Mysterious Matters: Mystery Publishing Demystified

The Authors Whose Editor I'd Like to Be

I almost titled this post "The Authors I'd Like to Edit," but I thought that would have the connotation of "authors whose works I would like to edit, so that I might help improve their books."  What I would rather write about on this snowy evening is those mystery authors writing today whom I admire, and whose editor I would love to be.

1. MINETTE WALTERS

Frankly, I find this woman amazing.  I believe she is the heir apparent to Christie in terms of her unrelenting ability to stretch the boundaries of the genre.  She is an innovator in all ways--from plot through structure through characterization.  She's never written the same book twice, which is not something that a lot of mystery writers can say.  She doesn't rely on a series character to carry any of the books, and she is ruthless with her readers, alternating between captivating and offending them.  In addition to being a writer, she is an artist.  Sometimes she's preachy or heavy-handed, and the work can be inconsistent from book to book.  None of that matters to me.  I pre-order every single one of her books, and I drop everything I'm doing the minute it arrives.

2. J.D. ROBB

I've read only a few of the J.D. Robb books, and only one of the Nora Roberts (which my wife had been reading on a long flight.  We both finished the books we'd been reading, so we swapped).  She's good--damn good--at just about everything.  But the reason I'd like to be her editor is the love she inspires in readers.  It seems that everywhere I go, I hear people gushing about how much they love these books, the characters, and the plots.  What an amazing experience it would be to be the very first person (perhaps other than an agent) to get to read the newest JDR/NR manuscript.

3. JOYCE CAROL OATES, A/K/A ROSAMOND SMITH.

Oates has written many fine mystery/suspense novels under her pseudonym of Rosamond Smith, in addition to another pseudonym that I cannot remember right now.  Oates seems to inspire the widest range of criticism of any writer I can think of, from vitriolic resentment of her output through the highest raptures regarding the way she captures the American character and experience.  But I think a lot of people don't take the time to realize what an excellent plotter and story-teller she is.  The Rosamond Smith Books (Lives of the Twins, Snake Eyes, Nemesis) are superbly crafted and creepy.  Honestly, though, I'd actually be intimidated at being Oates's editor.  How could I make any suggestions to improve the work?  She knows a lot more than I do; and even as I read her books and think how they should be shorter, tighter, better focused, or less self-indulgent occasionally, I also think that the book wouldn't be the same--wouldn't be an Oates book--if I tried to hold her back in any way.

4. ELIZABETH GEORGE.

Like Oates, George seems to elicit strong reactions.  I am always a bit amazed at how angry some critics get regarding what they consider as George's English "pretensions."  That doesn't bother me--what has bothered me in recent books is Havers' annoying and stubborn low-class ways, as well as Lynley's snobbery.  But like Minette Walters, George is an innovator who rarely rests on her laurels.  At her finest, I think there is no better creator of character in mystery fiction.  I so admire her technique, which I think I kind of, sort of understand but can't quite put into words.  Having chats with her about her methods would only make me better at my job.

5. ALEXANDER MCCALL SMITH.

What can I say?  I simply adore the Precious Ramotswe Botswana books, and I like the other series, too (Isabel Dalhousie).  These books transport me to a different place where life is simpler, where I don't fight traffic, crowds, and rudeness every day of my life.  I find McCall Smith's simple prose to be incantatory--he simply casts a spell, and he is an effortless writer (at least it appears effortless).  Not a word ever seems to be out of place.  Being McCall Smith's editor would likely lower my blood pressure and add pigment to my gray hair.  And I'd have no work to do.  I'd halfheartedly think that maybe I should recommend a stronger mystery plot, or that he tell us, one of these days, what Mr. J.L.B. Matkeoni's initials stand for.  But I wouldn't--I'd just publish the manuscript as he sent it to me.

'Tis Awards Season

We're at the time of year when the various associations begin nominating writers and books for their various awards--the Edgar, the Agatha, and a host of others designed to honor the best in mystery fiction.

The questions that seem to be on everyone's minds are: Who gives these awards?  How are people or books nominated?  Is the process "political" or slanted in any given direction?

There are a lot of good Websites that outline which group gives which award, so I won't delve into that here.  The question I find most interesting is "Are these awards, and the judges who give them, political?" 

Of course they are.   

I think it goes without saying that no awards are unbiased unless they are "blinded."  In other words, awards based solely on merit can be given only when manuscripts are submitted with no author's name on them.  When published books are submitted for awards, a lot more than the contents are under consideration.  Is the author male or female, and how does that jibe with each individual judge's tastes or beliefs?  Which publisher has published the book--and does this situation match the judge's belief that small press books are better than those of the corporate publishers, or vice versa?  Is the author already famous and successful--and does the judge believe that we should continue to shine praises upon already shining stars, or is the judge one who roots for the underdog?

Like parents who deny that they have a favorite among their children (and the parents reading this will know that most of us do, indeed, have a favorite), most judges (and I have been one) will tell you that they enter the process with an open mind.  But we all know that every person on this earth holds a set of beliefs that affect their decisions in countless ways.  So the judging process will always have a lot of that going on, along with the usual buddy system that happens:  A, B, and C agree to serve as a mutual support network for one another's books; so when A finds herself as a judge for the [insert name here] Award, certainly B and C are going to fare very strongly in Judge A's final scores.  In publishing--as everywhere else in the media industry, and in American society in general--you get ahead on the basis of whom you know, and in this business a lot of favors are owed.

I don't want this to sound sanctimonious, because I'm not arguing that this system is at all immoral or wrong.  I'm just suggesting that this is reality.  And it's a reality that works to the advantage of a lot of people.  We publishers love nothing more than doing a reprint with a large starburst shrieking "WINNER OF THE YADDAYADDA AWARD, 2007," and I know our publicist makes a lot of hay with award winners.

In other words, no matter how flawed the system may be, it's beneficial to writers, publishers, and the genre.  These contests give much-needed publicity to many struggling and noteworthy writers who haven't found a mainstream audience yet.  In addition, the awards are a massive feather in the cap of the writers.  At the end of the day, many writers don't get a lot of positive feedback.  They get good reviews, and that's nice; and if the book has sold decently, that's a bonus.  But there is nothing like the recognition of your colleagues and other people whom you respect.  I've worked with some award winners in my career, and without exception they were all extremely humbled and proud by the honors bestowed upon them. 

So, Agatho, you are thinking, if you were judging for the Edgars, what criteria would you bring to the table?  Well, I know exactly where my prejudices lie, and how that would affect my voting.  From my position as a publisher who likes bringing new writers to the public's attention, and as an editor who works for an independent press, I hereby honestly tell you that:

• Unless the book is absolutely spectacular, I wouldn't vote for a best-seller.  Those writers already get more than enough recognition.  They don't need awards.
• I would be more likely to rank a small press book over that of a corporate book, if the books were of almost equal quality.  Small presses need all the publicity they can get, and so do their authors.
• I have developed opinions of many mystery writers based on their behavior on listservs, on the Internet in general, and at conventions.  If I think the writer is crass or tacky, I wouldn't vote for the book, no matter how good it is.  And if I've seen the writer get nasty anywhere, I'd toss the book into the garbage can.  I would be much more likely to give extra points to an author who seems gracious.
• At this point, I might be more likely to vote for a man over a woman.  Our genre is publishing many superb new female writers, but I feel that some fine male writers are not getting as much attention as they should.  I'd seek to redress that balance in my voting.
• I like writers who take chances and try something different.  I would vote for a glorious failure over a perfectly constructed traditional book any day of the week.
• If the writer is the child of someone already famous, I would find it difficult to give that person a fair shake, assuming that his or her publishing contract is based purely on Mom's/Dad's success and name. 
• If any of the books I have published or worked on were on the list being considered for the award, I would vote for them without even reading any of the other books.

So there you have it--my online admission regarding my judging techniques.

Self Promotion, Redux

In response to my recent posting on the role of self-promotion, I received a query from a writer, who has given me permission to reprint it here:

But may I play devil's advocate for a moment? When writers whine about not getting enough support from their publishers, I don't think it is merely "advertising" they are talking about. I think "promotion" is probably the correct word. I don't know whose responsibility it is (agent or publisher) but aren't you more likely to secure a radio interview or newspaper review than the author is? Don't you know how to run a book tour more efficiently and in better venues than an author (at least on the bigger scale)? Can't you secure better speaking opportunities for an author than an author could?  I don't know the answers to these questions, and I don't think an author is without responsibility in these things, but I think maybe you're being a little unfair by saying the authors are all asking about advertising alone.

These are all fair questions, but some background information is necessary.

Yes, it is true that most publishers have publicists whose job it is to schedule book tours, work with the media, and obtain reviews.  And I have to say that the job of the publicist is not easy.  I, for one, could never do it.  You face constant rejection, which is really difficult when you are excited about a new book or author and want to share the news with the world.

The problem is, of course, gaining the attention of the world at large when we live in an overpublished, sensorily-overloaded society.  There are literally hundreds of thousands of books published each year.  While we will always have mainstays like Publisher's Weekly, Kirkus, and Library Journal, these are specialty magazines, read by industry people and not the public at large.  The public at large reads newspapers and magazines, which have been greatly cutting back on their coverage of books.  As for TV, if you're not already famous--nobody wants you.

In terms of bookstores, most of the big chains won't do signings with unknown or newly published writers, though they will of course sponsor signings with big names like Jim Patterson, Mary Higgins Clark, and the like.  The reason is quite simple: Big names bring in big crowds, which bring in big revenue.  Unknown names don't do any of that in a general-interest bookstore like Borders or Barnes & Noble.  This is why so many mystery writers strike out on their own, making contact with owners of specialty shops.  Genre lovers are more likely to visit a specialty bookshop, or try something new.  Still, the number of books sold in signings at specialty shops is really quite small in comparison to the costs incurred, which is why the authors themselves usually do the work of setting up a tour for themselves.

Look at it this way: Let's say you are unknown novelist John Smith whose first novel The Assassination of Rogerio Ackroydo has just been published.  Let me outline what a publicist goes through:

S/he sends ARCs (advance reader's copies) to the big review engines and prays that the cover and description garner enough interest for someone to review them.  New writers are always going to have a harder time getting reviews, simply because their names aren't known.

S/he contacts other review engines (newspapers, magazines, and Websites) to ask about review interest.  Some of them say, "Well, you're not on our approved publishers list, so tough luck."  Others say, "Send it, and maybe someone will review it."  A few say, "Yes, it sounds great, we'd love to read it."  Quite a good number of people don't respond at all, and others say yes because they make extra money by selling free copies on eBay or Amazon.com marketplace.

S/he contacts local newspapers.  Some are more than happy to provide coverage.  Others say, "John Smith?  Who's that?  Come back to us when he's famous."  Or, they imply, "Another person looking for free publicity.  Come back to us when you're willing to spend some advertising dollars with our paper, and then will talk about a quid pro quo."

S/he tries to get coverage on radio or TV.  Producers laugh because they've never heard of you and because mystery authors don't rake in viewers or listeners.  Self-help people do; so do autobiographers who've written about their victimization.  And of course the money-management, get-rich-quick people, and diet writers are always a big draw.  But John Smith, with his clever little mystery?  No--nobody wants to hear about that in prime time, or even in the wee hours. 

S/he calls a bookstore, perhaps the local Borders, and is told, "We don't do book signings unless we know we can sell at least 100 copies."  Now let's say 300 people enter Borders between 7 and 9 p.m., the hours of a signing.  Maybe 10% are interested in mysteries--that's 30 people.  Of those 30%, only a few are going to be willing to try an unknown author.  So you've just sold only about 10 copies for Borders, which has had the hassle (and the cost) of setting you up at a table.  And your publisher has paid to ship 100 copies of the book to Borders, of which 90 are returned to us.  We've lost our shirts.

The "problem" with the fiction market from a publicity standpoint is that it is just so incredibly subjective.  Mystery plots can't be targeted as large segments of society, the way nonfiction can.  There are always huge numbers of people looking to lose weight, improve their appearance, work on their relationships, and so forth.  The country is full of people looking to start their own businesses, learn all about cosmetics, or understand the latest release of Mac OS.  And, sadly, those numbers are hundreds or thousands of times larger than those who might be interested in The Assassination of Rogerio Ackroydo. 

As the world has become more corporate, so has publishing--making it harder and harder for new writers of fiction to break out.  (In fact, I have worked with agents in the past who in recent years have stopped taking on fiction because of how difficult it is to make any money.)  This puts publishers in the sad but pragmatic place of spending very, very wisely (read: frugally).  I always say--Please don't get into writing novels for the money  And remember, many of the greats have said that it took them years, or even decades, to get any notice whatsoever.  Sue Grafton, for example, has said that nobody paid any attention to her until after her seventh book.