For nine years I served
as mentor in Seton Hill University’s MFA in Writing Popular Fiction program,
and I’ve mentored a number of writers one on one who’ve gone on to graduate
programs in creative writing. These mentees usually go into programs where
creative writing classes are taught by literary writers who have, at best, a
limited tolerance for genre writing or, at worst, who outright loath it. These
mentees become extremely frustrated, and they reach out to me for advice. “Why
can’t I make my professors happy?” And if they try to write the kind of
literary fiction their professors want, they ask, “Why can’t I write this
stuff?” A former mentee emailed me recently to ask these questions, and I
thought I’d share my response here, edited to remove any indication of my
mentee’s identity.
MY RESPONSE
I was lucky during my
college career. None of my professors at Wright State University ever said a negative
word about my writing genre fiction. Maybe it would've been different if I'd
been in an MFA program instead of an MA program. I've heard from dozens of
people over the years that professors who write literary fiction often view all
genre fiction as worthless, although they have a difficult time explaining why.
I think these professors just parrot what they were told when they were
students, the same way high school English teachers tell their students never
to use "you" in their writing, without ever knowing why. I'm sorry
you have to deal with that. Try not to let it get you down. Your thesis
advisor's view is a limited one. Ignore his views on genre fiction and learn
whatever you can from him. The only arbiter of what makes good fiction should
be you, since you're the one writing it.
In terms of how
literary fiction differs from genre fiction, I've thought a lot about that over
the years. I don't write literary fiction. Twenty years or so ago, I wrote a
handful of literary stories, but editors rejected them all, so I shelved them.
So take my thoughts with at least a grain of salt! My advice to anyone who
wants to write literary fiction is to leave out anything remotely resembling
genre elements. Just tell a story about real people doing real things in the
real world. Literary fiction focuses on character -- getting to know a
character, watching character be revealed, watching character be transformed in
some small but profound way. Despite this focus, literary fiction tends toward
emotional restraint and intellectual distance. It's a paradox. Literary fiction
deals with the emotional life of humans but does so at arm's length. I
sometimes wonder if that's because it's written by intellectuals who struggle
to understand their emotional sides. At times it almost seems as if they're naturalists
writing about animals they're trying to understand. A couple quotes I've heard
about literary fiction (I can't remember the sources): Literary fiction is
about ordinary things happening to extraordinary people. (I take this to mean
that the characters tend to be more intelligent and perceptive than normal;
small events can move them and transform them profoundly.) A second quote: If
you want to write a literary story, write a first-person, present-tense story
then cut off the beginning and ending. That's usually meant as a joke, but I
think there's some truth to it. Literary fiction eschews what its practitioners
see as anything approaching what they view as simplistic, childish, pop-culture
storytelling, and the basic linear narrative pattern – character with a goal
takes steps to meet the goal, encounters obstacles along the way, works to
overcome those obstacles, the obstacles get harder forcing the character to
work harder until a crisis point arises, then climax and falling action – is too
formulaic for them. I think a pattern for a literary story might be better
described as a spiral. At the center is the conflict/emotional core/theme of
the story. The main character circles around this core, drawing ever closer to
it bit by it, until the character is forced to confront it. The moment of
confrontation leads to an epiphany which changes the character in a profound
way. This change is often not depicted “on screen” and is left up to the reader
to ponder after the story is finished. Raymond Carver's "Cathedral"
is a good example of this spiral technique. If you haven't read it, Google it.
You can find it free online.
Now, something weird
about the Literary Story Spiral is that the same technique is often used in
horror fiction, except that what lies as the center of the spiral is the
Terrible Thing (whatever it may be). Shirley Jackson's "The Summer
People" is an excellent example of this. The epiphany happens for the
audience as much or more than it does for the characters, and horror stories
often end in a suspended moment, when the characters and readers are left in a
situation that isn't resolved on the page, which is only resolved – or at least
pondered over – by readers. So the Horror Story Spiral is almost the same as
the Literary Story Spiral. The big differences are what lies at the center of
each spiral, and the intellectual distance and restraint of literary fiction,
and the deliberate attempt to evoke emotion (fear). So my theory – which I
haven't tested out yet – is that horror writers should be able to write basic
literary fiction because they have a deep familiarity with a spiral pattern.
My former mentee had been revising the same story for a couple years,
trying to get it “right” for his/her professors. He/she asked if this was
typical.
Is it typical to spend
so much time working on a story? When you're using it as part of a longer
learning process it is, and I think that's what's happening here. Any story can
be reworked a zillion times, and eventually you reach a point where you're
making it different, but not necessarily better. And whose definition of better
do you use to judge it? Your thesis director? Mine? A friend's? In the end,
only your judgment matters.
Long ago, I used to be
in a writers' group, and I had a buddy from college who I exchanged stories
with. One day I wrote a weird, surreal story called "Mr. Punch" that
depended a lot on imagery and implication. It was the first time I'd written a
story like this, and it felt right – SO right – but I was worried people
wouldn't get it. I shared it with my group, and they liked it, but thought the
ending was too enigmatic. I tried changing it, rewrote it a couple times, then
I decided to say fuck it and trust my instincts. That story became my first
professional sale, appearing in an anthology called Young Blood, next to stories by King, Poe, and Campbell. After the
story was published, my college friend sent his feedback. The manuscript was
covered in red ink. I decided at that point to trust my own sense of what makes
a story effective, for good or ill. I still have moments of doubt, and I still
try new things that I'm not sure will work, and sometimes they don't. I also
still try to be open to learning new approaches to writing. But I do my
damnedest to stay focused on my . . . I guess you could call it an inner
artistic compass. I listen to other voices, but I don't let any of them speak louder
than mine. Does that make sense?
I once had a dream long
ago where I was standing in the middle of my high school gym. The bleachers
were filled with silent people, and even though they didn't speak, I heard
their voices in my mind. They said, "Trust your feelings." I grew
angry, didn't want to accept what they said, started stomping my feet in a
tantrum. As I did this, I began to grow larger and larger, but the silent
people remained calm and quiet, and merely repeated their message: "Trust
your feelings." The dream has stuck with me for decades, and I try to
remember it whenever I get confused. I pass it along to you now. Trust your
feelings. You have excellent artistic instincts. Just follow them.
ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS
The divide between literary
and genre fiction can be summed up thusly: literary fiction primarily focuses
on character, while genre fiction focuses primarily on plot. Yes, I know you
can think of a zillion exceptions. There are literary horror, fantasy, science
fiction, and mystery stories. I’m not sure there are literary romance stories,
since that genre depends heavily on a specific plot elements – it must be a
romance, there must be obstacles/conflicts during the course of the two main
characters falling in love, and there must be a happy ending – any literary
story that deals with a love story wouldn’t be considered a category romance.
The character/plot
divide is a false one, and writers of all stripes would be better served not to
worry about it and tell the best story they’re capable of, focusing on and
stressing whatever elements each particular story needs to be successful. I
believe many creative writing instructors would better serve their students if
they understood this. The best book that addresses this divide and why it’s
unnecessary – if not downright hurtful to producing good fiction – is Plot Vs Character by Jeff Gerke. Here’s
a link: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=plot+vs+character
Over the last few
decades, genre elements have become more accepted by writers and publishers of
literary fiction. Margaret Atwood’s The
Handmaid’s Tale is social science fiction, and Colson Whitehead’s The Underground Railroad is a parallel
world story, for example. There are many literary journals that accept fiction
with genre elements – and some that focus on genre – so if you’re a genre
writer and you’d like to explore writing for literary markets, they’re out
there. The Poets & Writers website has a database of literary journals and
what they’re looking for. You can find that database here: https://www.pw.org/literary_magazines
Go through it, read the
guidelines for each magazine, see which ones accept fiction with genre
elements, check out some sample issues (hopefully, they’ll have some online),
and then submit your work.
Keep in mind that
literary magazines are usually not high-paying markets, if they pay at all. In the
academic world – which literary journals are often affiliated with – the
compensation for articles/stories/essays/poems is that professors can use these
publications to help them get promotions, tenure, merit pay, etc. Also, being
published in the more highly regarded journals can help writers land an agent
or a book deal. So while many genre writers will firmly tell you never to write
anything unless you are paid with money, literary magazines don’t operate on
the same philosophy. This is different than “For the Luv” markets that pay “in
exposure” (and which rarely offer you any real exposure at all since hardly
anyone reads them). Being published in literary journals does come with
compensation, even if it’s not always immediate and financial. So yeah, you won’t
get rich writing for literary journals, but writers of genre short stories who
always insist on being paid – even if it’s only a token payment – aren’t getting
rich, either. So if you want to submit to literary markets, do it. If you don’t
want to, then why the hell did you read all the way to the end of this entry?
DEPARTMENT OF SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
TEETH OF THE SEA
My latest novel is a
monster thriller called Teeth of the Sea, just out from Severed Press in both
print and ebook editions. Nothing literary about this bad boy! It’s meant to be
an action-filled monsters-chomping-tasty-humans adventure.
They glide through dark
waters, sleek and silent as death itself. Ancient predators with only two
desires – to feed and reproduce. They’ve traveled to the resort island of Las
Dagas to do both, and the guests make tempting meals. The humans are on land,
though, out of reach. But the resort’s main feature is an intricate canal
system . . .
. . . and it’s starting
to rain.
CHOPPING BLOCK PARTY
My story "Cast-Offs" appears in this anthology. More a nightmarish horror story than something literary, but I think you'll dig it.
Welcome to Golden Elm Lane. It’s just like any other small-town street…or is it? Horrible things happen on Golden Elm Lane…vile, monstrous, evil things. Serial killers, ghosts, and monsters of all kinds hide behind the walls lining this cursed street. Each house tells a story…a horrifying story. And now, for the first time ever, fourteen masters of horror will give you a bloody tour of Golden Elm Lane and bring it to full, terrifying life. With an introduction by the legendary creator of Jason Voorhees and the Friday the 13th franchise, Victor Miller, you'll find it difficult to turn down an invitation to attend our…CHOPPING BLOCK PARTY. Featuring all new stories from: Ray Garton, Richard Chizmar, Adam Howe, Bryan Smith, Damien Angelica Walters, Gerard Houarner, John Everson, Hunter Shea, Jeffrey Thomas, Kristin Dearborn, Nate Southard, Paul Kane, Simon Wood, Tim Waggoner, and Brendan Deneen.
RED ROOM MAGAZINE
My short story “Are You
Crazy?” appears in the inaugural issue of Red Room, the Magazine of Extreme
Horror and Hardcore Dark Crime. This one’s blood, gore, and insanity. Not
literary.
THE WINTER BOX
My Bram Stoker
Award-winning novella The Winter Box has been released in a new edition from
Crossroad Press. Of the three works I’m promoting right now, I consider this
the closest to literary genre fiction.
It’s Todd and Heather’s
twenty-first anniversary. A blizzard rages outside their home, but it’s far
colder inside. Their marriage is falling apart, the love they once shared gone,
in its place only bitter resentment. As the night wears on, strange things start
to happen in their house—bad things. If they can work together, they might find
a way to survive until morning…but only if they don’t open the Winter Box.
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