(Disclaimer: My experiences with the publishing industry
have not been such I wish to repeat them. Take my comments below as honest
appraisals from an admittedly biased point of view, which doesn’t make me wrong.
That said, the five books we selected were all worthy of
winning the award and might have won in a year when the competition was not as
strong.)
I was recently a judge for the Private Eye Writers of
America Shamus Awards; the results will be announced at Bouchercon in Calgary.
Our panel received 34 novels, several of which reminded me that, while my
experiences with small publishers were less than optimal, the big boys aren’t much
better.
I’ll leave aside marketing campaigns, or the lack thereof. We
all know that ship has sailed and sunk. The big boys are sloppy even with the
most targeted of marketing, such as submitting for awards.
Here are the requirements to qualify for a Shamus Award:
Eligible works must feature as a main character a person
PAID for investigative work but NOT employed for that work by a unit of
government. These include traditionally licensed private investigators; lawyers
and reporters who do their own investigations; and others who function as hired
private agents. These do NOT include law enforcement officers, other government
employees, or amateur, uncompensated sleuths.
Succinct and clearly written. Yet half a dozen publishers
sent books that didn’t qualify. One book overtly stated the protagonist was a
government employee, though this was left murky until the last few pages. Is reading
the requirements too much to ask? Or maybe they didn’t read the book? Or ask
the author?
The most egregious example of sloppy work came from the
publisher of a well-known author whose name often appears on award lists. We
were tasked with evaluating books published in 2025; the publisher’s cover
letter indicated a January 2026 release. I suspected a typo, so I checked. Sure
enough, January 2026. This is your job, people. At least pretend to make an
effort.
One day each judge received a box, sans cover letter or
packing slip, with 12 books in it. Maybe that was all we were supposed to get;
maybe not. There was no way to know. Another box arrived the day before the
deadline containing two books and a cover letter that mentioned three. I sent
him an e-mail to point out the error; he apologized profusely and overnighted
the missing book. It worked out, but why wait until the day before the
deadline?
A friend I trust recently pointed out that my cover
descriptions could be better. Since I had 34 examples written by experts
sitting in my reading room, I figured I’d not get a better resource.
This is why I don’t get paid to figure.
Almost without exception they give away too much of the
story, including the first big reveal, which spoils whatever tension the author
intended. The prose is too often not just purple but lurid, leading people
unfamiliar with the author to potentially false conclusions about the style and
quality of writing inside. Several have spelling, usage, and grammar errors. I can’
t decide if the people writing them were incompetent, or if the text was
produced by AI and not proofread; I also can’t decide which is worse. A publisher’s
lifeblood is clever and literate use of the written word. Such amateurish dust
jacket blurbs are akin to Weyerhaeuser setting forest fires.
Things aren’t much better inside the book. Authors who write
hardcover novels are under enormous pressure to meet deadlines and word counts;
rarely is what they turn in isn’t as clean as they’d like it to be. That
shouldn’t be a problem, as the publisher who pushed them so hard for the
deadline has editors and proofreaders to tidy up after them. The author’s job
is to be creative and on time.
Well, Maxwell Perkins* is dead and his descendants aren’t
doing so hot themselves. Many of the books I read were filled with
·
The same word used too often and too close
together.
·
Flabby writing. I realize not everyone wants to
write as sparely as I do, nor should they; that’s a stylistic decision. Still,
the amount of time spent on things that do not matter – say, two full
paragraphs describing a waitress who will take an order and never be seen again
– is mind numbing. Readers are busy people. Don’t waste their time.
·
Unnecessary repetition. I was taught, if I wrote
the same thing three ways in hope of getting through to the reader, to pick the
best and cut the others. This no longer appears to be the case, as the practice
is clearly endorsed by publishers who must believe their readers are so stupid
they need things explained multiple times.
The philosopher Tom Waits once said, “The world is a hellish
place, and bad writing is ruining the quality of our suffering.” There is a lot
of good writing out there. There’d be even more if the publishing industry held
up its end.
(* - If you don’t know who Maxwell Perkins was, or have not
seen the movie Genius, rectify the situation immediately.)

