Genre Changing (Plus Ca Change)

Genre is a funny
thing. Authors hate it; publishers love it. No one wants to be
pigeonholed as just another brit-lit, urban noir or body horror
writer, but at the same time, a truly original book is almost
impossible to sell. It’s easier to tell everybody it’s a cross
between Harry Potter and the Jungle Book than it is to say ‘well, its
a psychological study of how people interact with other people that
somehow transcends genre’. That’s a bit like describing the Rolling
Stones as producing ‘the kind of music where notes are played, often
on instruments, in some kind of predefined order’. It’s accurate, but
if I’m trying to decide between this and Daft Punk at the over 70s
disco, it may lead to a kerfuffle. Possibly even a rumpus.

The point is that
categories, despite their flaws, are necessary. Fair enough, lumping
Terry Pratchett, Piers Anthony and Robert Asprin into the same
‘comedy fantasy’ category lacks a certain finesse. You might as well
define your favourite foods as ‘the one’s that are green’. At least
we have a vague idea where we’re starting from, though. We’re not
expecting to find Shaun Hutson and Stephenie Meyer in the same
section, despite their surface similarities, and I think it’s
reasonably sensible to lump books into the broad categories of crime,
romance, horror or sci-fi.

The problem comes
when publishers decide that being in a genre is what sells books.
Certainly, reaching the top of the charts for a niche genre is much
more achievable than being a best selling contemporary fiction book.
As a result, it seems they’ve entered into a friendly competition to
see who can come up with the most ludicrously unlikely genre title
and still have it taken seriously. The latest contender is grip-lit.
This, it appears, refers to literature which is gripping. As to
opposed to the deathly dull books that we normally prefer to read.
I’m glad we finally have a name for it.

But no, apparently
this genre is more specific than just being a book that makes you
want to read it. Apparently, this rhyming couplet of a genre refers
to psychological thrillers. The more astute of you may suspect we
already have a name for that. But, apparently ‘pyschological
thriller’ is out, ‘grip-lit’ is in. Thank goodness – the publishing
industry in saved.

This has been going
on for a while now. When the likes of Lisa Jewell and Helen Fielding
hit the scene, we got chick-lit. Then Nick Hornby came along and we
got lad-lit. For a while, tales of widower fathers struggling to find
love while raising a child came along and we had dad-lit. It looked
like we were on a journey to find a genre that precisely described
one book, and would lead to very sparsely populated library shelves.

Fortunately,
grip-lit has set us back on the course to find a term so generic it
can be used in any marketing material with minimal impact on meaning.

And has this changed
the way we read books. Absolutely not. Call them what you like, we
still like to read what our mate recommended down the pub, or what’s
at the top of Richard and Judy’s book club list.

But if we are going
to carry on defining genres, can I suggest one for books by blokes
called Richard who tend to write on the train, have two children and
live in Essex.

I bet I could top
that list.