Your So-Called Target Reader May Not Exist

We can’t always put readers in boxes and slap labels on them

Photo by Austrian National Library on Unsplash

I was speaking with a PR professional recently, recounting many of the steps I’d taken to market my new novel, Tent City. She then asked: “Who is your target market?”

Reader, in that instant, I recognized how much my thinking on this topic has changed over the last several years.

In the past, I would have thought, “Oh, wow! What a profound question! I need to define my target market if I want this book to succeed!”

Old Me would have envisioned a hypothetical reader who went searching for books “just like” Tent City (whatever that’s supposed to mean). And I would have longed to find that “target”—and to stalk her (politely). Hang out at her coffee shop. Befriend her online. And do other borderline-creepy stuff.

Old Me would also have thought that finding my target reader would be like finding the pot of gold hidden at the end of the rainbow: Find the reader, find the sales, and live happily ever after as a successful author.

Well, I don’t buy this logic—if you can call it that—at all, anymore.

I now believe there is a meaningful distinction between a target reader and an ideal reader: they are not the same thing. More on that in a moment.

I also believe there are target readers for definable, hard-core genre fiction books. For example, target readers obviously exist for erotica, gore, ice hockey romance, classic detective stories, steampunk sci-fi, and so forth. Highly specific genres tend to cater to highly specific readers who know what they like and they’ll read books in that vein over and over. (There are target readers for nonfiction too, such as military history.)

Books like Tent City, on the other hand, fall into a much broader, more amorphous category. Let’s call it adult contemporary upmarket fiction with a realistic bent.

That cover a lot of titles and a lot of different kinds of readers. I don’t think there’s an easily definable target for a book like this. That doesn’t mean the book itself isn’t specific in its world-building; it absolutely is. But I’m not catering to a super-specific taste, unless you consider literary-commercial novels to be specific. (I do not.)

I could stretch the point and say that Tent City appeals to readers who like family sagas (I tried that while querying) or who gravitate toward speculative fiction with a social justice tinge (I tried that too).

But those aren’t target readers in an actionable sense. It’s great if the Amazon algorithm or something like it assigns comparative titles to my book’s listing (…if you like this, you’ll also like…), but that’s got little to do with real readers’ finicky tastes and everything to do with how the AI overlords operate these days.

I feel like Tent City is more of a mood read, as in, “I’m in the mood for a juicy, emotional story, even if it doesn’t end happily.” That’s not a target reader, is it? Or not one who can easily be found…?

Nor do I think that target readers can be consistently identified by age, gender, race, or nationality. I’m a white woman who has devoured books featuring Black protagonists. I’m an American who has loved books by Korean authors. And sometimes, I’ll read books filled with people just like me. I love dipping into classic Edith Wharton one day and Andy Weir’s science-laden epics another day. And in between, I’ll fall in love with dense historical fiction (heavy on the history) like Rednecks.

So whose target reader am I? I defy you to figure that out.

Back to my earlier point about the difference between a target reader and an ideal reader…

While I’m clearly skeptical about the universality of the target reader, I do believe in the notion of the ideal reader—but this is not someone who gravitates to a particular style of book. Rather, an ideal reader, for me, is anyone who reads closely, intentionally, carefully, and is genuinely interested in a book’s “operating system”: the characters’ motivations; why events unfold as they do; how the story makes the reader feel; and what lingers long after the book is finished.

An ideal reader does not bring pre-conceived expectations to a new book, but rather is open to whatever adventure the author takes them on.

An ideal reader does not judge a book based on what they wanted to see happen (e.g., the mother wouldn’t die, the boat wouldn’t sink, the marriage wouldn’t end in divorce), but honors the story as it’s written.

At the end of the day, I’d rather believe there are countless ideal readers out there—for Tent City and everything else—while leaving the narrower pool of target readers to follow their specific tastes. I promise not to engage in any stalking.

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My new novel TENT CITY, is getting some amazing reviews —and now you can download the companion BOOK CLUB KIT, a rich resource for discussing the book!

“Amy L. Bernstein’s powerful novel reflects modern times with a twist, offering powerful insights into groups that used to work together and now find themselves seemingly at odds, but connected in unusual ways.

“The food for thought generated by this social and psychological examination will prove especially compelling for readers seeking literary reflections of present and future dilemmas surrounding haves and have-nots, simmering frustrations on all sides, and the raise of poverty that both births Tent City and portends its ultimate collapse, as well.

--D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review