I think the question of artistic license versus concern for the audience should be an issue addressed early in a project’s life–addressed, settled, and maintained. How much freedom will you give yourself? Will you aim for following tried and true methods, or do all that you can to avoid them? Will your work strive to be something completely bold and new, or will it be easily categorizable?
Case in point, a couple of weeks ago I went to an experimental jazz concert. The musicians were extremely talented, no doubt about it, but I went away afterwards feeling like I had been at a funeral for someone I didn’t even like. What had they done to throw me off? For one, they started over an hour late, and I suspect that was done to allow their partners in the adjoining room to sell all of the curry and baked goods that they had brought. Then, when the show finally did start, it began with about five or six minutes of silence as black and white photographs of parking lots, bicycles, street lights, etc. were projected onto a screen for one to two minutes per picture. Following that was a very short set of what, in keeping with the funeral theme, could easily be described as a dirge. The band then took about a thirty minute break before the second set, which started with the photos again except this time they went on and on and on for at least half an hour, the band played for about two minutes, and then the show ended.
No doubt that band knew what they were doing and had purposely chosen to express themselves that way. I applaud them for that, but at the same time wish that they had considered those of us who paid good money to see them. Saying that, there were probably people there who enjoyed the show a lot more than I did–none of the people I went with, but I’m sure they were there.
For a writer, then, this issue of chosen style of expression is something that must be answered early because it will shape the entire project. It is far more difficult to change a story’s projection once it has been established than it is to change a piece of music’s. When you first sit down at the keyboard, or notepad, or typewriter, or whatever you use, think carefully about your project and the goals you have for it. For myself, I tend to err on the side of creativity as I’m not concerned with mainstream success. This is a personal choice, of course, as most of the mainstream books I read make me a bit nauseous. If your own goals differ markedly and you do seek a mass market, then I think following proven formulas is an excellent idea. But whatever you decide, be it pure creativity, pure mass market, or more likely somewhere in between, I advise you to make that decision early and to stick with it. And then go take some pictures of parking lots.













Working Titles
“You love your title. I love your title. Barnes & Noble don’t like your title. Trust me, we’re getting a new title.”
Those were the words of a blogging agent earlier this year while discussing the importance of titles and, more importantly, who is the most important link in the chain when publishing through traditional channels.
1984. Don’t like it. Dates are dead in the water. Escape From Big Brother – that’s more like it. Gives a sense of quest.
Ulysses. No, no, not having that. It’s set in Dublin; where are the Greeks? A Guinness Would be Grand. That’s what we’re calling it. We need to make those little leprechauns work for us here — think of the merchandising spin offs!
And, well, you get the picture. A title is many things in a few words. It’s the essence of the book. It’s the hook. It can, or in my opinion, should be poetic. It can be mysterious — a puzzle that adds a new layer which the reader ponders before, during and after reading. To clarify my opening quote, I’m sure that the blogging agent was probably talking about contemporary genre fiction when she made that comment. She’s also talking from experience about what generates the most sales and, more revealingly, she’s making a statement about who holds the real power.
To be brutally honest, if I had a hot new vampire YA novel to sell and was told that the title had to go, take it or leave it, the cheque’s on the table then I’m picking up the cheque no matter how much I love my title. Why? — because by writing in that genre it shows that my primary concern is the marketplace. Yes, I love writing. Yes I had fun doing it, and it’s well crafted and all that, but I’m a professional writer, and I’m here to make money. Swallow it, move on, spend the money. Whether deep down I’d question how what is essentially a creative decision had been wrested from my control and then altered based on statistics and data acquired from sales teams, is a moot point. Buy a new suit; have another gin and tonic in the Sky Lounge at The Hyatt you old rascal.
However, if your book is less generic, then the temptation to take the cheque becomes more problematic. A book that’s personal and that works in a few genres or perhaps none is going to be much harder to surrender to perceived forecasts of the bottom line. In a world where X-Factor and American Idol are cultural barometers, it can leave you hankering for a blast of Led Zeppelin rather than people reaching for the remote to vote, and a marketing driven title certainly has that feel.
For first time authors, jacket design is also outside of their control. Sometimes they’ll give two or three choices and, if you can all agree, you’ll get something that you like. Other times it’s a ‘nice’ surprise: “You’ve sold a book you ungrateful bastard: what’s wrong with that pink puppy on the cover, anyway?” The only solution to this, within the confines of mainstream publishing, seems to be to sell millions of books thus enabling you to walk into the publishers wearing a codpiece and cape and flanked by an army of minions. Without removing your shades, you can mumble that you’ve gone for the most versatile word in the English, F*ck, no asterisk, and the jacket will indeed have a pink puppy on it although not quite how they’d imagined.
As a final word, there’s no copyright on titles, so you’re free to run with Romeo and Julliet and good luck to you. However, big commercial projects, franchises, get around this by trademarking the whole cash cow. Choosing Harry Potter or Star Wars will, unfortunately, end up in a law suit that you can’t afford to fight. Trust me, you’re getting a new title.