Writing The Great (Not So) American Novel

There comes a time (whether finished or not) when an author is asked, "So, what's your novel about?" It's an exciting question, but for most writers, a dreaded one.

Depending on the day, most authors might answer with a short synopsis the best they can, responding with a sanguine pitch, or if not, they grumble, "You'll just have to read it to find out!" I choose not to grumble; after all, it's a luxury to be asked, even if only out of social etiquette. However, in my case, with my latest story, it's not so easy.

Syrahawk first started life as an indie-style murder mystery, a completely different genre from what it ended up becoming. After a while it mutated into an immigrant story based on Central American immigrants emigrating to the United States. But this didn't sit well with me: The idea of writing The Great American Novel (a coming to America story) . To write about factual countries (such as Honduras and the U.S.) that have exacting details and define particular experiences (ones I have never experienced myself), it just didn't make sense to me. Instead, I decided the story was more about alienation, being ostracized, isolation, outcasts, personal suffering... And the costs and sacrifices involved in a loving relationship that has falling under intense scrutiny and pressure. Those things I could identify with. Those things I have experienced.

So the novel was not about Central America or North America. It became a story about fictional landscapes and fictional borders. Like Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the main city was a fictional amalgam, but unlike his story, One Hundred Years of Solitude, which is set in South America, mine was not in any of the Americas. It was in a universal time, a universal place (like Fahrenheit 451 or A Brave New World). I was writing what I hoped to be The Great (not so) American Novel. And this is where the question, "So, what's your novel about?" becomes a little tougher to answer. The best response I have is: "Well, it's about a couple who emigrate to a new country without documentation and find themselves trapped in an unfriendly city... It's a love story of sorts, with satirical elements and a dystopian atmosphere. It's a not so American novel, and I'm glad I wrote it."

To Publish Big, Small, or Go The Way of The Red Headed Stepchild

Like all authors of speculative fiction (not commissioned) there comes a time when you have to make the decision to publish with a large house, small house, or choose that red-headed stepchild of a house: Your own house. I'm talking about Self publishing of course. But this is all dependent on how seriously the author takes her or him self. And to self publish does not mean "not serious." On the contrary, self publishing can be a very big step toward self respect; because taking control of your work and being responsible for the fate of your personal vision is a true sign that you are indeed a careerist, and not just a fluke, like a one-time marathoner (author guilty as charged).

This is precisely the dilemma I find myself in, and the more trade mags and industry websites about publishing with big houses I read, the more I feel a smaller house is for me. But than after I read about all the benefits of the DIY ethic in self publishing, I start to think maybe that's the way to go. Don't get me wrong, it's always a morale booster to have an industry insider, such as an editor or agent, to want your book for their company or associates. That would be just fine. But is it the best option for my current book?

Well, lets see what I want first:

1) Freedom of vision, my vision. This does not mean I would not rethink the story if I thought somebody had something critical to point out. I just want freedom to voice my story, not someone else's idea of what my story should be.

2) Freedom to design the cover art. It is essential to my needs as an author. I write with pictures and scenes acted out in my head. I am a visual writer. It is the only way I know how to write. The cover art is part of that vision. It is the ultimate calling card. (Yes, I believe in the reader's independent interpretation of the author's vision, but the author needs to start somewhere, and it better be strong).

3) Freedom to invest. Freedom to sell. Freedom of the outcome. I like the idea of shelling out the cost for 100 hard copies, than selling those books at your own pace, on your own time, on your own terms. I'm in no rush to be a blockbuster author. As long as I believe in my work, than selling well, or not selling at all becomes irrelevant to knowing that I did my best, and I can't beat myself up about that, no matter what.

4) I want my book to last. Firstly, I need integrity. The story I am writing is not meant for a specific era, not a moment in time, not a current bestseller on some news media list. The book I am writing is meant to be timeless, universal, parable-like-- quite possibly the stuff of folklore. This is where I believe self publishing might fail, and where a small time press might help. I've heard stories of authors who went with a small press, only for some years later, the aforementioned press to go under. But before it does, there's a larger press (or its international subsidiary) waiting in the wings, ready to pick up that jewel that never quite got the exposure it needed. When a book is around for many years, it is tested to some degree, and sometimes a larger company can see that the book in question has a platform, a following, and it is worth saving. In terms of self publishing, that book's nine lives might just come down to one if you don't have the support of a relevant publisher.

And it is now that I realize that self publishing fits the e-book reader model very well. I'm not a fan of e-books (the concept anyway), but I realize the future value of such a technology, and I feel that this element of publishing just might make my argument about books fizzling out irrelevant. In the e-book case, manuscripts truly don't burn, compliments to Mr. Bulgakov. Sorry Kafka, in this day and age, even if Max Brod followed through with your wishes, the internet would have made your wish nearly impossible. 

Well, I'm just thinking out loud-- if you can consider a blog loud. Anyway, I haven't made up my mind yet, but just by rereading this post, I can see I'm close to a decision. Hope this might help some of you other writers out there, or just confirm that you're not the only ones still confused about our current state of publishing options.