I finished the initial draft of my space librarians book, a cause for celebration and — because it’s me –massive overthinking. At the start of writing I was determined to resist the usual temptation to rush the pacing. So I took my time establishing the setting and the premise, introducing characters and the places they were traveling in a nice, leisurely fashion (at least by my measures). It wasn’t till the end of the second chapter that I introduced the true inciting incident. I was feeling quite optimistic that this would be a nice hefty novel, as is the norm for a lot of sci-fi nowadays.
Then I found the main conflict winding up around 73,000 words. That is not long. That is short for YA sci-fi, let alone adult. I pressed on and wrote another few chapters to wrap up all the plotlines, finishing at 85,000. Better, but still short compared to the average SFF novel.
So? Why does word count matter? Well, in an ideal world there’s only question that matters. What is the length that serves this particular story the best? If it’s well-paced, complete and satisfying at 85,000, that should be fine. Forcing it to be longer would only detract from its quality. Similarly, if a story needs 200,000 words to be properly told, let it be 200,000 words.
Alas, here we are in a less-than-ideal world. The first problem is that I don’t know whether my books are the right length, and seeing the average length of books of a similar genre makes me second guess every choice. That’s where beta readers come in handy, of course. I might be too close to my story to make an objective decision about what needs to stay, what’s missing, what needs to go. Let others read it and give their opinions. Read it again after some time has passed, and see if it still feels the right length or not.
The second problem is more slippery. Who cares about word count? Readers count pages, not words, though they will often judge a book by its thickness, for better or worse. For technical purposes word count is a more accurate measurement because it doesn’t change from hardcover to paperback format or depend upon font size. Which brings us to the publishing industry. They need to make a judgment call about whether to invest in a book or not, and how much to invest, and how successful they anticipate it will be. Its length is one feature of many that goes into that decision-making process. And naturally they would compare successfully-published books and all the pertinent trends to a new potential book. If it looks like a particular genre is having lots of success with shorter books, they’ll lean that way. If longer, then the opposite. The cost of paper isn’t the most prohibitive expense of publishing, but it does matter to a certain degree. And lengthier books do require more skilled labor, from many members of the team. This process trickles down from publishing houses to editors to literary agents. All of them want to know the word count before investing time or money into a book.
That said, it’s not completely rigid. A unusually massive word count might give an agent pause, but it doesn’t guarantee an automatic pass. There are plenty of successful exceptions in the publishing world that make a case for shorter books, even novellas. If the writing and premise are truly spectacular and unique, word count isn’t a dealbreaker. And if the writer’s already a bestseller, they can do pretty much whatever they want. (See: Brandon Sanderson).
When you’re crafting a query letter, though, every detail you include feels like it might be a dealbreaker. The title, the genre, the comp novels, the word count — any or all of those facts could make the difference between an agent requesting to read the manuscript or sending another form rejection. So I fret and worry and scrutinize my book for a way to expand it naturally. This isn’t the first time I’ve come up shorter than expected. It seems I’m inclined toward shorter novels, though I’ve written a few over 100,000 words. Other writers, like my husband, are inclined in the other direction and worry that their manuscripts are overlong. I try not to judge myself as less writerly because I have the opposite problem. At the end of the day all I can do is write the books I want to write, and make them the best they can be, long or short. And hope that their quality shines through for someone in the publishing world.
cynthiaailshie 