(Don’t) Follow Trends
When ‘write to market’ is wrong
Let’s assume you want to be a writer.
No, scratch that. Let’s assume you are a writer. Because if you have written, you are a writer. No need to be elitist about it (or about anything, really).
You are a writer but you want to become a professional writer. You want to write a bestselling novel and go on book tours and be the guest-of-honor at conventions and have strangers send you ebullient emails about how they can’t wait for your next release.
It does sound rather nice.
But how to you get from here to there? How do you get from the blank page to the finished manuscript? Well, if you’re anything like me (and you are, because all writers share the same basic madness), what follows is this:
- You get a lot of ideas. Most of them are terrible. But every so often, one of them stands out, one of them grabs hold of your imagination, sails upstream, and spawns lots of mini-ideas and suddenly you have enough material for a book.
- You sort your mini-ideas into a outline, which can vary from a mental arrangement of plot points to pages and pages of specific notes. You do this not only to make your life easier when it comes time to actually write the damn thing but also because trial and error has taught you that ideas need to be test-driven to make sure they can survive the journey.
- Finally, you are ready to write the first draft. You allot yourself the time and space and sugary beverage necessary to make the creativity flow and you write and it goes really, really well.
- Until it doesn’t. You hit in unanticipated roadblock. But you remind yourself that roadblocks are good, that painting your characters into a corner is good, that if you don’t know what your protagonist is going to do next, neither will the reader, and maybe you navigate your way out of the roadblock, but it takes a toll on your confidence.
- Your enthusiasm for the idea wanes. You second-guess its value. Novel writing is a marathon sport, and you begin to wonder if your idea is worth the effort. Almost invariably, around this time you also begin to get other ideas and you begin to wonder if those ideas are really where the action’s at.
- You abandon your original idea.
Rinse and repeat.
But what if I could tell you, here and now, that there is a way to avoid this maddening, unhelpful cycle? What if I could tell you that the reason you keep stumbling is that you’re making the process twice as difficult as it actually is? What if I could tell you that all you need to guarantee success is to read the New York Times bestseller list?
This is where we talk about trends. Because the publishing business, like all business models which co-mingle art and commerce, thrives on trends. Just a cursory glance at the bestseller lists over the past ten years reveals an assortment of trends: vampire romances, post-apocalyptic rebellions, middle-of-the-road BDSM, etc.
Wouldn’t it be easier to settle on whatever is trending and, to use the official term, “write to market?” Since your insecurity about your own ideas stems from the fact that they are your ideas, why not just borrow someone else’s ideas? Formulate an algorithm of what the most popular books in the year have in common, blend all of those elements in your own manuscript, and voilà!
From what I can gather, many people write exactly like this. They look at what’s popular, dot down the recipes, and do their best to emulate them. And far be it from me to criticize someone else’s success. Creating art is all about following whatever rules and techniques work best for your process (even if it takes a lifetime learn what rules and techniques work best for your process).
However.
I never was good at emulation. Good fashion sense for me is remembering to put on a shirt. As to aping the popular kids…well…that was never really my thing. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, and I didn’t want to. Plus, in my limited understanding of popularity, I at least could recognize that it was short-lived. All fads fade.
So where does this leave writers like me? Are we to be hamstrung and hampered because we lack the will or talent for mimicry?
No.
Also: no.
Because although it is always nice to be aware of trends, if only because as writers we should be reading everything, it is important to remember that writing is an expression of uniqueness. Nobody else shares your exact combination of experiences. Nobody else in the history of humankind ever was or ever will be you.
Use that.
If you want to formulate an algorithm, formulate one that codifies your individuality. Bask your ideas in your own special sauce. Still want to write a thriller or space opera? Great. Write your thriller. Write your space opera. All genres have their own tropes and utilizing (or subverting) genre tropes is part of the fun.
(How to differentiate: Trends are superficial. Trends are stylistic flourishes. Trends are the fins on a ’57 Chevy Bel Air. Genre is brand. Genre is the Chevy itself.)
Is this a guarantee formula for success? Heck, no. But we are less inclined to toss aside an idea as half-baked if the idea contains a kernel of us. Writing a novel, like running a marathon, like accomplishing anything of note, requires equal parts bravery and foolishness. Be a brave fool. Trust your instincts. They’re yours, after all.
Write.
