I attended a workshop given by actor/author Keith Strunk. At one point, when describing how an actor decides what actions to use to convey his character appropriately, someone asked him, “Do you consider how your actions impact the audience at this point in the process?” Keith replied, “Absolutely not. To think about how you are impacting the audience at this stage would be death.”
This got me thinking about the writing process, and at which points the author should consider the audience. Because Keith is right—there are some points at which we cannot think about the impact we are having on the audience.
When we are writing the story, that first draft, caught up in the creative passion, bringing it to life, we cannot consider an outside influence like the audience. The story needs to speak for itself, we need to hear what it and the characters need to come alive. If we start considering the audience, we run a grave risk of forcing the story into directions it should not go, or creating puppet-characters that only do what we think they should do. We risk taking the vitality out of the story.
After that draft, when the revision starts, that is when the audience should enter our thoughts. Are the characters relatable to the audience we are targeting? Is the language and content appropriate for that audience? This is where how we impact the audience comes into play.
I also think that we need to consider our audience in the initial idea phase. If you primarily write middle grade and you come up with an idea, you need to consider 1) would/could this idea make an appropriate MG story? and if not 2) do I want to write a story for a new audience and try and break into a new market? I do not think at this point you should try an shoehorn a non-MG idea into an MG idea, since then you end up with the problems mentioned above. But I do think you need to know before you start who your audience would be for this book. That way, if you do not want to break into a new market, you don’t waste your time on a book that you can’t sell to the market where you are already established.
To write your absolute best story, you need to listen to the story—not worry about your audience. So when you sit down to write, just write the story as it needs to be told. Listen to your characters. Be bold and explore.
Chances are, if you do that, your story will be so good that any audience will devour it.
When do you think about your audience?
Undervaluing the Art of Writing
I’ve read a bunch of blogs lately that wonder why we writers are often reluctant to tell other (non-writing) people that we are writers. The answer always seems to come down to this: Other people do not value what we writers do.
Certainly if we are able to say that we have sold a bunch of books, or written for prestigious magazines, people do not react the same way as when we admit that we’ve been querying since the Jurassic era and still haven’t sold anything. They find little or no value in the hours and weeks and years of work and sweat and money we have put into improving our craft and writing book after book without any tangible return on our investment.
There was a time in history when art of all sorts was valued more than it is now. Many artists had patrons who supported them so they could focus on their art. The patrons got the prestige of having beautiful art made just for them, and the artist got to work with relative peace of mind. Paintings, sculptures, and, yes, even books were commissioned and paid for by avid supporters. Books were written and copied by hand, and owning a book was a privilege.
Not so anymore. Ever since Gutenberg, technology has contributed to the devaluation trend. We started being able to print out thousands of these things called books, and suddenly it wasn’t special to have a book—anyone could get one. Books stopped being art and became a commodity—units to be sold. Familiarity bred contempt.
Technology has also contributed to the proliferation of writers. The word processor has made it easy for people to write and revise. And with technology like laptops and tablets and smartphones, people can write anything, from virtually anywhere. Enter the ease of self-publishing these days, and a tsunami of writers has swamped the world. As always with when supply outstrips demand, less intrinsic value is placed on that item.
And because it appears so easy to write, writing doesn’t seem like work to people. It seems like play. Like…dare I say it…a hobby. And unfortunately, until you get an agent, until you get a book contract, most people will not consider what we do “real work”—because we are writing for no money. And in this day and age, that means there is no value to what we do.
But there is value in what we do, tremendous value. Personally, it gives us great joy, in spite of the sweating blood moments. Even more so, when we write something that touches someone, we have accomplished a minor miracle. Contemporary fiction might reach a person who felt that they were all alone and give them hope. Fantasy or science fiction might reach someone who needs an escape—or fire someone’s imagination. Every book that touches a reader takes them to someplace they have never been, into someone else’s life, and leaves the reader seeing their own world in a different way.
We inspire hope, compassion, understanding, courage, and dreams.
If that’s not value, what is?
So go ahead and say it – I AM A WRITER!