Writing Outside Your Usual Genre
Recently, I was working with a developmental editing client who was worried about her new book idea falling outside her usual genre. The writer was really excited about her story but she thought writing a book that didn’t meet her current readers’ expectations would be impossible to market and a disappointment to her fans. She asked if she should scrap the book idea her muse was begging her to write.
So I told her a quick story.
When I was growing up in Oklahoma City, there were two main parks on my side of town. There was Stars and Stripes and there was Will Rogers, and the two parks had the children of the city divided.
Stars and Stripes had a mostly barren landscape except for a notorious steel play structure that peaked at a deadly ninety feet high. In the summer, the metal with direct sun exposure would burn your hands if you didn’t move fast. There was a steep staircase with sharp turns that led to a precarious chain platform designed to make you fall, hit a metal ramp, and slide thirty feet down to slam into a post that would then whip your body around and either throw you into a seizure-defying drop of a slide that flung you into gravel or it would throw you down a the last sixty feet of the metal ramp, into another post, and topple you onto a patch of sandburs.
It was awesome.
The other park, Will Rogers, was complete with grassy hills, a rose garden, and a sweet play structure made of thick timber. Parents lounged in the shade and chatted while the children swung, jumped, and climbed no higher than a reasonable eight feet from the ground, which was lined with a soft layer of bark chips (back before parks were lined with bark chips). There was a working water fountain and restrooms that were not only unlocked but had toilet paper. Toilet paper!
Everyone in Oklahoma City knew: you were either a Stars and Stripes kid or you were a Will Rogers kid.
The Stars and Stripes kids were tough, fast, and would drink your Capri Sun if you left it unattended. They were fiercely loyal friends. They wanted to grow up to be cops, Navy Seals, spies, and high profile lawyers. These were my people.
The Will Rogers kids brought picnic blankets with actual baskets, and dutifully picked up their dogs’ poop. They made sure no child was left out of their games. They wanted to grow up to be veterinarians, librarians, teachers, and pastors. These were people I could visit now and again.
Now, what stories do you think the kids who loved Stars and Stripes read at bedtime? What do you think the Will Rogers kids read? I’m guessing it wasn’t the same kinds of books.
There are all kinds of readers. And all kinds of writers. And just like the kids who were happy to visit the other playground once in a while, readers don’t mind a little variety. They often seek it.
Let’s get back to my editing client who worried about writing that book outside her usual genre. Let’s even broaden the discussion to those of you considering branching out into a new type of series.
My client’s readers were Will Rogers kids, and her new book was of the Stars and Stripes variety, but she needed to write it. You know you have to write yours. If you don’t write it, that story will weigh on you until you do as both a blessing and a curse.
Listen to your muse and, when you finally finish and launch that book, you’re going to find (like so many other successful authors) that the same kind of readers who are interested in your original books are also interested in your new one.
Why? Because your readers like your style, voice, approach, themes, and recurring ideas, even if they fall into a different genre.
Still not sure if writing outside your usual genre could work?
Have you ever experienced a genre crossover with one of your favorite authors? I have. Take bestselling author Augusten Burroughs, for example. He wrote the following:
Running With Scissors, a memoir about growing up with a bipolar mother who abandoned him to a very colorful cast of characters.
Wolf at the Table, a memoir about growing up with a narcissistic and dark father who descends into obsessive and homicidal thinking.
Dry, a memoir about Burroughs’ descent into alcoholism and ascent in recovery.
You Better Not Cry, Stories for Christmas, chronological short stories about Burroughs’ Christmas experiences.
Magical Thinking, an essay collection about Burroughs seeking external success and validation.
Possible Side Effects, a collection of humorous essays as a cautionary tale.
This is How, a self-help book with advice on many topics.
Toil and Trouble, a memoir about Burroughs coming out as a witch and moving from living solo in a NYC studio to moving into a Connecticut mansion with his husband.
Sellevision, a comedic novel about the advertising world, greed, and obsession.
Seven of these books are memoirs that would fall into five different marketing categories. One is a self-help book and one is a novel. Now, you wouldn’t think that there could be much overlap in the readers of these different books but I bought all nine. I like Burroughs’s themes and obsessions around family, mental illness, love, and seeking external validation. I love that Burroughs (who would have been a Will Rogers kid trapped at Stars and Stripes) writes what he can get excited about and that pulls me in as a reader (someone who now feels like a Will Rogers type in a Stars and Stripes world).
Trust that your readers want to explore the same things you do. Write what you are excited about, write it your way, and your story will engage your readers, no matter the genre.