New York and California. Like Clockwork…

I have a theory about writers that is based on no facts whatsoever, just my own observations.

This theory is about the major difference between female and male writers. It has nothing to do with writing style, as women and men can both be amazing writers in whatever genre they so choose. The main difference I speak of all has to do with the second novel.

When American women write their first novel, they usually are living in some state in the middle. They live somewhere that most people usually fly over. A quick check of a whole lot of dust jackets reveals a whole lot of, “So and So was born and raised in North Carolina/South Dakota/Southern Florida/Illinois.”

When the first novel hits, and hits huge, and suddenly the bank account looks delicious and all of the major literary papers are banging down the door, all of those female writers will move to New York City. Their second novel will inevitably be set in New York, and be all about New York as the city it is. Women love New York City. The dust jackets will change to, “So and So was born and raised in Carolina/South Dakota/Southern Florida/Illinois. She now resides in New York City.”

Like poorly researched clockwork.

With men it’s much the same. They come from the middle, they hammer out of the first novel on some old laptop in the back rooms of the car washes they work at in Kentucky. The dust jackets all talk about a life in somewhere that is famous for a maximum three things, and one of those things is a “World’s Largest.” When those authors hit it big, their first novel becomes a sensation, and the pay checks have started rolling in laden with spendable income and potential, they will immediately pack up the bags and head to Los Angeles. Their second novel with inevitably be set in and about Los Angeles, and the city that it is.

The dust jackets will now read, “Joe Dude grew up in Idaho and attended some university, he now lives in Los Angeles.”

The dust jackets usually omit the part where they say Joe Dude is trying to hammer out the screenplay of his or her novel between working on The Great Californian Second Book. A screenplay which will suck and later give birth to a shitty movie, which will provide nothing but content for the second book.

“It’s just going to be about how like, fake L.A. is, man.”

Like clockwork.


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