Figuring Out What Readers Expect When They Don't Know They Expect Anything

HAPPY PRIDE!!

I must learn to stop suggesting topics I want the answer to. I should keep in mind that at some point, I'm going to have to pretend to know some version of an answer.

So yes. Analyzing genre reader expectations is something I'm interested in understanding. I have a friend who speaks in terms of hitting reader buttons. One of her examples is that somewhere in the first third of a romance, the heroine sees through the hero's BS. She sees who he could have been (and could still be) if only he hadn't been forced to develop callouses and scars on his heart and seeing that dichotomy makes her MAD. Now, I would never have ID'ed that particular point, but thinking it through, I see it. So it got me thinking about what other hot buttons I'm reading right over the top of unseeing.

I know what *I* want to see in a story. I'm not entirely certain I'm the best benchmark, however.  Then I got involved in a fandom for a show (a rom com). The fandom skews younger than my typical audience and I do a lot of listening. The fan analysis of the show has been DEEP and I'm soaking it up because I'm getting glimpses into what lights these young people up. One of them made a great observation that they aren't like the generations before them who all want to be comforted and made to feel content and happy. She said, "We don't want any of that. We *want* you to rip out our hearts and squeeze them dry." There were many pile-on comments affirming this, though I won't take it as The Truth for an entire generation - but for this rabid and insanely loyal fan base, I will take it as gospel.

I'm still trying to process it and see if somewhere in my own work I can pull some angst into the mix. My take away: Read. Yes, absolutely. But don't stop there. Seek out stories in every format and look at the beats. What happens where? When? Why? What sticks with you? In my case, having this totally over the top fandom picking apart every scene, every nuance, and every breath the characters take has been an amazing master class in understanding what touched the most people in the biggest way. Spoiler: It was tiny detail in the developing relationship - not the big gestures. The smallest touch at the point of greatest danger ruined the Twitter feed for that fandom for months. Months. That's the kind of genre reader expectation I'm looking for - an expectation readers might not be able to name, yet crave all the same without knowing. Then, if I'm clever, I turn that expectation on its head a bit and leave my readers in puddles on the floor. But no pressure.

Consuming stories is a good start if you're analyzing expectations but I feel like it's possible to consume passively - to just take in and experience. The real power comes from a sense of curiosity around what makes something affect you, how it affects you, and why it affects you. Only then can you parse out the pieces and rearrange them to your own purpose. Finding a group of people who are impacted by the same story you are and who are willing to obsess about it at length with you helps enormously. But it's 100% optional.

Book Club Tales

Once upon a time, our community had a book club. The organizer found out I'm an author and talked me into joining the group. We met once a month, as you do. Voted on which books to read. The group always picked two books so you'd have a choice of what to read and then divided the group along the lines of who read what. Then we sat around and talked about them. Indoors. Seated right next to one another. As if we had nothing in the world to fear. It was the before times.

Yeah Covid shut us all done and dealt a fatal blow to the group. Too many of our members were elderly or immune-compromised. In an active community with a population that skews pretty hard to retirees, the book club was a social haven for our neighbors with mobility issues or who are fighting cancer. So even after vaccinations and options to meet outdoors, the group never recovered and there is no book club in my neighborhood these days.

I liked the book club and I disliked the book club.

I liked that one of the books changed a woman's mind about what it means to be transgender. She'd firmly believed it was all nonsense. The book we read got her inside a transgender child's misery and their parents' struggles to comprehend and finally help the child thrive. If a book can engender compassion, that's power and I'm entirely here for that.

I disliked the book club because book clubs only want to read *important* books. You know. Oprah books. Literary books. Genre fiction isn't allowed. I could nominate as many genre fics as I wanted (don't think I didn't). They were never voted for. Not even as alternates. I'd gotten maybe three books into this book club deal and had pretty much decided it Was Not For Me (tm) when the pandemic handled the matter. Though I note that if we'd managed to keep a club going during the pandemic, I'm comfortably certain the members would have been more amenable to lightening the mood with some genre fiction.

My problem is that high school put me off reading literary books. It's just that I paid good money to big pharma and therapists over the years to stop being depressed and literary books depress me. Some of them are brilliant and uplifting and lovely. Water for Elephants comes to mind. But for the most part, literary books aren't invested in character arcs and I want to believe in the power of the individual to change. That's the appeal of genre fiction for me. I have yet to find a book club anywhere that wanted to read Murderbot stories. So I'll stick with genre fiction in my quiet corner of solitude where I can read the happy and the fun. Preferably SF, Romance, Fantasy, PNR, Steampunk - whatever my weird little heart takes a shine to. If I find a no pressure, come as you are book club that wants to stick to guaranteed HEA books, I'd be tempted to join. Until then, Twitter fandoms will be my clubs. 

How Authors Are Like Venus Flytraps

 

What's my favorite reader interaction?

Uh, any that are positive? I'm not picky. I'm over the moon when they happen. I'm enough of a human (no, really) to enjoy having my ego fed. I sure as hell ain't gonna dictate how that goes down. Well, don't show up at my house uninvited, but beyond that I'm like a Venus flytrap, snatching up whatever little scrap of "it was good" or "liked it" I can get. I am always grateful when a reader takes the time to let me know. 

Now, if you want to see me tap my foot and howl with glee like a happy puppy...that'll be from fan art. I haven't received any yet, but I love, love, love seeing what fans draw for other authors/stories/characters. Those skills, man, I salute.

Who's Looking Over Your Shoulder as You Write? Appeasing the Fandom

One of my faithful desk companions - Isabel has little interest in the stories themselves, but she disapproves of my reaching for the mouse. Good incentive for me to keep typing with no backtracking!

Not as visible - and not as likely to claw me for reaching for the mouse - is everyone else virtually on my desk as I write. By this I mean my readers. And not just any readers - but those passionately invested in the stories, worlds and characters. You know who you are! These are the power readers, the ones who take time to give me personal feedback on how much they love what I write.

And they have opinions. Sometimes strong ones. Again, you know who you are. :-)

That's our topic this week: Responding to the fandom – where do you draw the line? (e.g., not killing a character after all)

It's an interesting question for me because I've noted several authors in recent years who I've felt have caved to reader pressure on various levels. That might be a bit sideways of this topic, so let me respond directly to the question before I dive into that.

Would I not kill a character because my readers urged me not to? Absolutely. Okay, probably I wouldn't. The only exception would be if I believed that death to be necessary to the story in a way that resulted in greater richness. I wouldn't do it to make a point or to create emotional angst. I like stories that make me feel enriched and optimistic, so I like to leave my readers with that feeling, too. I have killed characters - because people die, and sometimes a character's death is needed to allow another to move forward - and I would even kill a loved character because the story demands it.

For example, in MAGIC RISES, the sixth Kate Daniels books (don't read this paragraph if you aren't caught up and don't want to be spoilered) Ilona Andrews made the choice to kill Aunt Bea, a hugely popular character. I tell you - and you know if you love the series, too - I cried and cried. BUT, her death was important. The stakes were very high and it made no sense if no one was killed in that situation. Also, her death meant a change in the political structure and allowed two other characters to step into leadership positions. I'm sure the writing team of Ilona and Gordon Andrews got a LOT of upset feedback from their passionate fandom about not killing that character. They mention in interviews that they argued between themselves about it.

They made a hard decision and stood by it.

At the same time, other authors have made the choice to kill characters - even first person point-of-view protagonists - in order to make a point. George RR Martin famously kills off characters, sometimes almost arbitrarily, to demonstrate how capricious such things can be, and how tenuous our grip on life.

I'm not into that so much.

Where I do draw my own line is bending to political pressure. There's a great deal of discussion online about what's appropriate in real life - such as consent and healthy relationships - and also trope exhaustion. I've seen authors change their stories to accommodate this kind of feedback. One wrote a beta hero who gave way to the heroine in all things because her readers were "tired of alpha holes." (That's a cross between alpha and asshole, for those not in the know.) You know what? That book was dead boring, at least to me. I know some readers loved it, which is cool, but I thought it was far from her strongest work - and I fell off reading that series due to lack of interest.

Another author has gotten tons of feedback on a couple who are both highly emotional, sometimes violent people. She's really toned down their interactions over the years - and I wonder how much is due to the sometimes strongly chastising posts written about some of those scenes. The thing is, I read the most recent book - found it dead boring - then went back to an earlier one and devoured it for all the excitement and turmoil. I'm missing that element now.

Passionate voices are loud voices - and strong opinions have great conviction behind them. It's important to discuss issues like consent and healthy relationships. But it's worth noting that conflict is what makes STORIES interesting and exciting. I think authors bend to social pressure at the risk of bleeding the energy from their books.

In real life, we'd never find it useful for someone to die. As authors of our worlds, it's a choice we make. Sometimes with relish.

Because relish is what adds the flavor!

Fandom: the Gateway Drug to World Building

The picture has nothing to do with the subject today. It's just the season for butterflies in the zinnias and I was lucky enough to be out there with a camera when this one flitted in to have a snack.

World building, huh? Well. I have a theory.

Fandom is the gateway drug to world building (and often to writing . . .)

Pretend for me that I'm not the only one so invested in a fandom or twelve that I tell myself stories inside the world of whatever story/movie/book/game du jour that I love. I mean, you have a thing you love. Maybe it's Dr. Who, or Anime,  or Star Wars, or Sponge Bob. I don't know and I don't judge. Much. But after you've binge-watched all you can binge-watch, what happens?

If, like me, you go into immediate withdrawal, you probably start daydreaming yourself onto the bridge of the starship Enterprise. Or into some tiny New England sea-side town mysteriously afflicted by madness and rumors of something terrible lurking beneath the surface of the waves. If you do that, you're world building. If you've ever shipped a non-canon partnering in that thing you love, you're world building. Sure. Both are on a small scale and in someone's pre-built world. But you are and you know what they say. The first taste is free.

It's a slippery slope. First you're playing through mental movies of you starring in that thing that gives you life, the next, you're resentful of the restrictions that come with working inside someone else's constraints. I mean it's a stupid rule that Sponge Bob can't fly, right? So you shift worlds - you create a new construct, one that's all your own, one that won't hold back your imagination. The world you create may be based off of something that already exists - whether book, game, TV show or movie, but you'll have tweaked it to suit you. And that's it. You're hooked on world building. You're spending your time debating the finer points of whether magic that requires blood makes the mages of your world vampires and if it doesn't, where exactly IS the line between blood mage and vampire? (Do they ever cooperate? Share blood recipes, maybe?)

World building is a game, one that begins with 'what if?' and ends in narrative structure, conflict and some kind of resolution. You mix and match and create something wholly new. Like a mad scientist. Oh. Oh. Do you suppose this makes one of us here the Walter White of fiction?