My father used to say, take the best advice you can afford, then do the opposite.
I realize that’s what I’ve been doing in my recent writing. Even though the advice came from me.
As an agent, and someone who’s been around publishing for a long time, I freely offer my authors the benefits of my experience. Don’t write about things that are in today’s headlines, I tell them; it will only date your story. Don’t be too political: it will inevitably lead to a backlash. Don’t lecture: readers are easily bored. Avoid satire and sex scenes, unless you can do them with superb panache. And be wary of humor: it’s such a personal thing you can be sure one reader’s giggle is another’s groan. Wit is vital, but go easy on the jokes: what works on the stage rarely works on the page.
As a writer, what am I working on? A crime series where the lead character, a not-very-tall Jewish-atheist lawyer in his 70s, can’t avoid cracking jokes. (OK, I’m not a lawyer. So sue me.) A plot involving Jews being labelled antisemites for criticizing an Israeli establishment that thinks it has a God-given right to act as it pleases. Another plot where the leader of a popular campaign to hold politicians accountable for the promises they made to get elected mysteriously dies before his bill is debated. Also involved in that story is an oil company advising the government on clean air while suppressing reports - and knocking off whistleblowers - that demonstrate they’ve known for years about the damage they do to the planet. And I’m well into a story that explores the pros and cons of assisted suicide.
Why am I doing this? Because I’m enjoying it. I’m having fun saying things that need saying, and embedding them in credible characters who like happy endings where the good guys are vindicated and the bad guys get what they deserve. You don’t see much of that these days.
Also, working out the intricacies required by the crime genre is good for the brain, which at my age needs more exercise than ever. (I call my brain Amy, short for Amygdala, and I thank her constantly, not just for keeping me going, but for coming up with things I would never have consciously thought of. You know what I mean.) And I’m writing all this because I think, after many years as an editor, writer, and agent, I should know what works and what doesn’t.
So far, no one has come forward begging to publish the book. That, of course, could be because it’s no good. Or not good enough. Or it could be because I’ve ignored my own advice.
But sometimes you just have to write what you want to write, even if nobody wants to publish it. If you think, on a good day, that you might be getting the hang of things at last, that what you’re producing feels good, sounds good, and reads well, then you just have to carry on. Wrapping words around thoughts to make them interesting, surprising, and persuasive is quite an achievement. Of course I want loads of people to read the result, but even if it remains like a little angel perched on a digital cloud, I’ll still know it’s my little angel.
And my dad would be pleased I listened to him, for once.
But I’m still working as an agent. You think I’d trust someone from a rival agency with my work?
"after many years as an editor, writer, and agent, I should know what works and what doesn’t" Get one of them agents into a bar, pour a few into them and make sure they leave with your manuscript. You'll have leapfrogged about four thousand writers : )