Which Way to Craft Services?

Teal Deer (TL; DR)

Which Way to Craft Services?

Earlier this week, I was looking at some of my oldest short stories and novellas and thinking “Wow, these were hot garbage. I can never market this part of my backlist.” The instinct is to counter with assurances that it can’t be that bad and it’s fine and of course I can still publicize an outdated backlist—when, really, having those feelings is a positive. Because you know what? I can see how I’ve improved. What I was writing and publishing in 2010 might be cringe as fuck now, but the marked difference 16 years have made is something to be proud of. I’ve had almost two decades to screw up, try again, and try some more. That’s lucky, given the state of the romance publishing industry these days.  

See, there used to be a learning curve, where a romance writer could start out in small presses and anthologies and work their way into being better and growing their audience. You could join RWA or local writing groups, go to writer-centric conferences and sit in on workshops—not just be dropped right into reader-focused signings. There were contests you could enter with experienced romance editors as judges and you could get critiques as well as win money. So many ways to absorb not just the rules of the industry, but of the genre itself. It was like the romance author equivalent of getting your SAG card and filling up your Playbill blurb by playing a corpse on Law & Order or being a dayplayer on All My Children. But just like how those opportunities to get on-the-job training on a New York soap opera are gone, so is the space and time to hone your writercraft.

The romance market is so crowded now—more than it ever was. There’s been a huge indie explosion in the past decade and as the trad Big Six has shrunk to the Big Four (or whatever number we’re on now), there’s a ton of competition there as well. If you aren’t a smash hit right out of the gate, you might as well pack it in. It’s such a grind-and-churn industry that there’s no longer room for slow evolution. Authors aren’t being nurtured and soaking up knowledge from who and what came before. They have to grab bestseller status as an indie debut, as a trad debut, with whatever skills or advantages they already have. (And, as many of us know, all too often that advantage just boils down to whiteness. That particular systemic and social barrier also existed in the days of yore and is worth a whole separate piece on its own.) 

There’s a sneering criticism of writers who “sound like Wattpad fan fiction.” (I’ve never been on Wattpad, FYI. If you’re going to condescend to me, please diss me with Fanfiction.net, LiveJournal, and AO3.) Here’s the thing—fic is the primary training ground for romance writers now. And, yeah, it’s going to be inconsistent. Fandom’s always been the Wild West, an enclave for ferals. Not everyone will come away with the same craft lessons or wield them well. But it’s one of the few spaces where collaborative learning and feedback exchange is still occurring. Since it’s based in existing IP and recognizable marketing hooks, it becomes a lot easier to ride that fic-to-publishing track. It’s also really easy to miss the basic Writing 101 steps one needs to be taking in between. Especially with the pressure to make an immediate splash.

As much as many newer works and “BookTok faves” make me wince because they could be stronger, I grieve for how the writers haven’t had access to what my generation—and previous generations—of romance authors did. The learning and the community, sure. But, first and foremost, what they’re not allowed is time. You don’t get years anymore. You barely get days. This business will forget you in an hour.

So, I’m happy to remember where I started and how far I’ve come.