The Genre-Free Writer: Looking for the Common Thread

I've spent the last three days holed up in my writing studio, with strict instructions to all I know and love not to bother me unless the Horsemen of the Apocalypse are thundering down the street.

Much of my time I spent actually writing. However, some of my time I spent really looking at my career and my writing and deciding where I'm going to go from here. Some questions I considered were:

*  What elements connect all of my characters? 

*  What common threads run through all of my work?

*  What plots and themes most move me?

*  What one trait is vitally important to my characters?

The experience was an eye opener. One I highly recommend.

photo by mantasmagorical from MorgueFile.com

See, I've always known what I write didn't fit into an easily identified genre.

I write screenplays and poems, novels and short stories. I write science fiction, fantasy, women's fiction, children's stories, middle grade fiction, family fare, and darker, edgier stuff.  I happen to think some of the stuff I write is funny -- but realize that not everyone shares my rather warped sense of humor. It certainly wouldn't be classified as "comedy."

So I wracked my brain. Since all my writing comes from ME, I reasoned that there must be some common threads and recurring themes. And slowly -- painfully slowly -- they became clear.

I discovered several things about my writing. For instance:

*   I write quirky, unselfish characters with hidden strengths and highly individualized but uncompromising integrity.

*  I gravitate toward bittersweet stories, antiheroes, and tragic characters.

*  My characters are often trapped in situations from which they cannot safely escape, but which ultimately lead to glory.

*  Every major character of mine has almost pathological perseverance.

It literally took me hours to come up with these attributes. When I mentioned them to a writerly friend who is familiar with my work, she responded:

"It is so your writing down to a fine sharp point." 

And she's right. (Though maybe I could have saved a ton of time if I'd asked her to answer the questions for me in the first place.)

photo by andalusia via MorgueFile.com

I wish I had undertaken this exercise years ago. Though it took me awhile to find the answers, it gives me a sense of relief to have done so.

Since I don't specialize in a particular genre, it's easy to assume that my writing is fragmented; disconnected; that one work is completely dissociated from another, as if I just wander from project to project dumping word clumps on whatever happens to pique my fancy.

Ah, but it's not the genre that connects my works to each other. No. Instead, they are connected by characteristics, themes, and situations.

I now have a whole new feel for my material as a whole, rather than as a series of unconnected pieces. Better yet: I have a far greater understanding of who my ideal readers are.

*  My ideal readers like quirky characters with hidden strength and unwavering integrity.

*  My ideal readers appreciate antiheroes and the occasional bittersweet tragedy.

*  My ideal readers like to root for the underdog, knowing that sacrifice is often the key to success.

*  My ideal readers admire characters who refuse to give up, regardless of the odds.

I love being a genre-free writer. But I don't want to be a reader-free writer. Answering those four questions helped give me greater insight into my work. Now that I know what I have to offer my ideal readers, I am better equipped to find them.

Do you write genre-stuff or non-genre-stuff? What common threads connect your words? How do those threads then weave a pattern for your audience?

Leather Windows: Why Genre Matters

I facilitate a weekly Writing Practicum, where a core group of dedicated writers workshop their projects. 

One of our members is a very talented writer who specializes in BDSM erotica.  The rest of the group -- including me -- are, to put it mildly, "vanillas."  We are simply not equipped to intelligently comment on the parts of her writing that make it fall into either the BDSM or erotica genre.  We don't read it.  And we certainly don't "get it."

We're very good at discussing character, plot, motivation, clarity, structure, and execution.  But when it comes to the specialized genre-specific stuff, we implode.  We ask what must be very stupid questions.  We try gamely, but it's abundantly clear that we're not the target audience.

The experience has taught me a valuable lesson:  if this is what happens when I as a reader hit an unfamiliar genre, imagine a what happens when I put an agent in the same position.  Agents know what they want.  They tend to be very specific in their guidelines.  I would be a fool to ignore them.

On any given day, one or more agents that I follow on Twitter will post his or her query stats for the day / week / month / year.  A typical post will read:

"Number of queries received this week: 367
Number of queriers who have clearly never read agency submission guidelines: 275
Number of queries for genres I don't represent: 73
Number of partials requested: 2
Number of offers of representation: 0"

Now, while on the surface this may make querying look like the most futile exercise ever devised (and don't get me wrong: on many days I would subscribe to this theory), the numbers actually contain a message of hope instead of despair.

First, it should be obvious that refusing to read and follow submission guidelines is the quickest way for a writer to garner another form rejection to add to his or her collection. 

Guidelines tell writers how to help their submissions make it through the agent's e-mail gatekeeper (usually an intern who began as a fresh-faced naif eager to find the Next Great Novel, but who now fights falling down the slippery slope of cynicism on a daily basis from being forced to read queries from writers who flagrantly flaunt the rules).  The guidelines exist for a reason.  Disregard them at your own peril.


But I digress.  For it is the second stat that I want to focus upon.

When querying an agent, it is imperative that the manuscript in question have a clearly defined genre.

[A Short Tangential Digression for the Vocabulary Impaired:

For those who think that I am putting on airs talking in French, rest assured, genre is a perfectly good and necessary word in English.  Think of it as "shelving space."  It's the category that encompasses your book and all other books of a similar type.  The two largest genres are fiction (made up stuff) and non-fiction (true stuff).  Which should make it immediately obvious why agents and publishers point their fingers and laugh aloud at people who describe their book as a "fiction novel."  It's like calling your Hyundai an "automobile car."

The big genres have smaller sub-genres.  Fantasy, steampunk, romance, historical, mystery, western, science-fiction -- these are examples of fiction genres.  Further classification can be done by age or specialty (there are many sub-genres of mysteries, for instance), but you get the point.]

At this point, you may be thinking:

"Why is it so important for my book to fit into one of the genres my dream agent represents?  I've seen his sales stats, and they're impressive.  He could sell BP oil in the Gulf states!  So he says he's looking for YA fantasy & sci-fi.  I bet he's sick & tired of magic & quests.  I'll send him my adult crime thriller.  No doubt he'll leap at the chance to read something gritty and new.  All he needs to do is see my work, then he'll recognize my brilliance and sign me."

If so, you should reach up and slap yourself senseless before reading any further.  Go on.  I'll wait...

Imagine an artisan who makes stained glass windows.  He's well known for his windows.   Those building churches are willing to do business with him because they know they can trust his workmanship. 

The artisan is constantly looking for new glass suppliers, searching for those who can provide him with the saturated colors that make his windows a thing of beauty.  If you have gorgeous glass, he's happy to consider using it.  But if you have leather -- even if it's the softest, most supple leather on the planet -- the artisan has no use for it.  Trying to sell it to him will only waste his time.

One reason an agent specifies a preferred genre is because of the professional working relationships that agent has formed within the industry.  She may be on a first-name basis with every editor and publisher whose imprint publishes romances.  So she'd be the ideal person to shop around a well-written romance novel. 

But if you send her a similarly well-written memoir, even if she loves it, she may not be the one to try to sell it.  No one in her professional contacts publishes memoirs.  She has never worked with the editors who specialize in such things.  She doesn't have relationships with them.  Accepting your project would set herself up for an uphill climb.  It would be like making windows from leather.

Do yourself, your potential agent, and your manuscript a favor.  Know what genre your project falls into.  Then only shop it around to people who work in that genre.  You'll bypass the "wrong genre" line entirely. 

Assuming you've also read & followed the submission guidelines, you'll have broken through the masses of inappropriate submissions.  Those two simple steps will enable you to distinguish yourself from the hundreds of other hopefuls.  You may now offer the agent your beautiful glass.  The others are just collecting rejections on their world-class leather.