Friday, November 11, 2011

Read any good books lately?

I had a lively debate with another writer a few days ago.  It all started with a recounting of two widely respected and beloved authors ridiculing the work of another bestselling but (newer, younger...what's the word) author's take on the same subject.

It's not important to go into any of the specifics of who the parties were or what the subject matter was because the argument transcends the topic.  The gist of the argument was that the new author's work was not a valid expression because it was "bad writing".

Well, who are either of those authors to decide what's good writing and what isn't?  Who am I or the other author with whom I was arguing.  Before you hit me with the obvious...yeah, I know there's a line.  The reality star who got a multibook deal...I read her stuff and it's so godawfully bad that I kept reading it because I couldn't comprehend something so awful, with such glaring errors in style and grammar, with no redeeming qualities of plot or character could actually  make it out of this girl's hot pink laptop and onto the shelf at Wal-Mart.

But the obvious clowns aside, who is to say what is a "bad" book and what is a "good" book.  Sales certainly tell us what the readers think.  I think a million copies flying off the shelves is a pretty good indicator that the material is being enjoyed by more than a fringe niche.  And a volume that actually makes it out of a publishing house and into a real-live bookstore only to wind up with three, manky bargain stickers on its poor, battered cover six months down the line must tell us, at least in part, that the public is not interested in the story being told.

Of course sales figures alone cannot claim to separate the stories that ought to be read and those that should never have made it past the slush pile.  Good writing must have characters about whom the reader cares, a plot in which the reader finds themselves invested, conflict that keeps the reader turning pages and a climax that makes the reader really sorry that they've reached the end.

Thing is...there's a whole bunch of stories out there and a whole bunch of different readers. 

My whole family (three generations of 'em) are all voracious readers, and we've a lot of the same titles in our collections which argues the point that there is a firm standard of good writing.


There's also a whole bunch of books on my shelf that my daughter wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, same thing with me and her shelf.  My husband wouldn't be caught dead with half the stuff either one of us reads and my mother (with whom my reading tastes are most compatible) even had a singular taste in her own well-worn favorites.

My point with my friend was that there is an audience out there for pretty much any book.  She wasn't crazy about that idea, but I think it's great.  It's great for the writers and it's great for the readers.  It's unfair for all readers to be expected to only embrace the classics, to only be given the choice of one mythology for their favorite fantasies.  It's a much more pleasing thing to get out there to the library or the bookstore (or...*deep sigh*...browsing the Kindle or iTunes e-book selections) and find an author whose voice seems to be tailor-made for that reader's taste.  It's a little like falling in love, often with much longer lasting relationships and lots less disappointment.

As for the writers, perhaps my attitude is colored by my quest to get published, hoping...feeling certain...that there is an agent, a publisher, and audience for my books.  I'd be an egomaniacal fool if I believed for a second that my work will be universally loved and revered by everyone who reads it.  But I think it's perfectly reasonable to believe that with continued work, optimism, and determination I will find the perfect fit that will enable me to get my stories into readers hands, readers who will enjoy them and be left wanting more. 

Not every novel is a candidate for the National Book Award, and that's okay.  Just because a work isn't traditional, conventional or even (god help me) perfectly well written doesn't mean it isn't a good book.  It doesn't mean the story is without merit or that it isn't enjoyable.

At the end, this is a debate with no end in sight.  I feel pretty confident throwing that out there, because I had nearly the exact same debate about twenty five years ago when the older, highly revered author my friend was defending so vigorously was a fairly new commodity.  He was ridiculed when he was new, and even after his work caught on and every book he wrote sold a grillion copies, critics still found fault with him.  I offered the same argument then:

There is an audience for just about every author, and that is a good thing.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Janet Reid's Amazing Story Contest

I entered another one of Janet Reid (Literary Agent and Query Critic par-excellence). 

It's the second such foray I've made into the world of competitive writing.  It's a wonderful excercise in discipline--the submissions are limited to 100 words or fewer and each has had a list of words the entrant is required to use in their story. 

Waiting to see if I've won is a cheap thrill, and I get practice at handling rejection where the stakes are much lower than when I'm waiting to hear back from my queries.

I'm on the lookout for more of these opportunities.  They are so helpful on a personal and professional level and any other writers reading this (Hellooooo *echos*) would be well served to join in.

Here's my second entry.  The contest can be found at

“C’mon, baby…what is this amazing thing?  Just gimmee a hint.” 
Tara laughed, the fringe around her d├ęcolletage shimmying.  Pauly was instantly transfixed. 
She raised an eyebrow.  “What, did we start the countdown to your birthday already?”
“Nah, I just wanna know.”  He pulled Tara closer, biting her earlobe.  “You get me that Wee Willie Smith jersey?”
“Will Smith?”
“Nah you wackadoo, the old New York Rens guy.”  Pauly stared into her eyes.  They twinkled like Argo on a cloudless night.  “Okay here’s something amazing.  How ‘bout you truck on downstairs and make me a sandwich if you’re gonna tease me.”

*Follow Up:
The results are in and...I didn't make the cut this time either *sigh*


I got noticed for my guess as to what the Amazing thing we'd want to see would be...and got a picture of The Rental Cat that I'd asked for, so that in itself was a minor thrill.

So, back to the grindstone.....


Starting over...what the hell?  Had a nice, little thing going with my little not-blog over at the place with the thing.  For anyone who's interested (Filip, I'm talking to you) it's still out there like everything ever put out on the internet and you can view it here ( )  Everything's fine and dandy, then all of a doesn't work anymore.  All the other crap works...but

Ah, who gives a shit?  I've got one follower and he probably doesn't give any more of a shit than the other 7 billion people who don't follow.  And what the hell are they following anyway?

I gotta figure out how to use this thing more effectively.  That's my homework for the day.  Prowl around this blogger deal and look at the people in my line of work who use their blogs as more than a public diary or a load of word-vomit.

'Til then...