November 22, 2005
A few years back I was corresponding with author Larry Karp. Larry had been happily published by Write Way, which if you recall I had a contract with. Not all authors from WWP I corresponded with were happy with WWP, but Larry was. I reviewed one of his books. He wrote a series of mysteries about a physician (Larry is a retired physician) whose hobby was restoring and collecting antique music boxes (as is Larry's). The book I read was wonderful. Larry is a terrific writer and although I'm often frustrated by the "cozy mystery's" dependence on hooks of this type--music boxes, catering, wedding planning, house cleaning, house repair, etc.--Larry's was just quirky and exotic enough for me to finding it especially interesting. Larry's gone on to other things. I believe he's published by Poisoned Pen Press now and as far as I can tell is no longer writing about music boxes, although he might be. I received an ARC of his last book, and intended to read it, but by the time I sorted through other obligations it was too late--it happens despite my better motives.

Anyway, I was fumbling around with the Theo MacGreggor novels at the time, a character and type of book I was very comfortable writing. I mentioned to Larry that I was trying to write something bigger and bolder and more complicated and more challenging regarding biological terrorism and it required a lot of research and was probably outside my comfort zone. Larry commented that he knew where his comfort zone was and he was perfectly happy staying in it.

All well and good. Except that book I was talking about turned out to be The Devil's Pitchfork, the first of a two-book contract with Midnight Ink/Llewellyn Worldwide, and the start of what I sincerely hope will be a long and successful series. And yes, it was at that time outside my comfort zone and yes, clearly, it was worthwhile pushing my own creative envelope.

Generally, I think this is good. It's good in my professional non-fiction writing life, too, although there I find the that overreaching loses business, rather than just time. And when I talk about writing advertising copy or high-end technical writing for pharmaceutical or biotech companies, I think long and hard about exactly where my boundaries are and why. I'm reasonably certain I could write ad copy, but I doubt I could do it well, or happily. One reason is my attitudes about advertising are not positive, and two, I've realized with more than a hint of comedic rue, that advertising very often flies outside my personal radar.

We'll be watching TV and my wife will make a comment about some ad, "I like that ad," and although I was apparently facing the TV with my eyes open and an appropriately attentive yet glassy expression on my face, my brain shut off as soon as we went to ads.

More telling is I recently noted an ad where a daughter, mother and grandmother were preparing thanksgiving dinner and the daughter asked why the turkey had only one leg. The mother says it's tradition and gives the grandmother a look, and we get a flashback to how she couldn't fit the turkey in the pan, so she cut off the leg and wrote: Remove One Leg in the recipe. I was amused by this. And I later told my wife that I liked the ad. But ... what was it for? I have no freaking idea! I paid enough attention the second or third time around to note that it's an ad for some sort of gravy in a can, but I couldn't tell you the brand name.

I have a friend who used to work for Leo Burnette, the big ad agency in Chicago that has clients like McDonald's and Kellogg's and 7-Up and such. We visited him once and he took us into the office on the weekend. He was in their research department and he sat Leanne and I down to watch a mock-up of an ad for Frosted Flakes and then proceeded to ask us the questions he asked in focus groups. A moment later he gave me a "look," and said, "You're about on par with our 8-year-olds for how much you picked up in this ad."

Yeah, well, that hasn't changed much, I'm afraid. I've got an automatic shut-off when people try to sell me things.

As for the technical stuff, clearly I write a lot of technical things, but I do it by interviewing the experts and forcing them to explain things I don't understand. I don't think this would be the best approach to writing documentation for drugs. I could get somebody killed.

So in this respect, I'm being sensitive to what I believe are legitimate limits to my abilities and work within my comfort zone. Yet with fiction, I think it's good that writers try to push the boundaries of their creativity, to do more research, to write about things that aren't necessary in their backyards, to try forms they like but think will be too much work. At the very least, it'll improve the way they write within their comfort zones.

Best,
Mark Terry