New Adult

I was having this very lively discussion about the category (which refers to demographic, as opposed to genre, which refers to content) of "New Adult."

New Adult is supposedly (more on why that qualifier in a sec) a category that would cater to the 19 - 30 category (ish). So filling a gap between the experiences of the mostly high school characters of YA and the largely 30+ protags of "Adult" fiction. Sort of like the Chick Lit of the 90s did--these books would be about "finding one's way" or whatever. But with some other stuff thrown in with the stilettos.

That's not to say that there isn't or wouldn't be a lot of crossover between all of those categories, or that 19 - 30 year old people aren't "adults." It's just an acknowledgement that most people in those age groups have different concerns and life stuff than most 30+. That's what I think, at least.

Now, for that "supposedly," above. New Adult didn't exist as a term until about 5 years ago, when someone in the Biz literally made it up. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Every other category had to be made up at some point. But this is a new one, and it's had a hard time getting any traction.

Why?

Well, the biggest reason is that the categories used by agents and editors to describe something correspond directly to the categories in bookstores and libraries (yes, those are standardized!). This is because the hundreds of bookstores and libraries across the country (and digital retailers, too) order books based on codes called BISACs. They look like this:

FIC009050

FICTION / Fantasy / Paranormal

or

FIC043000

FICTION / Coming of Age

There are a lot of those. But there can't be too many, because if every subgenre and every potential age group delineation was coded, the codes would stop being useful. If everything got its own unique code...well, that's called an ISBN. And it's unique to each title. And there are millions of individual titles published each year. The whole point of grouping them is to make that number more manageable.

Adding a new category means that this entire system has to change--from how the bookstores arrange their shelves to how the publisher registers copyright. That, my friends, is not simple.

So the term "New Adult" hasn't really captured the hearts and minds of agents and editors because it doesn't exist in the Real World. Definitely the wholesalers and retailers don't use it. Readers don't know what it is, for the most part. Many view it as a cumbersome addition, fraught with the implication that 20-somethings "can't" read adult fiction for some reason (there's a reason Chick Lit is dead--it was boring and condescending after a while. Not all 20-something ladies are Carrie Bradshaw).

So, for now at least, calling a submission "New Adult" to an editor would be like calling it...Elephant In The Corner Fiction (it's, like, suspenseful, but for people who don't like surprises!). It means something, but it doesn't mean anything, really. It can't be sold in to retailers as what you're calling it. And that is a no-no!

All valid points, although I tend to think New Adult could be a real thing...BUT not without a huge shift in a huge system. It might seem like an update in a computer system, but it actually affects every link of the chain.

Questions? Comments?

#FridayWrites

Soho Teen is now running the #FridayWrites hashtag, an unofficial counterpart to the awesome #FridayReads. Every Friday, we'll post a visual, auditory, or written writing prompt for you!

Here's this week's!!

If you haven't already...

OK, so there's only one thing that could make me take a hiatus from le blog, which I le love. And that's something 1. I'm really, really excited about and 2. I've been working HARD on!

That something is Soho Teen, a brand new young adult imprint coming January 2013 from Soho Press. Find out more about Soho Teen here and go like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter!

It would make me so glad. If you like and follow us, email me at mbarnes {at} sohopress.com (yes, you just got my real life work email) and I'll send you a surprise. :)

What Workers Are Really For

Yesterday, I was reading "What Work Is Really For," in my beloved New York Times. I love articles on this topic, and there have been a few lately. They always seem to say something along the lines of "We should work less!" or at least that we should feel less guilty about not working.

Or something like that.

This one takes the "Work is a means to an end, there to give you time to smell the roses" conceit somewhere else though. The premise of "What Work Is Really For" is that we are controlled by the market, as opposed to the other way around (which Capitalims would have us believe). So it is hard for us to tell what would be life-improving for us; we just buy crap because it's there and we can (Snuggie!).

The author concludes by turning his attention to Education, which he says must "aim to produce self-determining agents who can see through the blandishments of the market and insist that the market provide what they themselves have decided they need to lead fulfilling lives."

This assumes that consumers would buy only what they "need to lead fulfilling lives." But whose life are we fulfilling? You might be fulfilled by the purchase of a Snuggie, while I would choose, say, chocolate. Improvement in subjective in all (debatable?) cases.

This is interesting in light of the recent discussion of genre vs Lit-rature. To be sure, there is a "market" for books. And many, many good-ish things don't get published because the market says they shouldn't (with editors and agents being the interpreters of the market which, swallow the bile! they are qualified to do).

But isn't it great that such a wide breadth of fiction gets published? it's not perfect, but the mix of what's available is astonishing. With the rise of indies and self-publishing, that mix only stands to get richer and more complex.

Who says there's any standard (or teachable) way to "lead a fulfilling life," no matter what good or service we're talking about (ChatRoulette!). I say put it out there and let the market decide (you just might not have a publicist).

Write and WIN $1,000, a critique, and more!

Soho Teen is getting so close to launch I can TASTE it (and, to tell you the truth, it's not all donuts and honey--but after all this is a mystery and thriller imprint and well...sometimes that don't taste good. But I digress).

To celebrate Soho Teen as well as our many great friends, we've launched a contest with Figment (a great writer/reader community, if you don't know!) linked to our February 2013 title, WHO DONE IT, an anthology featuring John Green, David Levithan, Libba Bray, Maureen Johnson...everyone! And edited by the wonderful Jon Scieszka (author of The Stinky Cheese Man!).

In the anthology, authors are suspected of killing the odious editor Herman Mildew and they must provide (hilarious) alibis absolving themselves to our editor/investigator Mr. Scieszka. To enter the contest, you have to do the same!

Here are the deets:

In 500 to 1,000 words, following the guidelines on Figment's site, write your alibi in Herman Mildew’s murder. You must be between 13 and 18 years old to enter.

And HERE are the amazing prizes!

• $1,000
• A one-page editorial letter from literary agent Suzie Townsend (New Leaf Literary Agency) who will read up to 8,000 words of your original work. Any form of writing will be accepted: short stories, excerpt from a novel, poems, essays, etc. Both published and unpublished work will be accepted for review.
• An invitation for the winner and a parent or guardian to the SohoTeen launch party in New York City on November 29, 2012, where the winner will get a personal half-hour chat with Jon Scieszka. (If the winner cannot attend, he or she will win a half-hour phone conversation with Jon.)
• Eight runners-up will each receive a copy of Who Done It?.

Enjoy!

What IS This Captcha Thing??

This evening, brilliant author of FALSE MEMORY Dan Krokos cried out into the Twitterverse "WHY ME, CAPTCHA???" And I couldn't agree more. Captchas are the most frustrating thing, and they always pop up when you're doing something really important and time sensitive, which makes them even more annoying. I've abandoned transactions over Captchas. For SHOES!!

I thought no one could ever tell me a redeeming thing about Captchas. But I was wrong. The Amazing Emma Trevayne, author of the fantastic book CODA (coming Spring 2013, and it's sequel, CHORUS, just announced!), just told me that Captchas are actually real words from hard-to-read, faded, out-of-print texts. So, when you type them in, you're digitizing some old copy of the New York Times!

I quote Emma here: "over something like 3 months, internet users digitized something like 20 years worth of NYT back issues or something" Whoa!!

This is real:
Real on SmartPlanet.com
Real on Cracked

July Soho Press Book Club Pick: THE DETOUR

Why, why does it always come back to Hitler? 

And it's not just me asking. I've read a lot of WWII novels. Doubtless you have, too. Over on the Soho Blog, we're discussing WWII novel THE DETOUR--which is like no other WWII novel you've ever read.

Head over, comment, and be entered to win 10 copies of THE DETOUR for your book club!

Here's a synopsis of the book. Read an excerpt here!

A variously failed 24-year-old, Ernst is hired to work as a part of the Third Reich’s Sonderprojekt, carrying out the Führer’s dream to collect Europe’s great art in Berlin. At first this seems like a dream come true to laconic, apolitical Ernst, who just wants to catalog art with his mentor, his closest confidant after a horrible incident alienates Ernst from his father. But then his mentor disappears. 


Immediately thereafter, Ernst is sent on his first major assignment: go to Rome and collect the Classical marble masterpiece The Discus Thrower and return it to the German border. It should be a straightforward assignment, but something isn’t right about Ernst’s German counterpart in Rome. Many things are not right about the Italian brothers charged with getting Ernst and the statue to the border. One lovesick, both quarreling, the brothers embark on a dangerous detour, taking Ernst and his invaluable cargo along for the bumpy ride. Is it simply a case of trivial personal agendas interfering with the Reich’s will, of small compromises? Or is something more sinister going on?