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Posted by Derek Armstrong Nov 11, 2006 |
Blake, in his wonderful (and funny) book Save the Cat!, quotes a Hollywood studio executive as blurting out, "Give me the same thing...only different!"
Great literature has always been somewhat derivative. Or a lot derivative. But ultimately, a writer makes a book or story or novel his or her own. The great ones do it while avoiding cliché. But, if you don't do "the same" in some respect, you probably have no market, no readers. We all appreciate archetypes and "the sameness" because we identify with traits and qualities. Yet we crave something new.
When you sit with authors in brainstorming groups as I do—as a publisher—or think about your own work—as an author—or even just sit down to read a good book, inevitably it comes down to the "author explaining how the story works." The mechanics of any explanation inevitably becomes "It's like X, except..." There are no new stories, as the saying goes.
In fact, when pitching a book—as agent, author, publisher—it starts with "What's it most like?" The logline, the pitch, starts with this.
Then, the twist. "Only different." A "pitch" or logline is not complete without the "only different" element.
"What's it most like" tells us why we should enjoy it. "Only different" tells us we're going to experience it in a new way. So, The Last Templar, for example, is often considered derivative of DaVinci Code, a trifle unfair. Booklist reviewed Raymond Khoury's novel with, "Now, a new thriller tries to follow in the steps of The Da Vinci Code." But there is an "only different" element as well, enough so that the book sold many copies.
I don't want to self-plug here. This is meant as an "example." Booklist, the same prestigious reviewers who wrote the noted review of The Last Templar, recently wrote up my novel The Game. At first I felt a little "disappointed." Then, I felt a thrill. Reviewer David Pitt was right on: "But, for all of that, the novel somehow manages to avoid feeling derivative. Armstrong’s abundant enthusiasm for his material, combined with the semi-satirical plotline, compel us to keep reading, and his prose style keeps us chuckling. The sleuth who disdains the world in which he finds himself is an idea as old as Raymond Chandler, but Armstrong injects the trope with new vigor. This is a series to watch from a new publisher to watch."
New and derivative in the same review? Everything is derivative. Tolkien admitted strong influences from Beowulf, even though he went on to create a new genre. Stephen King's newish novel Cell is "in honor of Romero's zombie movies," he freely admits. We all do it. The key is ... "only different."
Here's my challenge. Think of your current "favorite" book. In what ways is it "the same" as other books that came before it. But, more importantly, in what way is it "different."
Author, The Game