To Each His Own (and so it goes...)

QUOTE OF THE DAY: Psychiatrists say girls tend to marry men like their fathers. That is probably the reason mothers cry at weddings…

*DISCLAIMER* My novel is currently with an editor at a very large publishing house right now, so I tend to get a little philosophical during these times. That said:

I had a very eye-opening experience lately. A lady I know (here, not in any writing forum I frequent) suggested we exchange manuscripts for critique. Granted, the genre she writes couldn’t be farther from what I normally read. In fact, I struggled through her entire novel, because it was so heavily political, among other things (and of course it was the opposite of MY political views) and it contained graphic scenes and frankly, I hated it. HATED it. But the writing was superb and I found myself reading against my will.

We returned the manuscripts to each other a few days ago, and I told her my response, and to my surprise, she felt the same way about MY novel! She said that the writing was great, and kept her reading, but the material was “childish” and “safe” in her opinion (in my defense I write Young Adult fiction and my characters don’t even get to second base, and I'm fine with that) and we finally both agreed that although we have a knack for creating good stories, we are completely different in our tastes.

I like to think of it as the same with Peanut Butter and "Vegemite."
I had a roommate from Australia in college, and she, for the life of her, could not fathom why I liked to put Peanut Butter on my toast in the morning. It made her gag, and she pontificated at length about the evils of the stuff.
HER spread of choice was Vegemite—which, in my opinion, ranks right up there with boogers and cold snot on the “grossness” scale. To me, it resembled green Vaseline, and smelled like Geritol, and of course, she absolutely LOVED it.
So here we were, Peanut Butter Girl and Vegemite Girl, and neither of us could understand or empathize with the other.

Thus it was with this woman and I. We are so different, it actually made it harder for us to appreciate each other’s work.

That’s why the publishing industry is so damn hard to break in to—every editor has their “idea” of what the public would want to read, and they balance it with what “they” want to read. So if you’re submitting Vegemite to a Peanut-butter Person, you’re going to get rejected.
Such is life. Variety is the spice!

Hopefully someday I’ll get the spices right!