How to Write Fiction That’s Fresh
By Cathy Yardley | August 3, 2018 |
My agent recently had a confab with a number of editors in New York, all from various houses. I can’t tell you the details of which house wants what (she’d kill me) but I can say this: what everyone is looking for is something fresh. They want the unique, the immersive, and the truly different.
There are a few catches to this.
First: in the nineteen years I’ve been professionally writing, editors have always said they wanted something fresh. No acquiring editor in their right mind is going to say “you know, give me the same-old, same-old.”
Second: in many cases, they are lying. They want fresh, and different, absolutely – but not too different. (Often what they really want is a slightly different version of some fresh and successful thing that came out recently.)
Third: when you’re writing genre, especially now, coming up with something that hasn’t been done before is a tough gig, indeed.
So how do you do this? How do you come out with something that’s going to wow with its originality and verve?
Know the clichés and pitfalls.
Being fresh and original depends largely on being different than existing material. If you haven’t read widely in your genre, its hard to say whether publishing professionals or the reading audience at large would consider your premise original or not. Research other books being published. Read every day. If you don’t have a huge budget, get friendly with your local library. From there, see what patterns crop up. For example, after Gone Girl became a huge hit, the edgy, unreliable narrator became a trend that got perhaps oversaturated.
Read outside your genre.
Once you have a handle on the clichés or overused trends of a genre, I’ve found it helps to read outside of the genre for inspiration and originality. I write contemporary romance and women’s fiction. That said, I can adore the high drama of YA, the delicious wording of magical realism, and I can admire the love stories in high fantasy. Kristin Cashore’s YA masterpiece Graceling has romance secondary, but it’s still swoon-worthy. And Patrick Rothfuss’s The Wise Man’s Fear has a will-they/won’t-they romance that, while frustrating, still teaches a lot about how to show sexual and romantic tension.
Polish up your prose.
From a sheer literary standpoint, I think reading poetry helps with making deliberate word choices. I also have a few go-to keeper novels that I read for the joy of their pages, regardless of plot. (And as a die-hard plotter, that’s saying something!) I re-read William Gibson’s Pattern Recognition at least once a year, as well as Erin Morgenstern’s The Night Circus, and Sally Thorne’s The Hating Game way more often than that. They make me envy turns of phrase. They push me to be more inventive. Original, innovative writing, even with a cliché plot, can still make something fresh.
Dig deeper.
I was at a workshop with our own Donald Maass, years ago, when he said to write down a list of twenty-five (I think? It might have been fifty) things that the character could do in a given situation. The first ten or twenty, he pointed out, would be clichés – way too predictable, too easy. After that, you’d start getting to the juicy stuff. The harder it was to come up with, the more original it would probably be. Sure, there would be a lot of misfires and bad ideas, but you only need one to be gold, and you’d need to, pardon the pun, dig for it.
Look for a different viewpoint
A Western is a Western is a Western, right? Not so. I was fortunate enough to take a class on Western films in college, and we saw them all, it seemed – the good, bad, and ugly. (Sorry! But the pun was sitting right there!) We saw the uber-masculinity of John Wayne in numerous roles. We saw classics like High Noon and Rio Bravo. We saw Clint Eastwood become the anti-hero foil in spaghetti Westerns before directing the genre-flaying Unforgiven.
But my favorite movie, which I learned was based on a novel by Ruthanne Lum McCunn, was Ten Thousand Pieces of Gold. The main character is Lalu, a Chinese woman sold by her family to be a bride (in reality, a prostitute) to a Chinese merchant in Idaho. The story of how she creates her own path and gains her own autonomy in the Wild West is a fascinating one – definitely a Western, albeit nowhere near the traditional.
Telling stories with more diversity brings more depth to the genre and to the world. Looking for alternate characters and viewpoints guarantees freshness and originality.
Don’t be different for the sake of being different.
With all this talk of being fresh, there is one caveat: don’t be unique simply to show off how unique you’re being. That’s not story craft, that’s shock factor, and it fails more often than it succeeds. Even if editors are clamoring for something fresh, they still want the foundation of a solid story with a clear character arc (or at least characters they are drawn to, if you’re writing literary fiction.)
Like so many other aspects of writing, writing fresh is a simple concept, but hardly easy. That said, once it’s accomplished, you’ll find that the rewards are exponential.
Coming up with something fresh is an ideal worth pursuing. What will you do to inject some freshness into your work-in-progress or future projects?
Great post, Cathy. I write middle-grade historical fiction, focusing on the military. I try to find the “hidden” history that hasn’t been beaten to death in books and film. My first book is about a Navy brat’s struggle to lead his family after losing his father aboard the USS Scorpion in 1968 (the last sub the US lost at sea). My current book is about a young Filipino girl in 1942 who finds herself caught up in the guerilla resistance against the Japanese. For most children, events like WW2 happened to US soldiers in the Pacific and Europe. Our history books skip over things like the three year occupation of the Philippines. I could write 100 books about these little-known conflicts and the children involved.
A book that opened my eyes recently was not historical, however. Listen, Slowly is a book by Thanhha Lai about a young girl in current-day California who travels to Vietnam with her family (and, being a good teenager, she mopes about leaving her friends for the summer) to find her grandfather who disappeared during The War. For those of us who grew up thinking of Vietnam as a backwater, brutal Communist country, it is a beautiful picture of the people of Vietnam and how they see their history. They are poor, of course (it is, after all, still a Communist country), but they find happiness despite it all. I highly recommend it for my middle-grade and YA colleagues.
Thanks for the post!
Writing about the little known or little discussed in history is a great idea. I still remember reading Farewell to Manzanar in junior high and being shocked that something like that, the internment camps, could happen in the U.S. It’s good to learn more than just the highlights. And I’ll definitely look at Listen, Slowly since I’ve still got a lot of family over in Vietnam. Thanks for commenting!
Love this, Cathy. I can attest to publishers wanting ‘the same, but different’ (whatever the heck that is).
Great tips. Thanks for the reminder!
It IS frustrating, isn’t it? Honestly, one of the best parts of self-publishing is being able to cater to readers’ tastes directly! Thanks for commenting! :)
Cathy, great tips. Alas, I’ve learned that publishers don’t always want something that’s overly fresh. It’s frustrating but I’m learning. So happy to be able to do a combination of traditional and self-publishing.
I’m with you on that lesson, Vijaya. I enjoy hybrid publishing more at this point, myself.
Hey Coach, I’m glad I read this today. Because, yeah – the pub biz… It’s like a jungle sometimes; It makes me wonder how I keep from goin’ under.
Ahem. Seriously, I sometimes worry about the “freshness” of a premise and world I first imagined fifteen years ago. And whether it’s dumb of me to keep laboring away on it. It obviously felt fresh to me then. And honestly? It still feels fresh to me. I suppose if not I’d have “gone under” a long time ago.
What you’ve shown me here today is that there are still plenty of ways to strive for freshness. I may be a bit of a relic, but I damn-well can aspire to be a relevant relic. Thanks, as always, for your very fresh outlook, Cathy.
Actually, your shieldmaidens are more relevant now than ever, my friend. You are hardly a relic. Keep the faith, and keep writing!
Thanks, Cathy. All good reminders!
Thanks for commenting! :)
Quick note from me as we’re headed out the door, but I love your advice today, Cathy, and wanted to say so. Thanks!
I’m so glad you liked it, Therese! :)
This is such a great article! I shared with my readers on FB and I’m tucking it away to read again later. Love the advice about brainstorming a list of 25ish character actions or reactions, then tossing aside the first handful because they’re likely cliche. And so true that agents/editors want something different, but not *too* different.
All great advice, but I especially love the “dig deeper” and “different perspective” sections!