LOS ANGELES--The buzz, it seemed, was all about branding.
Branding, as in doing whatever it takes to inspire customer loyalty and setting oneself apart from the crowd.
That was the central topic of discussion one night during the recent Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators national conference in Los Angeles. At the venerable Jade West restaurant in Century City, over mu shu and noodles, a group of authors debated the importance of turning oneself into a recognizable commodity, a la Tom Clancy.
Or Crest toothpaste.
The inspiration for this discussion was a workshop given that day by marketing guru Sheila M. Paterson. Paterson’s one-hour presentation, “To Be Successful You’ve Got to Be A Brand!” certainly struck a nerve with my dining partners, many of whom were seasoned veterans in the children’s publishing world.
. . . examples of authors who have become known for a certain style, and are more marketable . . . While I didn’t attend Paterson’s workshop—I was attending a simultaneous presentation by Simon & Schuster’s affable chief Brenda Bowen—I couldn’t help but be drawn into the debate.
Should children’s authors aim to “brand” themselves like a top-selling toothpaste? Should they stick to a certain style or genre to make their work more easily recognizable? Should a new author with a tongue-tripping name consider switching to a smoother pseudonym instead?
Many of my table mates seemed to agree: branding leads to a better chance of success. Names like Paula Danzinger, Tomie de Paola and Eric Carle popped up as examples of authors who have become known for a certain style, and are more marketable as a result.
. . . what about "writing from the heart"? Sounds logical. Who could argue with the successes of those named above? But while listening to the debate, I couldn’t help but thinking: what about “writing from the heart”? Writing to fit a brand or style seems a little like taking the assembly-line approach. Where’s the soul in that?
Consider, for example, Cynthia Rylant, one of the most versatile authors on the planet. Rylant can write well—terrifically well—in any form: picture book, poetry, short story, nonfiction, early reader, mid-grade and young adult novel. How would one brand her? Why would one brand her? Has her career suffered any because she didn’t carve out a special category?
And what of Jack Gantos? He started out with his Rotten Ralph picture books (now in their 26th year), went on to mid-grade novels (including the award-winning Joey Pigza books) published an adult novel, and recently released his first young-adult memoir, Hole In My Life. Something tells me Jack doesn’t sit around contemplating his proper niche in life.
There is some wisdom, I suppose, in coming up with a pen name if you are an established children’s author who suddenly wants to publish in the adult market—though New York author Jennifer Donnelly proves there are always exceptions.
Donnelly’s first picture book, Humble Pie, will be released this month by Simon & Schuster/Atheneum. Her first novel for adults, The Tea Rose, is slated for an October release from St. Martin’s Press. And her first young-adult novel, A Northern Light, is due out this spring from Harcourt. The first two books have received rave reviews; the buzz on the third is already building.
Three different books in three different categories. To the Disciples of Branding, this surely is the stuff of nightmares.
To others, though, it’s simply following one’s bliss.
Following her bliss,
not her brand. This brings us to Janell Cannon. The author/illustrator of the mega-selling Stellaluna has definitely carved out a niche in the “unloved animals” category. She’s made heroes of bats, snakes and cockroaches, and has a major following in the picture book world. But what does Cannon really want to write about?
Fuzzheads.
That’s right. Fuzzheads. Cat-like creatures who concern themselves with such things as environmentalism and social justice. Cannon introduced the characters several years back in Trupp, A Fuzzhead Tale. Her Little Yau, due out this month, is the second in what she hopes to be a long and fruitful Fuzzhead series.
Cannon’s publisher, Harcourt, has been supportive of the Fuzzheads even though reviews have not always been kind.
Trupp, Cannon says with a chuckle, “didn’t follow the program . . . It wasn’t in the unloved animal genre. If you don’t get it, well, it’s kind of like abstract art. It kind of pisses people off.” Cannon smiles when she says she expects Little Yau to get “spanked” by some of the critics, but she shrugs it off all the same.
The Fuzzhead characters “are just too vivid in my mind” to ignore them, she says. Cannon says even if Harcourt lost interest in the characters, it wouldn’t stop her from making the books. “Success” isn’t everything, she says.
“I’ll just do my best, and make the best books and drawings I can,”
Cannon says.
Following her bliss, not her brand.
