An Anniversary Prompts Reflections

by Art Taylor

When KM Rockwood offered me the chance to contribute a guest post today to Writers Who Kill, I jumped on the opportunity—for reasons she herself might not have recognized.

Winner of the Agatha Award
for Best First Novel 2015

This week marks the one-year anniversary of my first book publication; On the Road with Del & Louise officially debuted on September 15, 2015. And in an even closer tie to the website here, we’re also just a little over a year from my first official interview about that book…which appeared on this same blog, a chat hosted by E.B. Davis. You can read it here.

In the year since those milestones… well, what an unexpected road that year has been both for my book and for me. This past spring, On the Road won the Agatha for Best First Novel at Malice Domestic. It’s currently in contention for the Anthony and Macavity Awards in the same category (both to be decided/announced at Bouchercon later this week). And next month, the first section of the book (it’s a novel in stories) will appear in this year’s Best American Mystery Stories anthology, edited by Elizabeth George and Otto Penzler.

Each of these honors has been a great surprise (I was on the road myself when I got the email about the BAMS selection, had stopped briefly for lunch, and I had to read it several times before I could believe it; in fact, I’m still waiting to see the final book before I’ll be fully convinced). I’m thrilled and humbled even to be listed among the other writers also nominated for these awards and included in that anthology.

From the vantage point of this anniversary week, it’s clearly been a wonderful year.

But it’s also been a year of learning—and so, as with any anniversary, a few reflections.

CONVENTIONAL WISDOM IS—AND ISN’T—WISEST

Way back when I was first considered building my first novel around Del and Louise’s adventures, my

Art Taylor and Barb Goffmann
with their Agatha Awards
at Malice Domestic 2015

writing group—a sharp bunch of writers, I should stress—wasn’t fully keen on the idea. Frankly, Del and Louise are criminals, and part of their concern was that readers generally want someone good that they can root for. And then from another direction came questions about the novel-in-stories structure—more common perhaps in literary circles, but would it find traction in our own chosen genre?

In retrospect, those concerns were valid.

Often—too often maybe—I hear from readers and reviewers, in person, in emails, and online, that they hadn’t wanted to like these characters or that they didn’t approve of them, etc., but that they eventually found themselves rooting for them anyway—a despite layered so regularly in those comments.

Likewise, the structure has proven problematic for some readers. Several reader reviews have begun with a disclaimer about the reviewer not really liking short stories (which made me want to point out that it’s not really a collection of stories but a novel), while at the other end of the spectrum, one reader did treat it as a novel (yay!) only to add that the chapters seem longer than she’d really like… at which point I’m at the other end of the spectrum myself: They’re not really chapters, they’re….

Well, you see how this hybrid form has been a little vexing for some readers—and then, in turn, for me.

And yet, I circle around to the kind attention that the book has received overall, which would lead me at least tentatively to champion the idea of following your own path rather than bowing to conventional wisdom…but which maybe more accurately brings me to my second reflection.

MYSTERY READERS ARE LIKE FAMILY

Here on the eve of Bouchercon and thinking back on the most recent Malice Domestic, I’m reminded of the great generosity and enthusiasm of my fellow writers and readers in the mystery community—a community that, as my friend Judy Bobalik and others have pointed out, functions much like a family.

On the Road is indeed, for the reasons above and others, an odd little book, I recognize that. But despite its admitted oddness, it’s always been welcomed at the dinner table (to keep the family theme going) and included in conversations and given a warm hug now and then….

I’ve mentioned elsewhere a comment that Lee Smith made about Southern writers—that while other writers might sometimes be fighting for a place at the publishing table, Southern writers are always saying there’s more room here, pull up a chair. The same is inevitably true of mystery writers generally. We celebrate one another’s publications and successes and—importantly—diversity: diversity of genre, of style, of approach, etc. Whether or not that other writer’s book is necessarily the kind of book we most enjoy—wherever it falls along that spectrum from cozy to noir, for example—there’s a spot at the table and a clear invitation to pull up a chair.

We’re all in this together as writers, and as readers (and we’re all readers first and foremost) we’re all united by our love of mystery fiction. That’s what family should be all about.

And related to that, a final point:

MARKETING CAN BE EASY*

Going back to conventional wisdom, I think all writers know that getting the book written is only half the battle these days—maybe less than half. Even getting it published is barely getting you where you need to be. Marketing your book—yourself—is the next step, and it’s hard work, and uncomfortable work too, I think.

But the asterisk on the heading above is an intentional one, because marketing can be easy…when you’re celebrating someone else’s work.

At the new author breakfast at last year’s Bouchercon, all of us who’d published our first books over the previous year had a couple of minutes to introduce our work to the audience—a time limit kept on a stopwatch, in fact. I felt the need to showcase my own novel, of course, but I divided my time in half so I could plug another book, a project that I was associated with as an editor but one that centered firmly on other writers’ stories: last year’s Bouchercon anthology Murder Under the Oaks.

The first minute I spoke I felt awkward and self-conscious—making a pitch for myself, striving for a sale or two—but when I transitioned to talking about the anthology, everything became smoother.

I could never say without self-consciousness that my own book is a great read, but I felt perfectly confident saying that the stories in that anthology were wonderful—not-to-be-missed.

I don’t ever like asking anyone to buy my book, but I felt over-the-moon enthusiastic about telling people to track down that other collection and show up for the reading and signing.

Art Taylor and other authors signing copies of
Murder Under the Oaks
at Bouchercon 2015

And flashing forward: I still can’t believe that On the Road has earned the attention it has, hardly believe it merits it, but I was ecstatic in unadulterated ways when Murder Under the Oaks was named an Anthony finalist for Best Anthology—because you know what? Those writers who contributed stories are top-notch, and they deserve it.

Marketing yourself sucks; celebrating other writers…that’s easy.

This final revelation may seem an ironic one, given how much me, me, me I see looking back over my draft here—but ending with this does give me a chance to thank Kathleen for doing exactly what I’m talking about here, providing space and opportunity to celebrate someone else.

It’s an opportunity that I appreciate her giving me and one that all of us should pay forward whenever we can.