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.