Saturday, January 20, 2007

Theory #1: The Unsuccessful Debut

Apart from the overall mission of 101 Reasons (seeking to convince the comma-deprived that the ability to delude themselves does not indicate a talent for fiction), there's an underlying agenda: to determine, through analysis, conjecture and good old-fashioned finger-pointing, why the majority of people who call themselves "writers" couldn't even plagiarise a good novel, let alone write one.

Inevitably, some patterns will emerge out of the semirandom blatherings of the clueless keyboardists. Common strands of craptacularity connecting the chronically cliched. Reasons refined, tested and trialed, and tied together into theories.

Our first theory explores the old question of why some adequate, even good novels just don't succeed - in the submission stage, or in the marketplace. For the sake of argument, we're going to assume that the reason is not related to some previously undetected dreadfulness.

The 101 Reasons Theory of the Unsuccessful Debut:

You Don't Understand Why Readers Buy Debut Novels

(Reasons #1 and #6 touched on this, and Poll #1 demonstrated part of it.)

Sure, you think you know why you buy books. And you probably think you can deconstruct that into a checklist of component parts, and write the "perfect" novel, the novel someone like you is certain to buy. Of course, the world is full of people just like you, silently yearning for such a book to free them from the tyranny of unfamiliar literature. You just never seem to meet them.

You might think you understand why [Famous Author] is successful. You buy every new book by [Famous Author], and you figure other people probably buy them for the same, or equivalent, reasons. [Famous Author] has lines around the block at book signings, surely those fans would like something else to read while they're waiting.

And you really understand the appeal of [Genre]. You buy a lot of [Genre] books. You hang out in [Genre] bookstores, you go to [Genre] conventions. Most of your friends are [Genre] addicts too, and the ones that aren't have told you to shut the fsck up about it already. 

So you think you can write a book that [Genre] fans will like, particularly fans of [Famous Author], and especially the unseen millions of readers with exactly your taste.

This understanding, no matter how accurate, is useless when it comes to writing your debut (and until you're published, every novel you write is your debut).

There is one, and only one, target market for debut authors: Readers who will take a chance on buying debut authors. Those eternally optimistic homebodies who aspire to work in a bookstore, diligently maintain their LibraryThing, and zealously defend their Amazon.com Top 1000 Reviewer status. They buy and read books as if a cracked spine released a hit of crystal meth. They are so disenchanted with the real world that they'd rather spend a few hours in yours.

Unlike most book buyers, they don't wait for some external condition to be met (bestseller status, good reviews, word of mouth, etc). They crave the thrill of finding the next [Famous Author], and are prepared to drop hundreds of dollars a year on random debut novels looking for them.

They make, and break, new books and authors. I don't know exactly how this happens, though I'd dearly love to, as would most of the publishing industry.  

(The downside is in what these readers don't buy - or rather, what doesn't get the boost of their early support. It's likely there are great books, authors, even small sub-genres, that don't sell because the readers who would enjoy them don't buy enough new books. If there's any "conspiracy" in publishing, it's this side-effect of a capricious marketplace.)

They don't (by themselves) make bestsellers, but if your first book isn't discovered by these dedicated shelf explorers, you may not get to publish a second one. Instead you'll be stuck whining to the few fans you did make about how your publisher didn't get behind the book, your agent negotiated a crappy deal, booksellers only want to sell the big names, [Famous Author] stole your idea, blah blah blah, and begging anyone left listening to buy your bottom drawer of unsold novels POD.

If you're not one of these voracious risk-taking consumers, then you don't know what type (and standard) of debut novel publishers are currently willing to gamble on, and you don't know what these readers want and expect. But more importantly, you're not in the target market for your own book.

We'll delve deeper into this theory at a later date.