Your Book is Always New
By Greer Macallister | February 6, 2023 |
I’ve been messing up for years now.
I mean, we all make mistakes, obviously. Big ones and small ones, writing-related and otherwise. But the mistake I’ve recently realized is very much related to my publishing career. And now that I’ve vowed to turn over this leaf for myself, I want to shout from the rooftops–to help others, let’s say, turn over their own leaves.
Here’s the thing: it’s an easy mistake to make. If you’ve been lucky–and hard-working and persistent and stubborn and talented and about 83 other things, but especially lucky–enough to write and publish more than one book, your newest book is pretty much always the one topmost in your mind. After all, in some sense, you have to put the others behind to focus on the newest one. If you’re lucky (again, and other adjectives here) enough to write under contract with a publisher, the schedule on which you write the new book is dictated, and then when the book comes out, promotion happens right around one big On Sale date, a brief window where your book is New.
So I’m not beating myself up about it, but for years, when I’ve introduced myself to new people as an author and they ask what I write, I start talking about my newest book. Sometimes it’s the most recent to come out, and sometimes it’s the one that’s coming out next, depending on where I am in the cycle.
Hi, I’m Greer, I write books! What kind of books? Well, my new book Arca, the second in a fantasy series that’s kind of like a matriarchal Game of Thrones, comes out in March!
And I have finally realized, while that’s exactly the right answer for a publishing crowd, it’s almost meaningless to civilians.
People I meet at my kids’ school, or at a fondue party, or at the endodontist’s office, or wherever, don’t care about a specific book of mine. They don’t care about what’s new. I shouldn’t be focusing on that particular book. And if you have multiple books, and someone asks you about your work, you shouldn’t focus on your newest/latest book either.
Don’t tell them what you’ve written. Tell them what you write.
What I mean by that is, don’t start with specific titles. If you write in multiple genres, you don’t even need to start with genre, either. I write both historical fiction and epic fantasy, and the deeper I dive into one or the other of those, the more tempted I am to start listing titles, which is right about when people’s eyes start to glaze over.
Hi, I’m Greer, I write books! What kind of books? Novels about extraordinary women.
That isn’t where it ends, but that’s where it starts. Sometimes, that may be enough to trigger a follow-up question. If not, I could talk next about genre, or specific titles. I could ask the other person a question about what they like to read, and go from there. I could say that sometimes I draw inspiration from real-life figures, like Kate Warne, and ask if they know her story. I could talk about my matriarchal epic fantasy series, including the book that’s coming out next month–but only after setting the stage with the broader description.
Because in the real world, by which I mean not the publishing world, your new book is no more important than any of your other books. Unless they’re very likely to have heard of your newest book because you’re, I don’t know, Tana French or something, the title isn’t going to ring a bell. Tell them who you are as an author. Then go from there to introduce your most relevant book to the conversation depending on who you’re talking to. It’ll be more natural. And your new friend might even be more likely to look up your book if you make an effort to connect.
Q: Do you fall into the trap of always focusing on your newest book when talking to new people? If not, how else do you approach these conversations?
This is a smart suggestion, Greer: Introduce the brand and what it stands for, rather than reciting the product’s specific ingredients. I used to have a hard time answering the “what do you write” Q, in part because people outside of the business don’t understand “women’s fiction” as a brand. I now say that I write “delayed coming-of-age stories.” Not only is it true, it’s different enough that people might start to question what that could look like in a story, and then the conversation can evolve (or not) from there! Thanks for the post!
Excellent advice, Greer. It really is too easy to let the newest book fool us into thinking we’re talking to a prepared bookseller crowd or a longtime fan, who are all cued up to jump on the latest thing. Most of the time we need a proper conversation that finds its own way along — or, even giving in a presentation, we need to start from Square One and earn our way to justifying the books.
(Plus, it’s rarely a good idea to start with pitching Book 2 of anything. Better to approach the series as a whole and where the reader can start it, and keep “and it just got a new volume” as part of the general energy we give it.)
Most of all, I want to thank you for that personal tagline: “books about extraordinary women.” Every author should have something like that, a prepared way to break the ice again and again (except at some event where we need something more specific) that can lead into the engagement we need from someone. We’re writers — why would we try to get a conversation started on our own when we could have the opening line ready?
Very good advice! While I hadn’t thought it through this coherently, I’ve discovered the wisdom in it since my first novel released (2013… oh gosh, ten years ago). Usually in the casual situations when the subject of my writing comes up I’m talking to people who might like to read but have never heard of me or my books (or think they might have… perhaps just being polite). So I answer the question “What sort of books do you write?” with “Historical fiction.” Depending on their answer I’ll get into more specifics like time period, setting, history, issues, themes, but rarely specific titles. Often I’m asked about my research, so I might pick a subject from a specific title (like the failed State of Franklin) and ask if they’ve ever heard of it. Eventually it might come down to me diving into my shoulder bag and pulling out a bookmark printed with the covers of nearly my entire back list.
Excellent post! The industry has drilled it into a writer’s head that after six months, your book no longer matters. Of course, they mean regarding sales. But I think we tend to let that nonsense spill over into our self worth as writers. That’s what we call in the South, stinkin’ thinkin’.
Writers, especially those who self publish, are now re-releasing their early books. After a decade or two they know they’re a much better writer. An author can take that manuscript, make changes, and re-release it.
Even change the cover. The fact is, as far as the public is concerned, it’s a new book. You obviously state that it’s a newer version, but does Connie Jo across the street care about that? No.
It’s like I’ve posted on WU many times. Options have exploded for writers. We are no longer bound by industry rules. Use those that work, throw the rest out. Find your own path.
Hello Greer. I understand what you’re saying. It makes good sense for a known career writer to present herself more broadly, rather than in terms of her latest book. But it doesn’t apply to someone like me who is not a known career writer. “When I introduced myself to new people as a writer….” Even though I think of myself as a writer (along with many other things–husband, neighbor, stepfather, dog owner), I would never introduce myself to others that way. Especially to someone new. Those I know and am likely to meet would probably see being guided to ask me questions about my writing as ludicrous, even off-putting. Their likely reaction would be “you and half the others here.” I try to get people to talk about their favorite subject, themselves, or their families, pets. If, though, someone thinks to ask me about myself, I might mention my writing. It would depend on the moment and the other person. Now knowing something about her, I would have a fair idea of whether, at the mention of novel-writing, she was likely to lapse into a coma. If so, we could get back to talking about Fido and Rover.
Your perspective is intriguing, Greer. You’ve got me thinking. Yes, people do gloss over when I talk about a book, specific characters, or plot threads. How can someone connect with something they know zero about? Instead, I should think in terms of what gets me excited about my books–at the core.
I am fascinated by that crazy stage between teen and adult–being twenty-something and discovering who you are, who you want to be, how the world works, and why you think the world doesn’t work. I love how this stage is often the start of immense curiosity, discovery, and potential.
Now that I think about it (thanks to you), I realize I get quite enthusiastic when I reveal these core interests, and the person I’m sharing with usually relates or connects with my enthusiasm.
I’m going to think further on this. Thanks for the spark!
Hugs
Dee
Love this advice, Greer. You’ve given me wonderful inspiration as I get more and more questions about my work in progress questions. (Q’s: What’s my books about? Do I have a pen name? When can they read it?; A’s: Life. Not yet. Someday). I love the question, “What do you like to read?” Such and easy and obvious way to invites people into conversation and learn what excites them or bores them or makes them put a book back on the shelf. I expect most people will forget me long before they find a book with my name or muse name on it. But when that great day comes? WoW. I’m certain the story will have been enriched through those thoughts and conversations. And I’ll feel much more confident and comfortable having them. It is a giant leap of faith the first time someone asked ‘what do you do,’ and I said ‘I’m write fiction” knowing the next question would be “What books have your written.” How great to say, “It’s a work in progress.” What’s your favorite story?” or “What do you love to read?” Such a great way to create community between readers and storytellers. P.S. Loving ‘Scorpia’ and looking forward to more.
Good advice that I’ve never thought of before! Thanks.
I’ve noticed several times that unless my new acquaintance is also a writer, he or she does get that glassy look when I try to tell them what I do. They’re picturing Richard Castle and they’re talking to Joe Schmednik. I think fondly of Isaac Asimov. People would say, “Where do you get your ideas?” And he would say, “By thinking very hard for a long time.”
I’ve been saving this piece and finally got around to reading it today. SO worthwhile–thank you for this great advice!
I unknowingly followed it a few days ago when I met a new neighbor. When I said I’m a writer and got the question, I told him “Normally I write goofy humor, but I set that aside to work on a biographical project.” Follow-up questions ensued.