Great Idea, Great Execution

Finding the balance

Dear Desperados,

It has come to my attention that we writers have an unusual personality quirk that is not shared by, well, most people. We find all too many things curious and interesting, and worthy of further investigation. And much of what we encounter, we believe, are poem-worthy or story-worthy events. It’s one of our best qualities, this curiosity and appreciation for all lives, human and animal, for all sorts of oddities, natural and man-made, both “inner” and “outer” weather, to paraphrase Robert Frost. When I was teaching, I used to think, and say sincerely to my students of almost everything they brought in, “Yes, yes! That would be a great story; if you tell it well, publishers will go wild! Your life, your one small discovery, your one unusual trait, or this one person who did something mildly unusual in 1906 in Kelowna, this can be a book, and with care it can be a good one.” Write it, I’d urge, and write it well. It will find its audience. That is what I believed. It is what I want to believe. The only problem is, it isn’t true.

Poets, especially, are bad at judging what is marketable. We’re the worst at being led along by our curiosity. (Yes, guilty. I’ve published four books of poetry) Poets think, “Why, who wouldn’t want to read a few lines about me observing snails attempting to scale the same stone wall at different seasons? Who wouldn’t want to buy many books about the year I developed chronic plantar fasciitis while pregnant with my first child? And who could fail to appreciate this sonnet on my conflicting emotions when I realized I had contracted the same venereal disease as James Joyce?” Poets are eternally optimistic about such things, never quite believing that the answer is generally, “Five people, if you bring wine.”

But readers? They maybe don’t share that great surging curiosity. They want the extraordinary, the larger than life, the high-concept idea told in unforgettable prose. That is why I encourage desperate writers to work, at least tangentially, in publishing. There is no other cure, no other method of bringing our glorious hopes down to a more marketable level. (Being in a book club of readers--not writers--is also helpful at reorienting that curiosity toward what could actually catch a publisher’s eye)

Publishers are the portal. Where it becomes confusing in a country like Canada where publishers are subsidized is that many of these just slightly above ordinary stories are published by small presses, and then writers’ hopes are dashed when nothing happens. Literally nothing happens. It doesn’t have reach. It’s only briefly interesting. Just like us.

There are so many stories, so many lives that are just that: briefly interesting. All of us reading: just fireflies, flickering. But a story that endures, that rises up and grabs readers by the shoulders, is precious and rare. Maybe a writer gets one in a lifetime. Two if they are very lucky. The vast majority get none.

Here’s where it gets interesting, though.

Erik Bork is an author I came across recently. His book THE IDEA: The Seven Elements of a Viable Story for Screen, Stage, or Fictionwas so refreshing because it was the opposite of many other books that simply encourage writers to keep writing, to keep their words coming across the page. This is exactly what writers want to hear, but maybe not what they need to hear. Erik Bork says the opposite. He says we should spend the majority of our time on getting a great idea. “...most books on screenwriting--then and now--don’t spend a lot of time on just the idea. There is so much to say about story structure, character, and the writing process itself (not to mention navigating “the business”) that picking what to write in the first place often gets short shrift. And writers often give it short shrift, too.”

Whoa, I thought. That’s crazy talk right there. Revolutionary talk! (Remember, I come from the La La Land of Poetry, where nothing is off-limits for exploration. Apropos of nothing, I have begun swimming again in the cold Pacific ocean, happy immersions in icy water, and sometimes the urge to sit naked on the beach and write poetry rises up in me once again like spring sap, until I go under, until I go numb. Oh, but it’s glorious!)

THE IDEA is different. Read it for yourself. I’ve reached out to Mr. Bork to see if he’ll talk to all of us Desperate Writers about how we can tell if an idea is worthy. I’m delighted to say that he has agreed! For those of you who want to know if your idea has potential before, you know, devoting YEARS of your life to it, this is the book for you. Stay tuned for our interview; this is going to be fun and useful!

But here’s the caveat.

I wrote to my agent to mention my excitement after reading this book, and she said (I paraphrase) “Not so fast, bucko!” (she would never say that.) She reminded me that a great idea matters but it also requires a great execution for her to sell it. And then she pointed out that we still don’t know (and we may never know) why some books spark such passionate responses in readers. (Isn’t that wonderful that we don’t know what makes us fall in love? I feel an urge to write a poem!)

My agent represents The Correspondent in Canada, a book that is a number one bestseller in North America and the UK, a book that gained that status almost entirely by word of mouth, simply because readers fell in love with it. But from its description, it doesn’t seem like this author had necessarily landed on a Great Idea. I moseyed over to Goodreads. The Goodreads book description truly doesn’t sound much like a book that would move copies:

“Filled with knowledge that only comes from a life fully lived, The Correspondent is a gem of a novel about the power of finding solace in literature and connection with people we might never meet in person. It is about the hubris of youth and the wisdom of old age, and the mistakes and acts of kindness that occur during a lifetime.”

And yet, the reach of this book has been astonishing. I haven’t yet read it; I’ll be bringing it to Paris with me in just over a week--but I expect I will find unforgettable characters in situations readers relate to, a great execution that has elevated a good idea to make an extraordinarily popular book.

Speaking of Paris, I’ll be off in just over a week, and will do my utmost to bring you some of the literary delights of the City of Light while I’m there. We won’t have a Zoom workshop for paying subscribers in May, as I’ll be away, but check back in June. In the meantime, keep your curious empathy (just don’t fool yourself that everyone has it) believe in the potential of stories, even small stories--but also, don’t let the marketplace break your heart. Go in with clear eyes. Not without hope, but with realistic expectations.

Luckily for us, my agent has also agreed to give us an interview in which she’ll talk about how she knows that a manuscript is one she wants to take on, why she so frequently has to pass, and what writers should know about the business and industry that will empower them as they choose their next writing project.

Ideas are common. Great ideas are rare. We’ll learn more about how to brainstorm and how to tell the difference in the coming weeks, before you’ve squandered too much time and too many years. As you are thinking of your next book, it helps to clarify your goals. If you want to be publishing commercial fiction or writing screenplays, a great idea matters more than anything. If you are focused on literary fiction, you need a great idea AND a great execution. Aim high, my Desperados. Aim high.

In the meantime, stay true; stay curious, and always stay desperate.

Bisous a tous!

Rachel