Popularity is perplexing. In the world of publishing, there’s a great paradox. One author writes an objectively "good book" that is hailed as an artistic tour de force. Their lyrical prose employs an impressive vocabulary and a plethora of French phrases written in italics. The deeply moving story unearths signs of hope in the midst of tragedy. Yet, sales are dismal. The author wallows hopelessly amidst their own tragedy.
They are especially irked when they read about another author profiled in their local newspaper. She wrote a vampire novel for sexually repressed librarians. This book went viral. Is it a conspiracy? Perhaps a secret consortium of librarians slipped copies of the book into the hands of patrons while intoning a Latin phrase.
“Stultitiam spargimus”.
The truth of the matter is this: Quality alone does not succeed. While good writing can be part of the reason a book takes off, ultimately a book is a social artifact. Breakout books don’t just tell a good story, they play a social game.
⋙ Attack the Periphery
We can find the recipe for writing a breakout success by studying Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Yes, I’m saying that writing is a lot like grappling with a sweaty, muscled body and tackling it to the ground. The BJJ coach Greg Souders describes the sport as a game of immobilization, but how does an athlete achieve this?
We attack the periphery to get access to the center mass.
— Greg Souders
In Jiu-Jitsu the periphery means the arms, legs, and head. The body, shoulders, and hips, that’s the center mass. You don’t tackle your opponent like a linebacker. Take hold of their hands and feet, and work your way closer and closer to the body.
That’s the trick. Don’t target everyone in the room that you want to impress, that’s a direct attack on the center mass. Instead, target the edges where the intimate conversations start, the periphery. Social systems are structured around communication, and books spread through conversations—not because a self-selected cadre of gatekeepers approve. Remember a couple years ago when Wired magazine profiled Brandon Sanderson? The editor was befuddled by Sanderson’s success, flipping through the pages of his novels searching for the best examples of bad prose. (Personally, I get thrown off every time Sanderson mentions “booted feet”.) That article missed the point, the fans and evangelists.
Meritocracy misses how culture survives and thrives. Infinite Jest isn’t so well known because it meets an ideal of perfect prose. Most copies stand on shelves unread and unknockdownable. The book is celebrated because it is so complex and impenetrable it has risen to the heights of Mount Everest as an Instagram destination—a dinner party anecdote. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good book… I hear it’s a good book.
Cultural impact starts with the niches. Whatever audience you’re writing for, don’t sashay into the center of the dance floor. Instead charm one reader who catches your eye and invite them to tango.
⋙ The Identity Game
A truly good book becomes part of a reader’s identity. Not every reader, but the select few for whom it scratches an itch.
The book filters for the right audience
It captures their attention so they finish reading
Then it can convert them into fans or evangelists
Filter, capture, and convert. This is how a story starts a conversation.
The cover, the blurb, the first sentence, and opening chapters give readers a signal that says, “This book was written for you.” If it transforms that reader into an evangelist, that’s when the buzz begins. While a fan will identify with a book and build bridges with other fans, the evangelist has a fundamental needful craving to create more fans. They want to see other people experience the transformation they themselves underwent. They are the people who watch react videos.
That peripheral audience is the gateway the book needs to target. Those readers become the access point that leads to the central mass. A fully converted audience evangelizes the book, generates momentum, and tips the book further toward the mainstream.
E.L. James wrote for a specific weird niche, not the mainstream audience that purchased 150 million copies of her book. By the time the movie adaptations were made, devout religious housewives were sneaking into theaters to watch their first R-rated movie. Shock! That niche created social energy that propelled the book into the mainstream, and even allowed the story to ripple back out to new peripheries.
Not convinced, yet? Did you ever hear the fate of the movie, The Room? That movie became popular not in spite of being bad, but because it was so bad. It became a cultural phenomenon through the efforts of a niche audience celebrating their own ironic appreciation. The movie’s success was about a community it built, not its quality.
Most writers aim for the center of their target: the mainstream, a genre, or even a specific subgenre that captivates them. This rarely works. Whatever the target, shoot for the edges, not the bullseye.
Writers become breakout authors because they delighted a small group of early adopters who went on to recommend and defend the book to the world. That’s why a specific premise will outperform a more generic one. Good books don’t stand on merit alone—they stand out in the crowd.
Stories connect people. If books didn’t perform that social function, they wouldn’t exist. Literature as a social system would die out.
⋙ Write to Delight
So what’s the action here? Don’t worry about some isolated measure of good or bad writing. The real game being played is social. Write for living, breathing readers and give them something to talk about.
Who will stay up until 3 AM reading your book?
Where can you find them online (or off)?
Which stories do they already love?
What gap can you fill?
How can you get them talking?
Make that specific reader feel seen and they will text three friends, and those friends will turn the book into a movement precisely because you didn't water down your vision and instead crafted something finely tuned to their particular tingles. Do that, and your initial enamored audience will become your book’s champions.
Start at the periphery. Lock it down. The core will follow.
This Week’s Streak Saver 🪦
Now that you’ve read all about the social game, let’s practice targeting readers. But not your readers. What fun would that be? Instead, let’s target your haters.
⋙ The Anti-Blurb
Setup: Think of a book you might want to write someday.
Goal: Practice filtering by slyly repelling the readers who would hate your book.
Constraints:
Include clear warnings about what the book isn't
Focus on the specific experience the reader will hate
Stop when you think you’ve definitely lost them
Reflection (after writing): What readers did you deliberately discourage? Do you think this blurb would also select for the right readers?