Tagged: Fiction

what does good writing mean in 2025?

This is a question that I’ve considered a lot – is good writing the peak of literary form, as in the construction of beautiful sentences, the creation of vivid worlds, the expression of emotion within paragraphs, all based on honed skill? Or is good writing what sells, and thus, defined more by what grabs attention and holds it? Which, based on modern sales numbers, would be more cliche, action romance-style content?

Because to me, great writing is writing that conveys real emotion. Great authors are able to recreate the emotional sense of the scene that they’ve imagined within the body of the reader, making reading a novel the closest thing we have to viewing the world through the eyes of somebody else. The setting, the concept, the idea that you’re exploring, all of this needs to be exuded through the words that you choose, and the specific placement of each verb needs to add to the broader picture, and draw out the emotion of each scene.

This is the pursuit of all great writers, and yet, I would argue that some of the best writers on this front likely wouldn’t sell many copies in the current literary landscape.

Does that mean that this is no longer ‘good’ writing? Is good writing defined by the market? By the readers? Or is good writing based on the sense that the writer gets from creating it?

It’s hard to define, and success, of course, is relative. I once wrote a kids’ book series for my own children, with the idea being that it would expand upon literary concepts and mechanisms as each book went on. So by the third book, we have more metaphor, while the first is more expository and flat. The idea, in my head at least, was that this would open their eyes to literary and storytelling devices, and that would help them create better stories of their own.

Maybe that worked, but then again, if other readers don’t have the same understanding, does that even matter?

If you want to sell books, then more straightforward, escapist stories are doing better right now. The reading public has less time to commit to a novel, so they’re more likely, seemingly, to engage with books that go from point-to-point, in quick succession, with driving, fast-paced narratives that don’t require a lot of considered thought.

This is a generalisation, of course, as there are still some novels that gain traction that do require more analysis and questioning. But I’ve literally been told by some within the publishing industry that as a middle-aged male author, I need to be concentrating on thrillers and fast-paced stories, as opposed to literary fiction.

Because that’s what sells, and as such, should those teaching writing courses be focused on what would be considered good, artistic writing that explores the virtues of the characters, and encourages deeper thought, or should we all sign up for the next action thriller workshop, and concentrate on reimagining James Bond stories in modern settings?

I don’t know the answer, but I can tell you that many great literary works are sitting on hard drives, never to be read, because the market is just not interested in them at present.

And maybe, with short-form video swallowing up all of our leftover attention spans, there’s no way back for more considered, literary works.

Meanjin

It’s pretty sad to see Meaniin being shut down, given the significance that it holds within the Australian literary landscape. 

Meanjin, for those unaware, is arguably the peak literary journal in Australia, and has presented a long-running showcase of some of the top talent in the region. Founded in 1940, Meanjin has been the kicking off point for many great writers, and has helped them connect with an array of new readers. And for many authors, it has also provided ballast within the ever-challenging literary waters, in giving them a means to find community, find voice, and set the standard for literary exploration.

But now, its publishers, the (indirectly) government-funded Melbourne University Press (MUP), have decided to end Meanjin, due to poor sales.

Or more specifically (as per MUP Chair Professor Warren Bebbington):

“The decision was made on purely financial grounds, the board having found it no longer viable to produce the magazine ongoing.”

So low sales, which no longer justify MUP’s investment in the publication. Which, given that it’s funded by Melbourne University, which recieves significant government funding, is questionable, particularly when measured against its broader cultural impact, while it’s also notable that the Australian government’s currently seeking new ways to better fund arts projects through its Creative Australia initiative, which has a dedicated (yet strikingly bare) writing specific element that, presumably, would be able to assist in supporting key platforms like Meanjin. But to be clear, the call on this did not involve the government, it’s the MUP board that has made the decision.

It’s disappointing, but it’s also not a huge surprise. The Australian literary sector has been decaying for years, with fewer people willing to commit the time and mental energy into more complex, challenging narratives, thus impacting literary sales, and re-shaping the book industry.

Like all forms of entertainment, books are fighting a losing battle against social media for attention, and literary fiction has arguably suffered the most. Which, reflecting market demand, means that many great books are not being published, and many great writers are simply not getting the opportunities they once would have. At the same time, some authors are also reforming their creative approach in order to fit into the modern market, so they can make a career out of the opportunities that remain.

The end result is a less vibrant literary ecosystem, and a less engaging literary community, which ultimately means a smaller audience for all books, and a more limited scope of concepts and ideas. The loss of Meanjin will only compound this, by giving us one less outlet for high quality writing, and one less entry point for emerging writers looking to test their skills, and find a path into book publishing.

For me, Meanjin was always a lofty goal, a benchmark to prove my literary talent. I submitted a few times, never got published (understandable, considering the names I was competing against for space), but I did make it into many other literary journals and magazines, all of which helped to assure me that I did have the talent, and that I could pursue writing as a career. 

That’s the role such publications serve. Sure, Meanjin was a showcase of the best published authors of the day, but it was also open to submissions from nobodies, people who hoped to get their name out there, and in front of a knowledgeable audience. It was a badge of honor, a prize in itself, and a lifeline for every writer who’s creating in isolation and hoping for their big break. Meanjin was part of the architecture of what had been a consistently over-performing Australian literary industry. And without it, our writing culture will be worse off, in a significant way. 

Which is pretty disheartening, and for aspiring writers, it’s a big blow, in an increasingly challenging writing landscape.

Does that mean that you should abandon your literary dreams, or maybe change what you write for market fit?

Look, there’s always going to be a level of market consideration in any writing, as you need to create stories that are going to resonate with an audience if you ever want to generate sales and make money from your work. But should you abandon literary fiction as a result of the current state?

I would say that you should write what resonates with you, and what best reflects what makes you excited about literature, in the style that you feel best enables you to communicate what you want to say. If you write a story in a style that fits, as you want to tell it, then you’ll feel it as you’re writing. And when you come back to it later, and read what you’ve written, if it then still feels like what you wanted it to be, like something that you’d like to read, then that’s the right voice, the right style, and that’s how you get to the creative expression that best represents your perspective.

Basically, it’s easy to be negative, and if you do choose to take a negative view of things, you’ll find that there’s no end to the indicators that will reinforce that view. That literature is in trouble, that your opportunities are gone, that you have no chance of ever being published. There are far more reasons to avoid a literary career, and if you choose to see things from that perspective, every story like this will underline it even more.

But if you choose to remain true to your passion, to the writing that you love, to the stories that you want to tell, the characters, the settings, etc. If you stay true, then you’ll be on a better path to personal satisfaction and exploration, which, in all probability, is also more likely to reach an audience. 

It’s also worth noting that your personal perspective cannot be replicated. The way that you see things, the way you interpret them, no other person will view things the same, which means that they also can’t subsequently communicate things the way that you can. And if you can hit that resonant frequency, where all of these creative elements align, that’s where the truly great works come from. And you can’t do that without creating in the style that speaks to you.

So while the loss of another literary opportunity is disheartening, it’s not the end of all opportunities. And eventually, readers will come back around. Eventually, publishers and producers will once again realize the true value of great writing, which tools like AI can’t replace, and things will shift.

As a writer, I would advise that your job is to find the voice of your story, and explore that until you feel like you’ve got it right.  

establish the rules of your world

I hated the most recent Star Wars films. Not ‘Rogue One’ or ‘Solo’, those were fine, while I really liked ‘The Force Awakens.’ But ‘The Last Jedi’ is, in my opinion, one of the worst films of all time, based on what Rian Johnson had to work with, and what he created as a result.

It’s also the perfect example of the need for definitive rules in world-building, and establishing parameters for your story. It doesn’t matter if it’s a fantasy novel or sci fi, or whatever else, you need to have rules, otherwise there are no stakes.

Because if anything is possible, then nothing really matters.

‘The Last Jedi’ exemplifies this, because it breaks several major rules that have been long established in the Star Wars universe, most notably in regards to Jedi powers which don’t exist. 

Luke Skywalker can’t astral project himself across the galaxy. If Jedi are able to do that, why would they ever need to appear in person, and put themselves at risk? Why would they need holographic communications devices if they can somehow do even better, projecting themselves in even higher resolution, simply by meditating? 

Jedi can’t see, via some unknown form of connection, what another person is seeing. Because again, they surely would have used this by now, it would have surely been linked to the strength of their personal connections, and we’d have seen it happen in another context.

Princess Leia can’t fly through space.

Of course, people will argue that none of what happens in Star Wars is real, so they can write in anything they want. But this is the point I’m making – you need to establish the rules of your world, otherwise nothing matters, and all sense of emotional connection in the story is lost. 

Characters randomly coming back from the dead, things happening that are totally out of character, failing to establish a logical progression to explain a significant shift. These will all kill your story’s credibility, and lose your audience as a result. 

Things can’t just happen, and it’s up to you, as the writer, to establish the rules, and/or place the breadcrumbs to facilitate key happenings

self publishing

Another avenue to consider for writing, and one that’s now become a far more viable option, is self-publishing, and using platforms like Amazon to get your work out there, and into the hands of a reading audience.

And it’s easy to do. I self-published a novel a couple of years back, just to see how difficult it was, what the opportunities may be, etc.

It is pretty simple, and with new elements like AI image generators, creating a good-looking cover, and/or promotional content, is also easier than ever, giving you even more opportunity to create a book product that you can then sell and make money from.

The actual creation process (in terms of the book product, not the writing of the novel itself) is easy. But the real challenge with self-publishing lies in effective promotion, and raising awareness of your work.

Promotion and marketing is difficult in any context, and for most authors, who spend years alone in quiet rooms, plugging away at their novel, it’s pretty intimidating to go from that setting to speaking in front of a radio mic, or a room full of people.

It’s hard to do well, and can be a nerve-wracking experience. But you have to do it, in order to get people aware that you’ve actually written a book. Because if they don’t know, they can’t buy it, right?

Social media has made this a little easier, in that you can run social media ads, targeted to the right readers, while you can also build your own social media presence to help promote your work. But this is also both expensive and time-consuming. And again, it runs counter to the personality type of most writers.

Do you really want to be posting an Instagram Story every day, in order to maintain awareness, when you’d rather be writing?

This is why traditional publishing is a better route, for those that are able to take it, because publishing houses have their own PR teams and media connections that will get that coverage for you. Then you just have to show up and speak. When you’re self-publishing, the chances of you getting anywhere near that coverage is nil, and without that initial step of actual awareness, you’re not going to generate enough sales to make any money from your self-published work.

Which is the prime challenge. Self-publishing is not just creation, it’s promotion, and you need to come up with a plan for how you’re going to get people – many people – aware that you’ve published a new book.

That’s not easy, and without a few thousand dollars in marketing budget, it’s probably not going to be the savior approach that some suggest.

You also have to write something that resonates with an audience, and like traditional publishing shifts, literary fiction is not a big seller for Amazon readers.

On Amazon, for example, romance, fantasy, mystery/thriller, and science fiction sell the best, along with self-help, while ‘romantasy’ is a rising focus. If you’re writing in these genres, then you may have a better opportunity for discovery, and I would recommend checking in with the top sellers, and learning from their success, in order to better inform your approach.

But that also means refining your personal style and approach to align with what works, which may not be how you want to go about it. In which case, you better get happy with selling a few copies to your friends and family, and not much else.

There’s also been much talk about the ‘creator economy,’ and the opportunities of social media and video platforms, which enable anybody to explore their passions and generate income from their work. The only note I would advise on this is that while you do now have more platforms through which to find an audience, 96% of all online creators earn less than $100k per year.

Most people are not making money online, or they’re not making enough to live on, and if you’re dreaming of becoming a full-time writer, the opportunities of self-publishing may not be enough to sustain that goal.

Though it depends on your approach, it depends on your targeting, how flexible you’re willing to be, how good you are at what you do, and how many people you can get to talk about your books.

Maybe, if you reach the right influencers who say the right, positive things about your books, you’ll make some big sales, and you can use that as a platform for larger success.

But then again, self-publishing platforms are also increasingly being flooded with AI-generated content, which is diluting reader trust, and will impact overall sales.

Basically, what I’m saying is that self-publishing, as a process, is easy, but self-promotion, for most writers, is very hard, and getting attention in an increasingly crowded pool of content is challenging.

So if you are going to self-publish, you need to put a lot of focus on your promotional plan, and maybe start by cultivating a targeted social media following, that’s interested in the genre you write in, before you consider publishing.

adverbs

If there was one single note of craft advice I could highlight to all writers, it would be this:

‘Avoid abstracts. No silly adverbs like sleepily, irritably, sadly, please.’

This is from Chuck Palahniuk, the author of Fight Club. And while I don’t intend for this to be an endorsement of all of Palahniuk’s writing (I love Fight Club, Survivor and Invisible Monsters, not so much his later stuff), it’s one of the best tips for writers in leaning into the ‘show don’t tell’ mindset.

Because a lot of people have trouble understanding what ‘show don’t tell’ actually means. This rule forces you to apply it. 

So, rather than saying ‘he moved quickly,’ you’re going to have to come up with a description to add color to that term.

‘He moved like a snake lunging towards its prey.’ Depending on the movement, this would be a more specific, more visceral, and more engaging description that better captures the actual action or scene.

I hate reading bad adverbs. Quickly, rapidly, speedily. Harshly, roughly, leisurely. All of these can be written better, and can help to build the story through creative, mentally engaging, descriptive means.

Adverbs are lazy. I mean, not all of them, and you are going to have to use some. Also, simplicity often works best. But it is worth reviewing any adverbs that you’ve included, and to think about what you’re describing.

I’m willing to bet that in a lot of cases, you’ll come up with a better option.

kids fiction

Are we taking the right approach in teaching kids to read, and fostering a literary and reading culture among children?

According to the stats, kids books continue to sell well, and there are a broad range of popular titles and celebrity-assigned kids’ book series that appeal to both parents and children alike. And it makes sense that kids books would sell, because parents are keen to encourage healthy behaviors like reading, so they’re more than willing to buy books to encourage kids to read.

But, at the same time, most of these titles would hardly qualify as reading, nor teaching kids an appreciation of books.

The ‘Dog Man’ series is a set of very basic comic strips in book form, and while the books average about 250 pages each, they only include about 4k words across those pages. The ‘Treehouse’ series is a joke book written by adults for kids, while Ahn Do’s kids books are simplified cliches. Many of these titles aren’t creative nor educational, yet they sell a heap, because they’re cool, and kids feel good saying that they read books, which then gains the approval of adults.

But are they really learning to read? Is this really beneficial?

I don’t know, it feels like we’re missing the point, and that the authors are often capitalizing on market trends, as opposed to contributing to broader literary education.

But then again, the counterargument would be that any reading is a positive, and kids wouldn’t bother reading at all if they didn’t have simple books like this that they can latch onto. And maybe, the very act of sitting down with a book is a positive step for literary culture in itself. But it just feels like there should be more responsibility among kids book authors to encourage increasingly complex literary trends, as opposed to making up fart jokes and pretending that they’re champions of education.

I don’t know, there’s no simple answer I guess, but we seem to be too accepting of these types of books as guides for our youngsters, when they’re likely not benefiting anyone other than the publishers of such.

Maybe I’m missing some critical link between these simple books and expanded comprehension in book form, but it seems to me like we should be more wary of what content we’re providing to our kids.

novel influence

We vastly underrate the value of stories, and the contributions that they make to society.

Creative writing, like all arts, is often seen as an expendable funding element, and among the first option when it comes to, say, funding cuts by government bodies.

“Why should our taxes pay for this guy to sit at home and make up stories?”

I know the arguments, and anyone in any creative industry has felt the impacts of such in action. But this perspective doesn’t account for the transformative power of storytelling, and the ways in which writing, painting, music, and every other form of creative pursuit can influence the way that we live.

Put simply, novels are the closest that you will ever get to experiencing the world through somebody else’s eyes.

On the surface, that may not seem like a major thing, but in all of human history, it’s stories that have changed minds, more than anything else, be it in books, movies, short videos on YouTube, etc.

This is why literature is inherently political, because in the telling of stories from varied perspectives, we highlight how people live, and how they experience the world. And that can then sway opinions on social topics, though at the same time, I don’t believe that art should be overtly political in this respect, with a specific aim of reinforcing a political point, or underlining a topical stance.

Artists have a responsibility to the work itself, and nothing else. You could argue that they also have a responsibility to their readers, in ensuring that they remain true to the world that they’ve created, but I would say that this is part and parcel of the first consideration, that in order to create a resonant art work, you need to remain committed to its creation, and stay true to the parameters within which it exists.

That’s where the truth comes from, in being honest about your characters and the situations that they inhabit, exploring the true nature of the work, then presenting that to an audience. It doesn’t have to be ‘good guys versus bad guys,’ it doesn’t have to showcase a specific perspective. An artist should remain attached to the vision of the work, and explore that with a commitment to sharing the characters’ perspective, no matter what direction that may lead.

By presenting things as they are, whether it’s in fiction, non-fiction, in painting, or anything else, you’re then allowing the reader to engage with another perspective. And from that, they can decide how they feel about it.

And that choice is powerful. Depicting rich aristocrats, for example, doesn’t need to be caricatures and clichés, which is the most obvious choice for a general audience, because an honest depiction of who they are, and how they live, will then inevitably also lead to sharing how they view the world, and why they do what they do.

And the reader can judge that for themself.

This is how art changes minds, and highlights society as it exists.

Even in science fiction, remaining true to the parameters of the world that you’ve created will inevitably lead to parallels that mirror real world thinking. The ‘why’ of the story is the driving force, and we read books to get a better sense of why characters do the things that they do, which is influenced by where they come from, what they’ve seen, and how they’ve been treated.

This is how we learn more about the world around us through books, and in my opinion, no other medium is as immersive in sharing somebody else’s perspective as a novel.

The stories may be made up, but the human center of the best fiction is what will always connect us to it.

what AI can’t do

One of my favorite senitments at the moment is that ‘Hollywood is in trouble’ due to AI, with the suggestion being that AI video generators are soon going to enable a new wave of film creation, that will eventually see all kinds of regular folk building their own cinematic empires, because they can generate Hollywood level animation, or similar, with AI tools.

And definitely, AI tools are improving. Each week, there seems to be a new advance in AI video generation, and yes, at some stage, it does seem entirely feasible that you’ll be able to put together a competent, film-length project based on your idea.

But that’s the thing. Creation itself is only a part of the filmmaking journey, and it’s the writing part, in putting together a narrative that resonates with a wide audience, creating characters that work, scenes that pop, ideas that mesh, that’s not easy. And AI cannot, and will not be able to replicate that.

For example, you’ve likely seen those Pixar-style videos generated by AI tools, with people re-posting them saying things like ‘it’s so over’.

But do you know how long it takes the Pixar team to put together a story for one of their films?

Pixar generally has a team of 10 or more writers, some of the best, most experienced minds in the business, who spend several years on story development before it even gets to the storyboard/production phase.

Pixar, like all Disney projects, uses the Hero’s Journey model as its guiding light, which is a formula extrapolated from ‘The Hero with a Thousand Faces’ monomyth structure, and is based on storytelling approaches that have been developed all throughout human existence.

And again, it takes years for them to develop these stories, using the collective experience of a team of storytellers, in order to come up with a narrative that will hit all the emotional pay-offs to maximize resonance.

AI can’t do that for you, and while AI tools may be able to help you refine a script or idea, or even streamline the conversion of your concept into actual screenplay structure, they won’t be able to polish a poor idea to the point where it’ll become a hit.

As such, even if AI tools are able to fully generate the physical elements of movie, very, very few of the ideas that get churned through these tools are actually going to gain any significant audience.

Of course, some will, and there’s no doubt that AI tools will expand opportunities for creators, by giving more people more ways to showcase their ideas in different formats. But even within that, the same rules of creation will apply, which also means that very, very few projects are going to succeed.

If you want to create resonant stories, you’re better off learning about The Hero’s Journey, and applying that to your concepts, than you would be hoping that AI tools will be able to iron out the problems with your ideas.

Most story ideas are not good, most people who think they have a cool concept for a film haven’t done the research into how to create, and it shows in the final product. I mean, even a lot of films that do make it through to production aren’t that great, and they’ve been checked and okayed by a heap of people.

So while AI tools may give you a practical means to bring your ideas to life, they won’t cover for a lack of storytelling knowledge and/or skill.

You should read this book to learn more about The Hero’s Journey in action.

lit crit

One key piece of advice that my mentor Christos Tsiolkas gave me before the publication of my first novel was this:

‘Don’t ever reply to critics’

Christos said that people are going to say what they say, and definitely, some of it is going to annoy you. But there’s no good outcome if you respond, there’s nothing you can say that hasn’t been said in the novel itself, and you’re best to just let the work have a life of its own, and be happy with what you’ve produced.

I wonder if this still applies in the modern literary landscape, where audience engagement on social media is now such a big consideration, and where publishers actually want authors to have an active presence, and be more than their work.

Because these days, who the author is matters. Where the writer came from, their life and inspirations, what they stand for, what they represent, all of these things matter more than they used to. Topicality will get you more press coverage, or at least more opportunities for interviews and discussion, while taking a definitive stance is a big part of social media resonance more broadly, due to discussion stemming from your opinions, in agreement or not, which can prompt algorithmic boosts. The modern media landscape is much more politically driven, and if you can play into that, you’ll get more coverage and awareness.

So maybe, you should respond to critics, or at least the ones who question who you are, using that as an opportunity to communicate your own stances and opinions. That could actually be a positive, but it is interesting to consider the shift in this respect.

For a lot of my favorite authors, I would have no idea who they are, beyond their work. Amy Hempel is my favorite writer, and I can’t say that I know anything much about her personal life, except that she likes dogs. Cormac McCarthy lived a fairly quiet life, though there are questionable elements of his personal history. But I have no clue what his political stances might be. I assume had he published Blood Meridian in 2025, we’d know much more about him, and that may have even tainted his legacy (if, of course, Blood Meridian would even make it to print these days).

It’s interesting to consider the shift in the way that the media handles people who come to public attention, from writers to actors and everybody else, and how we now know so much more about who they are, and what they care about, than we did in the past.

Is that a better way to approach creative talent? Do we need to know more beyond their work?

In some ways, yes. It’s good to know, for example, that J.K. Rowling has some disagreeable stances, though that does also make me a little more hesitant about supporting her work. 

Is that the way that it should be, that external factors sway how we feel about their output?

Ideally, we should probably seek to judge all creative output on its merits alone, and how well the artist has expressed their vision. That would be the most pure assessment of art. 

But that would also mean overlooking certain things in favor of the end result, ignoring ugly truths in favor of beautiful creations.

And that’s the way of the past, in the pre-internet era, in which predators could go unchecked for years because of their talent, and it was easier to obscure such from the public.

That’s not a good outcome either, but judging artists on anything other than the work itself also feels unfair, and could mean overlooking merit.

But in the social media era, this is more important than ever.

But if having the “wrong” opinions could kill your career, that also means that we may well be missing out on some of the best, most impactful work.

Either way, it’s another consideration in your broader literary journey, and how you maximize your opportunities.

horror fiction

I’ve been reading a bit of horror fiction of late, which I was guided towards via BookTok trends on TikTok.

TikTok is now one of the biggest influences of book sales, with trending titles getting big sales boosts, simply by catching on with the right creators. 

So maybe there’s something to it, and my thought process was that maybe I could learn what people are reading, and maybe that might resonate with my own work.

I also came to horror fiction via Jeff VenderMeer’s ‘Annihilation,’ which is a book that I love. Annihilation, the novel, is very different from the movie that Alex Garland made back in 2018, and the book has a whole lot more depth and structural resonance, based on literary devices, not on CGI creatures. 

I also love the way that it was crafted. VanderMeer says the idea came to him in a dream, and it definitely has that raw, unhinged creative feel to it, while also being tied back to a traditional Hero’s Journey model. 

So I decided to read horror fiction, based on recommendations on TikTok and the results have been…

Well, not great.

A lot of horror stories don’t work for me because they focus on the freaky elements, and not on the story and logic behind what’s happening. You see this in horror movies as well, some weird thing happens, and rather than offering explanation and resolution, you get ‘demon possession.’ The devil possessed them so anything can happen, which is really annoying for anybody that’s looking for a complete story, and a logic within the setting of the narrative.

If demon possession covers everything from heads exploding to people flying, then where’s the tension? And if there are no constraints, then where’s the consequence? I just can’t go with it when you explain away everything as ‘unexplainable,’ because it’s too open-ended to have any emotional pay off.

And so many horror novels are just badly written. They focus on the horror elements, the gore and violence, and everything else is just cliche. The bad guys are clearly bad, because they do bad things, then they get eaten by the monster and you don’t feel anything much about it. The good people are kind and caring and infallible. To me, that’s not how you write a compelling narrative.

But it is interesting to consider from a broader literary industry perspective, with respect to what’s selling at present.

Do you know which chain is the biggest book seller in Australia right now? It’s Big W, and Big W’s book section is primarily focused on cliche-ridden pulp fiction, with limited depth and far too familiar stories.

But that’s what readers are buying, and maybe, then, that’s what writers should be looking to write, if they want to actually sell their work. 

What BookTok recommendations have shown me is that cliches still work, and basic story structures still resonate. And maybe, given changes in reading habits, these are the only readers buying enough to sustain authors at present.