GENRES, SUBGENRES AND SUBSUBGENRES

Or: Why You Should Embrace Pigeonholes

Book genres

Agents and Publishers are keen to pigeonhole writers into ever more restrictive book genres. What used to be Sci-Fi/Fantasy became Fantasy became Paranormal became Urban Fantasy became Dark Urban Fantasy became Dark Urban Fantasy with Romantic Elements.

Uhm. Seriously?

Authors spend valuable time figuring out the category their work falls in. Most of the time, their books are wedged firmly between two subgenres. Which do they choose? But choose they must, because agents and editors demand ever more specific classifications. Do readers really care? Not so much. Artificial distinctions won’t overtly affect whether or not anyone reads your book. I’m an avid reader, yet I don’t care if you write Dark Urban Fantasy with Romantic Elements or a lighter variety of vampire fiction. If you have an effective blurb, a great cover and a descriptive title, readers will find you. Right?

Well, maybe. There is one very specific way in which authors directly benefit from pigeonholing themselves.

While your specific genre might not mean a lot on the face of it, let’s examine this back-to-front, starting with the reader.

Case study: Ms. Gertrude Sample

A reader, let’s call her Gertrude, likes Kim Harrison and Jaye Wells. Gertrude’s friend Barney might surmise she likes Urban Fantasy with witches. If Barney were to recommend a book to her, he’d pick another series featuring witches. Makes sense, doesn’t it? However, only a limited number of books with this particular element exist, and Gertrude is hungry for more reading material.

If Gertrude likes Kim Harrison, perhaps she also digs Patricia Briggs. It’s then reasonable to assume she likes witches, vampires, werewolves and hopefully shifters generally. Barney’s list of recommendations grows.

Once Gertrude has exhausted this list, what next? Perhaps she also has an interest in other supernatural/preternatural creatures from lore, e.g. succubi, satyrs, fae, and so on. Fantastic. That’s another twenty or thirty titles to add to Barney’s list.

Three months later, Gertrude’s back for more. Instead of rolling his eyes at his demanding reader friend, Barney mines more remote subgenres. How about demons and angels? Or Urban Fantasy with worlds and beings hitherto unheard of? Oh, and how important is the romance angle in Gertrude’s decision-making process anyhow?

Finally, after a lot of reading, Gertrude reaches the huge crop of books generically referred to as Urban Fantasy. But she had to read hundreds and hundreds of books along the way.

At what point might Barney recommend my books to Gertrude? My first book Divide and Conquer features no creatures from lore. Instead, I built a new world with new conflicts and new preternatural elements. It specifically appeals to readers who like fun reads, with major plot twists, a hidden world separate from everyday Seattle, and a healthy but not overwhelming splash of romance. Shoot! There is no category for that. Perhaps I should make up my own. I will promote it as Multiworld Urban Fantasy with Romantic Elements. Catchy, eh? But how is Gertrude going to find me? She will have to work her way through a frak-ing long index before she stumbles on Multiworld Urban Fantasies with Romantic Elements on Barney’s list. So in the year 2026, then?

Okay. Perhaps it doesn’t need to be quite that precise. Let’s just call it Urban Fantasy with Original Worlds. Still, it’ll take a long time before I can count Gertrude as one of my readers.

Case study: Ms. Shaniqua Sample

Now, Gertrude’s estranged sister Shaniqua loves Amanda Bonilla. She loves the love triangle, the idea of hidden worlds and beings that have been around a long time. Since Divide and Conquer has some of these elements (a hidden world, romantic elements, beings with unusual powers), Shaniqua should discover my book pretty quickly. Even without Barney’s help. Because we have both built original worlds.

My second book, Guarded, features werewolves, vampires, demons, and one spunky satyr detective learning about her place in a world she’d rather not live in. Even though it features creatures from lore, the book is not concerned with their agendas. No vampire politics, werewolf hierarchy issues. Yet I would comfortably place it alongside Kim Harrison and Patricia Briggs. No doubt Gertrude will pounce soon. Shaniqua? Nope. Not a chance.

Not unless Shaniqua and Gertrude bury the family hatchet and reconnect over a cup of tea and a good ol’ yap about books, during which Gertrude recommends Guarded to Shaniqua.

Aha!

Categories help you find your ideal audience quickly. Hopefully, your Getrudes will leave positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads and tell their non-cyber friends and estranged sisters about your book. Before you know it, Shaniqua and her friends will have found you through word-of-mouth, no matter if they normally read your specific genres or not. (Incidentally, if readers who can’t stand your specific genre won’t read your book, they can’t leave negative reviews either.)

What this comes down to

Even though as readers we might casually declare our love for Urban Fantasy, we have preferences. We have books or authors we are drawn to like the lines of a triangle. If new authors provide their readers with a suitable comparison, they might find each other more quickly, and the word-of-mouth campaign can start. But advertise yourself as an “Urban Fantasy” author, and you’ll be at the bottom of a very long list, both for Gertrude and for Shaniqua.

This is why I embrace classifications. In fact, I’d go even further. As a reader, I follow voice more than genre. I love Darynda Jones and Jennifer Rardin, and can comfortably settle down with one of Mary Buckham’s offerings. I very much enjoy the less sassy and more suspenseful offerings of Kim Harrison or Keri Arthur, too. In a book Venn diagram, Divide and Conquer falls between Darynda Jones for voice and Kim Harrison for suspense and Amanda Bonilla for content.

How would you categorize your favorite genres? Are you led more by genre or by word of mouth?

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

The Difference Between Urban Fantasy And Paranormal Romance

Happily Ever After – the three words that separate Urban Fantasy from Paranormal Romance. The three words that define what a romance novel is, period.

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I don’t get it. I’m sorry, I don’t.

In addition to a Central Love Story, the Romance Writers of America stipulate that a true romance also needs:

An Emotionally Satisfying and Optimistic Ending: In a romance, the lovers who risk and struggle for each other and their relationship are rewarded with emotional justice and unconditional love.

Driving a book romance to an emotionally satisfying ending is something I strive for fervently. Yet my emotionally satisfying ending often doesn’t mesh with other people’s ideas. If the lead character in a book is not ready to commit to a relationship she knows will stifle her, and instead leaves town with the cool guy who charms the pants off her, how is that not emotionally satisfying?

Give it a couple of years, and she might change her mind. Until then, the pants-charmer treats her well, looks out for her, and makes her laugh. I find this uplifting and highly satisfying.

Romance plays an integral part in one of my books, yet I was assured it was not romance.

So why did two of my beta readers feel that way? Because “emotionally satisfying” means “happily ever after,” and my book did not represent that.

Initially I thought “HEA” was a flippant hyperbole. Alas, I was wrong. It was a concept that is to be interpreted literally.

Do readers prefer heroines to walk off with commitment-philes who want nothing more than to keep them safe? Perhaps. Because it sure seems to me that the “happy for now” concept simply isn’t enough. When the curtain falls, our couples need to walk off to their world of daffodils and moon beams.

Which begs the question. Is simply disagreeing with who is best suited for the heroine a strong enough reason to deny it the genre category “romance”?

Oh, and what is this obsession with a fairytale HEA anyway?

Psychologists have warned for years about the HEA and Prince Charming fallacies, insisting they set you and your relationships up for failure. Makes sense. Who can compete with the perfect man? Certainly no real man. Not the ones I know, in any event. In fact, if real men were perfect, they’d be quite dull.

I want conflict, in life and in fiction. I need conflict. The idea that conflicts between two people end with a final kiss frightens me. If the last few pages of a book don’t at least hint at more conflict to come, I no longer believe. Wasn’t this the argument made in The Matrix? To quote Agent Smith:

“Did you know that the first Matrix was designed to be a perfect human world? Where none suffered, where everyone would be happy. It was a disaster. No one would accept the program. […]I believe that, as a species, human beings define their reality through suffering and misery. The perfect world was a dream that your primitive cerebrum kept trying to wake up from.”

Back in the non-Hollywood world, the end of conflict would spell the end of the relationship. Making a HEA a paradox. The very thing that brings about the HEA destroys the HEA.

My dominant genre is Urban Fantasy. However, I have dabbled in Paranormal Romance before and am straying close to it again. When the book is done and read, who really cares what genre it was? But that’s not even the point. The question is, is HEA a viable genre-defining concept in the 21st century? Do you even agree that the RWA’s guidelines demand a HEA, or have they been misinterpreted? Please post your comments using the “Comments” link above. I really want to hear from you.

TOO MUCH URBAN FANTASY? TOO MUCH PARANORMAL ROMANCE?

Is Urban Fantasy turning you into an outcast?

Urban Fantasy under attack
Urban Fantasy under attack

Reading one old article from 2010 written by Damien Walter, writer and columnist for the Guardian, you might be forgiven for thinking so. Because in it, Urban Fantasy readers get quite the beat-down.

Walter writes, “I can believe that before television[…], many more people had a need for cheap books in copious supply that did no more than entertain. But there are now so many competing ways for people to invest their leisure time that the mass market paperback or even the e-book are surely struggling for market share?”

One commenter informed us with authority that Urban Fantasy is read only by emos and teenage girls. Another commenter said about UF readers, “It is quite hard to describe what they are like without being pointlessly mean since I too tend to drift in what I’m reading, and find such specialization unfathomable.”

I bet Walter’s quip about the e-book is one he regrets now, four years later. But let me ask this. What if I expect nothing more from books than to be entertained? Reading is something I do when I’m not watching TV, and I have no further ambitions than to be transported to a universe that is not filled with my kind of problems or world problems. In fact, I don’t need books to make me think. My mind is always on the go, figuring out how CSS works when my HTML knowledge is obsolete, or how to define “depth of field” and “depth of focus” eloquently and simply so that even people who are not versed in optics may understand the difference, or how to use my newest SEO plugin to best effect. Hell, now and again I need a time-out.

Let’s not forget most of UF comes serialized, and you’re not going to abandon the series halfway through, are you? And what about the authors? Authors tend to write in the same genre, and once I’ve come to enjoy an author’s voice, I’ll be back for more.

Which brings me neatly to the thing that puzzles me most. Why single out Urban Fantasy? What about those who only read crime or only historical romance?

I used to read four to five books a week, of which at least three were Urban Fantasy or Paranormal Romance. The “spare one” was usually a work of literary fiction and/or crime or sci-fi. If anything, there wasn’t enough Urban Fantasy around to keep me going.

Because I like what I like. Incidentally, I also like watching shows that might be classified as belonging to only three or four genres. I like Indian takeout more than Chinese. For books, it’s the same.

How about you? Do you flit from one to the other, or do you, too, have your fall-back genre?

My literary consumption has gone down because I got busier, but for those spare moments when I do whip out a book, I want it to be exciting, wonderful, alien and fun. Give me Mary Buckham, Darynda Jones or Kim Harrison, and I’ll be able to finally have some Me time.

Please don’t spoil it for me.