Hi all!
Sorry for my lapse in blogging. I’ve been a bit under the weather—and writing on my new novel quite a lot is taking up the additional energy I usually a lot to blogging. Please kindly forgive!
Some old news before I get to the heart of this post:
First, I wanted to tell you my cool news that Grand Central Publishing sold the translation rights to publish my novel in Germany and Sweden. How cool is that!?! It’s corny to say, but it’s such a dream come true. I’ve been working my whole life toward a career as a writer—and am so glad to see signs of growth!
Second, we have to pick a winner for Shobahn’s contest! So—randomly selected—the winner is…
misskallie2000
Please email me your address so I can send it over to Shobahn!
And now, on the heart of this post.
So often, I hear readers complain about writers who develop a “formula,” so that each book is so structurally similar that one is hard to tell from another. I read a Jodi Picoult novel recently (Handle with Care), and while I would never say she has a “formula,” there are elements that appear in her books again and again. Families, fragile children, medical drama, lawyers, parents faced with the question of “does the end justify the means?”.
When I read My Sister’s Keeper, I was just about killed by the ending—so so shocked. I adored the book—and I adore JP. I won’t give away anything here, but if you read it, you’ll see what I mean.
That said, because I’m pretty familiar with Picoult’s work, I sorta saw the end of Handle with Care coming this time, and thank God I did! Otherwise, you might as well have tossed my heart in a blender—such emotional, intense writing.
Anyway, as a writer, I have to admit that I’m torn between what some readers call a “formula” and what the publishing industry calls a “brand.”
We writers are expected to create “brands” of our writing. There needs to be a certain amount of continuity from one book to another, something reliable and a maybe even predictable. Maybe it’s the tone of the writing. Or the books’ larger concerns and themes.
Without continuity of some sort, readers would have no idea what exactly they’re plunking down their money for when they buy a book. And that might suck.
For example, I’m obviously writing romantic women’s fiction. But say I all of a sudden decided to write horror-style women’s fiction (I don’t even know what that would be, but I’d love to see someone try).
Readers expecting a “typical” Lisa Dale book would likely be disappointed by the horror elements, because I would have breached the code of my own branding. Readers might even feel duped—tricked into buying one kind of book only to discover they got something very different.
Or say for example, I decided to write a novel where everyone dies in the end. Now, you know I love a hopefully-ever-after. And I think to a certain extent readers expect that from me. If I decided to kill off every one someday, I think I’d alienate a good percentage of readers who have come to look for something a bit uplifting in what I write.
The examples I’m using are pretty far-out (I’m not going to write horror, and I don’t like to kill for pleasure). But it illustrates my concerns as a writer. Often times, writers who make changes to their style or voice are told by their publishers to take on a different name—in order to distinguish one type of writing from another and not damage the brand.
There’s a danger lurking under branding—namely, writing that begins to rely too heavily on formula.
I love thoughtful, lyrical books about women’s emotional journeys that offer real characters in real, difficult situations—and I love an element of romance. I have a sense that all my books will have these characteristics, because I personally—as a human being—have those characteristics. I’m thoughtful in an introspective way, I’m interested in women’s lives, and I love a good romance.
I can’t help what I write—I follow my heart, then I follow my characters. And unless my personal, fundamental nature does a 180, I don’t see how my books could.
So I wonder: In four or five books from now, will people say “Lisa writes to a formula?”
Or will they say, “Lisa is well-branded?”
What do you guys think? What authors have you followed for years and years? And do you think their books have started to feel a little predictable to you? If they are predictable, do you like the reliability of those authors, or not?
Thanks in advance for sharing your thoughts on this issue!
Much love,
Lisa Dale
Lisa: Thank you for your post, and congratulations on selling the translation rights.
To answer your questions about brand vs. formula, here’s how I see it. If a reader likes an author’s body of work or a type of book, it represents a brand. If not, it represents a formula.
In other words, the difference lies in the perception, not the substance. Which label one chooses depends on a subjective reaction rather than an objective reality.
I don’t want to single out any particular author for relying on formula. And if I did, you can bet she and her fans wouldn’t see it that way.
However, I think there’s a big problem with over-reliance on formula/branding in romance fiction in general. It’s limiting the genre and doing its readers a big disservice.
For instance, take paranormal romance fiction. When this term first arose during (I think) the 1980s, it meant any romance fiction with a significant fantasy or science fiction element.
During the 1980s and 1990s, quite a few of these elements found their way into the subgenre. The most popular was time travel, but others could be found as well.
Flash forward to today. The term paranormal romance is pretty much limited to only one premise. The hero is a vampire, a werewolf, a demon—some sort of nasty supernatural being; and the heroine is the only person who can save him from himself.
And that’s it. Very little if anything else makes its way to the paranormal romance lists nowadays.
To me, this premise represents a formula. To its fans, and they are legion, it represents a brand. The publishing industry is serving them well. But those of us who want something else in paranormal romance—anything else—are being ignored.
I can’t believe this focus on just one target readership is healthy for pararanormal-romance publishers. They could be receiving streams of revenue from the readers they are currently overlooking. They could be developing authors who write outside the box. Or outside the vampire’s coffin, whatever.
We see comparable problems in other branches of romance fiction. However, I won’t go into them here. I’ve taken up enough space.
In short, whether one uses the term formula or brand, the romance genre can use some loosening up of guidelines, of fostering diversity. It would be to everyone’s benefit.
While I think Lisa makes a strong argument in brand vs. formula – and I agree with Mary Anne in that a lot of it has to do with the perception of the reader, I have found Jodi Picoult’s novels to be extremely formulatic. Much like a recipe, they nearly always have the following “ingredients” … A protagonist, one or more family members, a cop, and a lawyer with each chapter written in a different perspective – often in a differing font. The outcomes – or meal to keep with the metaphor – vary from book to book, but the endings are always shocking. Given that Ms. Picoult has published 18+ novels in as many years, it’s apparent to me that she churns out these well-written and researched, but intense books. For these reasons, I believe Jodi Picoult has gone far beyond creating a “brand” for herself – rather she has created a formula that sells books.
On the other hand, author Anne Tyler has created a brand for herself in writing a variety of “family-based” novels based in Baltimore, MD. Unlike Ms. Picoult, that’s where the overt similarities among Ms. Tyler’s books end.
Please know that while I am critical of Ms. Picoult for being a “forumulaic” writer, I do enjoy reading her books on an annual or semi-annual basis (they are too intense for me to read more often than that). It’s clear that she has created a niche for herself – and this discussion is proof of her talent and success.
I too read Jodi Picoult, but I understand what you mean about formulas. I have come to expect what I will find within the pages. There is always a danger with authors who break away though. John Grisham when he broke away from his LAW stories was pummeled. Though I enjoyed them. There is something comforting about knowing what to expect but I like surprises too.
I never saw it like that. I have one author that has been writing the same types of romances since I’ve been reading them and I like the fact that I know what I’m getting when I pick up one of her books. I like knowing that when I am expecting this type of book, that’s what I’ll get.
Diana Palmer’s books are predictable – much older man trying to to hide his feelings for the younger heroine by being downright mean to her. Her books have gone now to the mercenary or covert type. Like her older romances much better.
Some of my fav authors are Susan Mallery, Rachel Gibson, Kate Angell, Jill Shalvis, Toni Blake, and Carly Phillips to name a few. I am never disappointed with their books.
I have read Julie Garwood, Jude Deveraux, Mary Higgins Clark and James Patterson for years. I know the type of story I will read and they are consistently good. I like that in my authors.
When I choose to read a book from a favorite author, I get the same feelings that I get when I am going home to my family for the holidays. I never know who’s going to show up and what joys and sorrows they will have to share, but I am among familiar surroundings where I feel comfortable. When I want adventure I take a trip, or try a new author. When I read John Grisham’s, ‘A Painted House’, I had already learned it was different from his usual books, and so I read it when I was looking for something new and enjoyed it. As long as I know that the book is a departure from the authors norm, I am open minded about it, just like I am about a vacation, but when I don’t know in advance, it feels like I came home for Thanksgiving and ended up in someone else’s house by mistake.
Mary Anne, You never fail to dazzle me with your knowledge of books, branding, and the romance industry. So, so glad to have you on the blog!
Suzz, Great point that branding becomes something else when we’re talking big numbers! I hadn’t considered that.
Mary, Thanks for your comments! I haven’t read Grisham in ages–I should pick him up again!
Mary, there is a certain comfort in knowing that if you buy a book, you know you’re going to like it.
Pat L. There’s writers whose early work I like better too…I’m really hoping my own writing just keeps getting stronger and stronger with time.
runner10, thanks for your comment! You are well-read!
Tia, This might be brilliant, “when I don’t know in advance, it feels like I came home for Thanksgiving and ended up in someone else’s house by mistake.” Love it!
This is a great post, Lisa. And I would add that the accusation of “formula” is leveled against female writers far more often than it is leveled against male writers. I can’t recall anyone, for instance, calling Ian Rankin out for being formulaic. Yet his Inspector Rebus mysteries certainly stick to a very specific set of parameters that he’s perfected over the course of the series. I think we need to take a broader view of the branding vs. formula debate and ask ourselves why books written by women and for women are so often dismissed as “chick lit” and written off as formulaic when similarly standardized novels aimed at male readers bear no such stigma.
Congratulations on the imminent translation of your novel!!! The honor is well-deserved!
Just a quick follow-up: Lisa, you may find this thread interesting.
http://jezebel.com/5622582/why-books-by-women-arent-serious
I appreciate PhillyLass’ observation about accusing only female writers to be formulatic. I hadn’t thought of that … I will be sure to include those male writers in my “formula-accusation.”