Why Do Authors Diss Other Authors?

model-2748342_1920
Credit: Gerd Altman

You know what’s hot right now, other than global warming? Tearing down your peers in order to promote your new book! And it’s not new authors, desperate for any kind of media coverage they can get – these are well-established authors who all seem to be hopping on the latest controversy bandwagon. But why are they doing it? Does it result in more sales or is a just a ploy to get your name ‘out there’?

For a while there, it seemed like a queue of predominantly white male authors were awaiting their turn to declare that the novel (as they knew it) was dead. Will Self being the most vocal (who even is he??!). It was all a bit pathetic really – writers bemoaning the fact that their work was no longer relevant and choosing to denounce the younger generation for their lack of taste rather than accept that their books mightn’t be as good as they thought they were. Or that, like the rest of us mere mortals, their books have no  guarantee of a warm reception.

Irish author Colm Tóibín recently told a Guardian interviewer: “I can’t do thrillers and I can’t do spy novels.”  

Asked which books he felt were most overrated, he said: “I can’t do any genre-fiction books, really, none of them. I just get bored with the prose. I don’t find any rhythm in it. It’s blank, it’s nothing; it’s like watching TV.”

So clearly, Colm has read ALL THE BOOKS and they’re all boring. Thanks for that Colm, inspirational.

Poor old John Banville can only write ‘genre’ under a pseudonym, lest his good name and reputation be besmirched by popular fiction. It’s a form of snobbery, looking down one’s nose at other writers, and readers for that matter. Like the ‘real book’ brigade who scoff at eBooks and their readers. Like, get over yourself and the delusion that you are the sole arbiter of good taste. By dismissing things that people enjoy, you are dismissing them and what matters to them. And to me, this seems a very foolish thing to do.

The most recent author to diss an entire genre is Louise Doughty, when she told The Guardian (why is it always The Guardian?) “I can’t bear anything chicklitty or girly.”

Wow. Can’t bear it, eh? Any book in particular, or just every book written by a woman who has been classified under the broadest commercial fiction genre EVER? Now, everyone is entitled to their opinion, but such an established writer must be aware of how dismissive this sounds to her peers? How many years have female authors been fighting this exact kind of stigma associated with chick lit? It’s a marketing tag, that has unfortunately sidelined contemporary romcoms  written by women as vacuous, vapid and unimportant. The definition of chick lit is ‘a heroine-centred narrative‘, so far so brilliant, and luckily for us fans, promotes a whole plethora of styles, voices and subject matter. In fact, categorising novels by a single criterion is such a reductive exercise anyway, the dismissive tone used by this authors is at best, unhelpful.

I also think the media has a lot to answer for here. If an author is asked their opinion, they have every right to give it. It was the editor’s choice to pick that one quote from the interview and run it as click-bait on all social media platforms. And this seems to be the way of it now – the newspaper takes the most inflammatory line from an article, tweets it and watches the book world have a meltdown. And that my friends, is marketing.

But in case you were thinking literary authors were safe from all this criticism, think again. Sally Rooney has committed a cardinal sin – the worst thing you can do in literary fiction – she has sold a lot of books. It’s one thing garnering critical acclaim, but to be successful in the monetary sense can risk the loss of your member’s card to the ‘serious’ literary writers club. Will Self (him again!) ‘bravely’ took it upon himself to put her back in her place by labelling her writing as ‘lacking ambition’, lest she go getting any ideas that she might have earned her place among the literati. Fortunately we have men like him to save us from our own bad taste.

Irish author Catherine Ryan Howard has her finger on the pulse and her tongue firmly in her cheek with this latest tweet:

 

So is this the future for authors? A newspaper article in which they upset not only their fellow authors, but the millions of readers who enjoy their books?  And while everyone has the right to speak their mind, it is the contrivance to cause controversy that seems to be the PR drug of choice these days. To me, it just makes people look arrogant and insecure. I’ve always been taught that people who try to make you feel small are only doing it so they can feel big. Authors dismissing other genres must have some dire need to feel important, or to be seen as superior, i.e. someone whose work matters. But newsflash, we all matter and a bit of diplomacy goes a long way.

We are all creatures of habit and of course we tend to gravitate to certain styles of writing and subject matter. There is nothing wrong with that and there is nothing wrong with not liking a book. Art is subjective. But when does it stop being an opinion and start being derisory? Good critique is backed up by fact and reason (like books where the characters are under-developped, for example) but generalisations that have no real basis tell us nothing constructive. The truth is, there are crap writers and crap books everywhere. There are crap literary books, crap self-published books, crap traditionally published books, crap YA books, crap detective novels, crap books by men, crap books by women … but to give one broad sweep of criticism to any of these categories is just ignorant and lazy.

I have always found the writing community to be supportive and always remember the first time I read another saying that there is room enough for all of us. We don’t have to compete by putting one another down. Most readers, like myself, read across genres, so in the long run, it’s probably wiser to big up your fellow authors rather than risk alienating your audience. Your readership could well overlap. But just on a human level, as Michelle Obama once said, when they go low, we go high!

Tired of Trends?

giphy (26)

Whoever said variety is the spice of life obviously knew nothing about the publishing industry.  For women’s fiction (that infuriating term) it seems the pendulum has swung wildly to the opposite extreme from the nineties Chick Lit obsession, to a dark and disturbing landscape of Grip Lit, full of domestic violence, rape, child abuse and murder.  It seems writers (or is it publishers?) are going for the most controversial themes and pushing them to their limits, with stark covers and blurbs that will grab you by the throat.  And it would appear that the demand is limitless, as was seen at the recent London Book Fair.

Many publishers were less happy with the continued demand for psychological thrillers, or “grip-lit” in the mould of Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl or Louise Doughty’s Apple Tree Yard. Across LBF’s packed halls, editors and agents were agreed that the genre has peaked.

One agent, who did not want to be named for fear of upsetting lucrative clients, said: “We really needs to move on, but no one has come up with anything to replace it.”

But agent Jonny Geller of Curtis Brown was pessimistic about the prospect of readers becoming bored of grip-lit any time soon. Working 18 months ahead of what book buyers see on shelves means publishers are always first to call the end of a trend, he said: “Readers still want psychological thrillers, even though we’re all really tired of them.”

The Guardian

But what is the attraction?  And why does it feel as though someone has lifted a stone and millions of psychological thriller writers have emerged, blinking and dazed, into the daylight?

Let’s start with the readers.  “If you cry, you buy” is another trite dictum used by Geller to explain the demand for the ‘weepfest novel’, the only other game in town, equating tears with cash.  He has me there though, I love a good old cry.  The emotional release is oddly pleasing and I imagine it’s similar for fans of crime fiction and the disturbingly titled ‘domestic noir’.   It’s clear that we love a bit of a scare every now and again.  Horror movies, ghost trains at the funfair, European politics – they all serve to give us the feeling of fear, but in a controlled environment.  It’s okay to read a scary book because if it gets too much, you can just close the covers and throw it under the bed (or stick it in the freezer like Joey with The Shining).  Fiction gives us the means to explore the things that scare us… but only as far as our imaginations and our experiences allow.  I’m not sure what current trends say about society, or readers, or women (if anything), but perhaps it’s a way of confronting what are very real issues (violence against women in our culture), but at a safe distance.

It’s all a far cry from the young women we were all addicted to reading about when Chick Lit was at its height.  These were bright-eyed career women, making the most of the opportunities and freedoms that the previous generation were denied and we couldn’t get enough of it.  It was all about girl power and finding an equal footing with our male counterparts, although the plots tended to disintegrate into a search for Mr. Right. But, as it turns out, it is possible to have too much of a good thing.  Once again the insatiable appetite of the reader and the publisher’s determination to keep them fed flooded the market with inferior, copycat books that ultimately sounded the death knell for the genre’s popularity.  Which is a pity because people still want to read contemporary romance with humour, and writers still want to write them, but they no longer fit the trend which is more towards violence than Valentino.

So what about the authors?  What’s their excuse?  Were they secretly grip lit authors all along?

There will always be people who attempt writing to trends.  The success of 50 Shades of Grey unleashed a plethora of writers who, in their desperation to be signed to a publisher, tried their hand a bit of slap and tickle.  I’m not judging (much).  I mean, why not?  It’s worth a punt.  No-one was more surprised to find out that women enjoy reading erotica than the publishers and they struggled to keep pace (ahem).  The irony of all this is that it is the publishers and agents themselves who advise writers not to write to trends.  I see this all the time on submission pages and yet the majority of new authors signing to the Big Five are grip lit.  Hypocritical much?  There are also suggestions that new authors are being shoe-horned into the genre, demonstrating once again that publishers simply want the same thing, only different.

Another reason why some female writers choose a darker subject matter could be that they don’t want to risk their book being wrapped in pink paper (the dreaded swirly font) and in order to be taken seriously.  Kate Harding wrote a fantastic article all the way back in 2010 entitled “Women’s fiction:  All misery and martinis”  While this article refers to Misery Lit, which was probably a bigger trend in America, it follows the same reasoning for the switch from Chick Lit to Grip Lit here and in the UK.

If an unusual number of female novelists “have resorted to the tactic of choosing themes that are as dark and miserable as possible,” it’s probably because “[w]e are sick to death of the assumption that because we are women we must be writing CHICKLIT.”

Jessica Duchen, author

“American writers in particular are often anxious to be perceived as ‘serious,’ which they tend to equate with a mournful solemnity. Like most attempts to appear grown-up, it just makes you look childish. Comedy is as essential a lens on the human experience as tragedy, and furthermore it is an excellent ward against pretension.”

Laura Miller, critic

Obviously, not all writers are contriving to write something dark in order to be taken seriously.  For some writers (thankfully) this is their natural home and they have made the genre what it is today.  But before you purchase a Grip Lit for dummies guide, in an effort to jump on this over-crowded band wagon, just remember, for every trend that sweeps through the publishing landscape, there are  readers seeking out an alternative for when blockbuster fatigue sets in.  I can’t count the amount of times I’ve heard people say they need something different to read, after an onslaught of mind-bending, plot-twisting, gruesome and violent grip lit reads.  Most readers enjoy variety and look for something that will appeal to all of their emotions.  Not that being trendy is a crime (ha-ha, oh).  It’s popular for a reason, people like it.  But when a trend looms so large over the industry, it stifles diversity and makes it harder for any new voices coming through.  In fact, novels that don’t fit into either camp are almost considered ‘fringe’.  I find it hard to discover new books outside of the trendy genres because, well, they’re not being published in any great numbers and it’s interesting to hear that even publishers are growing weary of the sameness.

One thing these trends do highlight, however, is the narrow definition of the role of women in these books.  We’re either ditsy wannabes, ‘having a go’ at a career, sex objects to fulfill someone else’s desires, or victims of violence and abuse. Obviously, this is fiction and fiction is escapism, but wouldn’t you wonder about the kind of world we’re choosing to escape to?  If the writing is good, I don’t care what genre I’m reading.  It takes a talented writer to tell you a story you didn’t think you wanted to hear, to make you laugh or cry against your better judgement.  Maybe they don’t always have to find Mr. Right, or even look for him, or end up being choked to death by him either!

 

Women’s Fiction: The Big Cover Up

custom-wrapped-rose-and-pinks-31Following a recent discussion with an online book-club (which I am now ripping off for this blog!) the subject of covers reared its’ pretty head.  Pretty being the operative word, and a pejorative one in this case.  A male reader asked the question, why do publishers insist of giving female authors the kind of covers that men wouldn’t be caught dead with?  Of course, there was also the argument that some men wouldn’t be caught dead reading a female author, period; regardless of the cover.  In this day and age, I find that a bit sad to be honest.  It just perpetuates this idea that women can only write about things that concern women – as if men wouldn’t find anything of interest in ‘women’s things’.    Furthermore, what does it say about a man’s sense of identity, that he can’t ‘be seen’ in public with a woman’s book?  All big questions, which I will now neatly side-step in order to get to the side of the argument that best serves my agenda.  Girlie covers – what’s it all about?

Just to be sure I wasn’t being a complete hypocrite, I made a quick scan of the books I’ve read over the past few years and there is an approximate 60/40 split in female to male authors on my list.  I think it’s only natural that we will veer towards our own gender, but I was quite pleased to see that my reading has been fairly balanced.  I never really think about the author’s gender when choosing a book.  My decision is based solely on whether or not the story piques my interest.  That… and the cover.  It was at this point I realised that the guy in the book club had a point.

One of the most important jobs of a book cover is to let the reader know, as clearly and succinctly as possible, what they are getting with this book.  If I see a dark and moody cover with blood stains, I’ll probably keep moving.  Crime fiction isn’t really my thing, but how many good books have I missed because of these preconceptions?  Readers make their minds up in a matter of seconds, based on the cover of a book.  So it follows that the publishing industry, rightly or wrongly, create covers that they believe will sell; even if this is at odds with what lies between the covers.  However, there is an even greater divide when it comes to books by female authors.  Regardless of their literary merit, many publishers seemed determined to shoe-horn women’s books into the kind of covers that female readers themselves feel may be undervaluing the author’s work.  It has long been argued that the Chick Lit genre has become something of a double-edged sword; on the one hand, it has introduced readers to a lot of very talented female authors, but it has been marketed in so much pink fluffiness, that many of these writers are doomed to spend eternity on a dusty shelf, trapped in pastel coloured covers and not taken seriously.

A recent article by Emily Harnett in The Atlantic reveals the thinking behind these covers:

Like any form of advertising, book covers tell women what they want by surmising who they want to be.

Image result for typical chick lit book covers

I’m guessing the assumption is that we all want to be white, thin goofballs with a hidden intelligence, all wrapped up in designer clothes!  Please don’t get me wrong – I am not criticizing this book or its readers, but I am questioning how the author’s work is marketed and whether or not this is a hindrance to women’s writing as a whole.  If you are a woman and you happen to write about anything involving relationships or family life, chances are that this will be your marketing strategy.

The following graphics from an article on Flavorwire show some examples of how male authored books are marketed completely differently.  The jumbo writing is a classic of the genre, which almost screams ‘This is important!’  It demands to be taken seriously, and as such, lends an air of gravitas to its reader.

The female authors have markedly different covers.  They are warm, decorative and while they’re not as garish as the Chick Lit cover, we immediately assume that what lies inside is somehow more feminine in nature.  Would a man pick up any of these books?  I would like to think that in this day and age, yes, he would.  But why are the publishers trying to divide us at all?  As an author, I would hope that both male and female readers can enjoy my stories, but have I subconsciously placed a barely perceptible ‘Men Keep Out’ sticker on my book just by the covers I’ve chosen?

And it’s not just a male/female divide.  There is also the question of what makes a book commercial fiction as opposed to the more highbrow literary fiction?  Who decides this and what are the criteria?  If you’re confused, take a look at these covers for the same book and tell me the publishers aren’t playing some sort of minds games!

5942573

The first has a quote from literary heavyweight John Banville (a man!) comparing the author to Edna O’Brien, another literary biggie, and features a monochrome image of a child and an old man.  The second, features a young woman with a tagline from one of Ireland’s most successful commercial fiction authors, Cecelia Ahern of PS I Love You fame.  This is the same book, people!!  How could a single story be marketed so differently?  Well, on closer inspection, it turns out that the black and white cover is the hardback and the carefree young woman is the paperback version.  According to author Jennifer Weiner, who treads the fine line between commercial and literary fiction, “Hardcover is when you get the reviews and the profiles, paperback is when you get the readers.”

So what they’re saying is, they don’t want to challenge us too much, but give us something wrapped in a package we are already familiar with.  Are we such predictable repeat shoppers?  I’m not so sure.  One of my favourite novels this year was The Improbability of Love by Hannah Rothschild.  It’s a mystery art caper, that takes us from the auction houses of London to Nazi Germany, and questions the true value of art and man’s desire to acquire beautiful things in search of salvation.  AND YET.  One of the male readers in the book club said he would never have picked it up, but his girlfriend had it and so he started reading it (and loved it).  A woman in the group said she wouldn’t touch a book with such a cover with a barge-pole (the cover in question was the red paperback).  The hardback features original artworks, while the Kindle version on the end features a palette and dispenses with the swirly writing altogether.  In this case, I imagine that the publishers are trying to cast their net wide and get as many potential readers as possible, so why not do that in the first place?  I really feel for the authors who have absolutely no say in how their work is packaged or marketed.  Perhaps self-publishing will change the face of cover discrimination, or will we, for lack of any better ideas, just perpetuate it?  The question we are all trying to answer is, what do readers want?  Perhaps a little less cliché and a little more originality.

255735482941735725714586

Sometimes I think we should just go back to the days when book covers were cloth bound and the title embossed in gold leaf.  These days, we have grown accustomed to the kind of aspirational lifestyle marketing that bombards us for clothing, make-up, interiors and cars, but isn’t there something about books that should be held sacred?  In reading, do we not seek to move beyond the shallow and superficial?  I love book covers, just as I love design and art, but matching an image with a story is a tricky business and can often be misleading.  I suppose the same can be said for blurbs, which are more often than not a bunch of sound-bytes to reel you in.  The Blind Date Book Company is a fantastic response to the publishing world’s attempts to manipulate our reading habits.  Their tagline, rather predictably asks us to ‘Never Judge A Book By It’s Cover’, but rather choose ‘blindly’, based only on a four word description.  I think it’s a really lovely idea and an innovative way to broaden your bookshelf and find some new books to love.  It is, after all, blind 😉

Photo 05-07-2016, 19 40 47

 

Whether you like my covers or not, you can get my books here:

new heirloom1+1Amazon (Paperback)Kindle 

 

The Mysterious Bakery On Rue de Paris (7) - CopyAmazon (Paperback) ~Kindle ~ Nook ~ iTunes ~ Kobo