~ June 12, 2019 ~
“On a trip here in Denver, I went to the Tattered Cover bookstore. Always a delight to find a brick and mortar bookstore, as they become more scarce. I pulled some books off the shelf, probing them for style, content, cover art. Market research. Crichton, Herbert, Martin, and Hobb. It’s a marvel how anyone rises to such a level, with so many obstacles in publishing. It’s not even necessary to be a successful author this day and age, getting books on store shelves–but it is most impressive.
Fantasy writers all have maps of their worlds at the front, just like Tolkien. It was groundbreaking when he did it, and still nice to see in modern books. But it would be nicer to see something unique. Something special brought to the table that we haven’t seen before. So many of these bookstore authors have similar styles, twenty plus books in their catalog, dazzling covers. I know publishers control much of that and authors must compromise. Nothing against them, just perusing current offerings for what fits and what doesn’t. The more I see what’s out there, the more contrarian I feel. I want fantasy that feels like home.
There is debate among aspiring writers if they should write what the market wants, or write the book of their heart. I can’t even enter that debate. How could you write a story you don’t care about? I think most people would say the same of their interests. How could you pursue something you have no passion for? Most writers, especially the successful ones, I suspect have written the stories of their heart. God bless them and their deep catalogs of twenty, thirty, or more books. I can’t imagine that. Spoiler alert–I haven’t got near that many in me. There will be only a handful, or maybe a few handfuls, of novels to my name. There won’t be sweeping casts of characters and so many places and plots you struggle to keep it all straight. But my sincere hope and ultimate goal is that there will be that secret something I cannot seem to find much of in today’s works.”
I try to stay current, keeping a pulse on the market and learning from those who made it. And I often think something’s wrong with me. Why don’t I like this new and improved stuff as much? Why do I struggle to stay interested in the latest book I bought? Have I just lost interest in everything? It must be me. Nothing moves me, my heart strings numb. Is it not the same with movies? There’s so much streaming content available, but so little of it I watch to the end.
Confession. I’ve owned The Chronicles of Narnia for decades. I bought the white boxed set for $19.95 from Walden Books in the mall, the very store where my little brother worked once upon a time. I read the first few books long ago, and reread them recently with my son. I know you’ll think less of me, but I had never finished the entire series. I read the final book, The Last Battle, earlier this year.
My word. What a way to end a series. He saved the best for last. Look what Lewis did with just seven books. Look what Tolkien did with three! Coffeehouse legends. Some have asked me about them. That’s Tolkien at the top, my all-time favorite author, and his pal C.S. Lewis next, both as teenagers over a hundred years ago, believe it or not. The old man at the bottom is George MacDonald, the man they admired.
Speaking of old… yes, I’ll admit that’s part of the reason for disliking modern works. I’m not so old, but we favor what we grew up with, and lose touch as times change. That is part of it, but poorer quality is part of it as well. For movies, what has there been like The Lord of the Rings, The Princess Bride, You’ve Got Mail, and others of that era? Improvements in technology cannot replace high craft. It’s easy to pick a Clint Eastwood western from the 60’s that’s superb. Even if it’s one I haven’t seen, I know what to expect. Low-tech, masterful storytelling. But to pick a modern western on your streaming provider? Good luck.
I haven’t even touched on music. Suffice it to say, most of what comes out today is… not worth discussing further.
Dismal as all this may seem, it gives me hope. Let’s set our gaze on some silver linings here. For one, it shows it’s not me after all. My heart strings aren’t cut. It’s their craft. Their art–or lack thereof. The slickest studios can’t make anything worthwhile, be it film, novel, or album if the heart behind it isn’t right. Mass production and commercial gain don’t cut it. But all is not lost, and the internet age is not evil. It is a two-sided coin, opening more avenues and diluting talent. This drought presents opportunities. Some do it right, turning their passion into art to share with the world. Such works are still made, it’s just harder to find them with so many options.
Some sifting required, you might say. Much sifting, perhaps. A couple of great modern examples come to mind, but I’ve gone on long enough for now. So here I leave you, hanging on this cliff. We’ll pick up here next time. As an aspiring author, I need the practice, and I’m in your debt. This is training for reading good novels. They leave you wanting more, don’t they?
Write On,
Fellow Traveler