<p>Here’s another thought on how you might better evaluate a book project <em>before</em> you embark upon it and, potentially, waste vast amounts of time that could have been better spent on something worthwhile.</p>  <p>Who are you really writing this book for? Yourself? Or the person you think may want to buy it?</p> <!--more-->  <p>Commercial fiction – which is the only kind of fiction I know – works on a spirit of compromise. As a writer I try to produce something original and intelligent but I’m always aware it has to have the potential to be popular too. That’s not <em>just</em> because I earn my living this way. I like being read. I don’t want to write niche fiction, aimed at a tiny sliver of the public. Other people do, and that’s their prerogative – good luck to them. But I’m aiming at the more general audience of ‘people who like interesting books’. </p>  <p>So I’m always aware that there are areas I can’t go. I need to try to have a strong narrative to keep the reader engaged. I can’t go off into deeply esoteric corners and start quoting passages in Greek. Like most popular authors I’m an entertainer at heart. I need to keep the audience engaged.</p>  <p>There is, though, one huge pothole in this particular road. Where do you draw the line between chasing an audience and allowing them – or rather your expectations of them -- to dictate what you write? </p>  <p><em>The Cemetery of Secrets</em> is one of my most original pieces of work, still the favourite for some people. <a href="http://davidhewson.com/2010/03/03/not-so-great-expectations/" target="_blank">As I discussed</a> here, it came about in unusual circumstances – effectively when I was out of contract, writing for no one but myself. </p>  <p>If you’re an unpublished author you probably think that’s the worst place in the world. In some ways it may be. But in others… Take it from me, when you sign multiple book contracts, as I’ve done in the past, your focus narrows. You try to deliver what you think your publisher and readers want. Maybe you do that. Maybe you fail. Either way you’re not that lone hunter out on the plains, chasing down some unseen, unrecognised prey. You’re the guy who’s been paid a retainer and told, ‘Go fetch me one like the last one.’</p>  <p>This may work. But it is decidedly different. </p>  <p>So if you’re sitting there, an unpublished author or one who’s out of contract, thinking about a book-to-come here’s something to consider. Are you going to get the best book by chasing the market? Or by finding what it is that you <em>really</em> want to write?</p>  <p>I think you know what my answer would be. Some readers, God love them, always think they know what you should be writing. Occasionally they’ll squawk when you do something different. <em>Do not listen to them. </em></p>  <p>The way it runs is this. </p>  <p>When you write your first book they’ll say, ‘Love it – but can you do it again?’ </p>  <p>When you write your second they’ll say, ‘You can! Well done. But the third’s always difficult…’</p>  <p>When you write your third they’ll say, ‘Right. You are… er, consistent.’</p>  <p>And when you write your fourth they’ll mutter under their breath, ‘When is this guy going to get a life and do something <em>new?’</em></p>  <p>I’m not sure about the old saw that a writer should write for himself. That’s too narrow. We need a defined horizon. But it has to be <em>our </em>horizon, not someone else’s. If yours is being fixed by someone else’s expectations you could be heading for stormy waters.</p>