“We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Yesterday, in responding to my post, RES Mark Alger (Update — yes, I got who said it wrong. But in retrospect, it was all RES’s fault for saying Pfui in such a Nero Wolfe like manner. Coff. Oh, okay, fine, my mind has been coming back — slowly and by degrees — from wherever it went while I was ill. But slowly is the operational point. So my excuse is that I was ill. Besides, I was led astray by evil companions, and further more I was never there. And I have a whitlow! Pfui.) made the point that there is such a thing as story comfort-food. He brought up Rex Stout, whose stories I tend to devour again and again, particularly when I’m feeling down, and which are, in fact, set pieces.
He could have brought up other examples, too. Like, say, romances. I have recently started going on binges of regency romances when I’m not feeling quite the thing. (No, not contemporary romances, because half of those break the story for the obligatory feminist rant, and then the book goes against the wall, and it’s just bad for my disposition in general.) Romances, in general, in fact, have weathered the trouble in the book business better than most. There are other books that fall in this category: Cozy mysteries, for instance (for those who are not versed with the terms, these are similar to the works of Agatha Christie) and classical space opera, or even quest fantasy.
If the main couple didn’t end up getting together at the end of a romance, if the detective didn’t solve the mystery, if the brave and plucky young man/woman didn’t win out at the end of the space opera, and if the quest fantasy didn’t fall out in the expected way, the reader would be very disappointed indeed.
Note that all these genres and subgenres are hated by most publishing houses, who have spent the last thirty years either trying to subvert them and giving them “astonishing” endings, (which lose readers) or suppress them by proclaiming ex-cathedra things like “cozy mysteries aren’t real mysteries” or “space opera isn’t really science fiction. Science fiction needs a big idea.” Romance in turn inspires them with a sort of incoherent rage, unless it’s the sort of “mainstreamish” literary “romance” in which everyone lives lives of astonishing irrelevance and is not allowed an happy-for-a-moment, much less a Happy-Ever-After.
I understand their point of view. Truly I do. I understand it beyond the easiest explanation which is “most traditional house editors are poopy-heads.” Most of them are NOT poopy-heads, and most of them are, in fact, trying to do the best they can.
However, I’ll also note, that though I can’t prove this, the feeling I have from countless writer-editor dinners and countless talks at cons, is that with one notable exception (yes, you know who.) most of them aren’t readers, either. Not in their spare time. They might have started out as readers, but – defeated by the pile of stuff that must be read for work – now relax in front of the TV or the game console. This has caused them to forget what the feel of being a reader is, and what it is like to read for entertainment. Hence curious ideas like “the reader doesn’t want more than one book by the same author in one year” and also, of course the “astonish me” mode.
The main driver of the “astonish me” mode, though, is that they read so much for work. IOW they read so much with an editorial eye out, and when they don’t really feel like reading for fun. And they get bored. They get astonishingly bored.
I remember this from when I read slush for friends, or even when I’ve edited invite-anthos. You have to be very careful not to read more than say three stories in a row, because after that, your readers-mind is numbed, and the editor comes out. And the editor gets bored. And the editor wants surprise. He (or in my case, she) wants something to break the mind-numbing boredom; something different, startling.
Of course, this is not ALL that is wrong – there is also the fact that most editors, at least since the sixties or so, have been liberal arts graduates. As a literature major (forgive me, it was another country, there were fewer options, and besides, the wench is dead) I know what that is like. You analyze literature, you think of it from angles that would never occur to a normal human being (“in this paragraph, Goethe refers to his feet carrying him into the forest. This denotes an almost psychotic loss of control” – or, the jaded writer says, maybe he just didn’t want to start another sentence with “he walked.”) This creates a feeling of “separation” from the common writer, a disdain for people who read merely for pleasure. Oikophobia sets in, which leads editors to regard falling numbers or complaints from the readers as proof that they’re in fact right and readers need to be “educated.” Most of all, due to the way evaluations and pronouncements are made in most literature courses, they are afraid of putting a foot wrong and rely on the quality-judgements of their equals, i.e., other literature graduates, because hey, would you trust the mere readers?
All of this has combined over the last thirty years or so to push the surprise ending and the surprise denouement into most genres. Unfortunately, this is not what the average reader wants. A surprise ending is fine – if the trail has been laid very well indeed, though, I’ll point out, this is more difficult to do than it seems – now and then, for a break of ennui. But someone like me who mostly reads for entertainment and to decompress, or simply to keep the voices in her head quiet while she does dishes or cooks (there are times I don’t need another story idea, thank you sooo much.) doesn’t often need surprise. And unless you have the genius, of say, Jill McGown, who can spin a mystery on its head three times in the last four pages, all using the same facts, most surprise endings are, in fact, disappointing.
I remember the first time in the seventies when I hit an ending to a colonization story and EVERYONE died. Two more of those and I stopped reading that subgenre of SF. There was no conscious decision. I just stopped. If the book wasn’t going to pay off, why invest hours reading it? I’d just re-read Heinlein instead. And the more er… “modern” mysteries ran me off most genres and into cozies only, until they shut off that spigot.
The truth is, demanding “a surprise in every book” is akin to demanding “an atomic explosion in every fireplace.” While atomic energy can be useful (and atomic warfare too, at least as a threat, and no, I’m so not debating this) having an atomic explosion in your fireplace is not only not useful, it’s not convenient, defeats the purpose and, oh, yeah, makes the entire area into a radioactive desert. Which large portions of genre literature have become, after thirty years of this treatment.
Most of the time, we really don’t want the hero in an erotic romance to turn into a spider on their wedding night and devour the bride. (Which is why most people wouldn’t read erotica written by me, more’s the pity.)
Most of the time we want the ending to be more or less what we expect. The occasional good surprise – oh, look, the little dog that was lost in the first chapter came home after the guy and gal got together. Cuuuuuute. – is okay, but it is not what we read for.
Those of us who are reading-addicts read for the journey; to spend time with characters we like, and to see each get what he/she deserves.
I regret to say this to my fellow literature-degree-holders, but most people want their entertainment to be uncomplicated. Yes, why, that DOES make you superior to them. Here’s your cookie, now go sit in the corner, and talk to other geniuses about how much better than average you are. As for me – pfui – I have a Nero Wolfe book to re-read.
According To Hoyt 
There was a definition of adventure that goes “somebody else in deep trouble far away”.
I doubt that those “editiors” would like their lifes to go the way they want stories to go.
Now I enjoy adventure stories as well as “cozy” stories but I don’t want my life to become an adventure story. [Grin]
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I understand about Editors not being readers. It’s the Slush. Reading slush is avoidence therapy, self inflicted. Open a manuscript, read three pages, recoil in horror. Pick up the next one. And the next . . . Do at least fifty a month for several years. Even the Editor Brain rolls over and surrenders to the automatic negative reaction to a new book. Gibbering. Nothing but gibbering above the eyebrows.
Honestly, I’ve been not reading slush for over a year. Or is it two years now? I’m back to reading a couple of books a month, where two a week used to be slow, and when I was a teenage, two a day was the usual.
However, losing their perspective, and completely forgetting about pleasing the customer just isn’t good business practice. And if the closest one can come to it is to purchase clones of the Best Sellers, it’s time to get into a new line of business.
Which a lot of them may be, shortly.
Although I understand that textbooks and non-fiction are doing well. But you know all about the costs of college texts, right? Think of a reader, and software, designed especially for textbooks . . . All the pictures and graphs in color, right where they belong . . . Easily printable if needed . . . And straightforward to create.
Who, me? Giving publishers nightmares? Surely you jest!
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It was once a common precept of psychology (may no longer be so; that field seems to reverse itself ever decade or two and what was perverse is now normal and what was normal now a form of phobia) that once a person engages in a practice for a living what had been a beloved hobby becomes a tedious chore. Once lucre becomes your reason for doing a thing it is all too easy to forget the pleasure that was once motive.
A similar pattern afflicts film reviewers – they see so many films and are required to produce a certain number of words about the film in such short order that their inner film buff forgets the comfort of the predictable and lusts for the different simply because it IS different.
Of course, at some point the “unexpected” becomes predictable and constitutes a genre all in itself.
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_Aversion_ therapy is the right term . . . I think.
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*Most of the time, we really don’t want the hero in an erotic romance to turn into a spider on their wedding night and devour the bride*
Well, of course not. There’s no suspension of disbelief there at all. Now if it had been the*bride* turning into a praying mantis . . .
Now I’m remembering American Gods by Neil Gaiman–and not in a good way.
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He brought up Rex Stout, whose stories I tend to devour again and again, particularly when I’m feeling down, and which are, in fact, set pieces.
Heh. Last night I read two Nero Wolfes I hadn’t seen before. Old ones that would be decried as racist nowadays even though Stout was radically on the other side then.
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Yes, Charlie, like Heinlein is considered sexist or homophobic, even though he was radically pro-woman and pro-gay well before it was fashionable. But, you see, he didn’t do it “correctly.” I suspect those elites who decide the correct way to support some cause will get their walking papers in time, too. For now, I’ll must make fun of them. Because I can. It’s nothing to what HISTORY will do to them, though.
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Oh yeah — look at the crap that mark Twain takes for being “racist” for calling his character “Nigger Jim.” The fact is that to make that claim, people have to completely ignore the fact that Huck Finn basically, over the course of the book, decides to save Jim *even though* he’s convinced (by the local churchfolk) that doing so means eternal damnation, or that Jim is by far the best human being in the book.
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Earlier today, while reviewing the Baen publishing schedule and making sure all the ones I desire are pre-ordered from Amazon (uh, everyone DOES do that, right?) I espied Heinlein’s Sixth Column (with accompanying essay by Col. Kratman – nice choice, Toni!) and was amused to scan some of the negative reviews. No prob;em with the idea the USA might be invaded and conquered in a sneak attack from The East, but outraged, OUTRAGED that a character fulminating under such occupation might refer to his new overlords in racially derogatory terms. Well golly gee whiz, it was probably just such racist attitudes that provoked the invasion in the first place.
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What’s funny about that review of Sixth Column is that RAH made it less racist than the un-sold Campbell story that RAH redid. [Wink]
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I recently reread Sixth Column. Not one of RAH’s stronger works.
FWIW, I was not so vexed by calling the pan-Asians “yellow monkeys” as I was by some of the scenes that just blew suspension of disbelief. (In a “people would not act like that” sense, not a “oooo – 50’s space opera science” sense.)
For example, the pan-Asians were so suspicious and credulous that not a one noticed the glowing halo as perhaps scientific. (To be fair, our hero noted that as a risk.) Peasants are peasants the world around, but there had to be at least a few missile scientists among the invaders that might want to investigate the Shiny Glowing Ring.
Using patriotic songs as hymns sounds cute, but it seems likely that at least one person would like the New World Order better than the Old, and report accordingly to their new overlords. I can think of at least one neighbor that would care more for order than for counter-revolution, and my Irish kin tell me that was true during the Troubles as well.
It is certainly true that the story Heinlein wrote was far less toxic than the one that Campbell outlined. It still was not as strong as, say Starship Troopers or Tunnel in the Sky. Having a weak opponent was part of the problem.
Scott
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Agreed on all this. There’s also the life experience factor, too, or whatever you want to call it. I think media people in general can be very isolated from the regular human experience. If nothing else, so many are still quite young. Older people, who’ve had to hold jobs and/or raise families (one of the hardest jobs out there), who’ve seen friends pass away from disease and accident, who’ve had to take on frightening responsibilities, and who’ve generally experienced real tragedy in one way or another, don’t have a lot of time for angst. Reading is not a job for us, it’s an escape. (Whenever I hear someone call something “mere escapism” in THAT tone of voice, I want to scream!)
I am reminded of that bit from Screwtape Letters, where Screwtape says, above all, keep your man from experiencing any real suffering. Someone might complain about the meaning of existence and his general misery and suffering, but a half hour’s genuine toothache would kill all that in a moment.
I don’t want the twist ending that leaves me feeling crappy, no matter how powerful it is – which is why I don’t read short stories much. There’s enough stuff out there to get depressed about that’s real, I don’t want to get depressed and upset about something someone made up. :-P
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I’m FINALLY learning to make my shorts funny. Or at least to give them happy endings. Actually the interesting thing is MOST of my stories in the last five years have at least bitter-sweet endings. It’s the earlier ones that are depressing. I wonder if it’s that age thing.
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Yep, my old stuff is so angst-ridden, I’m surprised the type doesn’t slide off the page in a tide of tears.
Depressing stories leach your energy, and those of us with multiple responsibilities can’t afford that.
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Yes, but I think it’s also part of the training in our society. Look how many people discount Pratchett. “He’s just a funny writer” as though, somehow, writing tragedy were easier. Actually looking at Shakespeare, I’d say that tragedy is MUCH easier. Some of his comedies were clearly phoned in. Maybe that’s another reason young people tend to write tragic. It’s easier and they’re not very skilled yet. (Yeah, yeah, as I turn 49 tomorrow, I’m starting to prepare reasons to feel good about it.)
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Sigh. Funny shorts, happy endings … you’re making my inner 12-year old blow milk out the nose.
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Life is tragic. Even for the lucky ones, the silver spooned & golden tongued. Anybody intellectually older than 16 understands that. It takes considerably longer to appreciate is the humour of this, in part because the young so often take tragedy personally. Perspective requires time to acquire. The young get angry over injustice, but eventually all but the slowest among us realize there ain’t no justice so you must either laugh or cry – and laughing is much better for your health.
I have recommended him before, but will readily do so again: James Branch Cabell did as droll a job of mining the tragedy of the human condition for humour than anybody that side of Pratchett. The vision of Hell Gaiman presented in The Sandman derives from Cabell’s Jurgen, where the condemned exhaust the poor devils by demanding punishment proportionate to their sins — never recognizing that their sins were essentially petty & trivial with the true source of their punishment being their own vanity.
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Agree with that, definitely.
I’ve got the worse version of seasonal affective disorder – I was diagnosed as having bad depression several times before one doctor finally noticed that my depressions got cured, or at least much better, after spring came (living above the 60th parallel is not good if you can’t handle dark), and things have been a lot better during the last decade, since now I at least have some idea what helps (light, but at least for me big doses of vitamin D3 with that have made a noticeable difference). But still, I don’t need any extra angst, even with that thing now sort of in control. What I need is something that can help me keep some optimism, stories about people who make it.
I liked angst in stories somewhat better when I was young, but I wasn’t a big fan even then. May have had something to do with the fact that there was enough of that in near family, during my teens two of my cousins and their father died (one cousin drowned when he was nine, the older brother managed to dive, head first, into an emptied swimming pool less than a decade later when he was in his early twenties, their father had a coronary in his early 50’s – talk about a cursed family), my grandmother died, my uncle on my father’s side died and my mother had her first heart attack (she died when I was 26).
No thanks to depressing for me. I’m cool with stories where the characters get pushed to their breaking point, but they’d better get some sort of triumph in the end and emerge at least sort of healed, or there should at least be some sort of promise that they can heal. And I love Nero Wolfe type of stories, where the characters pretty much stay the same in story after story and always win, provided the characters are likeable enough.
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Hello, my name is Eric, and I am a bookaholic. My personal poison is sci-fi, especially military sci-fi. No, I don’t expect you to agree, or even like it. I think I’ve read everything Heinlein wrote about 6 times, but that came about for another reason. You see I also have depression. For me its a light duty kind, so I don’t need drugs or other stuff to stay functional. But I do need to read. Always. All the time. Well not quite all the time, but I never leave the house without a book. Over time I discovered that nothing stops depression dead in its tracks faster then a good book. Or even a bad book.
But that is not all that I read. As I suggested I read stuff for fun, But I also read stuff to learn, read stuff to research projects (both writing and building), and sometimes I even read stuff just to mess with my head. The main drug is comfort reading, but probably 1/4 to 1/3 of the books I buy fall into that rather large “other” category. I’m complex. So sue me.
Not to defend publishers, as I have had almost no personal contact with them, but I suspect a small part of the reason they might prefer novel novels has to do with the fact that a truly “new” voice is easier to sell (or perhaps perceived as easier to sell). A musician friend of mine once described a good pop song as sounding “exactly like something you’ve heard before, but different.” That description fits my mainline reading needs to a “T”. Does that mean I read pop fiction?
And just to be contrary, I’ll note that I often pick up a “new” book specifically because it has a “new” way of telling the same old story. But after that first book, the second and the third books in that universe suddenly need to be the same as the first. Is it me, or are there two standards at work here? One to start a series, and a second one to keep it going?
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No, what you say makes perfect sense. New voice and all that. Eh. Within my subgenres I’ll at least give a try to something that’s “different” enough, once. What I object to is having the end come out of nowhere, or be highly unsatisfactory for the subgenre. I.e. I’m okay with the girl falling in love with second string guy, say, but not with having her refuse to marry anyone — if it’s a romance. You see what I mean? (Though I once ended a Pride and Prejudice fanfic with CHarlotte running away to sea to become a pirate.) Question for the audience, any interest in my getting all that old stuff, collating it, cleaning it, and putting it somewhere on this page as ebook for download, with a donation button next to it?
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What utterly preposterous twaddle you’ve written here!
(Amongst arachnids it’s the female that most usually eats the male post-coitus.)
Other than that, the post is excellent. Carry on.
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AH! How do you KNOW it wasn’t a transvestite female spider disguised as a male human?
Actually this refers to my attempt, 20 years ago to write porn. I needed the money, we were beyond broke, and I was ill and had an infant to look after. People told me “there’s money in erotica” There wasn’t, though… never mind. So, I tried to write it. I bought a book on how to write erotica. I wrote about five pages, before I became terminally bored and the guy revealed himself for an alien spider and ate everyone else at the… party? I think. It’s been a while.
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Hey, he was an alien. He was just trying to be polite. After all, they did ask him…
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Now that one would have me reaching for the donate button! ROFLMAO
Although you might want to save it for the start of a very twisted Shape Shifters vs the Arachnids thriller. I can see Kyrie looking at Tom in horror. “You _ate_ the killer spider! Eeeee! I’ll never kiss you again!”
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LOL. As is Kyrie spends a bit thinking Tom ate Not Dinner…
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In all fairness and accuracy, the point about Nero Wolfe = comfort food reading was raised by Mark Alger. I elaborated and expanded upon it, slightly. Credit where it is due, all others pay cash.
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Thanks for that, RES. I didn’t want to be a bore and point it out myself. Being already boring enough, doncha know.
M
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de nada. I regret not spotting it earlier in my day and getting the correction up sooner (and more prominently.)
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You SHOULD have pointed it out. Sorry. I’m clearly not well. And RES distracted me with that magnificent pfui –so it’s all his fault!
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MY fault?? Pfui.
Were I more energetic today I would find and quote some appropriate Wolfian misogynism.
Happy Birthday.
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Thank you RES. :)
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THANK you. I always found his misogynism hillarious. But then I’m an unusual woman.
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His misogyny is hilarious, mainly because it is so obviously a ruse, like his weight and his insistence on not leaving his townhouse for business. It is a facade constructed to insulate him from his feelings for humanity, His view of women is, like his view of men, clear-eyed and unromantic. He holds no illusions about women being weaker, kinder or more compassionate than men; in this he is a true feminist. Yet, for all his unwillingness to indulge feminine wiles he is as courteous and respectful to women as to men.
It is a deplorable tendency of many readers to confuse what is presented as what is, to go with First Impressions and not look past the veneer to the depth of character. OTOH, many folk infuse a depth of character that may not exist, projecting redeeming traits and motives into a shallow, superficial character. I can argue it either way if you’re buying the drinks.
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But what a delightful correction!
Made my day!
M
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The idea that readers don’t want more than one book a year from an author always puzzled me. I don’t think I’m alone in this habit: discover a new book by an unkown author; read it; love it; go out and buy and read everything else by that author; realize there are no more books by that author; realize that the next book won’t be for another year; get depressed.
If I was reading back stock at the rate of one a week, what fool thinks I want to read new books at the rate of one a year?
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Few authors can live on the earnings from one book a year; it is supplemental income. For mid-list authors the publisher has no particular incentive to “build the brand” — and severe disincentive. One book a year keeps the power relationship in the favor of the publisher and (from the publisher’s viewpoint) mid-list authors are largely interchangeable — it just doesn’t matter which author’s book you release in July, so long as you release some author’s book.
It reminds me of the change occurring in professional sports about 50 years ago, when players’ unions began wresting the power over players’ pay from owners. Except for a few stars, most players were largely interchangeable parts, bound to their teams in perpetuity (speaking here about my sport of love, Baseball — other sports followed similar patterns differing in detail.) The team owners were able to dictate salaries and players had one choice: accept or retire (some would “hold-out” which is merely a threat to retire.) Some owners were (relatively) generous, others less so, but it all proceeded on the terms dictated by owners with players having little say.
Substitute “publishers” for “owners” and “writers” for “players” and I think you have the basis for an interesting historical analogy. No student of the history of railroads and/or automobile manufacture was surprised by the internet’s boom ‘n’ bust, merely at the speed at which it occurred. There are similarities between the various entertainment industries which might be mined for insight into the trends in publishing; in film the studios originally attempted to make the studio the brand identity and only reluctantly accepted the profits accruing from building stars — who were bound to the studio owning their contract. Has it been the standard in publishing that authors were “owned” by publishers, with a given publisher having right of first refusal or “owning” an author’s output? Wasn’t it the practice of the recording industry for a Record company to own a musician’s output? In fact, considering the matter, back in the 1970s there were several occasions of artists such as Springsteen, John Fogarty and Prince being denied rights to their own back catalogs? Is that materially different from publishers’ ownership of books?
Hmmmm … that wandered afield from where I was originally headed, but industrial/cultural patterns are more interesting than paranoia jokes.
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It is very apropos, though, really. And you are correct. It’s just new techonology freeing writers now
I love progress. REAL progress hinged on technology and knowledge, not those things imposed from above that would take us back to neolithic strong-man society and call themselves “progressive.”
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Well said. Another parallel would be the studio system here in Hollywood, where actors used to be part of a studio, and not considered a separate commodity from that system. I think free market authors is an outstanding idea.
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maybe a new association somewhat like SFWA should be started “free market authors.”
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I dunno – that might give Eric Flint the willies, given his union background, but I expect his participation would be welcome. Perhaps “Authors Resisting Tyranny”, if only so you can assert: “I may not know ART, but I know what I like”?
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Tolladay, the studio system was far different than the publishing industry.
One author working alone can create a book far easily than one actor working alone can create a movie.
In many ways the studio system was far better for the actors than the current movie industry. Under the studio system, the actor had more steady work than he does outside the studio system.
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Not so different as all that; the proper comparison with the studio is the publishing house. Publishers would probably argue (and at one time would have been right) that their provision of editing, cover and interior illustration, printing, binding, distribution and marketing were critical and the authors’ contributions merely incidental (and we’ve probably all read books that support that.)
An actor and a spotlight can create theatre far more easily than one author working alone can create a book — although that is less true than once was so. And technological advances are turning film-making into much more of a one-man operation.
There were advantages to the studio system, there were advantages to the publishing houses — but there were disadvantages as well. Too many to enumerate on both sides and secondary to the main point: publishing industry relationships are changing, and following patterns of change experienced by other industries ere this.
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Correct. It’s the same. And like the studio system, they try to keep authors not just to one house, but one editor inside the house. And what Paul said is true, too. I mean, I’m sure I got work more regularly up till now than I will from now on. It’s just that I can put stuff out now. (Imagine me laughing and mad with power. Mad, I tell you.)
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Well, there were “discussions” about authors creating “movies” from their books and when you look at all the factors going into making a movies, the differences between “movie making” and “writing a book” become more obvious.
Now if “computerized movie making” comes to the point where one person can create realistic actors, sets, etc, then “movie making” can be closer to self-publishing a book.
Still we may be getting “off-topic” here. [Embarrassed Smile]
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It is only recently that an author could realistically self-publish (vanity press aside) because only recently has technology permitted an author to print and distribute their works — and even so I wager many authors would rather not have accept full responsibility to flog their wares. And of course, time spent marketing is time not spent writing.
For established stars the demise of the studios opened opportunities (and risks — suddenly, if a movie tanked it affected their paycheck) and in publishing it is established authors who will most benefit. Newer authors who have yet to build a following will be like the supporting actors and character players post-studio, struggling to be seen through the noise and hoping to become a star.
Again, the point is that there are parallels to be observed and used as guides, not that there is a one-to-one correspondence. The railroad, automobile and dot.com boom/busts all followed a similar pattern; the idea is to identify what patterns predict the publishing industry’s route.
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Agreed. I devoured the entire Myth series once I discovered it. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered Aspiring was dead and there would be no more books…EVER.
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believe it or not, they’ve told us that if we write more than that we “devalue” the book. H*ll, even I can’t write at the rate y’all read!
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You aren’t the only author who doesn’t write fast enough for their readers. I just finished the latest Weber EARC and I want the sequel. [Wink]
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No writer can write as fast as most readers read. My fastest novel was written in three days. I can read it in two hours.
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I wonder if they can actually explain what that means and how it would work or whether it is one of those phrases that seem so obviously meaningful that nobody ever calls them on its inherent absurdity.
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They always told me if people knew how fast I can write, they wouldn’t pay me for it. This baffles me. I think I’d still have bought every Heinlein if he wrote one a day.
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It is possible to “saturate” a market with too many products, but I don’t think a single author can do so. I think you need lots of similar competing products to burn out consumers.
In addition I don’t think books are consumed in the same way hamburgers, video games, or movies are. The very nature of the way we consume them (meaning they take quite a bit of time, for most of us) means it is hard to have the spare time to read too much. And there is not a lot of repetition built into novels. While there are novels I have read many times, most of them I read only once. That is more like video game consumption than hamburger consumption (which has lots of repetition) or even movie consumption (mixed single-use, and repetition).
Sounds like you were talking with an idiot or a lier.
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Eric,
It’s more like this is something ALL traditional publishers believe.
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IME, saturation comes from the author not having a clear idea of where to take a popular series. I was not pleased with later Jack Ryan novels, as it got harder and harder to top some of the early events.
Once (a key character) got (a new skill), I lost interest in Honor Harrington’s story. Other works by Weber indicate, though, that it is not the author, but the specific character and setting that are not really appealing.
On the other side, I would gladly buy more Iron Druid, or Harry Dresden, at a rate much faster than the respective authors can write them.
So, no, “devalue” seems silly, but I might agree with “popular and long series need injections of solid premise”.
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