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- Mar 24, 2008
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Ohhkaayy.
I've got this little book thing. And I found this genre label...country noir.
I'm pretty sure this describes my book pretty well. Well. My book is more like country not-quite-noir.
But, I have two concerns about putting this as the genre.
1. This genre is so specific, it consists of about five prolific writers. I don't want an agent expecting the next Flannery o connor or something.
2. The book is NOT straight up country noir, as most of the plot hinges on a romance. And it kind of ends more urban crime. Romance could apply (but its NOT romantic suspense...read those and definitely doesn't fit beside them). Urban crime could apply, but only because it ends dealing with drug crime in west Baltimore. So I'm worried an otherwise interested agent might pass it but because they are thinking country noir on the rocks, not mixed up nice and commercial. It's written more literay fiction, but I'm just not so much in love with words and wandering enough for it to be lit fic.
So should I just stick with country noir? Or wimp out with a commercial fiction or similar label?
Here's my working "query" to help.
RACKED & RUINED [country not-quite-noir]:
Bekah had five years worth of federal time stuffed up in her wheel well and her arms around his neck when the man said he was cop.
At twenty-two, she’s running dope with her uncles and wishing hard to get out. But Donny’s back from prison, and even though he says they’re good- that he doesn’t blame her–they aren’t and he does. Meanwhile, Jed’s cutting everything down to blood- people he knows how to hold accountable, and talking about a creepin’ sort of federal feeling. Bekah’s no fool, when Jed says that and tells her she has to do the dope runs upstate or else she’s out, he means Donny came home and demanded to know why she, the rat, was still breathing. She’d think of saying no, but beyond the desire to keep moving air into her lungs, her Mennonite farming family is relying heavy like on her lies and money for survival. Together, the shackles of money and blood are damn near unbreakable.
When the cop she was never supposed to see again after the one weekend of rock climbing, steps up on her daddy’s porch looking to court her, she’s cornered. If he leaves without what he came for, Donny will kill her for sure. The only chance at keeping them both alive is to agree to the marriage and go to her uncles with a plan already hatched.
But six feet of freedom might be the only freedom she has left, once she discovers her new husband is that federal shit prickling all them little hairs on the back of Jed’s neck.
I've got this little book thing. And I found this genre label...country noir.
I'm pretty sure this describes my book pretty well. Well. My book is more like country not-quite-noir.
But, I have two concerns about putting this as the genre.
1. This genre is so specific, it consists of about five prolific writers. I don't want an agent expecting the next Flannery o connor or something.
2. The book is NOT straight up country noir, as most of the plot hinges on a romance. And it kind of ends more urban crime. Romance could apply (but its NOT romantic suspense...read those and definitely doesn't fit beside them). Urban crime could apply, but only because it ends dealing with drug crime in west Baltimore. So I'm worried an otherwise interested agent might pass it but because they are thinking country noir on the rocks, not mixed up nice and commercial. It's written more literay fiction, but I'm just not so much in love with words and wandering enough for it to be lit fic.
So should I just stick with country noir? Or wimp out with a commercial fiction or similar label?
Here's my working "query" to help.
RACKED & RUINED [country not-quite-noir]:
Bekah had five years worth of federal time stuffed up in her wheel well and her arms around his neck when the man said he was cop.
At twenty-two, she’s running dope with her uncles and wishing hard to get out. But Donny’s back from prison, and even though he says they’re good- that he doesn’t blame her–they aren’t and he does. Meanwhile, Jed’s cutting everything down to blood- people he knows how to hold accountable, and talking about a creepin’ sort of federal feeling. Bekah’s no fool, when Jed says that and tells her she has to do the dope runs upstate or else she’s out, he means Donny came home and demanded to know why she, the rat, was still breathing. She’d think of saying no, but beyond the desire to keep moving air into her lungs, her Mennonite farming family is relying heavy like on her lies and money for survival. Together, the shackles of money and blood are damn near unbreakable.
When the cop she was never supposed to see again after the one weekend of rock climbing, steps up on her daddy’s porch looking to court her, she’s cornered. If he leaves without what he came for, Donny will kill her for sure. The only chance at keeping them both alive is to agree to the marriage and go to her uncles with a plan already hatched.
But six feet of freedom might be the only freedom she has left, once she discovers her new husband is that federal shit prickling all them little hairs on the back of Jed’s neck.