March 03, 2018

‘Journalistic Nonfiction’ from Audible.com?

Whatever happened to creative nonfiction? Or narrative nonfiction? Or literary journalism? Or new journalism, or long-form nonfiction?

I ask because I recently received a very unusual e-mail blast from Audible.com about a series of “obsessively specific categories” of literature called “Micro Genres.” And the one that caught my eye right away was “Journalistic Nonfiction.” To be honest, it took me by surprise. What were they talking about?

The definition they use for “Journalistic Nonfiction” works—in a way.

“A great piece of nonfiction can be as riveting, and in many ways even more captivating, than any fictionalized thriller. The books on this list, and their authors, are completely steeped in real life. Each is an example of “immersion journalism” in a full-length book – where a writer follows a subject or theme for a long period of time (weeks or months) and details an individual’s experiences from a deeply personal perspective.”

And the dozen or so books in the Journalistic Nonfiction Micro Genre category are good reads—stuff by Jon Krakuer, Truman Capote, Rebecca Skloot, Sheri Fink, Katherine Boo and Mark Twain.

But why “Journalistic Nonfiction?” Isn’t all journalism nonfiction? Are Fiction Journalism and Poetry Journalism Micro Genres upcoming? I hope not.

Twenty-four years ago, when I founded Creative Nonfiction, first as a journal and then, later, as a literary magazine, there was an ongoing debate about what to call this evolving “true story” genre. It was not then universally called creative nonfiction; in fact, it had no name. Or, to put it another way, it had many names, in addition to “the new journalism,” first named and practiced by Tom Wolfe, Joan Didion and Gay Talese, among many others. And there were other labels: literary journalism, narrative nonfiction, the new nonfiction, the nonfiction novel, which was how Truman Capote described In Cold Blood. And The New Yorker called the narrative nonfiction it published, “the literature of fact.”

But it was all the same thing, more or less: true stories of various lengths, centering on any subject imaginable—sports, science, celebrity, technology. Eventually, most of us writing true stories in one way or another settled on the umbrella term creative nonfiction, which includes the immersion work Audible.com refers to, as well as memoir, personal essay, etc.

There are those few who continue to refer to the true stories they write, edit, publish and teach, by other labels. But today, hundreds of writing programs across the country—and the world—and organizations like the National Endowment for the Arts and the Associated Writing Programs, have endorsed the “creative nonfiction” label. There are creative nonfiction essay and book prizes and countless magazines and publishers soliciting submissions and publishing creative nonfiction. It is pretty much the accepted term.

You’d think that Audible.com, owned by Amazon, would know this—and maybe they do. And maybe this is just a marketing ploy to attract more readers—or new readers—to buy creative nonfiction books. But really; “Journalistic Nonfiction?” Pretty silly.

Audible has created other micro genres, I should say. “Science Memoirs,” for example, another Audible Micro Genre. Does the means that there may be Engineer Memoir and Bricklayer Memoir Micro Genres in upcoming e-mail blasts?

And I have to admit that some of the “obsessively specific” Micro Genres are rather clever and unique, although also kind of silly. Like Handyman Romance (“He’ll repair your heart”) and Agrarian Fantasy (“Getting away from it all”) and Hockey Romance. (“Love on the Ice”). And there’s the Anti-Self Dev micro genre (“Be perfectly less-than-perfect”). Whatever that all means.

I am guessing that those marketers at Audible.com may have actually read the books (or reviews of the books) they are promoting as Micro Genres. But maybe they should also be reading a bit of literary history,  or talking to the writers, editors and publishers of these books. Would those folks describe their work as “journalistic nonfiction?” Not unless, of course, they were joking.

It deserves a good laugh.