Are we trying too hard?

[This the third in what's turned into a bit of series of articles that I've written about genre and genre commentary. Again, it's written with a bent toward spurring discussion, not attacking anyone.]

Kitschies Award poster.

The Kitschies, a series of genre awards put together by the Pornokitsch blog and Kraken Rum, will announce their winners later today at the SFX Weekender.  According to their mission statement, they want to elevate the tone of genre literature -- a nebulous but worthy goal.  When I saw the shortlist for best novel, which coincided with the publishing of Liz Bourke's review of Michael J. Sullivan's Theft of Swords and Damien G. Walter's post called 7 literary Sci-Fi and Fantasy novels you must read, I wondered to myself, elevating the tone at what cost?

When I first started reading fantasy, oh so long ago, I began where most do -- Lloyd Alexander, Terry Brooks, David Eddings, and the like.  I lost myself in a world of imagination that seemed so unlike the space I occupied while reading.  Looking back, I maintain a nostalgic affection for these authors, but no longer consider them among the better things I've read.  These were books whose covers cast me in a certain light, encouraging me to keep them obscured when in public.  As time wore on, I never stopped being self conscious about those covers, even as the quality of what I was reading improved.

In recent years, SFF bloggers (myself included) have tried to convince mainstream readers that the things we read have merit.  Awards like The Kitschies seem created, almost exclusively, to serve this purpose.  It seems as if reviews like the ones written by Bourke are geared towards eradicating a certain type of incredibly popular genre fiction and posts like Walter's almost shame (for lack of a better term) readers into reading those things accepted by the mainstream.  I believe we should demand better writing and better storytelling.  Where we differ, is that I believe in demonstrating value in the things that the mainstream rejects, not only those things they embrace.

When I made my list of best SFF books of 2011, I didn't put Tea Obreht's The Tiger's Wife on the list, even though it was the best book I read last year.  I didn't do it because, in my mind, it isn't genre.  It's got some magic, or supernatural plot devices, but only by happenstance.  It is not a Fantasy novel, rather Obreht wrote a mainstream literary novel with a hint of fantasy.  Looking at The Kitschies list, I see a few of that variety, and even more on Walter's.

I'm not denigrating what The Kitschies and Walter are trying to do.  As I stated in my opening, I think it's a worthy goal.  Among all the noise, there is absolutely a place for it in the discussion.  I simply believe we need to be careful.  I think Bourke illustrates my point.  In her recent review of Theft of Swords by Michael J. Sullivan, she eviscerates both the book, the author, and the publisher for its existence.  It's not so much her critiques of the book, but the tone with which she delivers them.  As though we should be ashamed that we bought it, or read it, or God forbid enjoyed it.

I, for one, refuse to be ashamed for what I read.  The Kitschies, or Walter's post, or Bourke's review, or any of the other host of posts and awards with similar make-up, taken in a vacuum, are a wonderful addition to the wide wonderful world of genre reading and commentary.  In fact, I can't think of many people whose opinions I trust more than the folks at Pornokitsch.  What worries me though, is the growing trend among genre commentators to laude novels that walk and talk like the mainstream at the expense of the rest.  This is akin to the pretty girl taking her best friend to prom and ditching him for the quarterback.  Who exactly are we trying to impress?

Fantasy is about divorcing from reality.  Not to escape, but to shirk the baggage that the real world brings with it.  It frees us to explore themes and ideas unhindered.  I fear that in a misguided attempt at recognition by the mainstream literary community we're ceding that freedom.  I hope I'm wrong.  I also hope that all of individuals I mentioned in this post continue to do the kind of work they're doing, pushing the genre to do better.  I know I'll be doing the same.  My only advice is that while we do it, we don't forget where we come from.

Publishing, Baseball, and Market Inefficiency

[This article contains baseball references, but knowledge of the game is not required to enjoy it.  I wrote it last year and sat on it for months, trying to make it more sensible.  I don't think I succeeded. Screw it, it's my blog I'll ramble if I want to.  I guess with last Friday's article I'm startig a bit of a series about 'State of Genre Fiction' or something like that... whatever.  Enjoy, I hope.]

The Science Fiction and Fantasy publishing world is a lot like professional baseball.  I first started reading seriously as an 11 year old middle school student.  Somewhere along the way I picked up Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time and recognized the little flame on the bottom of each book and three little letters beneath it... T - O - R.  It didn't take me long to realize that Tor Books are the New York Yankees of SFF.  Since then I've learned that Jordan's series was the equivalent of Barry Bonds (or Christiano Renaldo for European readers) -- a singular force capable of propelling his publisher into the black.

Those days are gone.  Jordan has passed away, and even while he was alive his release schedules were intermittent at best and terminally delayed at worst.  In today's marketplace maybe only George R.R. Martin, who's on a five year release plan himself, seems capable of this kind of strength.  To respond, the Big-6 publishers have embraced the model vetted for the last hundred years by the big market pro sports teams - buy proven commodities and use them until their knees turn arthritic.

A trend that demonstrates this is the glut of thief and/or assassin based low-fantasy novels.  Just look at the 2011 line-up:

Shadow's Lure by Jon Sprunk (Pyr)
Farlander and Stands a Shadow by Col Buchanon (Tor)
Shadow Chaser by Alexey Pehov (Tor)
A Den of Thieves, A Thief in the Night, and Honor Among Thieves by David Chandler (Voyager)
Among Thieves by Douglas Hulick (Ace)
Theft of Swords and Rise of Empire by Michael J. Sullivan (Orbit)
The Fallen Blade by Jon Courtenay Grimwood (Orbit)
Low Town by Daniel Polansky (Doubleday)

That's at least one title from all the major U.S. houses with the exception of Spectra who has Scott Lynch's Republic of Thieves due out this year.  Along with Republic of Thieves are these expected 2012 titles:

Shadow's Master by Jon Sprunk (Pyr)
Thief's Covenant by Ari Marmell (Pyr)
Heir of Novron by Michael J. Sullivan (Orbit)
Legend of Eli Monpress by Rachel Aaron (Orbit)
The Outcast Blade by Jon Courtenay Grimwood (Orbit)
Shadow Blizzard by Alexey Pehov (Tor)
Alchemist of Souls by Anne Lyle (Angry Robot)
Giant Thief by David Tallerman (Angry Robot)

I'm sure I've missed a handful from both last year and this, and I haven't even touched on some of the previous works like Brent Weeks' Night Angel Trilogy or Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn that continue to sell very well.  I suspect this 'trend' has a lot do with the massive success of Lynch's work and publishers gravitating toward a type of book they know will sell.  Some of them are quite good, some are decidedly not.  Most of them aren't really all that similar to each other, but that isn't really the point -- they all look similar.  I could certainly do the same exercise for vampire novels, or zombie novels, or dystopian novels and the results would be similar.  With limited acquisition budgets and shrinking shelf space (Borders), is there any question why more of these are making it to the shelves?

The Big-6 buy novels that have proven market success.  It's really that simple.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not necessarily criticizing them.  With a flagging economy, a dozen different forms of media available to consumers free of charge, not mentioning the gads of self published work available on-line for free, it's understandable that these for profit entities are going to be, well.... for profit.  But, there's a danger in that.  If the industry is just trying put butts in the seats, it runs the risk of stagnating.  Just like the New York Yankees, who from 1982-1994, despite a tremendously inflated payroll, never made the playoffs.

The Yankees have a lot of money, so even in the worst of times they're able to buy enough talent to keep their head above water (Big-6).  Still, a successful sports franchise (or publishing house, or any other business) requires new blood to stay fresh.  They have to promote young players from the minor leagues.  They draft these players or acquire them from other teams by trade, but without cheap young talent they'll end up marginalized as high priced stars age gracelessly.

Teams like the Oakland Athletics or the Tampa Bay Rays survive by investing wisely.  They front load money on young talent, hoping they pay off.  Most fail, but the ones that succeed easily cover the sunk costs of those who've fallen by the wayside.  More pointedly they apply the Moneyball (now a major motion picture) philosophy articulated in Michael Lewis's book of the same name: survive by exploiting the inefficiencies in a marketplace dominated by those who make decisions based on past outcomes.  In publishing terms these teams are Night Shade Books (NSB) and Angry Robot (AR).

Pyr and Baen might also fit in that grouping, but I've heard Lou Anders, Hugo Award Winning Editor for Pyr, say that their brand is 'quality'.  I find that both accurate, and incredibly savvy.  If I went to the Big-6 and asked about their brand, I suspect in an honest moment they'd say something like 'marketable'.  Baen has a very clear brand built around military SF.  NSB and AR have become the brand for new and unique voices.  These two have found the inefficiency in the marketplace. The Moneyball if you will.  They're exploiting risk.  Risk the Big-6 aren't willing - or more accurately don't have to - absorb.

Unfortunately, this is where my comparison falls apart.  Novel writing is an art form.  It's not just about winning (selling) or losing (not selling), but also about producing significance.  In publishing, what's more important: producing books readers should buy or producing content readers will buy?  Looking at the smaller houses I'm seeing large numbers of titles from the former with a belief that it will drive the latter.  Zoo City by Lauren Beukes (Angry Robot) is such a pastiche that I don't even know what to call it.  Kameron Hurley's God's War (NSB) also fits that lack of a marketing window.  Thomas World by Richard Cox (NSB) is such trippy novels I'm not sure who read it (other than me).  NSB alone brought 15 new authors to print last year all of which have provided new and vibrant voices to the genre.

In a new world of eBooks, blogs, and self publishing, where the reader has an infinity of choice a keystroke away, the notion of brand is going to become more and more prevalent.  When I see those letters on a book's spine, as a reader I'll know what I'm getting.  When I want to see a game full of names I know, with history and reputation, I'm going to Yankee Stadium.  I'll watch Derek Jeter trot out to shortstop for 1000th time and remember the first time I saw him as a 19 year old fresh faced kid.  But if I want to be bowled over, see something I've never seen before, I'm going to head to Tampa.  They're pushing the envelope -that's their brand.

I have no doubt that in the years ahead the Big-6 will find many of these smaller press authors in their catalogs.  At the end of the day small markets develop talent only to lose them to bigger contracts, but without these feeder systems the larger markets will stagnate.  Just imagine for a moment though what could be if the Big-6 committed to risk, driving the market not just responding to it.  Putting resources behind not just books that can sell, but books that should be read.  In the sports world, that's called a dynasty.  I guess for all the small and medium presses I'll keep my fingers crossed that doesn't happen.

[Before the comments get going, yes I realize the Big-6 do take risks on unknown authors.  That's not the point I'm making.  The point is they don't take many, if any, risks on things that have a questionable market.  Also, keep in mind this is a piece meant to provoke discussion, not to demagogue an issue that ultimately I am only tangentially informed on.]

Importance of Genre in Reader Expectations

Beaulieu, Cole, Pape, and Ahmed. Photo by Patrick Wolohan

At Epic Confusion last weekend, I sat in on a panel about genre-blending.  It was moderated by Myke Cole, but included authors Bradley Beaulieu, Scott Lynch, Saladin Ahmed, and Cindy Spencer Pape.  Cole, after a little talk about how each of the panelists' novels were genre blending in some way, posed the question -- what significance, if any, does genre have to a writer/publisher outside marketing?  The panel mostly agreed that it had none -- nor should it.  That got me thinking.  Value or not, genre and marketability have a tremendous amount to do with which novels editors buy, and even more with how they're presented to the marketplace.

On an earlier panel, author Kameron Hurley (God's War, Infidel, and the forthcoming Rapture) commented that several large publishing houses passed on her novel because they just didn't know how to market it.  Was it science fiction? Fantasy? Having read the novel, I can see where these houses were coming from.  What Hurley wrote is unique.  It's got flavors of gritty fantasy, but there's nothing remotely 'fantastic' about the world or plot.  Even the magic system seems more like biotech than wizardry.  Neither is it science fiction.  None of her 'speculations' have even the tiniest connection to actual science.  The fact is, God's War was lucky to see the light of day.  Night Shade Books took a chance on it.  Because it doesn't have a genre, it's a veritable boondoggle of marketing.

So how does that impact the reader?  That's a harder question to answer, and to do so I have to ask two more.

1. How are genres marketed to readers?  
2. And is the reader harmed by their own predisposition to spend money only on those things they know they'll enjoy?

To the first question, genres are marketed to readers primarily via cover design.  Perhaps, in the modern electronic world, genre has become a search term in and of itself, but even in cyber-shelf-space I find myself attracted to titles based on their covers.  Let's say I love literary fantasy.  Give me something with beautiful prose, some deep undercurrents, and I'm sold.  In that case, Glen Duncan's, The Last Werewolf, cover says all that right things, where Karen MacInerney's Leader of the Pack... doesn't.   Unfortunately, it seems the only time we get a cover like Duncan's is when a publisher is trying to target crossing over into the 'mainstream' (cue ominous music).

The fall-out of that is that covers will (most often) reflect those aspects of the novel that target a genre demographic.  Case in point, Saladin Ahmed's Throne of the Crescent Moon and Myke Cole's Shadow Ops: Control Point, two novels due out in February.  Both covers are done in a cartoonish style that calls to mind kinetic action, promise of violence, and tangible magic.  They offer nothing to suggest that beneath the surface Ahmed and Cole actually pose weighty questions to their readers.  They're being marketed to the so-called 'fan boy'.

At the risk of being overly illustrative, I'd point out another interesting cover conundrum.  Bradley Beaulieu's debut novel, Winds of Khalakovo, was presented with a beautiful artistic rendition of an airship listing in a mountain pass.  The sequel, Straights of Galahesh, features a character driven illustration of the novel's protagonist leaping from an airship into the open air.  It suggests action and excitement, but does nothing to communicate true tone of the novel so well captured by the previous volume.  Will the new style sell more books?  I'm almost sure.  Does it send the right signals to the reader?  I'm not convinced, and therein lies the answer to my second questions.  Do genres harm readers?  The answer: you're damn right.

Genres create a false paradigm.  One that presumes that every book is like another, when in fact they are all unique.  Does Douglas Hulick's Among Thieves call to mind Scott Lynch's Lies of Locke Lamora?  Yes, but the truth is they bear little resemblance to one another.  Yet for the next twenty years they'll be spoken of in the same breath, bear covers that communicate their similarities, and few who don't like one will ever read the other.  And why?  Because marketing demands they be akin.  Forget the fact that they sound nothing alike and are built of entirely different foundations.  As far as an a publisher is concerned, a thief is a thief and that's the reader to target.

For Ahmed and Cole that means fan boy.  What I lament is that those same readers will never find Jo Walton's Among Others or Paula Brandon's The Traitor's Daughter, all because they are presented in such a way that make readers pause and say, 'that doesn't look like it's for me.'  Sound familiar?  That's the same thing every literary critic has said for the last fifty years when they walk by the Science Fiction & Fantasy section.  In allowing genres to persist, largely due to marketing concerns, I believe genre publishers are limiting themselves.  For every reader gained by producing something that fits a genre niche, another is lost who would never try such a thing.

What's worse, is that once an author finds a market it becomes almost impossible for them to do something else.  Their agents and editors want more of what sells, not necessarily more of what they want to write.  Writing is an artform as much as it's a business, and reading should be as much an appreciation of the art as it is an escape.  Genres retard that process.  It provides a path of least resistance to readers when it comes to choosing their next novel, allowing the publisher to continually target the same types of novel again and again.

Look, I get it.  It's a publisher's job to sell books.  They have to make a value judgement on each novel and find a box for it.  Meanwhile, readers will spend their hard earned money on titles they are sure to like.  It is a self fulfilling prophecy, but not one I have to like.

Do I?