World in the Satin Bag

Reality Check: The Average Consumer and Books

Reality: The average consumer spends roughly 8 seconds looking at the cover of a book before deciding to pick it up and 15 seconds reading the back cover (or inside cover) before making the decision to buy it. Some of you might wonder who this average consumer is. Most of you reading this blog are likely not part of that category. Average consumers are predominately those who engage in impulse buying, who generally browse quite literally by gut and “random” instinct. They are not likely to spend hours deciding if they want a book, because they either don’t have the time or the patience to do so. As such, the average consumer does not read loads of reviews, nor do they read excerpts–they may look at reviews briefly to see the star rating, but beyond that, anything considered “extra work” by said consumers is firmly in the realm of the less-than-average. Knowing this, it’s not hard to understand why it is that so many books that become “bestsellers” tend to be of the mainstream vein, and thus, more simplistic in their prose stylings. The fact is that average consumers are not interested in reading as a product of effort; they want to be entertained. These people are the same folks who have, for so long, found television and films to be exceptional objects to spend time on, and also who the majority of the less “serious” film productions are geared towards. But you shouldn’t be put off by this. Average consumers are what keeps the book, radio, TV, film, and music industries alive. Without them there would be no Elvis, no Stephen King, no Howard Stern, and no Star Wars or Star Trek. These individuals, while perhaps now considered in a more critical light, have always been firmly in the realm of the average consumer precisely because they are entertaining. And entertainment isn’t a bad thing. Those who think that literature should be only about art are also those who are upset that what has made literature so much more acceptable and popular today and in the past are those genres and prose stylings that are more easily received by average consumers. The fact is that most book consumers are not those who are likely to read Salman Rushdie or Ernest Hemingway; while some certainly do, perhaps by a stroke of luck in seeing more “literary” works on the bargain shelves or in a pretty new cover, these instances are, more or less, flukes. Salman Rushdie may actually be a poor example here, too, since much of his popularity occurred after writing The Satanic Verses, which earned him the rank of most-hated-man-by-extremist-Muslims for a while, giving him plenty of free press. But why is any of this important? Because if you expect to do anything within the book industry, such as selling short stories or your first novel, you need to understand how the market works. You can be the best thing since sliced bread, but that means nothing to the average consumer, because ultimately what catches their interest is what will entertain them. This does not mean that you should write to the market; anybody who says to write to the market is essentially mentally defective. What this does mean is that you should be well aware of how the market functions before you become published. Write what you love, but don’t pretend that you know who the consumer is, and that you have the right to make demands upon them, or get mad at them when they don’t buy your novel in droves. The average consumer doesn’t care about you. They control the market. They will not do extra work for your incredibly complex, amazing novel; that work belongs to a different demographic of more astute, cautious readers. Ultimately, it comes down to this: the consumer is not your bitch, no matter what kind of novel you write. They are not obligated to read excerpts or to go out of their way to do what you want them to do, and most of them won’t, ever. The average consumer is far more likely to pick up the next Stephen King novel, knowing that it will suit their needs, than spend twenty minutes or an hour reading up on your fantastic new novel. But, who knows, you might get lucky and become the next Stephen King or Tom Clancy or Dan Brown (or *insert your favorite bestselling author here*). It happens, but only to a handful of authors in a bloated industry of debuts. (A lot of this is directed to self-publishers, who need to understand the market and why they must always fight tooth and nail to get even a little leeway–and also why it’s pretty much impossible for self-publishing to effectively change the course of the industry without essentially altering bookstores; that probably won’t happen until there is a way to determine quality and if self-publishers can offer the same guarantees to bookstores as traditional publishers. A lot of folks I talked with before seemed to have a perception of average consumers that is inconsistent with reality. While it’s nice to delude oneself with imaginative constructs of consumer culture, such delusions are not reality. This doesn’t mean you can’t do well self-published or published by a small press, or published with a particularly niche book; it just means that most of the market won’t know who you are or care. Trying to change that is probably a losing battle.)

World in the Satin Bag

Rejection: To Paint Lords Green

This rejection came with some good comments, I think. I’ve got a better understanding of what the market wants. Here are the comments: Unfortunately, it’s not quite right for us. The narrative was quite vivid, but it seemed to me more focused on description and less focused on Caerelyn’s character. I wanted to get just as vivid a feel for her core goal as a character, her deepest hopes and fears, as I was getting of the furnishings of the main hall of the King’s Castle. I wanted the narrative to go inside her head and give me a feel for what inner yearning was driving her through the story, and this opening didn’t provide that as much as I prefer. That’s it. It’s off somewhere else!

World in the Satin Bag

Writing Prompt #2: 500-word Story Challenge

If you missed my first writing prompt last month, make sure to check it out here and write something for it. This month the writing prompt is: Tell a steampunk revenge story involving a meerkat and a dog walker. Interpret that as you want. Steampunk seems to be a repetitive theme these days, though, but I suspect that the next writing prompt will have nothing to do with it, if such a thing can be helped. I will add my entry later. Remember, you have 500 words to tell a story using the prompt above. Keep it simple! Now have at it and leave your stories in the comments section or post them on your blog and leave a comment with the link. Oh, and have fun!

World in the Satin Bag

Materialism and the Fantasy Genre

Skimming critiques of critiques of capitalism makes you think really interesting things. Take, for example, the concept of materialism and how it relates to the fantasy genre–and more specifically its typical representations found in the big names of the genre. What does magic do to issues of hoarding, to materialism itself, and to general concerns over resources? I can’t think of many examples in which magic is used as the primary method of acquiring, well, everything the kingdom needs, but it is interesting to consider how materialism acts as a dividing force in fantasy. Individuals who hoard and who must own things are seen primarily as the enemy, or are at least on the darker side of the good guys. Harry Potter, perhaps, is one of the few series that so obviously presents oppositional forces in the world of materialism–a good and evil battle between the kinds of materialism we are familiar with today. The Malfoy family dominates much of the series as the principle nemesis family to Potter and the Weasley’s: they are wealthy, pride themselves in said wealth, and spend it with the express purpose of acquiring new and flashy things; they are the pinnacle of materialist families in the Potter universe. Harry, however, is exceptionally anti-materialist. Most of his possessions are those he has acquired not necessarily by intent, but through gift or necessity–and each of those possessions is “special” to him, having something to do with his family or his friends. Potter isn’t interested in acquiring things so much as hanging on to his links to those most important to him; the Malfoy family, however, is the opposite. And, of course, Potter is the hero, the good guy, the Chosen One. These things are seen elsewhere too. Karen Miller’s The Innocent Mage/The Awakened Mage series splits society into two distinct groups: those who typically support the King, and those that believe the King’s family doesn’t deserve to be where they are. While each of these groups are in a position of privilege and power, there is a particularly strong materialist bent in those families that do not typically support the King. These “darker” families want the throne for purely selfish reasons, while the “lighter” families want the throne to protect the Kingdom. Even the King’s magic-less son is opposed to materialist formations, rejecting much of what has been forced upon him as the son of the King. There are even splits within the royal family as well, with the princess being particularly arrogant and selfish, despite her parents’ level-headed approach to authority. But what about materialism in fantasy that isn’t definitively evil or good? How does magic influence the way the material is perceived? I can’t think of any examples, but it seems to me that if a select few individuals in a society were to have magic and were also not inclined towards ruling “normies,” wouldn’t there be a rejection of materialism in general? Why would you be a materialist if you could create anything you needed out of thin air? What of Gods? Why is it that in fantasies which contain Gods as active participants, that they are often materialist in nature? Perhaps there’s a bit of faulty thinking by fantasy writers in certain instances. It seems illogical to have materialist tendencies in societies in which magic alters the consciousness of select individuals, or even where entire societies are magically inclined. But maybe this is what fantasy does: it steals from modern society and drags it into the fantasy landscape, even if the analogy doesn’t quite compute. —————————– What do you all think about materialism in fantasy? Let me know in the comments!

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