Jennifer Crusie's Blog, page 143

Questionable: How Do I Know What Genre My Book Is?

Judy asked:

I have written a novel and I am having trouble determining genre. It’s a romance for sure. It has suspense for sure. But it also has ghosts. No other paranormal elements- just ghosts. It doesn’t have that goth somber flavor. Is paranormal romantic suspense a genre? If so can it be paranormal when the only thing supernatural is ghosts?

So let’s talk about genre. Genre means “kind,” so when you’re deciding on what kind of book you’re selling (not writing), all you’re doing is slapping a label on it.

Why do you need to label it? Well, while you’re writing it, you don’t, you just write the story that you need to tell. But when you take the story to market, your story needs a label the same way cans of soup need a label: so people know if they want to buy it. Getting people to buy things is called marketing, and your publisher will have an entire department of people to do that. First of course you have to get it to an editor, and you can say in your cover letter that this is a paranormal romance or whatever, but I’d stick with “novel” and then do that paragraph/blurb that describes the book in such a way that she’ll want to buy it.

Why not specify a genre? Because it limits you. True story: My agent Meg once repped this wonderful romance about a woman who meets the love of her life while swept up in a mystery. She sent it to an editor she thought would love it, but she did not say, “This is a terrific romance.” Which was good because the editor called her and said, “We love this mystery!” and Meg said, “We do, too!” and the author is now a multiple Edgar winner. Let the people who are going to sell it decide what to call it. They’re good at that.

If you’re going to self-publish or you feel you must specify a genre, make it as vague as possible. So I’d say your book is a romance. Romance is always a good label, the stuff sells steadily no matter what. Paranormal is evidently on the way out and suspense seems to be weakening, too. but romance? Never going away. Every descriptor you add after that is a reason for somebody to reject it. (ETA: If you’re selling online, you can add tags for other genres, but unless those other genres are primary, don’t use them as the major descriptive category.)

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Happiness is Waking Up in the Middle of the Night and Not Caring Because You Can Sleep Late

So I had an idea for a happiness post, but it was grouchy. And then I got distracted by other things (like reading a novel that was kind of annoying but finishing it anyway) and fell asleep, only to wake up at 5AM and remember that I hadn’t put up a happiness post. And that made me happy because (a) I still had plenty of time to get it up and (b) I could sleep in as late as I wanted. It’s a feeling so luxurious that it’s almost obscene: I don’t have to get up tomorrow. Aside from having three dogs looking at me anxiously if I sleep til noon*, nobody cares. Ahhhh. Happiness.

What made you happy this week?

*I believe in Britain they call this a “lie-in.” Who says I’m not bi-lingual.

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Cherry Saturday, October 12, 2019

You know, sometimes I look up the holidays and there’s just nothing there I want to talk about. Like today is Old Farmers Day. I have nothing against old farmers, I come from farm country and one of the best men I’ve ever known was my father-in-law who farmed part time with his mail route. Lovely man who died way too young. It’s also arthritis day, but I don’t feel like dwelling on something that keeps my friends in so much pain (and I know I’m due any time). There were good days we missed. Friday the 11th was Egg Day. I could sing songs to the beauty of eggs. It was also Coming Out Day, which I am also all for; nobody should be in the closet about anything. And the day before that was Cake Decorating Day and Handbag Day, both of which would have had wonderful visuals. (It was also Porridge Day and Hug a Drummer Day, and in my experience, both of these are Bad Idea Days.).

We’re just going to have to go with Old Farmers. Hug one if you can find one.

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Random Friday

I remember being in a car back in college with a driver at the wheel who was stoned. It was terrifying. That’s what being an American feels like right now for me. Apologies to the governments of Ukraine, Australia, and Finland. Syria, apologies aren’t enough. We’re better than this. Also, shout out to England which has it’s own terrifying leadership. At least Johnson isn’t trying to corrupt the whole damn world while selling out to dictators. Rather than bury my head in the sand (or in my book which must be finished) I’ve been cleaning and cooking and reading and writing and whistling in the dark (mostly Elton John’s “Nikita,” that sucker is a real ear wig). Also got my stitches out, took down the curtains in the two bedrooms to have them dry-cleaned, and bought Veronica some more t-shirts. Anything but look at the damn news.

Karl-Heinz Wellmann from WikipediaI’m starting to think that bok choy is one of the building blocks of the universe. I’m putting it everything lately, the crunchy whites go into the pan first and then the leafy greens at the end. I do not like dark leafy greens although I will sigh and add spinach at the end of pasta because it’s Good For Me, but I love dark bok choy leaves. Turns out that what I’ve been eating is Shanghai bok choy, which is fine by me: “Raw Chinese cabbage is 95% water, 2% carbohydrates, 1% protein and less than 1% fat (table). In a 100 gram amount, raw Chinese cabbage supplies 13 calories and is a rich source (20% or more of the Daily Value, DV) of vitamin A (30% DV), vitamin C (54% DV) and vitamin K (44% DV), while providing folate, vitamin B6 and calcium in moderate amounts (10–17% DV)” [Wikipedia]. Plus the stuff is just gorgeous to look at.

The Washington Post had an article on Steve Miller (the musician, not that vile bigot who works in the White House), who is evidently difficult to work with, a perfectionist who’s kind of a jerk. I can sympathize; I told Krissie that I knew I had a reputation as a real bitch in the industry and she said, “Well, you have a reputation for being outspoken.” Which is not the same thing as being a truth-teller, by the way. It just means I’m tactless. I should work on that. So I was feeling some sympathy for Steve Miller already and then I read this about his approach to writing: “I had choices to make,” says Miller. “You have to be really disciplined, but at the same time you want to get this great, spontaneous feeling on the record and you know you’ve got three seconds to capture people’s attention at the very entrance of a song.” That’s writing a novel, right there. Music, painting, fiction, it’s all the same at the bottom: reach people with clearly defined work that’s spontaneous and disciplined. And if you’re writing romance, you do it backwards in high heels.

I want to start painting again. I say that every year and never do, but I might actually do it this time. I’m fairly sure that all my paint tubes dried up years ago, but the brushes are still good. I’m not looking forward to stretching canvas again, but I can gesso hardboard with the best of them. Or maybe I’ll just finally paint that rug on the floor I’ve been thinking about for years. I was going to do something geometric with flowers and then realized I could put the dogs in there, too, and then maybe the grandkids, and then maybe Krissie as a flying nun. It’s my floor, I can do whatever I want with it. Cogitating now.

In the meantime, there’s collage. I keep finding stuff for the Paradise Park collage even though Alice is in my head. I have the starts of the Haunting Alice and Stealing Nadine collages somewhere, probably in the garage, so I should dig those out, too. The air is brisk these days, but still not nippy, so today is a good day to crawl into the garage (there’s a lot of stuff in there to crawl over) and get my magic books and ghost books that I bought years ago for Alice and the collages.

If I can find my copy of Michael Gilbert’s The Long Journey Home that would be good, too, since it’s not on Kindle and I really would like to reread it. I’m not sure why I love that book so much, it’s not my kind of thing at all (bad things happen to good people and then worse things happen to the bad people who did the bad things), but I think it might be because it addresses a pretty common fantasy: What if you could just walk away from your life? The protagonist is a wealthy Englishman who gets on a plane in Italy, decides to get off without telling anybody, and then finds out later that the plane went down and he is missing presumed dead. He can call his business and tell them he’s alive (he has no family), or he can just start walking. It’s an exhilarating story, full of competence porn, and then people he likes are murdered, and he turns to vengeance competence porn, which is also satisfying, especially right now when the bad guys appear to be getting away with treason (grrrrrrr). Gilbert is like Dick Francis that way: his Bad People are really bad, but then they come to really bad ends. Catharsis. (I don’t know where the British got their rep for being phlegmatic; Gilbert and Francis both have vicious streaks when it comes to putting down evil.) I could buy the paperback new for $860.48 plus $3.99 shipping, but I think I’ll just look in the garage. (Seriously, who buys a paperback for $860?)

Speaking of outrage, my BookBub list had TWO slept-with-her-professor-isn’t-it-romantic romances in it. Sweet Jesus, people, NO, that’s not romantic, it’s an abuse of power and it almost always ends in disaster for the student, if not the professor, too. Don’t sleep with your professor. Don’t sleep with your boss. It’s ICKY. Bleah. Must think better thoughts. Quick change the subject. Or get brain bleach. BLEAH.

Okay, new thought. You know what I like about October? Pajamas. Good, soft, cosy knit pjs. I have Nita’s poodle pjs, but they’re flannel which is good, but not as good as medium-thick knit. Also long knit nightgowns. There are times in the winter when long knit nightgowns and knee socks are pretty much what I wear 24/7. Which reminds me, Walmart (it’s where I get my prescriptions filled) had Nightmare Before Christmas knit sleep shirts that went down to the knees, which was great, BUT they also came with over-the-knees stripped sock which was FABULOUS. I’m probably spending the winter in them, flashing my socks whenever I take the trash out.

Fortunately, my neighbors are open-minded. It helps that my house is not in their eyeline (lots of trees and forsythia) except for Kathleen, the back of whose house faces mine and who spends a lot of time in her kitchen which has windows that overlook mine so she can make fun of me when I try to back into my driveway. She opened her window once when I’d backed over my peonies again and said, “Jen, when you moved in seven years ago, I told you not to worry, you’d get the hang of backing in there. I was wrong. You’re never gonna get it.” This is true, but it’s not something that keeps me up nights. The peonies were done anyway. Of course Kathleen is also the person who opened her window and yelled, “Jen, are you all right?” when I tripped and fell at the end of the driveway trying to fix my shoe while walking (I’m a multi-tasker). I wasn’t even on the first bounce before she was offering aid. And when Veronica sashayed out in her new T-shirt for the first time, Kathleen opened the window and said, “Oh, I LOVE Veronica’s shirt.” And when the rescue squad showed up last December at 6AM because I had vertigo and couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on, Kathleen was out there like a shot, taking care of me and answering questions because the vertigo was so bad it was hard to talk. What I’m saying is, Kathleen is the best. Our politics are completely opposite, as is our approach to religion, and it doesn’t matter. We’re friends. Kathleen restores my faith in human nature daily. Which is good because it needs to be restored daily these days.

So I went out to the garage and dug out my Alice research and what was left of the Alice collage which turned out to be mostly a ripped up and bent background. It also turns out that when you think about a book for six years, you accumulate a LOT of research. I can put the collage back together and start collecting images since I have a really good grip on it now, but the research . . . I’m gonna be doing a lot of reading.

Now I’m thinking I might go to Walmart and get more of those sleep-shirts-with-socks. You know those suckers are going to sell out. That would mean changing out of my blue-striped Ellen Degeneres pjs (woven, not as good as knit but lovely and cool for summer) and getting in the car and driving into town, but I could also drop off the curtains at the dry cleaners and possibly pick up some crab rangoon while I’m at it (there’s a lot of crab rangoon in Nita). Although I have much cooking to do today: the fridge is full of bok choy and steak and I’m thinking stir-fry and steak sandwiches (I bought ciabatta rolls and tomatoes and mozzarella) and also I’m thinking my bedroom is sunny and warm the dogs are all snoozing and maybe I’ll just stay home in pjs all day and write. And read. And eat.

And not look at the news.

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This is a Good Book Thursday, October 10, 2019

This week I read Lori Gottlieb’s Maybe You Should Talk to Somebody. I was thinking that Alice would talk to a therapist, and while I have plenty of experience of therapy, I thought this might be good for looking at therapy from the outside, or in this case, both sides. Excellent book; it lived up to all the hype around it.

What did you read this week, wonderful or otherwise?

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Working Wednesday, October 9, 2019

I worked until 5AM and then fell asleep over my laptop.

What did you work on this week?

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Possibly Not the Kitchen Sink

Last night I made stirfry because I had a bunch of food that was about to go south, and you can put anything in stirfry. So I did. It’s not bad–just had some for lunch–because it turns out if you pour enough tamari and sesame oil and garlic on vegetables, they always taste good. But it was lacking direction. There’s so much stuff in there that I just added chow mien noodles and concentrated on the tamari and the crunch. I mean, it has to be healthy–green beans, peas, mushrooms,bok choy, celery, scallions, half a tomato left over from my sandwich, garlic–but there wasn’t any there there. I’m thinking that’s what happened with the first draft of Nita.

I just kept throwing in things that I wanted to write. People with fire on their palms. Twins. Businesses with awful pun names. Ranger Rich. Socks. Cthulhu. Jimmy. Jeo falling for Daphne. The Hotels. Button the Demon Slayer. Thanatos as grandpa. Ukobach’s father, for god’s sake. Belia and the panic at the hellhound breeder. Rab’s romance with the newspaper guy. Breakfast. Mom, the serial killer. And that’s not the half of it. What is this book about? Oh, right, two cosmically-out outsiders falling in love. Huh.

I think the key is that that’s all good in a discovery draft, swing wide. But then in the NEXT draft, you start with your spine–Nita and Nick falling in love–and you pare away everything that doesn’t attach to that spine.

So what does have impact on the romance?

• Twins actually undercuts Nita’s isolation, so Mort has to go.

• Jeo and Daphne are a foil for Nick and Nita and a plot point. I’ll keep the set-up but nix their HEA.

• The socks become a plot point in the romance. They stay.

• Cthulhu. Not sure about that. I love it that it’s in there and that Nita has a stuffed one, and that Nick uses is as an analog to his reptile brain/id/emotions waking up, and Nita proposes it as the Big Bad and Nick starts to use it, too, showing their adapting each other’s language. Plus it’s a metaphor for what the big bad is doing . . . I think I can keep it.

• Dumb names for businesses. This does nothing for the romance, but it’s good for setting, so I’ll cut them back. I don’t need lists, just a couple of names and then wherever the characters go.

• Ranger Rich’s smite is a major move in their relationship. He stays. And goes on the page, of course.

• The Hotels (and Dorothy and Mr. Alcevedo) are needed as victims, but I don’t need so much of them. Nita and Nick argue about them . . . tie them closer to the relationship and they can stay.

• Thanato as grandpa and Ukobach’s dad: now that I see them together, they’re part of that family thing. Nick’s family is all dead (he thinks, he doesn’t know about the art gallery in Ohio), Nita’s dad being all in even if he’s not her biological father, Nita accepting Thanatos as grandpa, Ukobach sneaking onto Earth to get his kid out of Hell Jail, Keres as warrior sister, Mom coming to the rescue at the end, the team becoming family . . . that’s all a mess, but if I got a grip on it, it would be part of the romance as a move to community, pulling everything together. Must cogitate.

• Jimmy. He’s dead, let him go.

• Belia. Well, Belia stays, but I need to tie her closer to the romance; she gets there in the end, but right now she’s pretty much Ficelle Central. And I’m keeping the poodle.

• Rab’s romance. Sigh. I don’t think it’s working, and it’s not supporting the main plot. But I liked it. Maybe if I do a sequel.

I know there’s more stuff that should go–Vinnie pretty much disappears in the last half of the book, that scene with Dorothy and the doilies is out as is the devil bear Nick buys from her–but I think I can save the stuff that sticks to the romance plot while throwing overboard everything else. It’s the romance, stupid.

Moral: Everything and the kitchen sink is fine for discovery drafts, but then prune that sucker right away or you’ll grow attached to the stuff that doesn’t matter. Which I will certainly keep in mind when I start Alice and the next time I make stir fry.

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Happiness is Dogs in Shirts, aka Your Moment of Dog

The vet suggested Veronica start wearing t-shirts because her legs are so short (inbreeding, do not do it) that parts of her chest hit the ground, so we stopped by Petsmart and found a pink t-shirt that said “Miss Understood” on markdown ($2.50!). I tried it on Veronica in the store, and she not only was not traumatized by the experience, she clearly felt this was what her life had been missing up to now. However, she is a dog who’s built very close to the dirt, so that shirt was going to get grubby fast. I went on Amazon, found cheapo shirts and ordered several. When they came, I tried them on Mona and Milton, too, and discovered a new happiness: Dogs in Shirts.

Mona and Milton were not nearly as happy with the idea of dressing up as Veronica: Their shirts were too small, so I returned those and got different ones. Mona is now happily rocking a blue and white striped tee, and Veronica keeps her Miss Understood shirt because it’s perfect for her. Milton continues to reject all sportswear, preferring to go natural, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time, or more precisely, temperature until his old eyes start looking at quilted hoodies as a Good Thing.

What was your happy this week?

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Cherry Saturday, October 5, 2019

October is Pizza Month.

Pizza is such an amazing food, so versatile, can be so healthy, no forks needed, it’s just a genius culinary accomplishment. I have also lately become a convert to mozzarella and tomato slices on naan, which I feel is close enough to pizza to qualify. Maybe some mushrooms, a scattering of oregano, maybe a little basil, possibly some onion . . .

A local pizza place does a great Chicken Caesar salad pizza. The crust acts as a giant crouton, and then the dressing is the sauce with chopped lettuce and chicken as toppings. It’s really good. My fave regular pizza? Onion, mushroom, black olives. The basics.

And then there’s your basic Heart Attack Slice: sausage, pepperoni, tons of cheese, white flour crust. Disturbingly good.

What’s your pizza poison?

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This is a Good Book Thursday, October 3, 2019

The new Aaronovitch book has been pushed back to Feb. 2020. I would. say something snarky about writers who don’t meet their deadlines, but then karma would bitch-slap me. I had no time to read fiction this week, but I’m accumulating a nice collection of research for the winter, so I’ll be reading as soon as I get Nita out of here. (Please god let that be soon.)

What did you read this week?

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