In Defense of Dan Brown

Dan Brown and his book The DaVinci Code has dominated conversation at writer's conventions since the blockbuster was released in 2003. Much of the conversation is centered around second guessing as to the safety of fledgling authors comparing their books to his. Much also is devoted to the quality of his writing. Somehow, Dan Brown has managed to become a literary Barry Manilow. Everyone was buying his product, making him extremely rich in the process, but now he's deemed lowly by people who have yet to be -- and likely never will be -- published themselves.

Granted, there isn't a huge amount of lyricism, character development or memorable turn of phrase, but the book has managed to do one thing brilliantly: take a topic familiar to few, dust it off and raise it from the basement of academia into the light of mainstream culture. That's an enormous undertaking. I'm sure there are those who would love to bottle that success and use it as they try to stem obesity, teen pregnancy or domestic abuse.

Last year, a friend of mine told me how Toni Morrison was named the most influential writer of the last 25 years. I respectfully disagree. I love me some Toni, but influential? No way. Especially, not up against the record of someone like Dan Brown. Here's why:

• Brown has sold more than 65 million copies of The DaVinci Code. Toni Morrison may have sold that many all together over decades. But let's suppose that Jazz has sold 25 million copies. I feel confident in asserting that at least 50 million of the copies sold by Brown actually have been read. And given that one copy of a good book may be passed around to five other people, that would be a total readership of 250 million. Even if readers made an admirable stab at Jazz, however, most likely abandoned it, unable to catch the wave of her lyricism. Frankly, when they have to work too hard, most readers give up. Based on their own abandonment of the book, I doubt these potential readers passed it on to anyone else. I've seen reviews in which Brown's work was called "an easy read" as if that equates to "an easy write" or even to poor writing. It's often is more difficult to construct prose that appeals to a sixth-grade sensibility as we are taught to do in journalism so that everyone can gain knowledge from the printed word. Influence hardly is possible if the reader is unable to decipher the prose.

• I don't recall driving by churches and seeing "Song of Solomon Deconstructed, 7 p.m. Sunday" on their marquees. The premise of The DaVinci Code was the hot topic of most book clubs, many churches and an awful l of water coolers for a long time. Song of Solomon may have made the reading list of a couple of African-American book clubs and college courses, but in my opinion, forced reading doesn't provide the maximum intellectual result.
  

• As important as some of the issues in Morrison' book Beloved are, The History Channel has never devoted a week of prime-time programming to its themes. Heck, I don't recall them giving up an hour. Yet the channel has packaged programming on a variety of themes from The DaVinci Code, including Mary Magdalene, the Templars Priory of Scion and Opus Dei; and decoding the alleged symbolism of the painter's Last Supper.

• The DaVinci Code also has had a huge economic impact. Aside from the staff who made the aforemenetioned History Channel programming, there are those who conduct tours to DaVinci Code sites in France and England and developers of games and myriad other licensed products. There are the dozens of books on related topics. In fact, I found it quite ungrateful of the authors of Holy Blood, Holy Grail to turn around and sue Dan Brown when he put their book back on the bestseller list. Aside from the staff of the feature film Beloved and the publishing house that released the book, I can't think of any great economic boon generated by Toni Morrison books.
  

We should be careful as we throw around words like "good writing" and "influence." Especially those who live in glass houses.

Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery

It comes as no surprise that almost everyone who hears the premise to my thriller, The Nubian Codex, compares it to Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code. I deliberately wrote it that way, carefully deconstructing the elements that make up his writing. The jury appears to be out on whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Let me first say that my choice of modeling The DaVinci Code was practical. I have friends who say they write for art or for themselves. I say, "Hogwash!" I don't need to write for myself because I know what I think. And art, including communications, are useless pursuits unless I am able to persuade someone on the other end to receive my message. In addition, I have been paid -- quite handsomely, I might add -- for my writing, so it now has a distinct monetary value. In short, I will not engage in any writing endeavor that does not promise a tangible payoff in the end.

That said, my husband Jeff Brailey returned last week from the Pike's Peak Writers' Conference, and said that whatever I do, my logline -- the Hollywood-style motto that accompanies my book -- should not include The DaVinci Code. That sentiment was echoed by Charles Salzberg, my team leader this past weekend at the Algonkian Pitch Conference, even though my classmates agreed that it sounded much like Dan Brown's book. The next day, Stacey Creamer from Berkley immediately went to that place and said she was suprised I didn't invoke Dan Brown's bestselling novel. That led to a short discussion at the end of which she shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't see why not; everyone else does it."

I would propose a new perspective on the matter. Dan Brown certainly must be credited for bringing a new approach to the thriller. However, the cinematic approach, easy read and complex subject matter are hardly new. Though his subject matter was more technical than historical, Michael Crichton's Jurassic Park was written much the same way. I think we should view Dan Brown's work as a sub-genre. Just as there are medical thrillers, legal thrillers and psychological thrillers, this could open a realm of the intelligent thriller. Of course, several books of this nature have been published since The DaVinci Code, but I get the impression these are considered more isolated volumes than an actual sub-genre. But every genre must get its start somewhere. I'm sure the there have been times that thrillers of various genres have been overexposed, especially upon the introduction of the first. And as with any genre or sub-genre, there's no reason to believe it will be rejected by the public unless it it poorly constructed and/or poorly written.

The Nubian Codex shares some similarities in form but certainly not in subject matter. My thriller in the end resembles Dan Brown's about as much as his resembles Jurassic Park. Still, there are worse books to which it could be compared.

The Word on Algonkian

Today I returned from the 2007 Algonkian Pitch Conference, which was a success. Two editors from Penguin's Berkley imprint were interested in reading The Nubian Codex. This, however, is just a first step that means someone who can make a decision is willing to take the time to read the manuscript. There's no guarantee they'll like it.

It was a bit different than I had imagined, even after thoroughly reading the testimonials on the Algonkian web site. There were 17 people from all over the United States in the group. Most were writers of thrillers, but there was one who had a cozy - the Jessica Fletcher with tea and a cat sort of mystery - as well as a couple whose genre was para-normal/supernatural. As I mentioned before, we had to write in advance a pitch based on our books and modeled after jackets from books that have been successful in their genre. I was luckier than most in the initial assessment of our pitches by team leader Charles Salzberg. I, of course, also made the mistake of going first. But all's well that ends well, and I had a successful pitch by Saturday. By the way, my pitch had changed by about 25 percent.

We became a cohesive group that had a vested interest in one another's success. There were some real characters, however. I think everyone's favorite was Erika Karres, a North Carolina transplant from Germany. This uninhibited woman latched on to me almost the moment I walked in the room. Reminiscent of Dr. Ruth, the sex expert, Dr. Erika actually is a nationally respected authority on school violence. The author of several non-fiction books, Dr. Erika pitched a hilarious book about a contest among terrorists in which the prize was "a pill-popping slut" and an "embittered virgin." We got a lot of laughs from this, but the editors seemed to take her relatively seriously. And Dr. Erika was nothing less than encouraging and nurturing.

Another favorite was "Ophelia," whose all-black attire, platinum blond hair and funky glasses could easily cause anyone to mistake her for a New York editor. She, in fact, was a Columbus, Ohio, homemaker/writer who has an intercontinental commuter marriage with a man who is a math instructor at a technical school in Zurich, Switzerland.

Ophelia and some of the others shared their challenge of getting into the conference. Though the web site alluded to a selection process, I thought they pretty much would take everyone who applied. But several attendees shared that they had to apply more than once to get in. Because this is a relatively new conference, we figure it's probably easier to get in right now, but as it gains in reputation, it probably will become more challenging.

My only complaints are that the editors all basically came from one publishing house, and some were not appropriate for our genre. One agent, for instance, represented cozies, and almost all of us wrote thrillers, making our pitch to her an exercise in futility.

The writers pitched all sorts of books. One had a thriller built from her own fears of getting lost. Another wrote a post-Cold War thriller. Yet another wrote a high-tech thriller about the pharmaceuticals industry. They all sounded like interesting premises.