This post is for writers…and readers!  Let me start by saying that men suck at reading.  Statistically, women beat us hands down.  This is a modern phenomenon.  You’ve all seen those movies and TV shows that are period pieces about the 1700s and 1800s, even early 20^th century.  The rich old boys had their impressive libraries filled with leather-bound classics and even recent “popular works,” all in good order in exquisitely carved cases and shielded with sliding glass doors to keep them from the servants.  I don’t know how much those rich old boys actually read—the real reading might have been done by the wives and children or—heaven forbid!—those sneaky servants.

I’d guess that not much real reading was done back then.  They say Jefferson read every book in his extensive library (donated after the War of 1812 to help replace the Library of Congress’ decimated collection), but he most certainly was an exception.  But you never know—maybe Davy Crockett was reading Gargantua and Pantugrel as he waited for the Mexican army to attack the Alamo.  I think the Boomer years probably saw more male readers percentage-wise than now because women still didn’t have that much free time back in the fifties and early sixties—only rich women with servants and nannies found real time to read, if they weren’t playing tennis and croquet at the country club.  Women have a bit more time now for leisure activities, even working women and even some single mothers, and they’re doing more reading than men because men now spend their leisure time elsewhere .

The above might just be my gross misperception.  Numbers are one question, but the real question is: what are people reading?  In spite of modern distractions (TV, computer games, music downloads, and so forth), people still curl up with a book or their Kindle and read.  There are more books every day to read, between legacy and indie publishing, so it’s definitely a reader’s market.  I recently had a Father’s Day gift card and downloaded five very good ebooks, and I still had money left over—all indie books, of course (the card would have covered only one legacy ebook).  In general, that might mean that writers aren’t getting their due and that it’s hard to make a living writing anymore, but that’s not the point here.  There’s a glut of good books out there, so many that you can’t begin to read them all, not even in one genre.  (There’s also a glut of clunkers—with legacy publishing not immune—but, again, that’s a different issue.)

Reading tastes vary, of course.  To be mathematical about it, they’re a function of demographical variables—sex, age, education, geographical location, and so forth.  The Harry Potter generation might have rediscovered reading, for example, but I doubt they’ll all be reading fantasy when they’re forty.  Men seem to be more into suspense, thrillers, and sci-fi, but I know plenty of men who won’t touch anything but non-fiction (if they read at all).  In fiction, women tend toward mysteries, historical fiction, romance novels of all kinds, and erotica, but the Fifty Shades trilogy—at least the first book—might have attracted a few male readers on the sly.  That the young—middle years and young adults—stick to those categories is a myth, at least in my impoverished statistics.

That last comment brings up two points: statistics, and categories v. genres.  I might be giving them too much credit, but I’d suppose that legacy publishers maintain their own stats.  They know what people are reading; they pass that secret info on to the agents, their gatekeepers; and every submission goes through that statistical filter.  With all those royalties they don’t pay their authors, you’d think that was the least they could do.  Information is power, after all, and the Big Five wants to have all the power over readers and writers they can muster.  As a consequence, I have no real statistical basis for my perceptions—they’re more anecdotal.  Ask your favorite Big Five rep (but don’t expect an honest answer!)

But I do want to emphasize the difference between reader category and book genre, although it’s purely semantics.  For me, men, women, adult, young middle age, Black, Hispanic, and young adults are reader categories.  Within these categories, you have a variety of book genres—women’s mysteries, young adult fantasies, and so forth.  These combos already give us some idea about what people in different reader categories are reading.  Writers and publishers wouldn’t use them if no books like that were sold, and readers wouldn’t pay any attention to them if no one was reading books like that.

Taxonomy, so common in biology, is part of the publishing business too.  Elizabeth Sims, in her excellent and recent Writer’s Digest article, “Shelf Savvy,” approaches this as a writer’s problem in service to his or her readers.  That’s the right attitude.  While I might differ on the semantics—to me Black or YA is a reader category, while thriller, erotica, fantasy, and so forth are genres within that category, which might have sub-genres, like Black medical thriller or YA vampire fantasy.  The important idea here is the multilevel nature of the taxonomy and how one book can fall into different levels.  The more levels the book falls into, the more readers it should appeal to, but there’s a dangerous diffusion that can occur.

By diffusion I mean confusion, like trying to order something from a barista.  The reader might say to herself, “If this book fits into all these categories and genres, will I really like it?”  I’d say that making a book seem like a stew—a heady soup with something for everyone—is dangerous for both reader and writer.  This danger is more important for an indie writer than for one backed by a publishing house—for better or worse, the publishing house usually determines the categorization.  If they screw it up, the onus is on  them.

The indie writer might trend more to diffusing his categories and genres to try to appeal to more readers, and therein lies the danger.  For example, my YA novel, The Secret Lab, was written for young adult readers (ages 12-18).  But I also say that it works for adults who are young-at-heart, because I read some YA myself (for example, the Harry Potter series, a series of paranormal fantasies for young adults, in my vernacular).  While I believe that statement, I realize that an adult reader might question it.  A reader, accustomed to page-length paragraphs and very descriptive prose, might object to my minimalist style (I use this everywhere, not just in writing YA) and unsophisticated vocabulary (I wrote for a precocious twelve-year-old).

For readers, categorization is often nebulous.  Readers are smart—they know mystery and suspense are often interchangeable.  They know historical fiction and military fiction might apply to the same book too.  They have to always cast a broad net to capture those gems that will keep them on the edge of their chair or gripping the arms of their recliner.  For authors, I would like to emphasize Elizabeth Sims’ last point: don’t stress yourself with all these choices, especially when you’re writing.  Finish the book and let the categorization fall where it may.  Intelligent readers will work it out.  And start writing that next book.  If a reader likes the current one, she’ll look for the next, so it’s best to have it ready.

In libris libertas….

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