Brooklyn, NY—Danny Mancuso doesn’t care you don’t get it. 

 

At least that’s what he’s telling agents who reject him. With five novels in his belt and three in the works, Danny hasn’t sold a single copy. But he still swears he’s right. “Look, my books are cool,” he said while frothing non-fat milk at his job at the Silly Bean. “They don’t need to be sci-fi or fantasy or a romance for cool people to get it. I’m my own genre.” 

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Industry wisdom tells authors that if they don’t know where their book sits on a bookstore shelf then it’ll never sell. But a few authors, like Danny, write in what is called ‘contemporary fiction’ a meaningless, catch-all term that only book reviewers use for Pulitzer candidates. 

 

“Danny’s an idiot.” Saul Basinger owns Golden Lights Books, an indie bookstore near SoHo. He thinks Danny and authors like him should just suck it up. ”Readers like genres. They want to know what they’re about to read. Is it a thriller? A scary horror? They don’t want to just roll the dice and be surprised. Readers want to know what experience to expect. A happily-ever-after, a villain vanquished, a mystery solved. You don’t go to a theater and just willy-nilly pick a movie to watch. Only crazy people do that. And crazy people get their books from the library.” 

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Jill Solomon of Solomon Media agreed. “Danny is an idiot. I get coffee where Danny works. Danny’s the one who burns your milk.” Solomon represents over fifty best-selling authors. “First thing I look for in a query is genre. Second thing I look for is if it’s a salable genre. Third thing, bankability. I’m all for rebel creativity as long as it can be confined into a length-friendly story with a compelling cover incorporating a blurb or two extorted from my other famous clients. Authors like Danny are why I don't look at slush anymore.” 

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Danny is not phased by this criticism. “They think they know,” he said, still frothing the same milk. The smell of burning lingered in the air. “Just 'cause they’re in power. For now. These are the same losers who want safe books. But art isn't safe. I’ll work my entire life as a barista before I write a safe book. I don't need to sell to know I'm good.” When asked if he could describe the type of fiction he writes, Danny reached for a book hidden under the shelf. “Here. Read one and tell me. It's only $6.34. Oh, and trigger warning...f**k trigger warnings.” 

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He finished the latte and handed it to the customer who asked about his tattoos. He raised his forearm proudly. “This one I got to celebrate finishing my second novel.” She smiled. “Oh, you write fiction? What genre?”

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“The genre of life,” he said before waving to the next customer.