Unconventionally Conventional

Are you a writer who wants to break free from the shackles of genre conventions? Do you want to be remembered as the one who shook up the literary world with your unabashedly unique storytelling? Well, hold your horses, because I’ve got some news for you: it’s not that simple.

As much as we love a good original story, there are some rules writers just can’t ignore. Genre fiction has certain expectations, and while adhering to a formula might seem limiting, there’s a reason those expectations exist. They work. In my previous post, I detailed why writers must be good readers. One of the most important reasons is so that we can understand the formulas that make genre fiction successful.

Fear not. Following a recipe doesn’t mean you can’t be original (insert your favorite writers-are-bakers metaphor here). In fact, some of the most memorable books in recent years have managed to be both unconventional and conventional at the same time. Let’s take a look at some examples (note, these feature affiliate links to Amazon in case you’re eager to make a purchase):

Fantasy: Naomi Novik’s “A Deadly Education

Sure, we’ve seen the magical school trope before. A lot. But Novik takes it to a whole new level by creating a world where the school itself is trying to kill its students. It’s a fresh take on a familiar concept. There are still fantasy bread-and-butter tropes like rival factions, a slow-burn romance, historical references, and political themes, but within the killer school bounds she truly delivers on the key elements readers expect from a fantasy novel: magic, world-building, and a strong protagonist. Novik’s choice of first-person point of view blends internal monologues and snarky commentary with the overarching plot structure which adds a sense of closeness for the reader.

Sci-fi: Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff’s “Illuminae

Told through a series of documents and transcripts, “Illuminae” is not your average sci-fi novel. The story’s presentation as a dossier of interviews, chat logs, pictures, diagrams, and other digital files allows for an immersive experience that makes readers feel like they’re part of the action by assuming the role of the investigator after an interstellar incident. Despite the complete lack of narrative, it still hits all the right notes: spaceships (many), explosions (lots), life-or-death decisions (every turn), a gripping plot, and plenty of action. By breaking the mold of traditional narrative structure, Kaufman and Kristoff keeps things fresh while still satisfying readers’ expectations.

Romance: Jesse Sutanto’s “Well, That Was Unexpected

Romance novels often follow a predictable formula: girl meets boy, they fall in love, they hit a bump in the road, but eventually they end up together. “Well, That Was Unexpected” manages to surprise with twists at every turn. Its rom-com staples include characters who are flawed and relatable, cringe-inducing YA awkwardness, and a storyline that’s both hilarious and heartwarming. But those staples are all set against a rich cultural immersion in Indonesia, both in place and family. It also features awesome side characters that are, at times, even more engrossing than the protagonists. Additionally, Sutanto’s use of multiple narrators, including one who isn’t involved in the central romance, adds depth and complexity to the story, making it far more than just a typical rom-com.

Thriller: Alex Michaelides’ “The Silent Patient

A good thriller needs to keep readers on the edge of their seat, and “The Silent Patient” does just that. But Michaelides also manages to subvert expectations by flipping the narrative on its head. Instead of following the detective trying to solve the case, we’re following the patient who’s at the center of it all. It’s a clever twist that keeps readers guessing until the very end. Michaelides’ use of a non-linear narrative structure, jumping between present-day events and flashbacks to the past, adds layers of intrigue to the story, further enhancing the thriller experience.

Let’s try an exercise. I made the above photo on the AI diffusion art site Midjourney. Based on that picture alone, I will, on the fly right now, come up with an unconventional approach to the story that is represented by the thriller/supernatural/fantasy/whatever that picture is. I’ll give myself two minutes to brainstorm. Grab a pen and paper (or type it out) and come up with a query blurb with me. Here goes:

Carter Bullford’s life was completely on track. High profile corporate law gig with a prime NYC office. Aston Martin. Private island off the Keys. Gorgeous Val and stunning Katy both after his attention. But most importantly of all, the sins of his past had been completely forgotten.

A legal malpractice suit brings that all to a halt. Piece by piece, everything that he built crashes down and his life comes to ruin. Then the storm comes. Black as night clouds belch red lightning. One by one, every person in Carter’s life disappears into the storm. The city grinds to a halt with scant few left to run it. Desperate for an end, Carter finds the storm won’t claim him. When he comes across Dalia, a former colleague he screwed when he left her firm, the tatters of his world are obliterated.

Turns out, he’s not in his world, he’s in ours. For reasons forgotten, Carter had stopped trying to find a way home. Now, home has found him, his sins have reemerged, and he’s in for the trial of his life. Conviction means going home. Exoneration means exile on Earth. He’s not sure which one’s worse.

Okay, pencils down. So, that could be a hot mess, but it could be really fun. At the very least, it sounds different. What (correctly submitted to) genre agent wouldn’t at least take a peek at the first few pages? Aimed toward the sci-fi alien politics crowd, it plays like a legal procedural. Or maybe it’s for the legal procedural fans who get an emotional tale of interplanetary intrigue amidst the court battle. Don’t expect me to flesh this one out into 100k words; it’s going to the bottom of my book ideas pile. But, hopefully you get the point.

The point is, genre conventions exist for a reason. They’re the building blocks of a successful story. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be original within those constraints. In fact, by taking a well-worn trope and giving it a unique spin, you just might create something truly memorable. So fully embrace the tried and true boundaries that your genre readers love and expect, then go ahead and break them – with a scalpel.

Why Writers Must Read

Writers must read? More often than not, the first piece of advice given to an aspiring author is they need to be good readers. On the surface, it seems like good advice, but the reasons why it is so important don’t always follow up the advice.

Hello 2023! Bit of a long pause to the blog with the holidays, couple bouts of bronchitis, ski vacation, sick fam, yada yada. But I’m back for more writing fun, and some news on two of my books (next post).

A book gives writers more than just a story.

But first, a thought on reading, as a writer. There are many facets to the sage wisdom, so let’s take a deeper dive into a few.

  1. Writers must read in their genre
    The reasons for this are pretty obvious. You need to know what’s popular. What has come before you. Where the market is saturated, and where there are opportunities to carve a niche. What’s hot (imagine anything fantasy school-related after Harry Potter, or vampires and werewolves after Twilight)? What’s overdone (those things a few years later)? If your goal is just to write a specific story, without any kind of publishing-related goals other than to just ‘put it out there’, then write the story your heart wants to write. If you aim to be a financially successful author, then you need read your genre’s tea leaves, and if not be an expert, be at least aware.
  2. Writers must read outside their genre
    Maybe a little less obvious here. Most fiction stories contain elements from multiple genres. Your historical romance might have a bit of mystery to it. Your swashbuckling space opera has a heist subplot. Your epic fantasy turns into a costumed police procedural. You need to appreciate the elements (tropes, structure, character types, etc.) that make stories in those genres successful, if you are to be successful in applying horror to your bake-sale comedy.
  3. Writers must read recent releases
    This is good advice, but especially applies to anyone hoping to be traditionally published. You need to know what agents (and publishing houses) are looking for, what’s selling, and where the market is headed. In addition to reading recent books, you have to follow up by absorbing any metadata you can find about them via sites like Publisher’s Marketplace.
  4. Writers must read debut authors
    Right next to #3 is this, and also important to those who want to find a literary agent. You need to understand (and incorporate) trends from modern publishing. Read a dozen debut novels and identify trends – how do the opening pages look? Lots of dialogue? Lots of action? How much backstory? How purple is the prose? Is the story told chronologically or out of order? If your 150k-word moose-on-skis spy thriller doesn’t conform to what publishers want right this moment from a debut author, you’re guaranteed to not get an agent’s attention.
  5. Writers must read classics
    This one, to me, is probably the least important, because we only have so much time in our day to dedicate to reading. I think an aspiring writer will get more mileage out of reading modern works simply because today’s publishers aren’t looking for Tolkien, they’re looking for VE Schwab. Read classics if it’s important to you. Do it so you’re versed in your genre’s history, but do it with the understanding that all the classics have serious flaws when looked at with a modern publisher’s lens.
  6. Writers must read for ideas
    This one is my favorite, and a great example of it struck me this week (and what kicked me in the butt to get back onto my blog). I am at present listening to the audiobook of a fantasy titled Unraveller. About a quarter of the way in, the protagonists are deep in a murky forest when one protagonist remarks (I’m paraphrasing) that she is natively able to discern the noises and nuances of the marsh far better than her companion and his ‘highland ears’. Immediately when I heard that, I thought “Wow, that is a great piece of worldbuilding.” In a single sentence, we’re educated on the protagonists’ regions of upbringing, differences in their observational abilities, and the makeup of their environment. Now, I am not advocating that you go out and copy another author’s hard work. But there is absolutely nothing wrong with saying your grizzled space pirate can isolate the mating calls of the Nimbus VII glow-monkeys ten clicks sooner than his alien co-pilot can.

So there you go, writers. Some great reasons to be a great reader. If anyone in your writing sphere (writing group, classes, critique partners, etc.) says they don’t think reading is important for writers, you have my emphatic endorsement to completely ignore anything they have to say.