The Wonderful World Of Advertisements

So what was the point of yesterday's post besides a nice blast from the past? To give you an idea of how advertising have changed over the past twenty years. It's different, yet in a way it's the same. As our culture has evolved, so has the way companies try to sell us stuff we don't really need.

I'll be honest -- very few ads work on me today. When I was a kid and would see a new toy advertised on TV (like something from Nerf), you better believe I wanted that toy. Those ads made those toy seem so much fun. But then when you did get that particular toy, you realized it wasn't quite what you thought it was going to be.

I think it's when we're children that we start to become immune to advertisements.

They bombard us constantly. On TV, at the movies, in newspapers and magazines, on billboards, on the websites we visit. We see them so much that we just start to ignore them without really thinking.

Sometimes I just don't understand the reason for certain ads. Like the Iron Man sequel opening this weekend. The studio is spending millions and millions on TV spots and billboards and ads in magazines and TV, not to mention banner ads on websites (and how many people really click on banner ads? I can't think of a single banner ad I've ever clicked on). And my question is ... why? It's friggin' Iron Man! The movie's going to be huge. Why not put the trailer online and let the bloggers do all your advertising for you?

I was thinking the other day how if The Matrix was released today, it wouldn't be as popular as it was then (forget the fact it was groundbreaking when it came out, helped changed film making forever, etc). But if it did come out today, the studio would ram it down everyone's throat. Like Iron Man and every other big budget movie out there, they want to make sure people know it exists, so they give us a marketing overload.

But do you remember when The Matrix came out in 1999? How there wasn't that much advertising for it? (And if there was, I don't remember it; all I remember is maybe one TV spot and that's it; you didn't have three or four different trailers making the rounds.) I went into the movie not really knowing what it was about, and holy shit was I blown away within the first couple minutes. I don't want to sound cheesy, but the movie was a life-changing experience. And so of course I couldn't stop talking about it once I left the theater. Many other people couldn't either. It was a movie that you told everyone about.

Word of mouth is a great thing. And now with the Internet, there is what is known as viral marketing. It's what really pushed the concept of Hint Fiction out there to the masses. If it wasn't for the Internet and people mentioning it on blogs, who then in turn mentioned it on blogs, it never would have become as big as it did. And, hopefully, it will continue to grow.

Some books do very well by word of mouth promotion. Hell, look at Paul Harding's Tinkers, which was published by a small independent publisher and managed to win the Pulitzer Prize. The story of the book's stop-and-go process is fascinating. There was no huge marketing campaign for that novel. No ads taken out in the New York Times and USA Today.

As this previous post showed, it doesn't take that much to make a book a bestseller. Yes, it takes money, of course, but if a publisher pays a lot for a book (say, six figures) then you better believe that publisher is going to do everything it can to earn back on its investment. That's just good business sense. So they advertise everywhere, print thousands and thousands of copies, and ensure that it reaches the bestseller list.

But just because a book reaches the bestseller list, does it mean it's successful?

I remember talking to my agent once about a certain novel which had earned its author a huge advance, and my agent said something like "Yeah, but that book tanked." I said, "It was a New York Times bestseller though." He said, "But that doesn't mean anything."

And he's right. If a publisher pays one million dollars for a novel, just imagine how many copies that novel will have to sell to earn out. It's almost impossible unless the author is someone like James Patterson or Stephen King. (Speaking of which, do authors of that magnitude really need all the marketing campaign they get? Just like Iron Man, we know they have books coming out, and when they come out we'll buy them, so why not push some of that marketing budget toward a book by a lesser known author who could use the boost?) And so that book that the publisher paid one million clams for hits the bestseller list for a week or two. Okay, that's nice for the author (they can forever be known as a bestselling author, have it engraved on their tombstone if they wish), but that just means a few thousand copies were sold in a week's time. As the weeks progress and the sales go down, just how well has that book done now? And then you have books that stay on the bestseller lists for weeks and weeks, sometimes even months, sometimes even years, and it's thanks to those books that help publishers stay afloat.

It's impossible to predict how well a book will or will not do. You just can't predict it no matter how hard you try.

The advance for the anthology wasn't very large, so Norton will not be doing the same amount of publicity as they would for a book that they paid much more for. Which is expected and purely smart business sense. And which places a good bit of that promotion on my shoulders (and the contributors' shoulders if they're kind enough). But like I said, that's expected. A lot of writers have to do their own promotion nowadays. I am working with a publicity at the publisher to set up two events -- one in New York City, another in Los Angeles -- but the publisher will not be paying for my travel expenses. And again, that's fine. I think it's important to really get this anthology started off on the right foot. And again, it's expected that I do a large chunk of the work.

After the book has been written, the writer stops being an artist and is forced to become a businessman (or businesswoman, if you prefer). Some writers refuse. They think that all they need to do is just write and the publisher will do the rest. Those writers, my dear friends, are delusional. Back in the day, maybe some of those writers could get away with that, but not today. Not with the way publishing is changing.

As the release date for this anthology approaches and I'm e-mailed every couple weeks by my editor and her assistant about certain issues, I'm beginning to realize I've stepped into a different level of publishing. Before it was all about writing a novel and some stories and trying to place them, and then when they were published saying "Hey, look at this, isn't it cool?" And while I do still work on novels and publish the occasional short story, I'm starting to realize I need to prioritize what it is I write. A flash fiction piece or short story that might get published online or in a literary journal, or concentrate more on a new novel, which, if it sells, will help pay some bills and, hopefully, start a career?

This isn't to say I'm going to stop writing flash fiction and short stories. I hope to still knock a few out every once in a while, but my primary focus should be on career positioning -- looking ahead at a specific goal and doing everything I can to reach it. Suddenly I've become a dual-minded writer: one half artist, one half businessman (which, to be fair, I think I've always had some business sense -- any writer must have that to get anywhere -- but now it's become much more important). And while I of course always want to write what I want to write, I also have to take into consideration the simple questions: who will buy this (my audience), and why?

This post has run much longer than I intended, so if you've stayed with me this far, I thank you. I could probably go on and on, but let's wrap things up, shall we?

So back to advertisements. They're everywhere. We as a society has mostly become immune to them. But sometimes they work. So I ask you: what advertisements do you find most appealing? If you were -- oh I don't know -- an editor of an anthology, just what kind of stuff do you think would get potential buyers' attention?

And Now The Waiting Begins

A big thanks to everyone who helped spread the word and who entered the Hint Fiction Contest. I tallied up the eligible entries and there are just over 350! (In retrospect, last year for the first contest we received a little over 200.)

Last year Gay Degani and I worked very hard to narrow down the top 20 finalists for inclusion in the anthology. This year the process should be a little easier, as I'll simply choose what I feel are the top 10 or 12 stories and send those to James Frey. Once he makes his decision, the winners and finalists will be contacted by e-mail and will announced here (as well as the random winners for copies of Sudden Fiction Latino). This might be next week, it might be a little longer. Keep checking back here periodically, or stay up to date by following Hint Fiction on either Twitter or Facebook. Thanks again!

Hints & Misconceptions

I haven't had a chance yet to count the number of entries so far to the Hint Fiction contest, but there are a lot and more coming every hour as the deadline approaches. Remember, the contest ends this Friday at midnight here on the good ol' east coast, so make sure you get those submissions in! Yesterday Ben White did another great blog post about very very very short stories, which played off my last blog post, which played off Ben's last blog post, which ... well, you know how it goes. Anyway, here's some of what he has to say:

A story implies motion. It’s not just description. Something needs to change.

With regards to the twitter-sized fiction that I read on a daily basis, this means that the reader should be able to at least infer some change taking place, either before, during, or after the actual words of the piece itself. After all, this isn’t a summary or a synopsis. We’re talking about an iceberg here: the tip is showing above the water, but we know the vast majority of all that ice is underneath the surface.

Thankfully Ben and I see eye to eye on these extremely short stories. We've talked many times about their strengths and weaknesses. We've read our fair share of them that it's gotten to the point we can pretty much dissect one at once and decide whether or not it holds promise.

But the thing to remember with stories so short, so much more is left up to the reader's imagination and life experience to fill in the blanks. Say you write a story of 25 words or fewer about Pearl Harbor (why Pearl Harbor, I don't know, it just popped in my head for some reason; stay with me!). And for some reason a reader doesn't know much about Pearl Harbor -- doesn't know anything at all -- and attempts to read the story but just doesn't "get" it. Does that mean the story itself fails when another reader more familiar with Pearl Harbor understands what the story is about and hence "gets" it?

In the anthology, there are a few stories that deal with literary allusions. If a reader isn't familiar with a particular literary allusion, then that story will not have the same effect as it hopefully will on a reader who is in fact familiar.

Back when I was reading for the anthology, a writer submitted a very good story but I ended up passing on it because the story itself dealt too much with a recent current event. It was a story that, in a year or more, would not have the same effect on readers than it would have right there and then.

If Hint Fiction is in fact the tip of an iceberg as Ben says, then the question arises just how much of that tip needs to show. One of the biggest misconceptions of Hint Fiction (besides the fact people think it's easy) is that Hint Fiction is not supposed to make sense. That the stories should leave the reader completely baffled and scratching his or her head.

That's incorrect, of course. I hate always returning to Hemingway's six-word story, but it's the granddaddy of Hint Fiction so I feel compelled to mention it again and again:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Yes, we're not given a complete story here, only a hint, but the hint is enough to paint a pretty solid and effective picture. Mostly because readers are familiar with the idea of stillborn babies (or babies dying young).

The very first Hint Fiction story I ever wrote was a derivative knock off of Hemingway's. I simply changed the words around to "For sale: Trojan condom, never used" which by itself doesn't do much. But then I gave it a title:

AFTER THE PROM

For sale: Trojan condom, never used.

Those six words then took on a whole different meaning and a backstory was formed, all thanks to the addition of a title. Again, a tip of the iceberg is showing (which, in this context, could have a perverted meaning). Not too much, but not too little (again, get your minds out of the gutter!). As Goldilocks would say, "Just right." (I mean it!)

Sometimes writers don't give enough of a hint:

Jim turns on his computer. He stares at the screen, and screams.

Okay, so ... what exactly is happening here? Something, obviously, but there's not enough for a reader to fill in the blanks. Maybe with a helpful title, but even with the best title ever I can't imagine the story will improve much. Like Ben said before, a story implies motion. Yes, Jim is in motion -- turning on his computer, staring at the screen, screaming -- but without the reader knowing why Jim is doing those things, the story lacks substance and, most importantly, emotion.

Murder, Murder Everywhere

As of this moment, just over 140 stories have been submitted to the Hint Fiction contest. And I’m seeing the same trend in stories that I saw for the last contest and for the open reading period: murder and killing. It got so bad that at one point on Friday afternoon I sent Ben White this text:

Am starting to get sick and tired of the same old murder/killing stories.

He responded a few minutes later:

Me too! I reject 9 out of 10 just because … they’re so “meh” at this point. Murder without cause is an event. Not a story.

And I think that sums up perfectly what’s wrong with a good number of stories that have been submitted so far: the murder just happens without reason, and the reader is supposed to, what, care about this somehow? In fact, it’s even gotten to the point that the very best stories about murder and killing don’t impress much anymore.

I’m not alone. Ask editors what one of the biggest trends in stories they see is, and they’re apt to tell you murder and killing and any other form of violent crime. (Which all would make for an interesting study into the psyche of a writer … or maybe that writing about murder/killing is the easiest thing to write about, which says something completely different about our society.)

One of the main reasons I asked James Frey to be the final judge of this contest (besides the fact he’s James effin Frey) is because he’s genre neutral. Writers won’t, in theory, immediately assume that because he writes such-and-such, that’s what they need to submit. So that’s why I didn’t ask an established horror or mystery or science fiction writer to be the final judge. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of those genres — I’m a fan of them all — but oftentimes writers will manipulate their own stories to try to fit a judge’s sensibility instead of simply writing the very best stories they can.

So am I saying you shouldn’t write and submit stories that deal with murder and killing? No. But if you do, be aware that your story must be the greatest story ever written (hyperbole, yes, but you know what I mean). And keep in mind my previous post about story titles and how they’re even more important in Hint Fiction. Here’s an example of a typical murder/killing story:

Close Call

The cop pulls me over for speeding. He lets me off with a warning. Thank God he didn’t see the blood dripping from the trunk.

Okay, so what do we know here? Obviously that the narrator has something in his trunk (I'm assuming, of course, the narrator is a he) that’s dripping blood. It’s probably a body, but it could be a number of things. But let’s say it is a body. So what? Does the reader really care about a dead body in the trunk? Does the reader get any sense of the narrator’s character or motivation? Yes, it’s Hint Fiction, but is it good Hint Fiction?

Now let’s change up the title:

Because She Said No

The cop pulls me over for speeding. He lets me off with a warning. Thank God he didn’t see the blood dripping from the trunk.

The title certainly adds a new layer to the story. But is it necessarily interesting? More so than before, maybe, but still it’s a typical murder/killing story. Nothing too special here. It’s a story that many other writers would probably come up with at some point. And that’s the thing in all fiction, be it novel or story or hint: the goal is to write something that nobody but you would come up with. That’s the idea of being original.

Note the main reason I kept the submission process the same as last year — through the comments section — is a) I think it's more interesting this way and b) writers can see what's been submitted thus far. Just like in American Idol, you have the advantage of seeing your competition. So use it!

Just A Hint Of A Title

Titles are important -- be it a poem or a story or a novel -- but they are even more important in creating effective Hint Fiction. Last year I talked briefly about the importance of titles but Ben White just recently did a blog post where he says it even better:

The angle for a title (for fiction of any size) is usually a summary or some key/noteworthy words. Perhaps a rephrasing. Moby Dick is about, surprise surprise, Moby Dick (more or less). Most, perhaps even the “good” ones, don”t bring anything new to the table. Fine—but when you write a story that is only 140 characters or 25 words or less, that’s actually pretty inexcusable. You worked hard to cram as much story as you can into a sentence or two, and you’re telling me you couldn’t think of anything else to add? That title could’ve been a whole new element, supported a completely different layer of interpretation. It can do something.

With a novel, titles are often placeholders or descriptors (i.e. The Magician, or something else equally mundane and logical). With micro- and flash-fiction, the usual maxim is that every word counts. That’s actually a lie. There’s plenty of relative fluff even in really compelling stuff. Maybe it counts, but it’s not necessary. But if a title makes up 10-30% of the total word count, it’d better be necessary.

My rule of thumb for a nano title: if the story reads the same way with or without the title, then the title isn’t carrying its weight.

Ben and I actually talked about this last week, and he brought up a good point about the difference between nano fiction (or Twitter fiction) and hint fiction. For the stories Ben edits, writers are restricted to the 140 character limit. There is no room for a title. A story has to stand on its own with just the body of the story itself. Oftentimes, Ben told me, a story might be somewhat good but could be improved upon greatly by just the right title. By adding the right title a writer adds a new layer to the narrative (note, it is possible to make the story worse by adding the wrong title, which should be obvious but which I feel I should mention anyway). A reader will oftentimes glance at the title before reading the story, not really understanding the title's significance until they finish the story and look at the title again and then something clicks.

Ben gives an example of one of his own stories in his post (which you should read, of course), so I might as well give an example of one of my stories published recently. Except I'm going to show you the story first without its title.

She saw his picture in the paper and remembered waiting on him two days before: the lighter fluid, her quip about barbequing, his vacuous gaze.

If you're not familiar with this story, you're probably thinking Hmm, okaaaay ... Truthfully, the story doesn't work on its own. In fact, I'm positive Ben would reject it for Nanoism (for reason other than the fact it's actually 143 characters). There's an element that's missing. That element, of course, is a title. Now here's the story with the title included:

10 Items or Less

She saw his picture in the paper and remembered waiting on him two days before: the lighter fluid, her quip about barbequing, his vacuous gaze.

Now that that extra element has been add, the story becomes much more effective (at least I like to think so, though I am sort of biased). That's why a title is very important in Hint Fiction -- it gives the writer a chance to add another layer to the story, sort of cheating the 25 word limit.

Does your Hint Fiction story need to have a title? Not always -- the Hemingway piece certainly didn't -- but it definitely won't hurt.