Writing Cross-Genre Fiction and Battling the Book Marketing Comp Title
Author Michael Kaufman discusses both the pros and cons of writing cross-genre fiction and how to navigate the murky waters of marketing cross-genre books.
In the beginning, there were no genres in the world of fiction. Until one day, a clever bookstore owner said, “Why don’t we arrange the books by…”
Her partner said, “…by subjects?”
“No,” she said, “We already do that. I’m talking about our fiction.” As she spoke, she was staring at their science shelf and the spine of Charles Darwin’s Origin of the Species. “We could arrange them by different genuses?”
It was a short journey from there to the birth of genres.
Creative experiments by writers, ever-greater literacy, the creation of the paperback, and the explosion in the number of published books gave birth to publishers—or at least imprints—specializing in mysteries or literary fiction or science fiction or YA or romance, and so forth.
The publishing world said, “It is good,” and it was, until marketing departments decided much more could be squeezed from the stone.
Saying a book was a mystery, for example, was no longer sufficient. The sub-genre was born.
And with the rise of algorithm-driven, online sales, the deal was done. If we can’t pigeonhole a book, publishers seemed to say to authors, readers, and bookstore managers alike, it won’t exist. If an author can’t rhyme off several comps—that is the comparative titles you see on book jackets, online stores, and book pitches—they aren’t going to get far in this town.
Those last few words would be from a noir detective story. Not a British-style police procedural. Not a cozy. Not a psychological thriller. Not a … you get my drift, right?
That’s what has confronted me with my Jen Lu near-future mystery series with strong social themes set in the charged political environment of Washington, D.C. You’re starting to guess where this is heading, right? Although it’s set in 2034 and the climate crisis is exploding, it isn’t another grim dystopian novel. You know, one of those that might as well come packaged with a cyanide capsule glued onto the last page. There’s a strong sense of realistic hope, born out of the human capacity to change.
Moreover, it’s clearly a feminist, anti-racist, LGBTQ+ work—although it’s an entertaining story and certainly not a textbook. And it’s science fiction-y in that half of The Last Resort is narrated by Chandler, the bio-computer implanted into D.C. cop Jen Lu’s brain. But still, it’s more often found in the mystery section of bookstores.
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This series crosses a lot of genres.
But here’s the thing I know: Readers aren’t computer-driven algorithms. Readers are on the lookout for something new. The books we cherish most are not the 10th rewrite by the 10th different author of the same story. It’s the mint story. The first off the press. The one that sees both the world and the word in a slightly different way.
Here’s the other thing I know: The world is an awfully complex place. Our tendency to slice it up into neat parcels of experience has a hard time capturing either reality or our dreams. Crossing genres can be a way to do that. Why shouldn’t a mystery, for example, speak to the consuming issues of the day? Can’t it still be page-turning fun (if that is your goal) while dealing with serious questions?
And yet another thing I know: Cross-genre writing has the inbuilt ability to baffle and delight. Because it doesn’t fit neatly into a genre formula, the story can be like a dazzling reflection off water. Things you expect are there, but never quite the way you’ve seen it before.
You might notice a couple of provisos in the above paragraphs. Crossing genres can be … such books have the ability to. In other words, we’re talking about a possibility and not an iron-law of writing success.
Crossing genres for the sake of crossing genres is a recipe for gimmickry and, ultimately, a lousy book.
Here’s the thing my agent said to me when we first discussed my Jen Lu series. “You’re a good writer,” she said, “and can tell a good story. I can’t wait to read it.”
And that is the thought I share with my fellow writers who are fretting about how their book might fit into the computer-driven world of book sales. You might have to work twice as hard to get it just right. You might get rejections from editors who say they loved it, but when they pitched it to their marketing kingmakers, they were told it didn’t quite fit into their list.
But if you know how to write, if you can tell a good story, and if you don’t mind persevering, then go for it.
Michael Kaufman has worked for decades engaging men to support women’s rights and positively transform the lives of men. He is the co-founder of the White Ribbon Campaign, the largest effort in the world of men working to end violence against women. He volunteers as a senior fellow at Promundo (Washington, D.C.) and has worked in 50 countries with the United Nations, governments, NGOs, and educators. He advised the French government in 2019 as a member of its G7 Gender Equality Advisory Council. He is the author of numerous nonfiction and fiction works and was awarded the Canadian Jewish Book Award for Fiction. His most recent nonfiction book is The Time Has Come. He’s also written Why Men Must Join the Gender Equality Revolution (2019) and his first Jen Lu novel The Last Exit. His books and articles have been translated into 14 languages. Born in Cleveland, Ohio, having lived in Durham, North Carolina, and now living in Toronto, Canada, he is married and has a daughter and a son. For more information, please visit michaelkaufman.com.
