Hype: Let’s Talk About It

Being a part of the actual publishing industry, as opposed to just a reader, has allowed me to hear some pretty interesting buzzwords since I began.  Chief among these, I think, is the idea of “hype.”

My good friend, Mark Charan Newton, just did a blog-post about this (here).  I thought I’d lend my own thoughts to the subject, since Mark despises me squatting on his property and has ever since I took up residence in a small shack in his backyard and accumulated a small following of woodland creatures.

Hype, at this point, is something I’m content to call an idea, rather than a buzzword, because the actual word carries weight now.  However, it seems that weight is heavy and dire, the word being uttered with the same morbid, agonized reluctance as one whispers the name of Lucifer.  It’s sort of a passive condemnation, at this point; if someone says the book is hyped, then there are a lot of people who will likely take that to mean that the book is somehow awful and promoted heavily because authors are evil people who want all your money.  The idea of “hype” seems to have joined the ranks of hooded men on covers and the word “gritty” in the pantheon of fantasy myths and bogeymen, a problem that needs to be confronted and destroyed.

…does it?  Seriously?

As Mark says in his blog: an author that no one talks about is a dead author.  We don’t really have a choice but to hype ourselves to at least some degree.  Our publishers follow suit, promoting us and forcing us to the front of bookstores.  But I have a problem with this explanation: it makes it sound like hyping or promoting is done reluctantly, as though we’re meekly shuffling into the corner of your eyes, muttering a hasty “sorry about this” and then proceeding to set off a fireworks display that forms glittery outlines of nude chicks fighting grizzly bears over copies of our books.  I don’t like this explanation.  I don’t like asking for forgiveness.

Even if they won’t admit it, I think every author likes hyping themselves.  And I think every author should like hyping themselves.  It’s indicative that they’re proud of their work and they think it’s worth your while, even if it turns out the book wasn’t for you.

I’m proud of Tome of the Undergates. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have sent it in to Gollancz.  Gollancz is proud of Tome of the Undergates. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have published it.  If I wasn’t proud of my work, I wouldn’t be an author because I’d never show anyone anything.

That’s not say that I’m going to claim that Tome of the Undergates is for everyone.  Books either work for people or they don’t.  I’m pleased to say that Tome works for a lot of people and I’m all the more proud of it for that fact.  That doesn’t mean I’m going to go recommending it to elderly women who prefer romance novels with chesty, headless vikings on the cover, though.  Not every book is for everybody.  I’m not about to go to fans of China Mieville, noted shark-tamer, and say that Tome is exactly what they’re looking for.  But if one of them asks me about my book, I’m not going to tell them that it’s shit and hope they buy it because I’m just a humble guy.

This might sound arrogant to a few people, but why should it?  Pride in one’s work doesn’t necessarily constitute arrogance.  Now, if I happen to tell you I’m superior to you due to the fact that I can flawlessly impersonate Richard Nixon, you can call me out on my hubris.  But if you’re willing to do that to an American president, prepare for a bit of ol’ Dick.

And that’s not to say I’m calling people out for being wary of hype.  But here’s the thing: at the end of the day, the book will either work for you or it won’t.  Avoiding it because it doesn’t sound right for you is one thing.  Avoiding it because you read a bit and it didn’t grab you is also pretty valid.  But avoiding it because someone said you might like it?

Buddy.

Buddy.