If a novel is a narrative striptease;
And each scene of a novel is essential to the plot;
Then each scene must reveal a delectable detail of the story.
Don’t Be A Pigeon
Life moves fast. If a person is driving sixty miles an hour and sees something out of the corner of his eye, he must decide right now if he should react or stay his course. While walking down a street at night, a woman must decide if the man walking toward her is friend or foe. With television, computer, and cell phone images flashing before our eyes, then changing again and again every few seconds, humans must make nearly instantaneous judgements and decisions every single day. These are important traits, like the fight or flight instinct bred into us thousands of years ago.
Today, that instinct will more likely be used to size up a potential mate we spot on the subway than to watch for a snake in the grass. (Yes, the jokes abound, but let’s try to keep our focus here, shall we?)
According to Linda Blair, clinical psychologist and author of Straight Talking, it takes only seven seconds for us to judge another person when we first meet them. And after that, according to me, people tend to lump others into categories just as quickly. “She’s an artsy-fartsy type.” or “He’s a suit.” The labels go on and on: hipster; geek; gay; Republican; soccer mom … But who among us is one dimensional?
I once knew a man who loved his wife as long as she behaved the way he wanted her to. Her actions were supposed to stay inside the Pigeon Hole he had labeled: WIFE. She eventually flew the coop. And, not being a homing pigeon, she never went back. Other people use the same labeling system. They have a wall full of boxes labeled SON, DAUGHTER, FRIEND, BROTHER, EMPLOYEE … “If you fit inside this box, you can be my son/daughter/friend/brother/employee.”
But that’s not love. True love cannot be crammed inside a box. If you love someone, you need to allow—even encourage—them to grow from the caterpillar you meet to the butterfly they are destined to become. It doesn’t matter how old that person is, no one should remain stagnant. Imagine if you hadn’t changed your beliefs one iota from the day you turned 21. Same hairstyle, same career, same political and religious beliefs. HELP! How horrible would that be? Love allows people to grow and change. Even politicians must change, and fortunately, many of them have. It’s the ones who haven’t ever varied on any decision who scare me the most. (cough, John McCain)
Tying this back to literature and the world of writing, I know that publishers like an author to limit themselves to one category. They must protect their advertising budgets and bottom line. But even that industry seems to be changing, if slowly. J.K. Rowling and John Grisham come instantly to mind. This, too, is a good thing, I believe.
But back to real life.
I have spoken to three people in the past week who’ve been frustrated by others’ expectations and judgements. I said to my friends, “Relax. Be true to yourself. You cannot live your life to keep other people happy. If your friends and family don’t love you for who you are, they’ll have to learn how to deal with it.” And usually, they will. Or sometimes, people move on. Even familial relationships change over time. In a world where we’re encouraged to “think outside the box” and “color outside the lines,” how can people stay so rigid so as not to allow others to be true to themselves? I think the answer is based in FEAR, fear of change. I get that, really I do, but from my experience, that fear usually becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
So, since I’m not a psychologist and I can’t charge you for this wisdom, I think I’ll just print up some t-shirts. On the front they will say: I’M NOT A PIGEON. On the back they will say: AND NEITHER ARE YOU.
What do you say? Would you buy one of my t-shirts?
The Book Doctors
Attention: All writers
From: Me
Subject: If you want to get published, read this
When I am published it will be with great thanks to David Henry Sterry and Arielle Eckstut, a husband and wife team who seem genuinely interested in being helpful. They are The Book Doctors, experts in the field of publishing.
Finding an agent is a horrible task. I’m not whining; ask anybody. It took me approximately 15 months to write A REASONABLE PRICE. That was a breeze compared to the effort I’ve spent querying the novel. Mind you, the dozen or so people who’ve read my novel have “loved” it. I’ve been told, “I was late for a doctor’s appointment because I couldn’t put it down.” “I woke up in the night wondering what secrets Dana was protecting.” “It was riveting!” “It is an incredible novel.” The ending is “brilliant.”
Shall I keep going?
But apparently I’m terrible at “selling” my own work. Selling was so much easier when I was an art dealer and I could pitch my artists’ work!
Fortunately, I found The Book Doctors.
Eckstut and Sterry wrote a book in 2005 called PUTTING YOUR PASSION INTO PRINT. In 2010, I read it, dog-eared it, highlighted it, and queried the novel I was working on at the time. (I’ve always thought of myself as a quick learner, but … ) This February, I saw that Eckstut and Sterry had updated their book (now called THE ESSENTIAL GUIDE TO GETTING YOUR BOOK PUBLISHED), and they were doing a webinar through Writers’ Digest, so I signed up and bought the updated copy of their book.
After years of studying the “art” of query letters, I learned more from their webinar in ninety minutes than I ever did reading about it. Their advice was straight-forward and logical, and the webinar was quite entertaining.
Recently, I had a one-on-one consultation with David Henry Sterry. David walked me through my pitch and told me what most insiders won’t say. He is a smart and funny guy, and he has given me loads of new-found confidence.
I’ve been sending out my revised query letter for a couple weeks now, and have gotten some strong interest. Woot, woot! Time will tell, I suppose. Let’s just say I have a really good feeling about the new pitch. Thank you, David and Arielle.
If you are a writer who wants to be published, or you know someone who is, check out The Book Doctors. You’ll be glad you did.
Fiction Writers Unite: Jane Friedman For President
In these times of turmoil, when the definitions of words such as “marriage,” “employed,” and “publishing” are all in flux, we fiction writers must unite and find a leader.
I nominate Jane Friedman.
For the past several years, I have called myself a writer. Truth be known, I am a “retired” art dealer who picked up a laptop and tapped out a novel, then a second, a third, and now a fourth novel. I wasn’t an English major. I don’t have an MFA. I guess you could say I’m trying to sneak in the back door of publishing—and I’m holding out for a traditional publisher. But, I have read a mountain of books on WRITING. I have read a mountain of GOOD LITERATURE (and some not so good). I have attended a WRITERS’ CONFERENCE in the mountains. And I have read blog post after blog post after blog post on query letters, blogging, publishing, networking, grammar … You name it, I’ve tried to absorb it. I am that determined to teach myself the art of good writing.
Then, about a year ago, I had a long conversation with my son, Elliott, about sifting through all the contradictory advice that’s out there. (Did I mention he is getting his MFA at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop?) He suggested that I stop reading everything I can get my hands on, and narrow myself to two or three trusted sources. Huh. Not bad advice.
The name Jane Friedman popped to the top of my list.
Jane Friedman is the straight-talking, walking-Wikipedia of publishing. I trust what she says above just about anyone else in the industry.
[For the record, I am crossing my fingers that Ms. Friedman—if she reads this—considers me a fan, not some creepy stalker. I did meet her once, at a Writers’ Digest Conference, but she wouldn’t remember me. I tried to make some ice-breaking joke about Bourbon (which she loves, and I know absolutely nothing), so she probably thought I was a little odd, but really I was just nervous about making a good impression. Yeah, no.]
My current campaign was inspired by one of her latest blog posts on Writer Unboxed, another helpful writing source. Friedman writes, and I happily quote: “If you’re a totally new, unpublished writer who is focused on fiction, memoir, poetry, or any type of narrative-driven work, forget you ever heard the word platform.” Yes, that’s right. She tells writers who are working to publish their first book of fiction to STOP BLOGGING. I might be inclined to say she buried her lead by sticking this gem in the center of a long post, but the article is chock full of great advice.
(Stop blogging? Okay, logically, I would end this post here, but because I call myself a writer, I have the uncontrollable urge to type out another 200 or so words.)
After I finished my first novel, I followed the rules and sent out beaucoup query letters. I got one request for a partial, but now I am grateful that it didn’t get published. It was crap. I did learn, however, that I had “no platform.” Any agent who tried to look me up would have seen a lot of dead links to my former art gallery, but nothing about me as a writer. So I started a blog. Then I wrote my second novel, and joined Twitter and Goodreads. I had one request for my complete manuscript, but no offer. Next, I wrote my third novel, and started a Facebook Author Page. Still—not quite there. I now have hundreds of blog posts, 676 Twitter followers, 379 Goodreads friends. A modest but decent platform. My numbers are not staggering, because I always felt lost when it came to blogging.
As a non-published fiction writer, what the heck was I supposed to blog about? My fictional characters? My struggle to get published?
No.
The blogging experts say, Keep a tight focus. They say, Offer advice. They say, Blog three times a week. They say, Above all, don’t whine!
I suppose a lot of great coaches never made it as superstars of their chosen sport, but still, I felt a bit like a fraud offering advice as an unpublished fiction writer. Yes, I know a good book when I see one, but wouldn’t most of us rather take advice from someone who has succeeded? Exactly.
More importantly, as Ms. Friedman says, imagine how much more I could have accomplished if I had spent all those blogging hours writing. I might be published by now!
And so, dear followers, I will keep blogging—sporadically, as always (I’ve never been good at that three times a week rule)—but from now on I will NOT feel guilty about NOT blogging! I am getting closer and closer to my dream of being a published author. (The details are a secret; you’ll just have to trust me on this.) (Okay, I can give you this hint.) Until then, I will dedicate my time to writing unputdownable stories.
Meanwhile, Jane Friedman for President of the United Fiction Writers!
What’s a _____ Writer To Do?
Fill in the Blank: a) Determined, b) Frustrated, c) Naïve, d) Insane, e) All of the Above
In October, I finished my fourth novel, A Reasonable Price. It went to “beta readers” and experts for feedback. Each reader “loved” the story, and each of them had a few suggestions. So I edited the manuscript, then queried a handful of literary agents. While I waited, I edited more. Then I queried more. I celebrated Christmas. Then I edited more, and I queried more …. You get the picture. Still no agent offered to represent me.
Recently, I did a query letter webinar (through Writers’ Digest and The Book Doctors, two fantastic sources), and I hired a professional editor (also through Writers’ Digest) for my current novel. She made a few corrections, so I rewrote my query letter and queried more agents.
Bingo! One (brilliant) agent asked to read my manuscript. Hip hip hooray!
But still I wait.
After each of my previous novels, I immediately began my next novel. Contrary to what I hear from other people, I love the process of writing. Most writers say they hate to write, but they do it because they want to have written a book. In retrospect, I now consider my first three novels to be varying levels of embarrassment, although I can’t help but think they are salvageable if I ever choose to “fix” them. If I had stuck with any of them, I might have been able to make them work, but I have learned so much along the way that I always knew I could do better. I’ve kept going because I love the creative process.
But this one—A Reasonable Price—this will be my “debut” novel because I will stick with it until I find the right agent and the right editor and it is “traditionally” published. In fact, this past week, a Ph.D. professor of English from Ole Miss read my novel and called it “a masterwork!” with an “epic villain” and a “genuine hero” who “we root for” all the way to the end. The novel has “tension” and “conflict” throughout. His praise was so high it brought (happy) tears to my eyes, but I’ll stop there. One day, I hope, you will be able to judge my novel for yourself.
Meanwhile, I am chomping at the bit to begin my next novel. I’m dreaming up characters, both good and bad; I’m plotting and scheming and calculating their motivations and obstacles; I’m writing down key scenes and dialogue exchanges. But every time I grab my notepad to jot something down, I think to myself: No, don’t move on. Stick with this one! Send out more query letters!
And so, I do. And I remind myself that Kathryn Stockett sent out sixty-one query letters before the very wise agent Susan Ramer said “Yes!” to The Help. Sixty-one.
Sixty-one. Sixty-one. Sixty one.
Okay, I feel better now. This a) Determined writer will keep on keeping on. And may the force be with you, too.
Overcoming Obstacles
One of the best ways to learn a new language is by plopping yourself into a foreign land where you have no choice but to figure out how to ask for food, bathrooms, and shelter. (If you think you’re going to use Rosetta Stone, be prepared for a thousand hours at your computer–or failure).
I’m using that same logic to learn how to write in “less than ideal” conditions.
At home I have a writing nook, a small room that’s all mine. My room, mind you, doesn’t have a door, but my hubby and I are empty-nesters, and our home is generally pretty quiet. (Word to the wise: If your partner is a TV-lover like mine, buy him/her wireless TV headphones. Best $50 bucks I’ve ever spent!) Point being, of course, is that I have the ideal writing conditions; it’s quiet, focused, and organized.
The correlation is that I have a mental block about reaching my MDWR (minimum daily writing requirement) if my space and time frame isn’t ideal. I generally won’t even try to write unless I can isolate myself from noise and distractions.
Additionally, I have ADHD. I used to be ashamed to admit this, but I now hope to help others learn from my experiences, help them master this disorder and improve their lives as I have. This is an extra barrier to getting into my “flow” in order to be creative.
So… when my husband and I decided to take a road trip from Iowa to California, I knew I had to think this through before I pulled my swimsuit out of my dresser.
Writing for me isn’t optional. Writing for me is like running for, well, runners. If I don’t write (or work on my writing career in some fashion) everyday, I get quite cranky. Something about writing keeps me grounded and sane. I have an intense passion to be published, and I knew taking a road trip wasn’t going to get me a book deal unless I found away to write under less than ideal conditions like (gasp!) country music on the radio. (If I wasn’t going to chat with my husband, the least I could do was let him pick the radio station.)
Now, I have heard that there are people who can write well amidst chaos (though I have yet to meet one, so it could be an urban myth). And I could site a thousand examples of others who’ve overcome worse hardships than the Dolly Parton Torture Test. But I figured if others could do it, so could I.
I made a vow to break my dependence on Ideal Conditions.
A recent study (sorry, I can’t remember who or where), said that our world has become so crazy with TV and the Internet that human attention spans have diminished over the past few decades. Plus, as the mother of four boys, I once had to train myself to pay attention to every noise, not block them out. But if the above is true, then a determined woman should be able to train herself to improve her concentration, right? It’s mind over matter, and you all know by now that I am a very persistent when it comes to achieving goals.
As I write this, it’s only Day 4 of our trip, so it’s too early to say how successful I will feel by the time we arrive at our destination in California. I have gotten a little writing done so far—including this blog post—but I realized that my husband and I chose to drive in order to see the country and visit family, so gluing my nose to my laptop was defeating the purpose of our trip. Western Oklahoma, however, did prove to be a fair time to take my regular dose of Adderall and practice blocking out distracting noises.
Above all, though, there is one thing that works for me every time: When my mind starts to wander, I picture my book propped up on the front table of a Barnes & Noble and tap out another decent sentence.
Now, please, if you have suggestions that can help me, I would really like to know: What works for you?
Found In Translation
Art = Literature = Music = Performance = Who knew? = Duh
All art is the same; all art is different; otherwise, it’s worthless.
This past week, I went to New York City with Larassa Kabel. If you lovely readers have been following along, you might remember that I used to be an art dealer. Larassa was one of the amazingly talented artists whom I represented, and she and I have remained friends even without the gallery connection. I have referred to her as my John Galt; I have mentioned her many times, most recently as the artist who created the 2012 White House Christmas card. Larassa needed to go to NYC for a portfolio review of her work, and I jumped at the opportunity to go with her. Like a trip in a time machine, I was transported back into the art world which I adored then, and still adore now.
The only change is that now I am bilingual. I speak ART and LITERATURE. And, I suppose, I have rudimentary knowledge of MUSIC/PERFORMANCE ART via my oldest son whom we saw perform while we were there. Each branch of the fine arts has the same ladder to the top, but in its own language.
As my friend and I attacked Chelsea, SoHo, the Lower East Side, and Brooklyn, she drank in the flavor-du-jour from fellow artists, dealers, and art critics in an attempt to assess her options and her competition. She wants a New York gallery as badly as I want a Big-Six publisher. And much to my surprise, I got as much out of the trip in relation to my writing as she did for her drawings and paintings. It’s the exact same scene, but with subtitles.
I’ve recently completed A Reasonable Price, technically my fourth novel, although if when it gets published, it will be known as my debut novel. That’s okay with me; think about the thousands of pages that any given writer wrote before s/he became “famous.” If they didn’t write (then burn) all that early crap, their debut novels would read like Twilight. (I make no apologies for that statement.)(I don’t care how rich she is.) I am currently looking for a literary agent just like Larassa is looking for an art dealer. I have often equated the two professions, which is one reason Rejection Letters don’t bother me—well, let’s say they don’t dissuade me. I’ve been on the other side of this equation.
For example, every artist being shown in New York has beaucoup talent. That’s a given. Correspondingly, every writer being published by a traditional publisher must be extremely talented. The competition in both fields is fierce. Every gallery has a niche; every lit agency has a niche; an artist/author must find the one where she fits perfectly. But, the artist/author must have a distinct style, or else why would the dealer/agent bother with her? She must have an edge that makes her work unique.
Although I knew all of this, conceptually, before the trip, I saw it in vivid color/line/material/sound in gallery after gallery. I saw what the dealers/agents see everyday, thus the level of talent that Larassa and I are being compared to.
I’ve often made the joke that if this writing gig doesn’t pan out for me, I could move to NYC to be a lit agent; I could go back to the business of finding and selling the talent. But that’s not going to happen for a lot of reasons, most of all, because I want to be a published writer more than anything. I am determined and focused.
Perseverance is my mission statement.
One day—unless the Internet goes the way of the Betamax—I’ll look back at this post of February 9, 2013 and laugh at the memory of when Larassa and I wanted to be famous… this as she and I are hunched over our respective canvases in the private studios of our neighboring mansions that overlook the Mediterranean Sea, creating yet another masterpiece to send out to the lucky sea of humanity.
Or maybe we’ll both stay in the thriving state of Iowa with our families and friends, and pursue our respective passions, and collect our modest but gratifying paychecks. Either way would be fine with me. I’ll bet Larassa would say the same.
And now, time for me to perservere. Au revoir, mes amis.
So You Want To Be A Writer?
So you want to be a writer? That’s cool, <ping!> you are a writer.
Yep, it’s that easy. Anyone can call him/herself a writer. Now, if you mean you want to be an AUTHOR, that’s slightly different. Selling a book today the old school, traditional publisher way is hard. Your work must be similar to the Greats (so a publisher knows which shelf to put you on), but not exactly the same as anyone (they call that plagiarism). You must have a hook, an angle, or a twist that separates you from the others. It may sound simple to type out a story and sell it, but this is one of those professions where the more you learn, the more you realize there is to learn.
writing = storytelling + language + emotion + edge
A writer must have experienced the heights and depths of every emotion possible, especially the difficult ones, in order to create characters that readers care about. Readers want to go on a fabulous, dramatic journey—for less than twenty bucks. Your job is to make it meaningful, too. So how do you prepare yourself to be a good writer? You need to experience life, especially the not-so-pretty parts.
Where to begin? Hmm… If only you’d been born ugly…
Oh well. Sit down, shut up, and I’ll tell you what you gotta do.
1) Recall everything your high school English teacher taught you, then forget it all again.
2) Read all of Ian Fleming’s books; alternately, buy every spy gadget that Sharper Image sells.
3) Start spying on people, especially when they’re whispering to others. Take copious notes; get juicy dialogue quotes.
4) Break up with your girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse for an imaginary reason and record their reaction right up to the point they call a moving van. Then tell them Never mind; it was just an experiment.
4a) Tell your kids you and your spouse are getting a divorce. In fact, go through with the divorce and record the way you mess up their entire lives. Eventually apologize.
5) Or, skip 4a and watch every John Hughes movie. Watch The Breakfast Club twice.
6) Get arrested. Stay in jail for at least 24 hours. Preferably in a small cell with a cranky psychopath.
7) Go to an animal shelter for a day. Watch the unwanted puppies be put to sleep.
8) Or, skip 7 and watch nothing but CNN coverage of the wars in the Middle East for at least two years.
9) Become schizophrenic. You must be able to think/act/talk like a thousand different people. You must be so good at this your spouse will want to divorce every one of you except The Stripper. This ain’t amateur impersonators night at Barnes & Noble, people.
10) Go on and on and on about your dreams to people who weren’t even in them. Do this until they actually care. (Note: this could take years of practice because no one really cares about another person’s dreams unless they were in them.) Once you’ve mastered the art of describing what goes on in your head to the point that people actually LISTEN (as opposed to just nodding their head until you shut up), then and only then proceed to step 11.
11) Write that sh!t down. This is what good literature is about. No one wants stories of pretty/happy/lucky/nice people. This makes readers feel BAD about their lives. Readers want to feel SUPERIOR to the characters in your stories. Why else would they waste their time reading about them? Occasionally let the handsome good guy get the girl. That gives your readers a modicum of hope (and prevents ALL your readers from committing suicide, thus ending the career you’ve ruined your life for).
12) Buy a coat of armor, ear plugs, and a blindfold. Because the better you do at all of the above, the more likely someone will say your writing isn’t even worth spreading on the bottom of a birdcage. They’ll say they need to put down shredded trash BEFORE putting your work in the cage because it’s worse than the bird poop.
And when that happens, you’ll know you’re a worthy writer—because that means your critics are jealous—or at least that you’re good enough for them to give you the time of day.
(wild applause)(deep, humble bow)(picks up roses thrown to my feet)
You are welcome, dear friends. Best of luck to you.
Define “Writing”
When people ask me how many hours I write in a day or a week, I tend to stumble through my answer. My sweet husband will often jump in to say, “Sixty hours a week, at least.” I look at him askance and smile at his generosity.
But it all depends on one’s definition of “writing,” I suppose.
Write, writing, wrote… def: the activity or skill of marking coherent words on paper and composing text.
1. Adding new words to a page (and apparently they’re supposed to be coherent words)
2. Editing those words: cutting out the weak or superfluous ones (read: adverbs); exchanging the boring words for non-boring words (read: verbs).
3. Repeat steps 1 and 2 until your fingers bleed.
But there’s more. What about the planning stages? Parents and teachers used to scold children for daydreaming, but would any great book have made it into print if authors weren’t allowed to daydream? Many days I’ll curl up on my sofa with paper and pen and scribble down ideas and thoughts, but some of my best ideas come to me in the shower, or in those sweet, sweet moments of hypnagogia. (Look that one up; it’s worth remembering.)
And here’s the big one: reading. Could anyone write a decent novel if s/he had never read one? And if a person wants to write a memorable story, mustn’t s/he read a plethora of good books? (Where else would we learn the meaning of plethora?)
Blogging! There’s another necessary element to “writing” in the Twenty-first century. (Okay, I don’t think Ann Patchett has a blog, but… )
So, if I add up blogging, reading, daydreaming, editing, and writing… carry the one… From now on, my response to the question, “How many hours a week do you write?” will be: “A thousand, give or take.”
But then, I am a pseudologist, right?
Pitching High Concept
I’ve recently finished my novel, A Reasonable Price, but I can’t tell you what it’s about because it’s a secret.
Here’s what I say to anyone who asks about it: “A Reasonable Price is the story of a mother’s battle against the doctor who used her son in a secret experiment.”
Here’s how most people respond: “Oh, interesting.” Which we all know is a code for “Boring.” Not the response a writer wants after spending a year on a novel.
Here’s my dilemma: My description is vague because my novel is high concept commercial fiction. I know this because a major NYC lit agent said so when I showed her my WIP (work in progress) this summer at a writers’ conference. What is high concept fiction? Briefly, high concept means the one sentence description (i.e., the hook) is shocking. Exciting. Fresh. High concept fiction takes a startling idea and frames it in an original story.
If I tell people what my novel is really about, I have two problems. First, any writer who thinks she has a great idea (okay, I guess that’s all of us), is fearful that someone else might steal the idea and get the story out faster (never better) than she would. In that case, our idea would no longer be Fresh. This rarely happens, but it would be soul-crushing if it did. Taylor Stevens has suffered comparisons and untrue accusations about mimicking Stieg Larsson because The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was released shortly before Stevens’ The Informationist even though she wrote her book long before she, or anyone in America, had ever heard of Larsson’s trilogy. Fortunately, Stevens’ work is fantastic in its own right—just ask James Cameron who recently bought the movie rights for The Informationist.
My second reason for keeping my “hook” a secret comes from a good friend of mine, Larassa Kabel, a very talented artist. Larassa said to me, “When you are working on a powerful idea, telling people about it releases the energy.” An artist, a painter or a writer, must have a burning energy inside in order to create something powerful.
Other than the aforementioned literary agent, I have told only four people what my novel is really about, plus the three beta-readers who are proofing it for their various fields of expertise—until this week.
This week I began the querying process. (Wow, I managed to type that last sentence without any swear words! I’m quite proud of myself.) I must have written two or three hundred variations of my query letter before I felt it was ready to send out. My first question for myself was, “Do I tell the high-concept secret?” Eventually, my answer became clear, “Uh, yeah. Duh.” I have been so secretive about my novel, that it was difficult to start talking about it. The high concept idea is the hook, and all queries must tell the hook (but never the ending).
So now it’s out there. A handful of agents have my secret in their Inbox. If I’ve done my part well enough, one day the rest of you will know the secret of A Reasonable Price.
Curious about a few examples of high concept stories? Snakes on a Plane is the best bad example I can think of. Here are a few good examples: Jaws, Home Alone, Se7en, The DaVinci Code, but also Romeo and Juliette. But the three best (my opinion) high concept stories, the ones my novel most relates to, are Seven Pounds (starring Will Smith), Never Let Me Go (written by Kazuo Ishiguro), and The Skin I Live In (directed by Pedro Almodovar). The secret behind these three novels/movies is NOT announced in any of the marketing campaigns.
Their power lies in the secret that unfolds with the story, not on the back cover.
How about it? Do you agree, disagree? Do you have other examples of high concept? I’d love to hear from you!