Genre Changing (Plus Ca Change)

Genre is a funny thing. Authors hate it; publishers love it. No one wants to be pigeonholed as just another brit-lit, urban noir or body horror writer, but at the same time, a truly original book is almost impossible to sell. It's easier to tell everybody it's a cross between Harry Potter and the Jungle Book than it is to say 'well, its a psychological study of how people interact with other people that somehow transcends genre'. That's a bit like describing the Rolling Stones as producing 'the kind of music where notes are played, often on instruments, in some kind of predefined order'. It's accurate, but if I'm trying to decide between this and Daft Punk at the over 70s disco, it may lead to a kerfuffle. Possibly even a rumpus.

The point is that categories, despite their flaws, are necessary. Fair enough, lumping Terry Pratchett, Piers Anthony and Robert Asprin into the same 'comedy fantasy' category lacks a certain finesse. You might as well define your favourite foods as 'the one's that are green'. At least we have a vague idea where we're starting from, though. We're not expecting to find Shaun Hutson and Stephenie Meyer in the same section, despite their surface similarities, and I think it's reasonably sensible to lump books into the broad categories of crime, romance, horror or sci-fi.

The problem comes when publishers decide that being in a genre is what sells books. Certainly, reaching the top of the charts for a niche genre is much more achievable than being a best selling contemporary fiction book. As a result, it seems they've entered into a friendly competition to see who can come up with the most ludicrously unlikely genre title and still have it taken seriously. The latest contender is grip-lit. This, it appears, refers to literature which is gripping. As to opposed to the deathly dull books that we normally prefer to read. I'm glad we finally have a name for it.

But no, apparently this genre is more specific than just being a book that makes you want to read it. Apparently, this rhyming couplet of a genre refers to psychological thrillers. The more astute of you may suspect we already have a name for that. But, apparently 'pyschological thriller' is out, 'grip-lit' is in. Thank goodness – the publishing industry in saved.

This has been going on for a while now. When the likes of Lisa Jewell and Helen Fielding hit the scene, we got chick-lit. Then Nick Hornby came along and we got lad-lit. For a while, tales of widower fathers struggling to find love while raising a child came along and we had dad-lit. It looked like we were on a journey to find a genre that precisely described one book, and would lead to very sparsely populated library shelves.

Fortunately, grip-lit has set us back on the course to find a term so generic it can be used in any marketing material with minimal impact on meaning.

And has this changed the way we read books. Absolutely not. Call them what you like, we still like to read what our mate recommended down the pub, or what's at the top of Richard and Judy's book club list.

But if we are going to carry on defining genres, can I suggest one for books by blokes called Richard who tend to write on the train, have two children and live in Essex.

I bet I could top that list.