Really? Oh, Texas must be a country then cause it works in Oregon, although Jason is over the other way, somewhere. Weird I'd say
I think it is. If we don't know our audience, how can we write something that will engage them? If I'm only writing for my own satisfaction, that's not a problem, but if I want to touch my readers in some way, I need to know who they are. I need to be aware of who is observing and what creates an emotional response in them.
I write YA and am channelling my inner brat. )
I've been published in romance for five years now and I can say without any doubt that trying to second guess what readers want is next to impossible. When I've tried to do that and written accordingly, the stories have fallen flat on their faces. It's only when I listen to my muse and my characters that I end up with best sellers. I think "know your audience" is more of a catch-all term, meaning understand the kinds of things reader of your chosen genre expect to see/want to see in a book. Those might change over time, so it also encompasses keeping up with the reader expectations and trends within the genre. Then again, I've also heard people say to write the book you want to read, so that's what I try to do at the core of every story.
I think "know your audience" is more of a catch-all term, meaning understand the kinds of things reader of your chosen genre expect to see/want to see in a book. Those might change over time, so it also encompasses keeping up with the reader expectations and trends within the genre. Then again, I've also heard people say to write the book you want to read, so that's what I try to do at the core of every story.
Also, by the time you've picked a trend, done your research, written the book, edited it, found an agent, found an editor, gotten it edited further, found a publisher, done the cover design, and published it, the trend is already passed! Even for self-pub books, that's after you've picked a trend, done your research, written the book, edited it, found an editor, gotten it edited further, done the cover design, and published it. That's *at least* two years.
Because existence is predicated upon observation — if a tree falls in the woods and no one's around to hear it, it both made noise and did not make noise, because it at once has both fallen and not fallen, until it is observed upon the ground, and its possibility curve collapses to zero and it remains in a fallen state.Simple answer: it's weird like that.
One thing I've learnt from studying quantum physics is if it sounds logical, it's probably not right.
Wait, what? Oh — no, it was a kind of metallic, cerulean-blue Honda, maybe a couple years old, with beige interiors, and kind of a puffy-faced post-dudebro in a button shirt driving. I remember it all perfectly, because I looked dead at him as he went by.And was a white-haired man, or a teen boy with an 80's haircut driving it?
But he made sure you looked at him...
Who knows. It's one of those things where you wish you could just know what actually happened — whether your saw wrong, or who knows what else.
You're gonna hate me. I'm gonna be the party-pooper to this amazing tale of wonder and mystery. I'm sorry for that. But.. the following is true: the same thing happened to me - not exact same thing, no cerulean-blue Honda, just a black Ford Focus, and no cool backstory about stick gears and helping friends called Jeff move out of his studio.
Well now I'm jealous. I've never seen anything disappear. But I have seen ghosts. Does that count?
Oh gosh.
I was driving home at night from my parents, kids sleeping in the back. I live in London. It's surprisingly quiet and calm on the roads. A black Ford Focus overtakes me and I think "whoa, black car at night, lucky I'm paying attention, kind of". The driver stops at the crossroads (what you call intersection) infront of me and I stare at his red rear lights. Then he's gone *puff* and I'm the only one at the empty crossroads. I roll my car forward to where his car was a few seconds ago, just to make sure he's not invisible.
"Wha..? How did that happen?!" I ask excitedly to my sleeping children. They don't even stir. "That was so weird!" I continue to no-one in particular. "What a strange thing to happen! I gotta tell someone about this!" Then I promptly forget until now. You reminded me. Thanks.
The thing is I can actually imagine you looking perplexed. For those who don't know - I've known sea-shore since we were 11 years old so this account of hers is none too surprising to me.
