Sally Rooney has refused, in interviews, to talk about her private life. Author Debbie Urbanski recently wrote a piece for Literary Hub titled: If I tell you secrets about my personal life, will you look at my new book? The point Debbie made was, most of us are desperate for publicity, we need our books to sell, so we feel compelled to participate in the sharing of personal information. What are your thoughts on how much writers should share?
Thursday, July 10, 2025
Voyeurs and Exhibitionists from James W. Ziskin
Sally Rooney has refused, in interviews, to talk about her private life. Author Debbie Urbanski recently wrote a piece for Literary Hub titled: If I tell you secrets about my personal life, will you look at my new book? The point Debbie made was, most of us are desperate for publicity, we need our books to sell, so we feel compelled to participate in the sharing of personal information. What are your thoughts on how much writers should share?
Wednesday, July 9, 2025
Clicks, Likes and Book Sales
What are your thoughts on how much writers should share?
by Dietrich
Sally Rooney, known for her reticence in discussing her private life, contrasts with the pressures many authors face to share personal details for publicity. In a recent Literary Hub piece, Debbie Urbanski asked, "If I tell you secrets about my personal life, will you look at my new book?" This question highlights the dilemma: in an era where personal branding often overshadows artistic output, how much should writers reveal to promote their work?
While sharing personal stories—through social media, interviews, or essays—can foster a connection with readers, it also raises questions about authenticity and privacy. I see social media offering grassroots promotion opportunities, yet there’s the risk of blurring boundaries between public and private life. Does the literary marketplace start to feel like a confessional booth, where oversharing can be mistaken for authenticity?
The decision to share hinges on intention and agency. When personal stories align with a writer’s values, such as in memoirs that illuminate broader truths, they can resonate deeply. However, oversharing can invite scrutiny rather than empathy and create an expectation for more disclosure. It feels to me that this turns a writer’s life into an open book, potentially at the cost of personal agency.
Sally Rooney’s success—millions of books sold and adaptations on major streaming platforms—demonstrates that a writer’s work can speak louder than personal revelations. While maintaining a social media presence can boost visibility, I think trading privacy for publicity feels like it comes at a steep price. Instead of divulging intimate details, I’d sooner focus on sharing thoughts on the creative process, my literary influences, even intellectual passions to hopefully engage readers without sacrificing personal boundaries. Besides, I think a touch of mystery can be more compelling than an open book.

Tuesday, July 8, 2025
Attention! Attention! My Life is....
Most writers are desperate for publicity. We need our books to sell, so we feel compelled to participate in the sharing of personal information. What are your thoughts on how much writers should share?
Monday, July 7, 2025
Coming Out of the Darkness - Matthew Greene
Sally Rooney has refused, in interviews, to talk about her private life. Author Debbie Urbanski recently wrote a piece for Literary Hub titled: If I tell you secrets about my personal life, will you look at my new book? The point Debbie made was, most of us are desperate for publicity, we need our books to sell, so we feel compelled to participate in the sharing of personal information. What are your thoughts on how much writers should share?
When I was younger, I wanted to be an actor. I lived for community theatre and school plays and was convinced that I belonged on the stage. I headed off to college to study musical theatre performance, and it took less than one semester to realize I was in the wrong place. The prospect of turning a few fun moments in the spotlight into a professional pursuit seemed miserable, and I started casting about for a Plan B. The moment I stepped into my first real writing class, I knew I’d found my place.
There were a lot of reasons for that shift in focus, but a lot of it came down to this: I didn’t want to be the product I was selling. As a writer, I could bring in pages, perhaps even read them out loud for a group…but when critiques began, it was the pages we were talking about. The work. The writing. Not me. As a playwright, I clung to a quote from Marsha Norman who insisted that writers belonged in the dark in the back of the theater. They weren’t meant to be seen. So, it stood to reason that a novelist could be even less visible. It was the pages that mattered, not the author.
I’m sure you can tell where this is going. Cut to several years later, and I’m constantly being encouraged to “put myself out there” and to “put a human face” to my work. I thought I’d escaped the dreaded “b-word” (branding), but it seems writers are no longer allowed, as Marsha Norman encouraged, to stand in the dark and let their work do the talking.
Maybe I was naïve from the start. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so eager to hide so early in my career. After all, Dickens was doing public readings long before the days of BookTok and Instagram Live. But the pressure to be out in front seems to be growing exponentially, and we can probably blame social media for that. (After all, we blame it for everything else.)
Of course, this brave new world presents opportunities that didn’t exist in generations past. Self-promotion can be exhausting, but it can also be empowering. Authors who used to be at the mercy of marketing budgets and industry gatekeepers can (theoretically) take matters into their own hands, engage with their readers, and build a career online. Sure, this has made the landscape more crowded, and it’s more difficult than ever to get noticed. But that’s all the more reason to post early and often, isn’t it? All the more reason to share as much of yourself as you can in an effort to break through the noise.
So, how much personal information does a writer have to share? It’s something I’m still grappling with. I’m consistently surprised that people even want to know about my life and my creative process. It’s certainly not that interesting when you’re in the midst of it. But I found myself talking a lot about my background, my personal experiences, and my perspective as a debut novelist while I was promoting There’s No Murder Like Show Murder. And I must admit, it was kind of fun coming out of the dark.
All of this is colored, in my mind, by the AI elephant in the room. Putting a “human face” to our work is more important than ever, since it’s something our audiences will never get from computer-generated content. Our humanity is baked into our prose, of course, and discerning readers will always be able to feel that. (Or so I keep telling myself to avoid the doom spiral.) But the more I’m willing to talk about my work—about the experiences, anxieties, and insights that fueled the thing I'm trying to sell—the easier it will be to forge those strong, human connections.
I think about the fallout from the Milli Vanilli lip-syncing scandal and the subsequent trend of live performance music videos and “unplugged” concerts that followed. Bands and artists were eager to prove that they were real musicians. Maybe we should take a page from their book. Maybe sharing personal details is our version of warming up in front of the audience, unplugging the amp, and showing the messy, beautiful humanity that powers our work.
Friday, July 4, 2025
Follow Your Nose by Poppy Gee
CRAFT If you were teaching a writing workshop, what’s a great writing prompt for writers to get started on a piece of writing? Or is there a method you find helpful when you’re sitting at your desk and can’t think what to write about?
One of my favourite writing prompts is using the scent of
smell to trigger a memory for the character, sending them back in time to a
significant or interesting moment. I use it when I’m teaching my crime fiction
writing workshops - it’s a good way to access a character’s backstory, without
overthinking it. As a pantser – someone who writes by instinct, not according
to a plan – this technique often opens up new character trajectories for me.
Our sense of smell is the strongest and most powerful of all
the senses. There is a scientific reason for this: our olfactory bulb is
located at the front of the brain, and acts as a relay station, sending signals
to other areas of the brain that control emotion, memory and mood. Evolutionally,
our sense of smell guided us to make vital decisions about food, potential
dangers, who to mate with, who to fear.
Certain smells create a powerful scent memory that can cause an emotional response – this is a great way to give texture and depth to a character.
For me personally, if I catch a whiff of someone’s cigarette
as I’m walking down the street, I inhale it happily. The sweet, pungent smell
of cigarette smoke reminds me of carefree childhood summer holidays at my grandparent’s
house on the Gold Coast. Gramps smoked a pipe and cigars, and Nana smoked slim
cigarettes she kept in an elegant silver tin. In the early evenings, Gramps
would smoke in his chair in the front living room overlooking the Broadwater,
drinking rum. Often there was a bowl of burger rings on the table. In the early
morning, when the lawn was still damp with dew, Nana wandered her beautiful,
tropical garden alone, cigarette in hand. This was her daily ritual, surveying
her pawpaw tree for new fruit, admiring her bird of paradise and flowering
ginger, her dressing gown floating elegantly around her, her cigarettes and
lighter hidden in a deep pocket.
My grandparents had an array of ashtrays: chrome spinning lidded
ashtrays; pretty crystal-cut glass bowls; ashtrays set on tall stands that
could be moved around the room. They had a huge glass bowl jar of matchboxes that
they had collected from hotels across the world. Back in the 70s and 80s, when
you could smoke anywhere, upmarket hotels offered branded matchboxes for
guests, like they do drink coasters. As a kid I loved playing with their
matchbox collection. My parents hated the idea of smoking, they told us it was
smelly, dirty, poisonous, that it ruined your teeth and skin. I didn’t see any
sign of this on holidays at Nana and Gramps’ place. I know smoking is bad for
you, but I still connect the sweet scent of burning tobacco with summer holiday
feelings: beach days and movie nights, ice-cream and amusement parks, and my
grandparents, living the relaxed, graceful life of retirees with time to make
smoking a pleasant ritual.
A scent memory in a narrative could be deeply meaningful,
such as the scent of fire triggering a traumatic experience; a certain perfume
reminiscent of an unfaithful lover; the fresh, clean scent of a new baby
reminding a character of their own private, terrible loss. But it could also be
something simple: the yeasty smell of beer a reminder of a pub where a person
used to work; the salty, warm smell of movie popcorn jolting someone back to a
first kiss; or the smell of two-stroke diesel on cold air prompting memories of
snowmobiles, boats or even a lawnmower and a story associated with that.
Using the sense of smell is a simple, effective technique to
add colour and texture to your story, and it has the potential to extract something really interesting from your subconscious.
Thursday, July 3, 2025
Sole Lundy Fastnet, by Catriona
If you were teaching a writing workshop, what’s a great writing prompt for writers to get started on a piece of writing?
Or is there a method you find helpful when you’re sitting at your desk and can’t think what to write about?And then there was the time that two bits of British culture met head-on and one had to give. (Like when QEII was crowned the same day Sir Edmund Hillary got to the summit of the highest mountain in the world and the headline writers were flummoxed. Until the Daily Express came up with ALL THIS AND EVEREST TOO.)
Tuesday, July 1, 2025
What We Talk About When We Talk About Writing Prompts
If you were teaching a writing workshop, what’s a great writing prompt for writers to get started on a piece of writing?
Or is there a method you find helpful when you’re sitting at your desk and can’t think what to write about?
I don’t say this as a humblebrag, but I’ve never suffered from Writer’s Block.
My issue has always been starting with the right image or phrase. Get that right, and I’m in the zone. Hours go by. Sentences seem to write themselves. (Flow, as the nerds say.)
So let’s stop treating writing prompts like caffeine for writers and start using them more like tuning forks. A way to find the pitch you’re writing toward.
My approach:
Tie your prompt to a craft goal.
The prompt isn’t the spark—it’s the lens.
1. Craft Focus: Perspective
Prompt:
Look at the letter W.
Is it the 23rd letter of the alphabet?
Or upside down—or an M?
Or turned sideways—the letter E?
The lesson: Any scene, character, or plot point can be recharged if you shift how you see it. Sometimes, the solution isn’t new material—it’s a new angle.
2. Craft Focus: Emotion
We’ve all heard “Show, don’t tell.” But how do you feel your way into emotion without stating it outright?
Prompt: Pick a color. Now ask:
- What emotion do you attach to that color?
- Is that association cultural? Personal? Both?
Example:
In the West, black is death. In parts of Asia, white is.
Stephen Crane’s “The Blue Hotel” plays with this beautifully—blue as
mood, setting, danger.
Or look at Chandler’s “Red Wind.” The Santa Ana wind is a red hot, and dry
wind that affects people and the detective’s investigation psychologically.
The lesson: Emotion can live in the atmosphere—in color, in light, in objects. Let the reader feel what’s unsaid.
3. Craft Focus: Visual & Sonic Narrative
Sometimes you’re stuck not because you don’t have an idea, but because you don’t know how to stage it.
Prompt 1:
Read the final lines of Chandler’s “Red Wind.”
Then watch the last scene of High Noon.
Chandler’s pearls = Cooper’s badge.
One gesture, no words, tells the whole story.
Prompt 2:
Watch Midnight Run.
Listen to the dialogue.
Almost every line is a question.
Even the answers are more questions.
It shouldn’t work. But it does.
The lesson: Dialogue can dance. Props can carry weight. Storytelling isn’t just in plot—it’s in how people speak, what they drop, what they won’t say.
4. Craft Focus: Time (The Hidden Architecture)
Writers often
get tangled not in what happens—but when.
Time on the page is slippery. Is the story moving forward? Looping? Stuck? Too
fast? Too slow?
Prompt:
Write a scene twice:
- Once in real time (moment-to-moment, like a film).
- Then compress that same scene into five sentences, with time jumps built in.
The lesson: Narrative time is elastic. Knowing when to stretch a moment and when to skip ahead—gives your writing rhythm. It’s what separates pace from plot.
Look at how
Toni Morrison handles time in Beloved.
The novel loops, haunts, and slips between past and present—not randomly, but
with purpose. Memory is the structure.
Now, it’s your turn.
A Prompt About Subtext (Your Carver Moment)
Prompt:
Write a scene between two people who both want something but neither can say
it directly.
Every line of dialogue must be either:
- a question,
- an evasion, or
- an unrelated comment.
Inspiration:
Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants.”
What’s being discussed in that story is never named but you feel it.
The lesson: Sometimes, the most powerful writing is what’s not on the page. Let tension build in the unsaid.
Let the prompts
be more than warm-ups.
Let them be invitations to depth.
Monday, June 30, 2025
Ready. Set. Write!
If you were teaching a writing workshop, what's a great writing prompt for writers to get started on a piece of writing? Or is there method you find helpful when you're sitting at your desk and can't think what to write about?
A
friend of mine once gave me a gift called The Writer's Toolbox, which includes different ideas, prompts, and games that promise to stimulate
your creativity and crush writer’s block. That was many years ago. I am happy
to say, knock on wood, that I've not had to use it, yet. Still, I keep it handy,
just in case.
My actual writing process is unbelievably
simple, I either plop my butt in the chair and just start writing on whatever
idea that is percolating in my brain at the moment, and fortunately there
always seems to be a few. Or I stress read while berating myself about
procrastinating about writing until shame chases me back into my chair to write
again. Now, I'll admit as processes go, it might not be the glamorous, sexy,
answer but it's the truth.
There
is one writing prompt that I really do enjoy and find helpful for kicking that
lazy idea factory into gear, the free write. In fact, it was a free write in a
random English class that made me think that maybe writing was something I could be actually good at. It’s a wonderful thing to be given a word, a
sentence, or even a subject, along with few minutes to allow whatever story
that may be trapped in your head to come flowing out onto the page without
judgement. And it does come, good, bad, and almost always ugly, it comes.
So,
if I were teaching a workshop I would start with a fresh piece of paper and a
pen and fifteen minutes to write without thought just words on paper, no grammar,
no structure, not even a story, just ideas being born in real time. I’m never
not surprised at what appears on the page. I think my students would feel the
same.
I would also prompt them to read Stephen King’s, On Writing. As every writer should.😊
Friday, June 27, 2025
Finding a gem in the midst of garbage - by Harini Nagendra
What's the writing business going to look like 5 years from now? Do you think it's going to be more or less the same, or will AI and other technology trends transform it dramatically - if so, how?
If someone offered to tell my future for free, I would normally run from them, as far and fast as I can. I don't want to know what my future will bring - if it's not good news, I would be paralyzed by fear, and if it is good news, I'd probably become complacent and give up any form of active striving.
But when it comes to the book writing business, I wouldn't run away - in fact I'd be sorely tempted to steal a crystal ball if I knew where one was to be found. As a teacher too - I know it's getting harder and harder to design assessments because students can so easily AI the answer. I have colleagues teaching coding courses who are resorting to pen-and-paper exams, because that's the only way for them to tell if students have understood the philosophy behind the coding - or if they have asked ChatGPT to write the code for them. I've always preferred take-home, open book exams because they encouraged creative thinking, as opposed to rote memorization - but AI has turned all of that upside down.
What about book writing, though? I can see AI editing and translation software becoming widely used by writers - at least for copy editing. But I think a good development editor is worth their price in gold, and can't be replaced - even in 5 years - by AI. Similarly, books that display lateral thinking, creative books that connect two different genres or play with tropes in an unexpected way - go against the grain of most AI algorithms, which rely on training algorithms - that is to say, they can do more of what they are taught to do, and probably learn how to do it well, but can they do something completely new, which hasn't been done before? I'd be surprised - though I'm not saying no for now. The speed at which these algorithms evolve is quite something.
Would I ever want to use AI to write a book? No - it would suck out all the fun from the process. I can't understand why writers would want to use AI to write text, or plot out an entire book, though I expect many will use generative AI to flood the market with books. These books will be substandard, because their purpose is only to make money, not to create something beautiful - but if they can be generated in the millions and billions at the click of a button, how will readers find the books they want to read? How can we bring back serendipity, the joy a reader experiences at discovering a new book or author whom they never heard of - and then get drawn into the worlds they create?
That's what I worry about, when I worry about AI. Not that writers will still write books, and readers will want to read them. But - how will readers find writers that sparkle and catch their eye, when the landscape is filled with cheap rubbish?
Thursday, June 26, 2025
How Much Would You Pay to Watch a Robot Hit a Golf Ball? from James W. Ziskin
There is much dread about the future of AI and the writing of fiction. Specifically, lots of folks are wondering if AI will put human writers out of business.
Well, in 1997 Deep Blue defeated chess master Garry Kasparov. In the twenty-seven years since, has anyone organized a world chess championship for computers? Would anyone watch if they did? I don’t think so.
Let me give another example:
Would you pay to watch a robot hit a golf ball? (Click on link or picture)
Or would you rather watch this? (click on link or picture)
If people are willing to get on an airplane, fly to Georgia, rent a car, check into an expensive hotel, and pay hundreds of dollars to sit in the sun for eight hours to watch a human whack a small dimpled ball with a stick, then I predict that no one will ever want to read stories written by robots. No matter how good AI becomes, it will never be human and therefore will hold little interest beyond a huh-look-at-that, fleeting curiosity that will shrivel up, die, and be forgotten as soon as a butterfly floats by or a favorite song comes on the radio or you smell onions frying or you pet a cat. Or…huh, look at that… My fingernails need trimming.
Admit it. AI has no spirit, no perspective, self-irony, or obsession. It has no convictions, no envy, no sloth, and no lust for success. It doesn’t care. In short, it has no soul.
And its heart has never been broken, which means it will never write anything of creative value.
If you don’t agree with me, let’s do a simple test, Pick A or B from the choices below:
1. I would rather
A. Pay to hear a mimic imitate Frank Sinatra really, really well
B. Pay to hear Frank Sinatra sing
2. I would rather
A. Watch an automaton perform Hamlet
B. Watch John Gielgud perform Hamlet
3. I would rather
A. Read a humorous story written by AI
B. Read anything by P. G. Wodehouse
4. I would rather
A. (Ahem) do it with a love doll
B. Do it with a real person
5. I would rather
A. Own a non-fungible digital image of…I don’t know…anything at all?
B. Own a true Vermeer or a finger painting by my child
6. I would rather
A. Put on virtual reality glasses and visit the virtual Grand Canyon
B. Visit the Grand Canyon
7. I would rather
A. Have a robotic dog do whatever robotic dogs do
B. Have a dog gaze into my eyes with love and devotion and purity of heart
If you answered A to any of the above, please return your Human Race Membership Card to the trash bin on your computer screen. You don’t need it.
If you answered B to all of the above, you win! Take heart. AI will never replace the human joys cited above. Nor will it replace millions of other human joys, each as unique as a snowflake. And it will never replace human writers. Not in five years. Not ten. Never.
But if—by some miracle—it does replace human writers, a robot will surely win the Masters, the U.S. Open, the British Open, and the PGA tournaments. (And we’ll all be doing it with love dolls.)
Sdfjsdfkh
Wednesday, June 25, 2025
Best friend, worst enemy — a crystal ball perspective
What's the writing business going to look like 5 years from now? Do you think it's going to be more or less the same, or will AI and other technology trends transform it dramatically - if so, how?
by Dietrich
What will it look like in five years? I don’t have any answers, but it does bring up some questions. Like will there be a seismic shift driven by AI? Will the business of writing be a little different, or will it be unrecognizable?
Some writers are already finding AI useful for brainstorming, refining drafts and taking over tedious tasks like grammar checking and formatting. Some may feel that leaning too heavily on AI might stifle their creativity. Then there’s the issue of ethics around using AI-generated content, especially if it’s not disclosed to readers or publishers. There’s also the question of potentially over-saturating the market, making it harder for human-crafted stories to stand out.
I’m on the side of the human touch—a writer’s style and voice without algorithmic influence—believing it preserves emotional depth and originality in storytelling.
Let’s face it, technology is reshaping the landscape, and in five years writers will certainly be able to use AI writing tools for more than polishing grammar and checking facts. A writer may be able to feed an AI a rough draft and have it collaborate, co-create narratives, suggest plot twists and character arcs. It may be able to analyze reader preferences and predict trends. For some of us this will feel like a dystopian takeover and raise questions like: Will human writers still steer the ship, bringing emotional depth and cultural nuance that AI can’t replicate? Will data be the writer’s new best friend or his or her worst enemy?
Technology promises to redefine how stories are consumed. I recently read that by 2030, we may be crafting narratives for immersive platforms, where readers enter a story via VR headsets. Imagine a thriller where the reader chooses a character’s next move, with AI adjusting the plot based on their decisions. Writers may need to master non-linear storytelling, blending traditional prose with game-like interactivity. A shift like that would demand new skills where the writer becomes part coder, part experience designer.
Will real-time analytics be able to fine-tune a writer’s work and optimize it for viral potential? And could the downside lead to formulaic writing and predictable patterns, with more focus going to trends than originality? AI generated content could flood the market, but if the quality suffers, it may bring readers back around to craving novels written by humans.
And where will the new technology leave traditional publishing? Will legacy publishers need to pivot to stand out in an AI-saturated market? Will self-publishing move to the forefront as AI tools increasingly help writers edit, design and market their work directly to readers. Will writers need to certify their work as AI-free or disclose AI’s role in the process?
There’s no doubt that technology is advancing, but I’d like to think the core and creativity of storytelling—human emotion and connection—will hang in there and that technology will be there to assist to that end. And that a creative mind and a distinct voice will remain the writer’s best currency moving forward.
Tuesday, June 24, 2025
Brave Old World
Monday, June 23, 2025
Predictions from a Cloudy Crystal Ball - By Matthew Greene
Looking into your crystal ball, what's the writing business going to look like 5 years from now? Do you think it's going to be more or less the same, or will AI and other technology trends transform it dramatically - if so, how?
Before the rise of AI, I think I would have been a little more confident about making predictions five years into the future. But things seem to be moving so quickly, changing so dramatically, that it's hard to imagine what may come next. Every day, it seems, I read another headline about how this new technology is fundamentally changing the way our world works. Sure, most of these are click bait, rage bait, or some other kind of bait…but it’s tough to keep up with everything I’m supposed to worry about.
I say all this to set expectations about my fortune telling prowess—it’s harder than ever to foresee what’s coming down the pike. (I almost didn’t use an em dash in that last sentence, since ChatGPT seems particularly fond of them. But I refuse to let the robots co-opt my favorite punctuation mark!) However, a little speculation never hurt anybody. And I’d be delighted to be wrong about some of these predictions. So, here goes…
1. THE RISE OF AI SLOP WILL EBB AND FLOW IN THE PUBLISHING WORLD, BUT NEVER REALLY DISAPPEAR. We’re already seeing content being generated by large language models that is a sad, sorry approximation of genre fiction. It’s downright criminal that this stuff is a bastardization of stolen work being passed off as original “content,” but I take comfort in the fact that people are already getting pretty good at sniffing it out. As long as there’s an easy buck to be made, AI-generated books will probably stick around (all the more reason to elect leaders who will push to regulate this technology!), but I don’t think this is reason to despair. It’s a call to action to create unique stories that only you can tell, reflections of a human experience that readers won’t find in synthetic prose. It’s also why I predict that…
2. PERSONAL CONNECTIONS WITH AUTHORS WILL BECOME MORE IMPORTANT THAN EVER. As discerning readers seek out human stories told by human writers, I think they’ll be eager to form more human connections. I predict that authors will need to be more active on social media and at in-person events to help readers put a face to the work they’re reading. This is a tough one for me, since I’d much rather hide behind my words than be seen and heard as their creator. But in an increasingly disconnected and divided world, we’re going to need to commune with readers like never before. Especially in light of my next prediction…
3. BOOKS WILL BE USED AS AMMUNITION IN THE CULTURE WARS AND AS A LIFESAVING ANTIDOTE TO DIVISIVE, DEHUMANIZING RHETORIC. We’re already seeing the devastating rise of book bans and anti-intellectualism in the USA and beyond. But the more people rail against the written word, the more they’re inadvertently confirming what we book lovers have always believed: literature remains one of the most potent and powerful forces in our world. So, while I hate seeing books about marginalized identities pulled from library shelves and schools, every instance of censorship should be a reminder that these works have the power to change the world. The optimistic part of this prediction is the belief that if we can preserve access to a diverse array of stories, there still may be hope that we can bridge cultural divides and heal an ailing world. It’s why books make dictators so damn nervous.
4. AS EVERY OTHER ENTERTAINMENT SECTOR CLINGS TO IP ADAPTATIONS, BOOKS WILL BE THE ONLY PLACE PEOPLE CAN TURN FOR TRULY ORIGINAL STORIES. This is another prediction that is only part pessimism. It’s no secret that Hollywood seems allergic to new, exciting ideas. (With a few fabulous exceptions, like Sinners, that prove the rule.) Broadway seems to be following suit, with most “new” shows adapted from pre-existing brands. This makes the book world more important than ever, as the true birthplace of original stories. As people experience franchise fatigue elsewhere, I optimistically predict that audiences will turn over a new leaf (literally!) and get back into the habit of reading. Maybe this will mean more focus on audio and short-form episodic content, but I think we should prepare over the next five years for an influx of readers looking for a break from the same rehashed stories they're getting elsewhere.
I’ll stop there, in the interest of leaving on a hopeful note. It’s easy to wring our hands about the state of affairs in the writing business and beyond, but I do think there’s reason to hope. (And to reclaim the em dash—we deserve it.) We’re entering uncertain times, to be sure, but the power of storytelling has remained a constant throughout history. I know when I’m feeling unmoored or uncertain, I like to curl up with a good book. Here’s hoping many others will do the same!








