Saturday, September 8, 2007

Sick Of It!!

Today I was in Borders (thinking about buying Borders stock? Read Paul Riddell's thoughts on the subject first) and I looked over the table of new mass market paperbacks. And shuddered.

Now, I understand trends as well as the next person. And I know that sometimes, as our own Nan Higginson reminded us last month, coincidences do happen and people come out with very similar books at the same time. But when does a publisher or agent put her foot down and say "I'm sick of this"? I think there were four (maybe five) thrillers on that table. A couple of historical romances and new releases in cozy series. And everything else--no joke, everything--was paranormal romantic suspense. Not psychics, either. Nothing so tame as that. No, every book "starred" a werewolf or a vampire, if not both.

A couple of years ago, it was all chick lit all the time. But since the majority of that was published in trade paperback, it never made the table at the entrance to my local Borders, so I never really noticed it except to read about its rise and to notice the growing number of shelves at the beginning of the romance section devoted to trade paperbacks.

This trend, however, disturbs me on any number of levels. First, there are a number of authors who didn't start out in the genre. I hope they have switched out of a true desire to and not because of pressure from publishers, but it doesn't seem too likely.

Second, I actually like to read Romantic Suspense. (Shocking, I know, but there it is.) And I like my protagonists to be of the same species. I mean, before I got married one of my dating criteria was that the guy not have a hairy back. I certainly don't want to read about women sleeping with werewolves! For that matter, I don't care for mysteries where cats talk or dogs solve crimes, either. My suspension of disbelief goes so far and no farther. (I don't mind a little psychic stuff, for example, as long as the whole plot doesn't hinge on a character's abilities.)

Third, and this may be my most serious objection, the "new release" table is often what attracts new readers. Bored browsers waiting for friends can look over that table without having to commit to a genre. That's where they get a sense of what's available to them. That much uniformity--especially so narrowly focused--is apt to turn people off, rather than on.

So yes, I think it's great to have a couple of paranormals on that table. And a couple of chick lit books. And some mysteries with cats. And some mysteries without. You see where I am going with this, don't you? I could be wrong, but I believe publishers pay for placement on those tables. Is the predominance of werewolf fiction dictated by the fact that publishers worry their wolves will get lost among, if you'll excuse the expression, the pack? Wouldn't it make more sense to figure that people who like that kind of book will search it out since it's so popular right now, and to spend the promotional dollars on a book that will really stand out on a table full of fangs and fur?

OK, I'll stop ranting now. And go back to counting my hives.

11 comments:

Lois Karlin said...

The uniformity - conformity - is a puzzle, isn't it? I suppose it's to nab the populace who'd otherwise pass the counter altogether?

My 27 year old nephew's girlfriend is writing a vampire novel, so I suppose she actually reads them as well. (Delicate shudder...Anne Rice must be turning over in her grave. Or crypt. Or mausoleum. Or whatever it is they have in the garden district of New Orleans.)

I never make it to Borders...except to pick up my Harry Potter book. There's something to be said for being greeted on Amazon with suggestions based on my recent purchases.

Laura Kramarsky said...

You know, that Amazon recommends thing has provided my family with no small amount of amusement. I sometimes post what it's decided I would like either on my personal blog or as my Instant Messenger status menu. After I ordered a couple books for research, my top 5 recommendations looked something like this:

- The Black Book of Improvised Munitions, vol. 2 (I had bought vol. 1)
- Special Forces Guerrilla Warfare Manual
- Poisonous Plants
- Lock Picking
- The Illustrated History of Weaponry

My younger brother, who is a lawyer and worries about things like this, is pretty sure Homeland Security is going to be knocking on my door any minute.

I wish your nephew's girlfriend the best, though if this passes as quickly as the Chick Lit phase did (and I can only hope it does), it will be passé by the time she finishes! (Heck, it's probably out of date already, given how long it takes to get a book to market.)

Terrie Farley Moran said...

Nice rant, Laura.

This conformity (nice word, Lois!) thing extends to non-fiction as well. No sooner does someone discover some archaic bit of info from 1742 and begin a book about it, than three other scholars discover the same bit and write a slightly different book about it and they all hit the market within three months of each other.

Meanwhile, for two hundred years, scholars have looked at that bit of information and muttered "That's interesting," and moved on.

Who knows what makes these tides ebb and flow. Oh! Oh! Do werewolves and vampires respond to the moon? I am so not up on this stuff. Terrie

Travis Erwin said...

You said ... I mean, before I got married one of my dating criteria was that the guy not have a hairy back.

Coming from hairy guy that one hurt. And I'm not even a werewolf, but the thought of that much wax really scares me.

Actually I agree whole heartedly with you on this subject, except for that part about hairy backs. :)

Nan Higginson said...

The good news is, perhaps the weird wolves, etc. fad will be long gone by the time we all launch into our next phase of writing for publication.

Write ON!
Nan

Laura Kramarsky said...

Travis --

But that's the wonder of both books and life...there are readers for the vampire books and women for the hirsute men! And men for the hirsute men. And dates for hirsute women, too, I suppose.

Hehehehe.

Terrie Farley Moran said...

Travis,

Promise me right now that you will never wax. I have a feeling Jenn would object strenuously.

Terrie

alex keto said...

This seems to be a bit like the Hollywood phenomenon. If one book does well, then run a bunch of clone books to ring in the same money. Which doesn't say much for the publishing industry overall, but that's life.

On the other hand, when a series like Harry Potter sells in the billions, the temptation to clone is probably overwhelming.

But I have noticed some agents at conferences getting incredibly detailed in what they are looking for saying things like they want a YA Urban Fantasy with a female lead and on and on. Clearly they are responding to something in the publishing world.

Laura Kramarsky said...

Alex -

I agree. Hollywood is definitely the model, which is scary is *so many* ways!

Paul Riddell said...

Sadly, I don't think that any editor is willing to reach that level, if only because of what Brad Hicks refers to as "being wrong for three years." In his case, he talks about how people get drawn into obvious scams and stunts because they watch their friends making money and they don't want to be left behind. With so many of these bits of delusional thinking, you usually have a grand total of three years before everything goes under if it's a scam, and they don't want to be the ones left out if it isn't.

In my case, I see this all over the publishing industry: it happens just as much in nonfiction as in fiction. One author does a high-profile book on orchids or tulips, and by the time the news gets out, at least five publishers have orchid or tulip books of varying levels of quality on their lists as well. Dinosaurs are a stalwart, but you can follow trends based upon the type of book: two years ago, it was Victorian scientists and fossil collectors, and I know this because of the number of remaindered copies in my local Half Price Books store. Some people may remember the rush to put out "unauthorized" Star Trek bios and guides back ten years ago (most of them consisting of reprinted articles from blessedly long-dead science fiction media magazines that nobody read the first time around), and my personal favorite trend was when some five separate biographies on Hunter S. Thompson came out between 1992 and 1994, all a decade too early to justify the response. In every case, you can take a look at the trend, look at the huge piles of remainders at the local Barnes & Noble, and figure "Ah, someone thought they'd get an early start on a trend."

What's really funny is that for all of the effort to cash in on a perceived trend, many of those trends go nowhere. If you don't believe me, look at all of the remaindered books on Kurt Cobain and the rest of the mid-Nineties whiner rock contingent stinking up the used bookstores. Okay, so Courtney Love has to pay the coke dealer, so she authorized a reprint of Kurt's poetry. Well, it sold about as well as Jimmy Corgan's collection of his poetry, which did about as much as Jewel's collection from nearly a decade ago. Everybody in publishing keeps telling us that poetry doesn't sell, so why the hell do we continue to get collections of godawful poetry from wankers (and I'm including the notorious collection of Oliver Stone's college poetry in this mix) that don't sell even with the famous names attached?

Laura Kramarsky said...

>>(and I'm including the notorious collection of Oliver Stone's college poetry in this mix)<<

Oh dear dog, I missed that one. The "three year" thing reminds me of a friend who used to try all those MLM schemes. When I first met her, she was doing home parties to sell "Stampin' Up" rubber stamps. She lasted just under three years at that before realizing she wasn't going to make money, just spend her own money on rubber stamps.

Just at the end of that, she started some other MLM thing. I sat and listened to the guy's spiel. He was prosing on about how great it was, how you didn't even have to work, just sit back and let the money roll in. He spent over two hours pressuring her to sign up, but when I asked, "if you don't have to work to make money, what do you call what you're doing here?" His answer was something along the lines of "oh, just hanging out." Yeah, right. I lost track of that woman a couple of years later, just as she was figuiring out that she wasn't going to make money at that scheme, either.

It's really scary to think of every aspect of life in terms of attempts to make money off things the majority of which will prove, three years later, to be unprofitable. But I suspect there is an uncomfortable amount of truth there.