Famous or Flameless

In my opinion, great writers are few and far between in the published world.

While I’m sure the 95%+ that get filtered out by agents and editors mostly deserve obscurity (myself included for the moment), I don’t think great writing is among their top criteria. I’ve read several famous and bestselling authors like Clive Cussler and some other equally popular thriller writers who should have remained with me in the bottom of the slush pile.

Tom Clancy’s most recent book, Dead or Alive, is a good example. Admittedly, it was ghostwritten by Grant Blackwood, but that doesn’t excuse the bad writing. Clancy has always been known for his technical detail, but in this one, many of the details are plainly wrong. He makes reference to a tritium laser sight. Tritium is a radioactive isotope used for low light applications like radium was once used on watch dials. Tritium I used for sight applications, but not with lasers. Laser sights typically use LEDs, which have nothing to do with radioactivity. Maybe he meant Trijicon, the company that produces those military sights, but no one corrected the error.

Another error he repeats frequently (I see this elsewhere, too) is substituting “site” for “sight” when referring to firearm aiming. Wrong! At least they don’t call semi-automatic handguns “revolvers” like so many authors do.

Many of the things they do in the book appear to be shameless attempts to fill up pages. Of course, no one else ever did that. I find mindless repetition of acronym definitions particularly irritating. After you’ve told me once, you can assume I’ll remember for at least a few pages.

Another problem I have is that the book churns up what seems like a hundred pages reminiscing about Clancy’s previous books and the characters’ stale adventures. I can understand a certain amount of this for scene-setting, but after a while, it gets old.

For those of us still at the bottom, the question is, “What does it take to get noticed?”

The last time I submitted material to an editor (lost in the mists of time), he told me I needed to be more edgy.

What does “edgy” mean? Does that mean more gross language? Does that mean more gruesome murder victims? Does that mean short, clipped anti-Faulknerian sentence fragments? Does it mean more dark atmospherics? I thought noir was moribund (I also thought there was a t in that word).

My wife, Linda, says my writing has improved. For one thing, I’ve lost that gawking earnestness that inhabits the pages of most cozies, but is that enough? I don’t know.

I thought it was a breakthrough when I was accepted by my eBook publisher, but it appears all I got from the bargain was somebody else taking a cut from my pitiful Amazon earnings. What is fifty percent of nothing, anyway?

While I savor the work of those good writers that populate my reading list, I have yet to discern exactly what separates those who make it to the big time from those who don’t. With some writers, it’s obvious. Janet Evanovich leaves me rolling on the floor. Nevada Barr’s books are beautifully set and written. Patricia Cornwell has always been the master of her characters’ emotions. All of them write good stories. But among the rest, what was it that got them to the top of the pile? Did they go to New York and pester people until someone agreed to get them off their back? Some authors claim it was sheer persistence.

That I can believe.

One must be obsessive-compulsive just to write a book. It is not unreasonable to see that an OCD person would keep gnawing at the book world until someone noticed. But is that a good test to separate the wheat from the chaff? I don’t think so.

There has to be something more.