List Inflation

You’ve heard of grade inflation. Well, now we have list inflation.

As of this week, the New York Times will split its paperback bestseller list into Mass Market Paperbacks and Trade Paperbacks. Their reasoning is that splitting the list will enable them to focus more attention on literary novels that are typically printed in trade paperback and that don’t usually have the velocity of sales necessary to put them on the standard bestseller list.

Yet there’s a boon here for genre paperback writers, too, since removing those rare but powerful literary novels that stay on the list for years, such as THE KITE RUNNER, will open up more slots for genre writers. Of course, many non-literary novels are also printed in trade paperback. Nicholas Sparks, for instance. Trade paperbacks have also become the form of choice for houses chasing the success of Philippa Gregory’s THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL. So I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot of books with period paintings of headless women in fancy dress on their covers making the new trade paperback list, despite their actual mediocre sales.

The New York Times did this once before. When publishers complained that HARRY POTTER was gobbling up almost half the spots on the list, the Times created a separate list for “children’s books.”

Does all this really matter? Well, yes. Recent studies have shown that while the sales of established writers such as John Grisham are unaffected by their appearance on the list, “hitting the Times” gives a huge push to new, lesser-known writers. Michael Korda actually wrote an entire book on “Making the List” (although I think he used the PW list, since it's been around longer). So making the Times is a Big Deal. Many writers even have clauses in their contracts that call for them to receive a bonus of from $2-20,000 for every week they’re on the NYT.

There are lots of other lists, of course. There’s the PW list, the USA Today list, the Ingrams list, the Amazon.com list, etc. There are even lists for regions or individual cities. This is why you’ll sometimes see a writer referred to simply as “bestselling” without the NYT added. I, for instance, can rightfully call myself a “bestselling” author because my romances regularly used to hit the Ingrams (distributers) list, even though I’ve never been near the NYT list. But despite all the grumbling that the methodology used by the Times is flawed and that the USA Today list is really more accurate, no other list has close to the clout of the Times.

The official List used to be the first fifteen slots. Recently, the Times has also been releasing what they call the extended list, which is slots 16-30. Just making the extended list is a big deal, although not as big a deal as making THE List. Traditionally, a writer needed to hit the real List to be dubbed a “New York Times Bestselling Author.” But lately some publishers have been cheating and bestowing that coveted title on writers who “only” hit the extended list (leading to predictable snide whispers).

For reasons I’m not real clear on (but which probably have much to do with sales and marketing), the Times has now decided to expand THE List from fifteen to twenty. Which means that every week, if you add all the lists together, an extra thirty-five authors will now be able to officially style themselves as a “New York Times Bestselling Author.”

Of course, my opinion of bestselling fiction has never recovered from an extensive study of the List I made several years ago. To the general public, “New York Times Bestselling Author” means “good author.” Once, that may have been (mostly) true. Today, however, it generally (but not always) means “commercial, selling-out-to-the-lowest-common-denominator author.” And no, this isn’t sour grapes. I recently saw a list NYT authors from a date in the 1950’s (Hemingway, Lawrence, Pasternak) compared to a list from the Nineties (Patterson, Cromwell, Steele). Things had definitely changed, even before the Times started proliferating and expanding their lists. As for now?

Am I the only person who thinks that what is inflated is diminished?

Finding a Repairman in Katrinaville

This is just venting, so you can go away if you want. After three weeks, I finally got a repair man to come look at my nearly-new LG washing machine. He replaced the computer (what idiot got the bright idea of putting a computer in a washing machine?), then announced the motor also needs to be replaced and he'll be back... in two weeks. Maybe.

I'm supposed to live FIVE weeks without a washing machine? I'm beginning to wish I'd simply thrown the #$%@ thing out and bought a new one (not an LG!) when it broke down for the third time. That's right, this is the third time in thirteen months the sucker has died. Of course, NOW it's no longer on warranty...

Thanks to Katrina, we have all new appliances. Unfortunately, it seems that after Katrina all the appliance manufacturers kicked their production into high gear and let quality control go out the window, which means that we now have a collection of new, expensive lemons.

I'd take my wash over to my mother's house, except her DRYER is broken...

Betes Noires

It’s a dirty little secret shared by almost every author I know. Even authors regularly hitting the NYT have one. They’re given different names—betes noires, doppelgangers, nemeses. What they are is the particular fellow writer who becomes the burr beneath our skin or the red flag waved in front of our inner bull. They are the lightening rod for all the injustices and neglect we suffer (or think we suffer) as authors. They are, to put it more bluntly, the focus of our all our petty jealousies.

To be most effective, an author’s bete noire needs to have first been published at the same time as our author. But while they might have started off at the same point, our author soon sees her bete noire pull ahead. She gets a bigger print run, a dream advertising campaign. Or maybe her books ride to popularity on a plethora of tasteless hot sex or blatant appeals to the resurgence of American militarism. For whatever reason, the bete noire soon outsells our author (in the case of a NYT-selling author, that can mean just hitting higher or staying longer on the list). And—here’s the clincher—the bete noire’s books are BAD. After all, if her success were deserved, then our author would applaud it. Instead, our author is left chagrined, confused, and outraged. Why are her awful books selling while my books—which are oh-so-much better—are not?

This may be just a female thing; I don’t know. But the tendency is so pervasive I suspect it must serve some purpose. I know I had a bete noire when I was writing romances. Since I’ve left the genre, her success (ill-deserved, of course!) has lost its power to sting (her career is also on a long, steady decline, but I’m not going to crow about that). Do I have a new bete noire? Yes. Am I going to tell you who it is?

No.

Back to Work

I put my sister on a flight back to San Francisco this afternoon, then immediately plunged into something like a panic when I realized I’ve only six weeks left to finish WHERE SERPENTS SLEEP. Normally I’d go up to the lake and let the peaceful seclusion work its magic, but I still don’t have a car! (Now they're saying mid-October.)

My mum had a great ninetieth birthday party, by the way (once I get organized I’ll post a photo). I certainly hope I inherited her genes. When I took her to the doctor yesterday she charged up two flights of stairs because she doesn’t like elevators.

Now, back to work!

The Book With a Thousand Names

My fourth Sebastian St. Cyr book--still not quite finished--has been a Book in Search of a Name from the beginning. It's been through so many working titles that I can't keep track of them all. Where Dragons Sleep, Where Demons Sleep, Where Virgins Sleep/Lie--the list goes on and on.

This week I received an email from my editor. She said, "We need to decide on a name for this book." I thought the choice was between Where Virgins Sleep or Lie, But it seems the book went into their catalogue as WHERE SERPENTS SLEEP (I don't even remember that one), no one ever changed it, and she's decided she has issues with Virgins. No one has complained about the Serpents title, so, it's now official: WHERE SERPENTS SLEEP.

At this point I'm like, Whatever. Just pick a name! Although actually, I find I do like it.

On other fronts, I'm having a bad week. My new LG washing machine has broken down for the third time. Steve's car is in the shop, Sam's car is being towed this afternoon, and my sister is in town for a visit and my mother's birthday party is this Saturday. So I probably won' be sticking my head up again until next week.