Writers standing out from the crowd

B-25 Mitchell

We live in an age of wild abundance. Calories, cheap clothes, untruths, technology, and books. And with this vast array of material and cultural wealth, where do we start to direct our attention as readers? Then the worry is: if we write, how will anyone find us, and if they do, will they be bothered to read us over everyone else?

This is where the tension comes in. To be found, one has to be like the rest of the pack - identifiable by one's genre - yet to be selected, one must be different. Luckily, there's one attribute that can earmark one out, and that is quality. Don't worry, I'm not going to go off on a great philosophical motorbike ride about Quality, like Robert Persig and his Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I think he cornered that particular branch of metaphysical investigation, along with the great woo mystery and also sly digs at academe.

If your work has a recognisable genre cover with a typeface which doesn't look like it's a legacy from 80s desktop publishing, then that's a flying start. The title is important too. We've already had one, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Contrast this with thrillers. We have Enigma (Robert Harris) and Killing Floor (Lee Child); hard hitting no-nonsense titles. Then we have the personal relationship focussed ones, which often still pull no punches: The Break (Marian Keyes) and The Watershed (Erin Pizzey). All I want to say is that a little thought in a title helps.

Please note, I haven't followed my own advice. Billy's Trombone Adventure (under my pen name of Jan Hardwick), has, I freely admit it, a cringeworthy cover and title. I do intend to redeem myself and my work in the near future. Promise (when I can afford the time or money). I'll say more on this later. Financial outlay.

What to say of quality inside the covers? There's plenty, and plenty has been written about the pitfalls. I can highly recommend Mittlemark and Newman's How Not To Write A Novel for a masterclass in this endeavour. There are so many ways to go wrong. So, so many. My own downfall is a tendency to be too high-falutin' and dense. When I revise and edit, I work hard to strip the prose back. In writing, like in life, we're often totally blind to our biases, foibles and errors. That's why good feedback is necessary. If your book succeeds in navigating the asteroid fields of stupid mistakes, has no more than one typo, one subtle aberration of grammar and also doesn't have a gushing thank you, consider yourself in the club - assuming you don't have a title such as My Interesting Spanner. Ah, but there are so many levels. You're in the Basic of Basics Club. Economy or a Supa Sava writer.

Let's assume that the work looks like a book from the outside, is readable, engaging and has recognisable features within its pages. Let's be frank. THIS IS A MINIMUM REQUIREMENT. It is what regular publishing houses are able to knock out day to day. We've all been in the bargain basement retailers. In the UK we have The Works which sells games, art materials, stationery and, yes, books. Books which if they don't get sold will be pulped. Ton upon ton of them. It's the last chance saloon for these volumes that the public didn't love enough to shift the print run.

I can see you there looking glum faced. Stop! Don't throw your valued manuscript into the bin - don't compost years of work. Don't give up hope. The market might decide that your work is a steamy pile but history might have other plans. No, that's not really right. If you don't get enough quantity out there, then history has no material to play with. Save it the trouble - toss it with the peelings.

Only. You could still make it if you have a truly original idea - something so extraordinary, readers can't resist, or if you market it with enough aggression or dedication. What if you do both? Then that wedge of paper soaked with your tears of frustration might come to a worthy end after all. Read on. Read on.

I have a 1994 copy of Catch-22 with a preface written by the author, Joseph Heller. The book is a cliche for a logical contradiction. This is the meat and drink of logicians, yet the appetite for the idea and the sheer lunacy of the novel seemed to capture the general public's imagination. Let me be frank. I've read the novel once and found it hard going. I DNFed Heller's other work, Something Happened. His style is dense and sticky, his subject matter obtuse, his length, lengthy and his characterisations and events are totally implausible. Yet it has become a classic.

Heller in his introduction gives us a big, fat clue as to its success.

"So much attention to the work at publication was in large part the result of the industrious zeal and appreciation of my literary agent, Candida Donadio, and my editor, Robert Gottlieb..."

So there you go. It's relatively simple. Write a good and unusual book (my copy of Catch-22 comes in at 519 pages) and get a team of dedicated professionals to pull out all the stops to promote it at full tilt; no expenses spared in advertising and badger the literry luminari to vouch for the work).

Oh, and travel back in your time machine and do all this in 1961.

As I said. Easy.