When we went around to indie bookstores re a book they should be interested in, they just shook their heads at the price.

If there was any book they’d carry with that price it was going to be Clinton’s autobiography — and that was a stretch.

In the meantime, now it’s in trade, the box stores are carrying it, because the price has dropped into the range they accept.

Love, C.

They don’t apply at all to the works the editors actually want.

But to clear up something — this wasn’t a review, or, certainly, not intended as one. Rather a heads up to like-minded friends, to let them know I’d found something I liked and thought they’d like it as well. For me, Deep Genre is hopefully like the conversations we always want to have at conventions but so seldom get because we’re all usually running in different directions at the same time. And though Vaquero and I are constantly engaged in ongoing conversation about the subjects we share, and he is deeply sympathetic to these passions of mine for genre, he doesn’t share these interests. So Deep Genre fills a big hole in my heart.

Love, C.

Thanks for the lovely review, Constance. I like the fact that you didn’t spend all your time trying to summarize the book. That’s a bit rare from what I’ve seen in my recent crash-course in reviews.

I like the distinction people are drawing here between Big Fantasy, and Fat Fantasy. One is epic, the other is pudgy.

I’m also a big fan of tight writing. I know that sounds strange coming from someone who has written such a mammoth book, but I like to think that my book is pretty lean word-wise. It’s this leanness that helps my book read quickly and easily. I once had someone read the whole thing in a single day and come back to my house demanding the next piece of story….

In regard to the whole what publishers want thread, I can tell a story….

An early editor who loved the book made an offer on it years ago. She wanted to buy it, and when I asked her if the length was going to be an issue, she said. “Oh no.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“It’s a quick read,” she said easily. “Why, do you ask? How long is it?”

“210,000 words,” I said.

At first she wouldn’t believe it. Then she insisted that we’d have to cut it down to 165,000 so they could hit a price point for the books. She was a good editor and a cool person, but needless to say, I was horrified. When that publisher made an offer on the book (my first offer ever) we politely declined.

Later on when I talked with Betsy at DAW, I asked her if the length would be a problem.

“How long is it?” she asked.

“210,000 words,” I said. “And I’m having trouble with the ending right now, I need to add some things to bring it all to proper closure.”

Betsy just shrugged it off, explaining that her company once actually milled a special type of paper in order to print one of Tad William’s longer books.

We ended up signing on with Betsy at Daw, and she was true to her word. As a result this first novel of mine comes in at slightly over 250,000 words. I like to think they’re good words, and necessary for the most part.

Sorry for the long post. (Notice a trend?) I just wanted to chime in on the discussion and say hello.

Hello.

Also, I have to say as cool as this place seems, I probably won’t be able to hang around and participate as much as I’d like. My website just went live and I’ve promised people that I’d start blogging there regularly, so people can come somewhere central to ask questions and read my rambly thoughts.

Nice to meet y’all, however briefly.

pat

Yes, some readers prefer shorter books, but there’s still a lot of love for more complex stories - see George RR etc. And yes, paper is an issue, but a dollar more will usually fix that. Reliable sources tell me that the chain bookstores are actually exerting the pressure for shorter novels, not because of reader preference, but because of shelf space consideration. They prefer ten shorter novels for 7.99 each (or 15.99 each) to seven BFs at the same price. The “current preference” I’ve been hearing runs to the 120K length, not so short as 80K. I don’t think anyone would call 120K Big with a capital ‘B’.

I DO think that people have less patience for excess verbiage nowadays. If you’re going to write a big book, it should be a big story. Write tight.

Carol

My own novels are about 100K, and run 400 or so pages. Page count depends on typesetting, which is why publishers talk about word count instead. 80-120K is “normal” range; shorter than 80K is rare in adult fantasy (more common in romance, I think, and YA; maybe mystery, too), while longer than 120K means the books start looking like your Robert Jordans, Terry Goodkinds, and George R. R. Martins. I don’t know the actual wordcounts for them, but I think they go above 200K.

In any case, the novel would NOT have been better if this novel had been longer. It was as long as it should have been, and I’d conceived of it that way from the beginning.

However, if part of your confusion is caused by the title of this topic, the title is Big Fantasy, not BFF — which to me are two different things. Big Fantasy means large in scope. Big Fat Fantasy to me just means, well, large. Overstuffed. Literally too big for its britches. Desperately needs drastic cutting down, but didn’t get it.

I love Big Fantasy, actually.

My own little novels were not Big Fantasy.

I really like standalones too.

Love, C.