I’ve recently mentioned the book I’m currently working on, A Magic Life.
A couple people have emailed to ask what’s been happening with the novel I wrote before starting A Magic Life. That novel is called Promise, and I’m currently shopping it around to agents.
The general feeling from the rejections I’ve received so far is, “Hey, I really like this. You’re a talented writer, but…it’s a bit quirky in places, and I’m not sure how to market that.”
This was the same reaction I got with Hell Comes with Wood Paneled Doors — a totally different kind of novel.
Quirky Fiction
I understand the apprehension surrounding something deemed quirky. At the same time, some of my favorite books — which are often the favorite books of others — are quite quirky.
- The random [sometimes, almost ridiculous] happenings in John Irving’s novels are quirky.
- My favorite novel, A Trail of Heart’s Blood Wherever We Go — quirky!
- Kurt Vonnegut was a quirky writer.
- Many bestsellers are quirky.
The Power of Quirkiness
There’s staying power in quirkiness; it’s often the difference between a typical novel and a memorable novel. Quirkiness can be that thing that sets an author apart from so many others, creating loyal fans.
Mark Haddon sat on bestseller lists for The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time; Leif Enger’s Peace Like a River did, too. Chuck Palahniuk has made a living from twisted quirkiness. Michael Chabon won the Pulitzer Prize with a novel that has Salvador Dali almost drowning while wearing a diving bell at an upscale party!
There’s power in the little things that give an author their voice.
The Fate of Promise
I know I’m onto something from the feedback I’ve received so far in regards to Promise; I know it takes just that one yes to have a shot.
While what happens with Promise remains to be seen, as I loaded a much longer peek at Promise on my website yesterday, I skimmed passages that I haven’t read in months and was proud to be in the company of the myriad quirky novels that came before.
No matter what happens, I’m not sure I’ll ever write a more me novel in my life.
Well, I LOVED the story when I read it. I’m sure a lot of people would say I’m biased, being your wife and all, but you really are my favorite writer. I can also say that I read your writing before I really ever met you. I always loved how you handled dialogue, and I adore the quirkiness of your writing. I also will tell you bluntly if something doesn’t do it for me (CPs, while well-written, just wasn’t my thing, for example)… so I am able to ignore the fact that you’re my husband.
I really hope someone takes a chance on you, because you’re right… good, fun, quirky writing is a blast to read. Your stories have great characters, and touching content. You’ve worked very hard at this and you deserve the chance to have your writing reach more people.
And I’m not just saying that.
I am a fellow warrior monk in the temple of quirk.
Quirk on.
Cynthia: I still love that you liked my comic book scripts before you even met me — and were disappointed when you found out we were working on other projects for that little company. I know Promise isn’t your normal thing, but there’s a romance element nestled in there with all the grittiness. Those who have described it as TV’s Northern Exposure meets Fargo or seen a feeling of even Twin Peaks in it all are accurate, but it has a happy ending and it’s its own thing.
The short story you mentioned, “Cubicle Punks,” (CP) — the feedback you gave me is one of my favorite reviews. I know you didn’t like the characters or the topic of the story at all, but at the same time, you recognized it as a big step in what I did and now do as a writer. More than that, though, it let me know you don’t just say you like things to spare my feelings. You hated the story, but respected the actual writing — and that was cool 🙂
Deacon: You really are one of my favorite writers. The things you do…I don’t know how you do them, and the chances you take always impress the hell out of me. And that’s what I suppose I was getting at when I wrote this entry. There are those writers who are somehow different. Accessible enough to still be mainstream, but have something else that makes them stand out.
I always hear about writers branding themselves online, and “branding” often seems to mean, “I’m louder than you!” … not so much, “I stand out as something still within the confines of accessible, while still doing my own thing.” The writers people revere really seem to be those who offered something accessible, but still a little different. There are so many more quirky writers than the handful I mentioned who are big. Hopefully there will be a day we’re included in a list like that.
Christopher Moore –! The man does quirk.
Mark: I was going to include him, but I haven’t read enough of his stuff to say with confidence that he’s quirky…although I KNOW he is. His Twitter account alone cracks me up, and what little I’ve read, I’ve liked. Being the geek I am for King Lear, I need to read Fool.
You do quirky very well, Mark. I think it’s safe to say that we’re friends, in part, because of the gravity of quirkiness. When I read the screenplay for Pale Blue Moon and then saw the movie — while I know you’ve grown as a writer — even somebody I let watch it, recently, was like, “What else has he done?” because he loved the quirk factor. Give ‘Em Hell Malone was fun, too, and I assume it’s safe to say White Knuckle will not be without the quirk?
OK after reading “quirky” a quirky number of times, I started to wonder about an “official” definition.
From dictionary.com: “an individual peculiarity of character; mannerism or foible.”
Peculiarity? “a trait, manner, characteristic, or habit that is odd or unusual.”
And I left it at that. “Odd” and “unusual” will only lead to more quirky words. But that’s the beauty of it, eh?
CMS: I can live with odd and unusual 🙂
I would say Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle is unusual, and that Irving has an odd fascination with bears, missing body parts, and so many other things that make his books quirky.
So I will embrace my odd and unusual traits in the things I write, because even the official definition works for me and what I do. (And I need to work “foible” into more conversations, because it’s a great quirky word!)
Let me just say, I love quirky! Quirky people are the best and so are quirky novels!
Anita: Thank you for the reply, and I agree: I like quirky people and quirky books. One of the things I like about having a day job is meeting quirky people at work — the kinds of people I may never really hang out with away from work, but look forward to seeing when I go in. I’ve always had a reputation of being the guy at jobs who gets along well with the “weird people,” and while that’s sometimes meant dealing with people who often don’t have many friends and they can really control a conversation because they finally have somebody who will listen, it’s in that listening that I’ve really found that there are reasons some people seem odd, and I’m always glad to listen.
Quirky books? I just love quirky books! 🙂
Quirky is aces. No one was ever remembered for writing a bland, ordinary book.
Shawn: Exactly. The books on my shelves that I return to…and the books that so many people revere…there’s usually something quirky or different that sets it apart from ordinary.
Promise is a mainstream book. Straight up. But…I think at the mention of “wrestling” and a murder that some only see those things — not what the book is really about: a recently-divorced celebrity chef fitting into a tiny town like he’s dreamed about since childhood.
Hell, here’s the query letter (with a couple things removed, ’cause they are spoilers):
Following a tumultuous divorce, Ryan Shiflett sells his two successful restaurants in Chicago and flees to the north woods to fulfill a childhood dream of getting away from it all, but Promise is not the idyllic place he hoped to find. The former celebrity chef finds himself stuck in a nearly deserted town inhabited by quirky artists, professional wrestlers, venomous beetles, and a timid sheriff who becomes fixated on the disappearance of the town’s troublemaker, Billy Babitzke. After [REMOVED ‘CAUSE IT’S A SPOILER], Ryan is ready to leave Promise for good—then he meets Allison Payne.
Hoping to impress Allison, Ryan enrolls in wrestling lessons, where he spends more time wrestling with unresolved issues from his divorce than impressing people in the ring. Ryan’s bid for attention turns out to be unnecessary; a friendship with Allison forms over lunches Ryan prepares for her while she helps him restore his old house. Ryan settles into a new routine and finds himself accepted as a member of Promise. Just when it looks like Ryan really did find his perfect place, the dream becomes a nightmare the morning he finds [REMOVED ‘CAUSE IT’S A BIG SPOILER].
Having finally come to grips with his divorce, Ryan now struggles to understand why [REMOVING HERE, TOO]. Things get worse when Ryan discovers Allison is leaving Promise for an extended travel writing assignment. When Sheriff Ed Littleton discovers the body of Billy Babitzke with no clear answer of who put him there, accusations threaten to tear the town apart. As Promise’s secrets are finally revealed and it looks like there’s no hope for recovery, Ryan comes up with an idea that brings everybody together—and in the process, finds the one thing his life has always lacked: a sense of belonging.
I think all some see is “WRESTLING” and “VENOMOUS BEETLES,” but it’s about a guy who falls back in love and ends up fitting in — a pretty universal thing.
Maybe I should have mentioned the farting dog…