3 Suggestions for Solving the Problem of Discoverability

Ask any writer (with the possible exception of Stephen King or Jonathan Franzen) what the single biggest hurdle in their career is, and chances are you'll hear the same answer over and over again:

So many pretty distractions...

"Discoverability."

Discoverability is not a new word, though Blogger underlines it in red in a vain attempt to convince me otherwise.

A hundred years ago, Websters defined the word as "the quality of being discoverable." Duh. A hundred years before that, Scottish sociologist Thomas Carlyle used it in reference to the Buddhist belief that once every generation is born "a Greatest Man; that he is discoverable; that, once discovered, we ought to treat him with an obedience which knows no bounds. This is the truth of Grand Lamaism; the 'discoverability' is the only error here."

Today, the thorny problem of discoverability has less to do with locating the perfect human than with helping the perfect reader locate your book.

So many pretty distractions clamor for attention that one can hardly blame readers for buzzing like starving bees only around the pollen of titles penned by tried-and-true authors. It doesn't matter that others might create something they would enjoy as much as -- if not more so -- than the writers they know. They don't have unlimited time to waste searching for something to satisfy their literary cravings. So they will continue to read the authors they know... even long after those authors have ceased to surprise or inspire them.

Now, if someone they know, someone they trust, someone who is familiar with their tastes and preferences recommends a title, chances are they'll embrace the opportunity to add to their stable of "approved" authors. The problem isn't that readers are averse to reading an author they've never tried before; it's just that too many don't have the time, inclination, or sheer dogged determination to plow through the tens of thousands of titles looking for something that strikes their fancy.

Discoverability, it would seem, drops the problem of the infamous slush pile of unsolicited submissions at the reader's feet. "You have a computer? Here's access to every book on the planet!!!" ~maniacal laughter rings~

So the readers do what most people do when confronted with too many choices and too little direction: they sidestep the problem entirely and stick with same-old, same-old. (It is this trait, fer instance, that keeps me ordering the same thing every time I visit Starbucks.)

How to find the right one?

The plague of Discoverability is something publishing --  both traditional and indie -- has known about for years.

It's the reason non-fiction writers need a solid platform before they can sell a book project. ("Built-in audience and awareness! Score!")

It's the reason self-published titles need to have sold several thousand copies in a relatively short time span before a publisher will make an offer for acquisition. ("People already know about it! W00t!")

Trouble is, no one really knows how to combat it. Which is not to say that people aren't trying. Many writers -- and publishers, too, for that matter -- clog up their Twitter streams with 140-character tweets of desperation that implore people to give their books a chance. Facebook pages flog books and articles. And don't forget the book trailers on YouTube and elsewhere. One of the more ingenious, though misguided, attempts I've seen at making a book discoverable involved a 5 minute advertisement that ran before the featured film at our local theatre.

The Perseus Books' Group, in an effort to address the problem, is hosting a 36-hour Publishing Hackathon this weekend, hoping that getting a bunch of bright bulbs together to "develop new approaches to digital book discovery" will create the right marketing juju. This is a Big Deal. How big? The winners get $10,000 cash and the opportunity to pitch their idea to Ari Emanuel, Co-CEO of William Morris Endeavor.

That big.

I'm no marketing guru, but I have some thoughts on cracking the code of discoverability, in the (admittedly selfish) hopes that someone will employ one or more of them and introduce me to more writers whose works I fall in love with.

Idea I: Steal a Page from Hollywood

One of my favorite parts of going to the movies and renting videos is the previews. While growing up, one could always tell the caliber of movie playing in my hometown theatre by the number of previews before it. For some reason, the more previews, the better the film. Now, I'm not suggesting that we put book trailers up on the big screen (see my previous note of disdain re: the 5-minute self-pubbed ad), but I AM wondering what would happen if publishers would routinely include the opening chapter, say, of two or three soon-to-be-released-titles in each book.

I know; often I'll get a teaser chapter from the author's next book. But it's as if each author is a closed shop -- I rarely see the writing of other writers within those sacred covers.

Here's the thing: movie previews don't just showcase a single director, actor, or writer. They show what's up and coming that should appeal in some way to the feature film's core demographic. Previews exist to expose an already committed audience to new material. Publishers could learn from this.

Idea II: Revamp Publishing Pros' Websites for Reader-Friendliness

It never ceases to amaze me how off-putting many publishing pros' websites can be. Both big and small presses have sites that lean more toward hard-sell storefront than enticing entertainment.

If the first thing site visitors see about a title is its hardcover price, with no blurb regarding content, how does that encourage them to dip into the book?

Some sites waste valuable homepage real estate on things like outdated news in miniscule fonts. Others make you jump through hoops just to find out what titles are available. Most front load their sites with their bestsellers, but don't capitalize on the bestsellers to drive readers to new authors. And practically all cram so much content on the page that it's rendered a meaningless jumble of visual noise.

Most publisher's sites are guilty of the writer's deadly sin: telling instead of showing. They tell people about their books, but show little of each one. If you already know what you want to buy, a publisher's site is fairly easy to negotiate (but Amazon is usually cheaper).  If, however, you love one author and want to see what similar books the publisher has available, publishers could learn a lot from emulating Amazon's "Customers who bought _____ also bought _____" tactic.

Idea III: Take Safety in Numbers

I don't know why, in the world of publishing, every author is an island, trying to make it on his or her own. It would make so much sense for publishers to consider the advantages of fielding "teams" -- especially of debut and midlist authors.

We're stronger & last longer when we stick together!

In much the same way that a studio promotes a new film by sending multiple cast members, as well as the director, out as ambassadors, a publisher could send multiple authors within a genre out to promote not just one book, but several.

In the same way that film buffs go to more than one movie a year, or TV aficionados watch more than one show, readers are willing to shell out hard earned cash for more than one book. They just need to know what's out there. See, each author is not in competition with every other author. Rather, each author is competing against the sheer overwhelming odds of getting noticed.

Sending a debut author out to a booksigning is generally regarded as a boneheaded financial decision because said writer does not yet have the clout or the cache to draw big crowds: the very definition of lack of discoverability. But why not throw a genre-specific team of rookies together with someone launching their sophomore title and package it as an event? Live or online, such things make sense, bringing a cadre of new authors to the attention of readers hungry for more of a particular genre, helping to raise the visibility of several of the publisher's newbies, rather than casting them adrift into the vast sea of titles to see who can swim.

I'm not certain any of my ideas would solve all discoverability issues. But I do think they'd be a start.

What about you? What's your solution? Here's hoping that someone somewhere cracks the discoverability code... and soon.

"I Love Your Story Anyway!" -- Tales From the Unintended Audience

"I know I may not be the intended audience... and I love your story anyway!"

This tweet from accomplished improv musician Stan Stewart (@muz4now), a faithful reader of "Dear Alderone," got me thinking. Since September, I've been serializing "Dear Alderone" online. It's a middle-grade novel, which means that its target audience is tweens. It features two 14-year old female protagonists bonded by blood, separated by several decades,  connected by crisis.

I wrote a story I wanted to tell: a story that I would have liked reading when I was 14. But you know what? I'm not picky at all about who reads or -- perhaps more importantly -- who likes it.

The wonderful thing about words on a page (or screen) is that they are equal-opportunity communicators, readily conveying their information to anyone willing to decipher them.

Skippyjon stays!

I know what it's like to devour a book, getting caught up in the story, all the while cognizant of the fact that the author did not have me in mind while writing. I like Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl series, though I have nothing in common with an uber-rich, genius boy intent on world domination. And I flat-out love Judy Schachner's Skippyjon Jones books -- so much so that I  was crushed when my cat-crazy 10 year old daughter announced that I could give them away because she was "too old" for them.

"Noooooo!" I wanted to yell as the books came off of my daughter's bookshelf--

...to be instantly rehomed in mine. Skippyjon stays.

Here's a little-known writer's secret:
Anyone who loves what I write is my intended audience.

Here's another one:
Nothing makes a writer's day like hearing from someone who appreciates a good story.

If you are a rabid reader of an author's work, it doesn't matter whether or not you are in the publisher's target market. Want to really make a writer's day? Some simple ways to spread the love:

*  Tweet 'em up. Whether or not the writer is on Twitter, compose a tweet personally recommending your favorite read to your followers. For the cherry on top, add the #amreading hashtag. 

*  Blog About It. If you have a blog, dedicate a post to a book, series, or writer you like. Google loves that kind of stuff almost as much as authors do.

*  Keep the Comments Coming. If the writer has a blog, drop a short comment stating how much you enjoyed a particular book / story / article. It's not that we're pathetic or emotionally needy. (Ok: Some of us are.) It's just that most writers get more than enough negative feedback. For some reason, the people who *don't* like what we do have no problem telling us. I mean: name one other business that names the vast majority of its missives "rejections." You have no idea what a supportive comment praising one's work can do to boost the creative muse.

*  Read. Review. Repeat. Reviews -- especially good reviews -- are like reserves of gold in a wildly fluctuating economy. If you really want to keep your favorite writers producing more stuff for you to read (instead of, say, trading in their mad typing skills for a hairnet and practicing their delivery of the catch phrase "would you like fries with that?") write a well-thought out, reasoned review and post it in appropriate online, visible places. Amazon is one such place, to be sure, but don't neglect other online booksellers who cater to people who might not want to enrich the all-powerful 'Zon.

*  Share and Enjoy. Like a book? Talk it up. Then lend it to a friend, so that person can help you spread the word. In fact, you could start a kickass trend by purchasing a physical copy of your favorite paperback, inscribing something like "I liked this book so much I wanted to share it with the world. Read it. Enjoy it. Then, when you're done, leave it in a public place for someone else to discover!" and leaving it behind in a coffeeshop, or a bus stop, or a train station, or a doctor's office, or... You get the picture. 

So here's to all the dedicated readers out there. It doesn't matter whether or not you are in the segment of the population to whom a book is marketed. It's not about the marketing; it's about the reading!  

The Genre-Free Writer: Looking for the Common Thread

I've spent the last three days holed up in my writing studio, with strict instructions to all I know and love not to bother me unless the Horsemen of the Apocalypse are thundering down the street.

Much of my time I spent actually writing. However, some of my time I spent really looking at my career and my writing and deciding where I'm going to go from here. Some questions I considered were:

*  What elements connect all of my characters? 

*  What common threads run through all of my work?

*  What plots and themes most move me?

*  What one trait is vitally important to my characters?

The experience was an eye opener. One I highly recommend.

photo by mantasmagorical from MorgueFile.com

See, I've always known what I write didn't fit into an easily identified genre.

I write screenplays and poems, novels and short stories. I write science fiction, fantasy, women's fiction, children's stories, middle grade fiction, family fare, and darker, edgier stuff.  I happen to think some of the stuff I write is funny -- but realize that not everyone shares my rather warped sense of humor. It certainly wouldn't be classified as "comedy."

So I wracked my brain. Since all my writing comes from ME, I reasoned that there must be some common threads and recurring themes. And slowly -- painfully slowly -- they became clear.

I discovered several things about my writing. For instance:

*   I write quirky, unselfish characters with hidden strengths and highly individualized but uncompromising integrity.

*  I gravitate toward bittersweet stories, antiheroes, and tragic characters.

*  My characters are often trapped in situations from which they cannot safely escape, but which ultimately lead to glory.

*  Every major character of mine has almost pathological perseverance.

It literally took me hours to come up with these attributes. When I mentioned them to a writerly friend who is familiar with my work, she responded:

"It is so your writing down to a fine sharp point." 

And she's right. (Though maybe I could have saved a ton of time if I'd asked her to answer the questions for me in the first place.)

photo by andalusia via MorgueFile.com

I wish I had undertaken this exercise years ago. Though it took me awhile to find the answers, it gives me a sense of relief to have done so.

Since I don't specialize in a particular genre, it's easy to assume that my writing is fragmented; disconnected; that one work is completely dissociated from another, as if I just wander from project to project dumping word clumps on whatever happens to pique my fancy.

Ah, but it's not the genre that connects my works to each other. No. Instead, they are connected by characteristics, themes, and situations.

I now have a whole new feel for my material as a whole, rather than as a series of unconnected pieces. Better yet: I have a far greater understanding of who my ideal readers are.

*  My ideal readers like quirky characters with hidden strength and unwavering integrity.

*  My ideal readers appreciate antiheroes and the occasional bittersweet tragedy.

*  My ideal readers like to root for the underdog, knowing that sacrifice is often the key to success.

*  My ideal readers admire characters who refuse to give up, regardless of the odds.

I love being a genre-free writer. But I don't want to be a reader-free writer. Answering those four questions helped give me greater insight into my work. Now that I know what I have to offer my ideal readers, I am better equipped to find them.

Do you write genre-stuff or non-genre-stuff? What common threads connect your words? How do those threads then weave a pattern for your audience?

In Praise of Readers

Too often, writers forget that they have a dual audience. While it is true that we must write the things that move us, it is also true that we owe our readers our best.

In the past, I have worked with clients who came perilously close to forgetting this tenet. Ah, but the public is not clueless. And the moment a writer begins to think of the readers with distain (about the same time that writer begins to describe him- or herself with superlatives), the pact a writer makes to the reader has been broken.

My favorite moment in any movie is when the screen goes completely black just before the film begins. It is fraught with promise and possibility. Likewise, my favorite moment in any new book is sitting down with it and opening the cover. I am full of anticipation, and I hope the story will move me. I want the words to affect me. I want the book to become an all-time favorite.

Don't delude yourself: words don't make great writers. Readers do. Consider the amazing event that occurs when a writer's words leap off the page, engage the mind, and force a reader to consider the bold new possibilities presented by a new arrangement of 26 innocuous letters and a few punctuation marks!



No wonder we become fans of people who can craft words that affect us! Being a writer is akin to a sacred trust. When writers begin to think that their thoughts are all that matters, those writers allow pride to blind them to their readers.

I'm not suggesting for a moment that writers should lower their standards and write schlock in an effort to be all things to all people. But every writer should consider the reader a beacon of light on the creative landscape. The reader should inform every word, every turn of phrase, and every edit -- and the thought of one's readers should constantly encourage the writer to push the limits to deliver his or her very best work.

A Nation of Non-Readers

A recently released AP Poll(with an accuracy rate of plus or minus 3 percent) found that one quarter of all American adults read no books last year!

As a writer, this is brutal news.

True, there are others on the opposite end of the Reader Spectrum. One woman polled read approximately 70 books last year -- more than one a week. She's an older woman, with arguably more free time to read. She comes from a generation that was taught the importance of reading for one's self, envisioning the printed page in the mind's eye, and making up one's own mind.

What will become of this and future generations who do not find the same joy and value in the written word?

Reading occupies an entirely different set of mental muscles than watching a movie, watching TV, or playing video games. Reading is an engaged activity that allows two different minds -- the writer's and the reader's -- to meet without an electronic interface.

Reading allows one to connect with others on a cellular level. Through their writing, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Xenophon, William Shakespeare, and the Apostle Paul, for instance, are alive and well in this day and age.

Reading enables us to wrestle with others' ideas and learn from history.

But, according the this recent poll, one in four don't read.

They work.

They probably watch.

But they don't wonder enough to find out why.