Branded!
Hang around the publishing world very long, and you're almost certain to become more familiar than you might like to be with the word "brand." It's an issue often discussed among writers: in fact, as recently as this week, it's been a topic of conversation on a writers' group of which I'm a member.
Writers, particularly fiction writers, have a "brand." Brands are sometimes fairly simple to define: for example, John Grisham is known for his "legal thrillers." Nora Roberts for romance and romantic suspense. Elizabeth George for the British mystery. Janette Oke for her Canadian prairie love story. Louis L'Amour for his westerns. Etc.
Some brands are a little more complicated, and that's why confusion can set in. How an author is branded can even depend on which publisher or editor she's publishing with. For the most part, though, what I've gleaned from editors and my agent is that a writer's brand is what his fiction has come to be identified with--what booksellers and readers expect when they buy an author's books. That means that it has alot to do with genre, but even more with what they "get" from a novel's characters, its story, and the author's "voice."
Nick Harrison, senior editor at Harvest House Publishers, says that "branding doesn't always have to be the exact same time frame ... it's not the exact locale or era that always determines the brand ..."
It does seem that problems can develop for the author who steps too far away from her genre and her voice--from all the elements that make up her brand. For example, if a writer has been "branded" for years in romantic suspense and almost always writes in third person, and in a series format, then publishes a first-person, literary novel as a stand-alone story, the switch can be difficult for his readers--and the bookstore people will eventually hear about it. (He'll probably be going against his agent's and editor's better instincts as well.)
On the other hand, if an author is solidly "branded" in historical fiction, almost always writes in third person and in the series format during the World War I era, then publishes a series, still written in third person, but in the World War II time frame, that's a transition that will usually be accepted.
There are exceptions, naturally. Some writers have such a strong, compelling voice that's similar in almost any time frame and in any setting--and such huge sales histories--that they can get away with moving from one format to another and not suffer too much negative reaction. Yet you still have to wonder if their readership might not have been happier had they not changed courses after so many years.
John Grisham is an example. After a number of gripping legal thrillers, he published an altogether different kind of novel--The Painted House--and a nonfiction title--The Innocent Man. These were real departures from his usual fiction, and although they sold well--it's Grisham, after all--there was some grumbling from his readers who wished he'd return to what the publishing industry refers to as his original "brand."
Two authors come to mind whose novels seem to defy the need to stay within a certain brand--and yet if you take a closer look, you'll find that, for the most part, the novels of Jodi Picoult and Angie Hunt, while they might first appear to fall into no particular brand, actually do fall under a kind of brand: each writes contemporary, uncompromising stories dealing with current, often serious issues of major concern to today's readers, and often containing elements of surprise we can't see coming until the very end. This in itself is a kind of brand. And one that works very well for each author.
For new writers, this issue of brand can be a source of anxiety and frustration. There's enough emphasis, by some publishers, but not all, put on author brand that new writers sometimes think they need to define their brand right away, even before they publish their first novel. Again, I especially like what Nick Harrison has to say about this: " ... a new writer probably needs to worry less about branding and more about learning to be a really good writer ... branding is not among a beginning writer's primary problems. If he or she is a good writer, an agent or their editor will help them decide when/if branding should become a priority."
I'm currently working on something a little different (for me, that is), but I'm also keeping intact some elements that my readers have come to expect: an historical time frame, at least one Irish American character, and a noble, large dog. I think many writers, after publishing for several years, feel the urge to try something a little different. That's what this is for me--something I've wanted to try for a "change" in a setting that's long interested me, but also, I think, comfortably falls within the brand my readers will be anticipating.
With all the buzz about brand, though, I'll admit I'm glad and even relieved that I was "branded" before I ever heard the word or knew what it meant. That made it easy for me: I learned my brand from the publisher. I hate to think what I might have come up with if I'd had to figure it out for myself!
BJ
