope of virginal heroine (the one time in your life when sex is both mysterious and utterly heightened because you don’t know what to expect) and the damaged, utterly consumed hero (when you’re juggling laundry and getting the kids off to school before dashing off to a conference call, your family has piled dishes by the sink rather than loading them in the empty dishwasher, and in your haste you’ve almost fallen in the toilet — AGAIN — because someone left the seat up, let’s just say the idea of a guy who is utterly engrossed in your needs and who wants to pamper you can be kind of a turn on.)
As to Patterson, there is both the emotion that is standard for that genre, thriller and/or mystery: the sense of jeopardy, the vicarious adrenaline of the chase, the sense of good versus evil.
There are obvious emotional touchstones in each. In any genre. If you have the most well-written book in the world, in either genre, that doesn’t also fulfill the emotional promise of said genre, then your book will fail. Period.
3. “But that’s exactly who my Right Reader is, people who DO make distinctions about how language is used. That’s my beachhead market. And it would seem that no amount of psycho-babble can help writers like me to find those readers.”
So you do know your readership, see? You care about the quality of language. Your readership is going to care about the quality of language. Personally, I’d argue that quality of language is more intellectual than emotional, but I know that strong emotions are involved. I’ve felt the zing of reading a particularly well-written passage, where you close the book (or rest the e-reader on your chest) and stare at the wall for a minute, stunned and appreciative.
There is a whole genre of fiction that caters to that particular kink. It’s called literary fiction. So target literary fiction.
If you want a literary fiction aesthetic within a genre, you need to fulfill the emotional promise of the genre AS WELL AS the literary promise, or you’ll fall. In romance, you could look at women’s fiction writer Sarah Addison Allen. In fantasy, The Night Circus by Erin Morganstern, or anything by Neil Gaiman, or Jacqueline Carey. In horror, you could look at Clive Barker or Anne Rice for a lyrical voice, or go old school with H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe. For mystery, look at Dennis Lehane, Patricia Highsmith, Umberto Eco.
But I stand firm: the emotion must come first.
Cathy, you nailed it. There is no average reader but we all have emotions. And what we crave in entertainment is an emotional experience.
In a way genre, style, setting and so on are only trappings, most effective when they manage to stir feelings. Character arc and heart-tugging moments do far more to create reader loyalty (and what else is “brand”?) than fine prose or tight plot.
So why are there genre readers? Because those readers have received the most emotional reward for reading a certain type of novel, so to that type they return.
By the same token, novels that lift off and sell to hundreds of thousands more book consumers than others are clearly providing an emotional experience that overcomes consumer reluctance, such as “literary fiction will make me feel bad”, “crime fiction is gory”, “sci-fi is strange”, “romance fiction is trashy”and so on.
That’s what folks failed to see about 50 Shades: It wasn’t the bondage but the emotional hook that echoed with millions of women. What emotional hook? Getting hurt by falling in love with a man who isn’t (or refuses to be) available. Heartache. Writ large. And extra painful.
True, there is no average reader. But there is humanity and human beings crave emotional satisfaction. The more you create the more you connect. And sell. It’s a theme of mine here at WU and the subject of my next book.
Brilliant post. Brilliant. So much validation I wanted to weep, I’m such a fan! (See how the second clause follows the first?)
Thanks, Cathy. You’re far from average.
You are way too kind, Don. I have used your books and tools over the years to coax this emotional authenticity out of my work, and I both admire and advocate your approach to story. I am your otaku. :) Thank you so much for commenting!
I’ve never written for an “average reader”. I have written for an “ideal reader”. For me, that is someone that fits this description from author, Zadie Smith (sorry, it’s a long quote, but I must share it here because it is relevant):
“A novel is a two-way street, in which the labor required on either side is, in the end, equal. Reading, done properly, is every bit as tough as writing – I really believe that. As for those people who align reading with the essentially passive experience of watching television, they only wish to debase reading and readers. The more accurate analogy is that of the amateur musician placing her sheet music on the stand and preparing to play. She must use her own hard-won skills to play this piece of music. The greater the skill, the greater the gift she gives the composer, and the composer gives her.
This is a conception of “reading” we rarely hear now. And yet, when you practise reading, when you spend time with a book, the old moral of effort and reward is undeniable. Reading is a skill and an art and readers should take pride in their abilities and have no shame in cultivating them if for no other reason than the fact that writers need you. To respond to the ideal writer takes an ideal reader, the type of reader who is open enough to allow into their own mind a picture of human consciousness so radically different from their own as to be almost offensive to reason. The ideal reader steps up to the plate of the writer’s style so that, together, writer and reader might hit the ball out of the park.
What I’m saying is: a reader must have talent. Quite a lot of talent, actually, because even the most talented reader will find much of the land of literature tricky terrain. For how many of us feel the world to be as Kafka felt it, too impossibly foreshortened to ride from one village to the next? Or can imagine a world without nouns, as Borges did? How many are willing to be as emotionally generous as Dickens, or to take religious faith as seriously as did Graham Greene? Who among us have Zora Neale Hurston’s capacity for joy or Douglas Coupland’s strong stomach for the future? Who has the delicacy to tease out Flaubert’s faintest nuance, or the patience and the will to follow David Foster Wallace down his intricate recursive spirals of thought? The skills that it takes to write it are required to read it. Readers fail writers just as often as writers fail readers. Readers fail when they allow themselves to believe the old mantra that fiction is the thing you relate to and writers the amenable people you seek out when you want to have your own version of the world confirmed and reinforced. That is certainly one of the many things fiction can do, but it’s a conjurer’s trick within a far deeper magic. To become better readers and writers we have to ask of each other a little bit more.”
I continue to hope for this kind of reader and, by the same token, I work to make my writing deserve this kind of reader.
Jenny–
In his comment, Don Maass expresses gratitude to Cathy Yardley for “validation.” Please know that after reading your comment, I too feel validated.
I don’t exactly agree that readers must work as hard as writers (James Joyce said he’d spent much of his life writing Finnegan’s Wake, and thought it was perfectly reasonable to expect readers to spend much of theirs figuring it out). But I certainly know that the best books, be they genre, mainstream or literary, are almost always more demanding of the reader than lesser work. That’s because one of the rewards that come from reading really good books is that they require the partnership you speak of. Needing to pay attention is part of the reward.
It’s not necessary to dismiss the importance of emotion. But it is necessary to acknowledge that books worthy of respect for something beyond unit sales are going to ask more of the reader. More than simply being brought to tears, or punching the air in a vicarious moment of triumph.
Jenny,
This is lovely. Thanks for sharing it.
I don’t want to diminish all writing to genre, much as I champion it, much as I adore it. What Zadie describes is a certain sort of reader. I do not disparage people who love Kafka, Dickens, Borges, Flaubert. I admire it. I can appreciate it. And it is a “genre” unto itself, with its own requisite readership. The emotions behind that kind of appreciation is a skillset. It’s a different kind of puzzle — one where the reader appreciates the challenge, who can admire and understand the nuances of the language, and who prides himself on being able to grasp all the intricacies.
This is next-level writing. This is writing for connoisseurs.
Using a restaurant analogy, it’s the difference between people who want to eat at Michelin starred restaurants (which is a combination of both food and atmosphere), and people who want to eat at a funky bistro or hole-in-the-strip-mall-wall Mexican food joint that has the best Oaxaca chicken soup you’ve ever tasted. It’s a difference of experience. It doesn’t make the Michelin fans snobs. It doesn’t make the food-truck fan trashy. Different strokes for different folks. But you do need to understand the appeal behind audiences of either… and it sounds like you do.
I’m glad you recognize your readership, and your writing goals. It sounds like you know where your heart is. Thanks for sharing the great quote!
Jenny and Barry: You are both speaking to me too. I absolutely love the Zadie Smith passage! But I also understand Cathy’s point about the type of reader to enjoy Dickens or Austen (hand goes up for some of my own favorites).
I sometimes fear that the numbers of this sort of reader are dwindling rapidly. As far as genre fiction, I like mine to have depth and texture, and I do appreciate delicacy in the language, not just an emotional zing. You can have it all in a particular book, but the reader might need to wait patiently for that payoff.
SK, I would not necessarily worry about the numbers dwindling. It’s better to have a smaller but more devoted readership than gamble on dilettantes with every offering. For those that truly love literature of that caliber, there are multiple options — including things like Patreon — that you might want to consider. It also ensures that the bar is raised, and that kind of crucible usually creates some extraordinary work. Thank you for the comment!
Thank you, Cathy. I had never heard of Patreon, but I just checked it out. Very interesting!
Cathy, thanks for the response.
I’m not a big one for genre distinctions, to be honest. Kafka, for example, could be both a literary writer or a fantasy or spec fiction writer in today’s terms. The best fiction, for me, is that which supersedes genre distinctions and stands apart as a unique hybrid.
I also think that the kind of reader Zadie Smith described, and that I both aim to be and to write for, is very involved emotionally with his/her reading matter. But, there is, to me, a big difference in the kind of almost-instantaneous, amygdala-driven emotional response that some readers prefer as a way of sublimating personal desires/needs, versus the slower, cortex-driven (motor cortex, sensory cortex, frontal cortex, and prefrontal cortex) emotional response that comes from a deeper comprehension and fuller experience of a story through an appreciation of all aspects of storytelling. To me, the effort/reward continuum is like the difference between a passionate, steamy one night stand versus a longer, meaningful relationship. As with your food analogy, sometimes, we need that quick hit, but it will never leave us sated. That’s just me. And, again, let’s leave out the genre boundaries because we know that there is literary fiction that can leave many cold just as there is genre fiction that can do more than the latest Pulitzer winner. These definitions are for publishers who need to account for hard marketing dollars.
But, you know, I don’t want to digress too much into a sidebar discussion about “how to be a good reader” — though that is a very important discussion for those who want to be good writers, of course. It’s not the main point of your article, I realize. So, I’ll leave off here for now.
LOVE the distinctions you make here!
Sometimes I despair about this stuff, Coach. Which probably sounds dumb. I mean, my stuff’s not even out there yet, right? Oh, don’t get me wrong. Most days, even on those during which I despair, I can get back to work and forget about finding my right readers, etc. In other words, I really don’t worry about it *while* I’m working. Which may sound dumb, too. But I don’t. I just keep writing the book I would want to read. So my own psychographics should give me a leg up when the hunt begins, right?
Well, therein lies the crux of my despair. Allow me to explain. I live, like, in the middle of nowhere. I get to a bookstore maybe four to six times a year (I stop at every indy shop I find on vacations, weekend trips, etc. My wife knows they can’t be passed-by, and makes the appropriate allowances). So I mostly find the books I read online, mostly through recommendations and “the fantasy community.” I usually have two books going at any given time, a fantasy and a non-fantasy (could be any genre or nonfic). I don’t just read fantasy to see what’s going on in my genre (although that’s a part of it). I read fantasy because I freakin’ love it. I agree with Don – it’s the place I feel most confident I’ll find the emotional experience I’m seeking.
Anyway (yeah, I know I haven’t gotten to the despair yet – hang on a sec), because of a post on WU (can’t recall by whom) I signed up for the daily email from BookBub. And I identified my primary interests there as epic fantasy and historical. I pretty much open the email every day (which is big for me – I flush a lot of “routine/junk” emails!). And the top book most every day is an epic fantasy. I read the descriptions, and… I despair. There are SO many of the damn things. And so many start out with: *So-and-so with strange fantasy name* has found out he/she’s *descended from/connected to/ordained to become* the renowned *wizards/kings/druids/earthly-angels* of old. Only he/she can wield the special implement with the funny fantasy name, and save his/her people from the *warlocks/dread sovereign/necromancer* of funny fantasy name evil place.
Then I try to imagine describing my own work in a way that would keep me (my psychographic leg up) from flushing the BookBub email in the six seconds I give it on a given Tues. Price doesn’t get me. Even free has no bearing. Life’s too short to download a book I’ll likely never read (especially when I have a towering TBR stack). If that makes me a snob, I suppose that’s still what I’m up against (a psychographic of fantasy snobs?).
So after I flush my BookBub email, I tell myself that none of that matters. What matters is making today’s scene the very best it can be. And that involves immersion and emotional connection. Even if this damn thing only finds its way to enough readers to buy my Starbucks, I owe it to them (and I do like coffee!).
Thanks for continuing to shine a light, Cathy. You’ve been a big help over the years – no small part of what’s kept me plugging away.
Vaughn! My friend. You have more of an audience than you realize. And don’t look at Bookbub. Seriously. That way lies madness. Bookbub is custom-tailored for a specific sort of readership — the Voracious Reader. They want to consume more, they usually lead the way, and they only have a second to decide whether or not they want to try something. Hence, the more salacious or generic “this is what this is similar to” telegraphing. Also, it’s a deal site. They’re looking to hook people on series.
Your books wouldn’t fit with that sort of marketing, nor should they. Trust me. When you’re ready to roll again, I will help you with marketing. Consider it my oath to you. ;)
Lots to think on!
Hey, Cathy,
Great article, and one that, once again, puts the naysayers (myself included) of 50 Shades in their place. Yes, I was ducking darts at one time, even though my dislike for the book was never motivated by sour grapes. No, I wish EL James all the best. Good for her, I say. :)
Let me start by answering your questions from the bottom of the article.
My work would probably be shelved as contemporary literary fiction, or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. It’s character-driven and examines the frailties of the human condition.
Usually, readers can expect a damaged protag who views the world in a quirky way, all while trying to understand his current situation and better it for everyone involved, somehow. The reader can expect reality — warts and all — and gets involved on a personal level because I address basic fears, doubts, losses, etc. I hate to say “common” issues, because they’re not, but they play on common emotions.
As far as 50 Shades goes, I never reached the point of getting hooked emotionally — of feeling pulled into the story of loving someone who wasn’t available that Don addressed. Yes, I gave it the ol’ college try, knowing it wasn’t my demo-psychographic, because I wanted to see what all the hype was about. I’d heard negative things about it, but went into it open-mindedly. It wasn’t long before I was choking on modifiers.
Even as a “reader,” rather than “writer,” I couldn’t get past the first couple of pages. And as a writer, I gave it several attempts at random places throughout the book and still had difficulty swallowing. I wouldn’t have done that as a mere reader. As a reader and writer, I realized it wasn’t my cup of tea; I was just in disbelief that it was anybody else’s, too.
And I was also in disbelief that it did so well, contrary to everything we’ve been taught. Evidently, first pages — heck, the first 50 pages — aren’t necessarily all that important?
I guess that’s where fanbase, psychographic marketing, and all that jazz comes into play. The word-of-mouth took off and it was akin to an internet trending topic. Everybody had to know, had to see what the hype was about. And once all the talking got started — both good and bad — it was publicity.
But seriously, more power to her. I hope my novels do as well. Great topic!
Mike, it sounds like you’re attuned to what your readers want. Rather than “common” issues, I think “core” might be a better description. Or perhaps “universal.” That is important, and has a lot of strength. I love stories about flawed protagonists with realistic problems but a humorous approach — I try to write those myself, although my core values/emotions are probably different than yours.
I think the first 50 pages — actually the first 10 pages — are very important. But with the right visceral hook, matched the write audience, will overpower that. Which means if your hook and audience aren’t clear and compelling, then your writing must make up the slack. And if you’ve got that compelling hook and it hits the right audience, they will let a lot slide.
Thanks so much for commenting!
I limit my reading to just a few categories and I can’t even begin to read everything I want to. You are so right about not trying to please everybody. Besides, in my experience, “everybody” is pretty much of an idiot. I try to write for real people. Middle Grade Readers and Young Adults, specifically. And I know that I’m not Shakespeare. Heck, we already have him!
Very true… and the world needs a pure Steve Fey, much more than a diluted copy of anybody else. :) Thanks for commenting!
I’d like to add one small point on the subject of emotional resonance, from Buddha.
He tells a parable of a turtle who come to a pond from the ocean.
The turtle is askeb by the frog, “Where did you come from?”
The trutle says, “From the ocean.”
And the frog asks, “what is an ocean?”
Now, that is what makes a story unique: to tell the reader what is an ocean.
Back to the parable, the whole problem of writing and publishing industry is that the writer feels he’s like a turtle who comes to the pond with a book about the ocean.
And he’s asked by the agent, ‘Where did you come from?’
and the writer says, ‘From the ocean.’
And the agent says, ‘What’s an ocean?’ And so here the problem arises.
Now even this question could be answered by the writer, but
the agent has little time.
So almost all agents don’t give the writer time to give an anwer to the question of ‘What is an ocean?’
However, most agent’s ask, ‘have you been to the ocean before?’
If the writer says, ‘yes,’ then he might be welcomed to the pond.
But if he says, ‘no,’ then the agent doesn’t believe in him or his book.
Yet the main point is taht the agents themsevles are like frogs who’ve never been to the ocean, but they do have some pictures of it which they use as a referene. So if a writer comes with new pictures, especially from the unseen parts of the ocean or from hidden treasures in the ocean, the pictures may not be accepted by the agent because they do not look the ones they have as reference.
But if a writer comes from the ocean and says (1) that he has been to the ocean before, and (2) that picture he has are almost the same as the pictures the agents have as reference. Then this writer will be most welcomed t othe pond and his writing wil be published.
Yet the hardest thing in the parable that still remains is to tell the agent what is an ocean.
Some times it’s so hard for the writers, that they start disbeliving in themselves. And they begin to doubt whether what they had seen and wrote about was an ocean or a sea.
Fascinating parable, Sadi. I’d say that when confront with agents who don’t know what the ocean is, lead them gently. Tell them how it’s like the pond, rather than inundate them with the immensity of the ocean. Tell them it’s like the sandy shore that leads to the pond edge — only more so. Tell them that the shape is like the pond, that it’s wet like the pond, it’s a body of water like a pond, animal lives in it and by it like a pond. Keep it in their frame of reference, so they’re open to hearing your story. Then, when they agree, share with them your full experience of the ocean, and see if they fall in love or if they’re just too afraid the salt and immensity are too much for them. But start small, from where they are.
And have faith. Even if they don’t believe it, in your heart, you know it’s an ocean. All the doubt in the world wouldn’t make the Pacific a pond. :)
Excellent post Cathy. You are dead on about the “average” reader being a myth. The truth is different genres have different audiences and you have to play to their expectations. As a reader I’ll forgive poor writing if the emotional content and message of the work resonate with me.
As for trying to please everyone you can’t. Rather than writing for mass appeal instead write to your ideal reader.
As for why certain books become popular while other languish boils down to taste and fair bit of luck. Sure it may feel good to rag on books like Fifty Shades of Grey, it ultimately will drive you insane. Instead you should just focus on writing the best book you can.
“The truth is different genres have different audiences and you have to play to their expectations. As a reader I’ll forgive poor writing if the emotional content and message of the work resonate with me.”
This, exactly this. Resonance tips the balance. Thanks, Tyerone!
CATHY, GREAT POST. You’ve made me a believer in so many ways and shamed me too–because I’ve had those thoughts about other books. I’m taking this lesson to my “emotional” heart.
Comparing (and disparaging) is human. I’ve done it, myself, more than I care to admit. But it’s something I’m working hard to correct, and I think keeping mind that all readers and authors are different, and it’s simply a matter of recognizing that different books resonate with different readers for different reasons. There is no objective “good” and “bad” when it comes to writing, there is only “connected” and “disconnected.” While initially this can seem disgraceful, especially when you “hold yourself to a higher standard”, ultimately it’s freeing. You lose the sense of “oh my God, I suck!” and gain a sense of closeness with your audience, rather than wary apprehension of your peers and critics. It’s good for all authors. :) Thanks for commenting!
A great post that gave me a lot to think about…and a little bit of a smack upside the head for my disparaging thoughts of the past. While never thought in a begrudging way regarding someone’s success for a “crappy book,” I now see the error of my ways. Basically, I don’t have any right to decide what provides emotional impact for someone else. Even if something seems like “poor writing” in my opinion, it may still provide someone with just what they need. Who am I to judge?
Thanks for the thought-provoking article, Cathy!
That’s true that you don’t have the right to decide what provides emotional impact for someone else. You CAN still reserve the right though to think it’s crap, without there needing to be any judgment on you either :)
Thought provoking post. Thanks!
Nicely put.
Especially, “friendzoned” is going to be my new summary of that sour grapes complaint writers can make. Because writing *should* be a proper relationship with the reader, and complaining that our work’s been ignored or blocked by “other things” is a poor cover for what’s really going on. A given reader wants what they want, and we should be looking for the ones that match what we’re offering.
Wonderful article that hit the nail on the head, and the comments are every bit as meaningful as the post itself. This has been a huge thorn in my paw ever since I’ve released my works. I think the emotional aspect to the book, rather than genre specific, is probably the best way to ferret out readers for your books.
I have a collection of dark erotica books that include high level kink. When I joined a Goodreads group called Dark Erotica, I thought I’d hit the nail on the head with finding appropriate readers.
Here’s what I quickly learned: just because it’s a group that touts themselves as lovers of dark erotica does NOT mean they will cop to the dark kink in your books. Some members like dark, but not necessarily the odd kink. Also, many of the members want the same old tropes and run-of-the-mill erotic romances that are churned out daily. They do NOT want the odd, unusual, off-the-beaten path, way-out-there books that you may have written. Therefore, the books will find a better audience who loves kink.
For my latest release, the book will appeal more to readers who like supernatural romantic suspense. There are some mystery elements as well as a spooky vibe. It would not fit into a suspense category that’s comprised of chasing bad guys or the usual mystery lover who wants to know “who dunnit?” It’s not a horror novel, either.
I get so tired of the vague comment: write a good book. What does that mean?? Find your readers. What does that mean? (Cathy just added a better way of answering that question). Your book needs to contain these emotional elements and character arcs, etc. What does that mean? And what if I think my book already does that? As the author, I already think it does those things, though beta readers and a good editor will squash all that in a heartbeat.
Overall, I love that this article fleshed out at least a gold nugget of, hey, maybe you need to quit worrying so much about genre and focus on the emotional facets of your book. Great article! That’s why WU has become my go-to site for information.
What a great discussion this post has opened up! It’s sort of an age-old discussion, one Dickens himself would have been interested in, probably, except that he wouldn’t have had time to join in because he was so busy writing the kind of books people actually wanted to read.
I wish we could talk less about categories (literary vs. genre, for example, being one that I think causes more angst than it has to). I’ve been reading around in “horse-lovers’ books” since my two republished ebooks are horse-racing suspense, and I’ve found tremendous variety: “genre” stories that intrigue me as well as more “literary” examples. I’ve found that what attracts me in any genre or non-genre but that often seems more visible in the more “literary” end of the spectrum is “surprise.” I’m just reading two reasonably well-received indie pubs and wishing that the writers had reached just a little more for language and ideas that I hadn’t seen a thousand times before. Note that I’m not referring to “emotions,” but ways of letting me share those emotions. When the prose in genre becomes truly “generic” (cliched?), I start skimming. Can’t help it. When the plot turns announce themselves from page 2, I often can’t finish.
Now I know, having studied captial L literature all my life as an English major, that audiences have always loved familiar forms, familiar voices, familiar proverbs and legends. I think that’s where the love for series and genre often comes in. I, too, look forward to another Steve Cline horse mystery (by Kit Ehrman) because in only two books I’ve come to know that I’ll get a story similar to those I’ve enjoyed before. But at the same time, I like the series because it couches its emotional pull in ways that I can’t completely predict. In more literary works (for example, I guess National Velvet would now be considered “literary” by many criteria), I do have to do a little extra work, but the freshness of the look I get into the emotions I’m experiencing makes the effort worth it. I can’t help wishing many of the indie and genre authors I’ve been reading would reach a little more for this kind of newness, of letting me see things I wouldn’t have seen without their guidance. I’ve tried to touch on some of these issues in my blog, Just Can’t Help Writing. It’s n age-old question I certainly haven’t solved.
But I think there are many great books out there that manage to blend a “literary” approach to language with deep emotion. Ann Patchett certainly comes to mind. So does Sarah Waters. Tana French. And the other writers named in one of the responses above. These writers do it all, and that is what I aspire to.
BTW, WordPress often eats my comments. I try to remember to Ctrl-A and Ctrl-C before trying to post. Maddening.
Love this post, Cathy. I tend to talk in terms of demographics probably because I hadn’t heard of the concept, until reading this post, of psychographics. I need to study that more. Thanks for the introduction of this topic.