It’s time for a new interview series… like NOW. No really, actually it’s called NOW (Newly Omniscient Authors). This blog has been publishing since 2011, and some of the earlier posts feel too hopeful dated. To honor the relaunch of the site, I thought I’d invite some of my past guests to read and ruminate on their answers to questions from oh-so-long-ago to see what’s changed between then and now.
Today’s guest for the NOW is L.S. Stratton, author of Not So Perfect Strangers, which releases on March 28
Has how you think (and talk) about writing and publishing changed, further into your career?
I’m definitely warier of any hard-and-fast rules when it comes to writing and publishing. I’ll give a couple of examples.
“Don’t open a novel with the weather or with someone waking up.” This was drilled into me by books and blogs on writing—until I saw several bestselling novels do that very thing.
“Self-publishing isn’t real publishing.” I had my first short story published when I was in college, which was about two decades ago. This was back when self-publishing was treated like it was subpar or not “real” publishing and authors were discouraged from doing it if they wanted to be taken seriously. Now we know that was hilariously off base. Those who were smart enough to ignore the naysayers and get into the market early were able to build platforms, huge careers, and even have an impact on trends in traditional publishing. (Fifty Shades of Grey and The Martian, anyone?)
Let’s talk about the balance between the creative versus the business side of the industry. Do you think of yourself as an artiste or are you analyzing every aspect of your story for marketability? Has that changed from your early perspective?
I have too much imposter syndrome to think of myself as an "artiste", but I try my best to take creative risks in my writing. Some authors have their formulas: plot points or characters that tend to reappear in some incarnation in their novels. I’ve done it too. When I used to write romances under another pen name, I would hit a certain number of love scenes per book. I think embracing those formulas is the business side to writing. You do it either because it worked before and/or it fulfills readers’ expectations of your work. But even though you can say with relative confidence that you’ve mastered how to make a good spaghetti or pancake, eventually you’re going to get bored with cranking out spaghetti or pancakes. You want to try something different, to challenge yourself. That’s the creative side of me. I have to give in to it occasionally, or I’d get bored with writing.
The bloom is off the rose… what’s faded for you, this far out from debut?
Reviews. (And this is coming from someone who has written reviews and gotten a starred review before.) I understand that they’re necessary. They can help build buzz for books in some instances. But I used to see them as critical feedback I should definitely listen to. I’d try to take them very seriously, but they could be so subjective and all over the map; the same book would get a review saying the pace was too slow, and another reviewer would describe it as fast-paced. I eventually understood that this was more for fellow readers than for the authors.
You release your book into the world, and what people do with or take from it after that point, is out of your control. I’m not saying to disregard feedback or critique. That would be foolish. I value my editors’ notes and my beta readers. But beyond that, I’ve learned not to take reviews too seriously or at least try not to take them too seriously.
Likewise, is there anything you’ve grown to love (or at least accept) that you never thought you would?
I’ve learned to accept or be at peace with my writing career and realized that sometimes, treading water rather than making big waves isn’t so bad. I never got the splashy debut and envied the writers who got that opportunity. But I have seen authors who got splashy debuts, that got the big burst on the book scene, and they kind of . . . disappeared. I don’t know why. Maybe sales with their second book didn’t match the sales of their debut so their publishers elected not to exercise their first-option clause, or they knew as writers they were “here for a good time, but not for a long time,” as they say.
That’s why I tell debut authors that even though a huge emphasis is put on the monster-sized advance or being a bestseller or landing the big book clubs, it doesn’t mean your career is over if you don’t get that. And I’ve seen authors who were midlist for years gradually move up to bestsellers after building their readership with consistent, quality work and finally landing the right publisher that was willing to give them the marketing and PR budget to help them excel. Being an author is challenging enough; don’t put additional pressure on yourself.
And lastly, what did getting published mean for you and how was it changed (or not changed!) your life?
When I first got published, I’ll be honest . . . I took the whole experience for granted. I was 19 and a short story I wrote in two weeks and submitted to a writing contest on a whim, landed me my first book contract and put my work on store shelves nationally. I then took a break from writing to finish my degree and start working in journalism and I assumed it would be just as easy to get back into fiction writing and get another work published. Wrong! So wrong! I got rejected so many times, I can’t even count. The feedback was brutal. But that humbling experience made me appreciate it even more when I finally got another book published. I have respect for the writing process and my job as an author that I didn’t have two decades ago. This isn't a hobby that I can just pick up and put down; it’s a craft I’ve decided to dedicate my life toward.
L.S. Stratton is a NAACP Image Award-nominated author and former crime newspaper reporter who has written more than a dozen books under different pen names in just about every genre from thrillers to romance to historical fiction. She currently lives in Maryland with her husband, their daughter, and their tuxedo cat.