I am writing this on the train, back to Baltimore, where I will teach my Goucher class – then return to New York so I can do the CBS appearance that was postponed for a day. And then home again to Baltimore. But, today, I’m a teacher. And I’m a teacher who does not allow my students to discuss the commercial potential of anyone’s work. This is true not only in my Goucher class, but also in the week-long course I’ve taught at Eckerd College’s Writers in Paradise. I tell my students that, at the last meeting, I will tell them everything I know about finding an agent and getting published, but the rest of the class is about what’s on the page. Last week, at Goucher, a student began: “Stories like this are really popular right now,” and I said, perhaps a little too sharply: “We don’t speak of those things here.”
Does that make me a hypocrite, popular/genre writer that I am? I think I’m just drawing a line between teaching writing and teaching publishing. With most of my students, thoughts of publication are premature, if only because they haven’t finished their books yet.
In New York, I was asked if there were any HarperCollins books I wanted. I immediately asked for The Post-Birthday World by Lionel Shriver. Publicist Jane Biern, whom I’ve known since my reporter days (she arranged interviews with Doris Lessing and Oscar Hijuelos, among others) asked if I had been inspired by Michiko Kakutani’s glowing review. The review reminded me that the book was out, I said, but I would have wanted to read whatever Shriver wrote next. I am a huge fan of Shriver, whose work I discovered with WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. I think, in my heart of hearts, I sort of want to be Shriver, but that’s not in the cards. For one thing, she appears to be very, very thin.
Seriously, a day will come when my students, some of them, will make decisions about where they want to go with their writing careers. Will they plunge down the “popular” path, only to learn that it can make then distinctly unpopular with certain readers? Will they have the fortitude that Shriver had to have when KEVIN was rejected thirty times? What if the story doesn’t end as Shriver’s did, with a big award and international recognition?
Last night, at the Black Orchid, a familiar-looking young man stopped by. Of course, my bad memory needed a nudge — Johns Hopkins, 1997 — but then I knew him. He was one of my journalism students and he’s now a sports editor at the New York Times. Probably in spite of, not because of, what he learned from me. Still, I couldn’t be prouder.
(Oh, one small brag — WHAT THE DEAD KNOW reached #5 on BN.com yesterday, thanks to an e-mail assist from Barnes & Noble, which touted the book. I don’t actually know what this means, but it seems pretty good.)
Time to teach.
B&N is offering a coupon for something additional off of the book. I received a coupon for (I think) a total of 46% off with my membership and their discounts and the coupon. Looking forward to reading it (after I get to NO GOOD DEEDS, which is sitting on the shelf behind me…)
You’re on the right track here, Laura (heh). Because, when you think about it, who the heck knows what will actually sell? Just write as well as you can and the sales will come. Or they won’t. But at least you’ll know you’ve written as well as you can.
And congratulations!
I don’t know if it’s true or not but I recently read that whether it be novels or term papers , what people choose to write about is really an expression of who they are, and the issues they are working out in their lives. I don’t know if that is true — but even if a fraction of it is … I think that as a teacher you are definitely doing the write thing
It also makes me wonder what the heck is going on with some people when I go to the bookstore
Congrats, Laura on the B&N numbers!
Say ‘hi’ to Goucher for me. I’m glad you make the writing the focus, vs. the marketing of it. When I was there with Madison, there was a pre-law student who was a fab. writer, but wasn’t thinking seriously about writing professionally. Cynical me thought, “Go to law school, practice a while – it’ll give you a better platform from which to publish than if you just write.”
I applaud you for encouraging them to “just write.” That should be the first focus and if they’re really good, the writing will become the platform.
Sometimes good writing turns commerical. I think Lisa See’s wonderful book Snow Flower ad the Secret Fan is a good example. Lisa became intersted in the subject of the book while she was in China doing other research. It deals with women bonding, foot binding and secret comunication between women in China. While she was writing it, she thought it was an obscure, offputting topic and thought that it might sell five thousand copies or so and she would be happy with that. The book shich is wonderfully written has touched on some something that resonated with many readers. It was on the LA Times list for two years, or so. It’s also been translated into many other languages and has sold well around the world.
Lisa is also an author who knows the comercial side well, for many years, before she started writing mysteries, she was the west coast reporter for Publishers Weekly.
There are more examples of good writing selling well as well as being recieved well critically. See’s book is sone that comes to mind. I’ve also, recently, enjoyed Jane Smiley’s Ten Days in the Hills. It’s one of those books that I’m still mulling around.
I think Laura’s on the right track with her teaching.
Can’t wait to hear what you think of the Shriver, which took me 4 days to read because I wanted to savor every word, every meaning, every metaphor. There aren’t many writers who can make me feel so wholly changed during and after I read their work.
Funny that Don mentioned Lisa See’s book because a few years ago she discussed the research for this book when she and Laura were on the same program at a FOLUSA (Friends of Libraries USA) tea when Laura was promoting To the Power of Three. I don’t remember what Laura spoke about except for closing with a poem about a red dress. I thought that poem had been posted on this blog later that summer, but it didn’t jump out at me just now in a quick look through the archives.
Bravo for the commercial-free zone. I tell my students, “think about the people you know who you would like to please with your work.” Worry about strangers later, and money much later. So many artists (recently dancers, see Joan Accocela) say the big thing they had to have was the ability to deal with disappointment. Writers can fight that by writing for real people, then imagined people, and only THEN vast paying crowds.
Can’t wait to read WHAT THE DEAD KNOW. I hope to hit one of the signings and go to Pittsburgh for Easter, reading it and carrying one to my baby sister (and Lippman fan) Jeannie
Yes, that is it. If a teacher or fellow student or the neighbor next door is listening only for the commercial appeal or lack of appeal of your efforts, the writing gets lost and you can’t trust what you hear. I like those situations where you have writing practice with others and you listen to what is written without comment. A writer knows when they have hit paydirt and the money part of it, while nice (I am not naive) has its place; don’t we all just want to be sure we have been heard?
I’ll bet you’re a fabulous teacher, Laura. Not least because you’re actually teaching the craft, not the profession of writing.