I'm in the final sequence of the New Mexico book. It is getting simpler all the time. I just dropped thirty-five bucks on a book about the El Camino Real de Tierra Adentro but I went and wrote all 300 words of the vignette set during the Juan de OƱate expedition without it. Might want to read up on Lozen before I write her vignette, though.
I'm still on the fence about whether I will spring for editing, much less developmental edit, on this one. I have larger bread to fry.
Because I need to explore other stories. The four (soon to be five) Athena Fox books I want to think of as back catalog. Potential income and name recognition as I write new stuff.
I narrowed it down to three options for triage, but before I reach out to a professional, I reached out to one that plays a professional (and a human) on the internet. Hey, I had a chit courtesy of the subscription fee I already pay to ProWritingAid.
I trust it here because I'm not looking for value judgements and I'm ignoring the insincere praise; I'm looking for pattern recognition.
Without prompting, without the prod of knowing what I wanted to hear so it could regurgitate it back to me, the bot identified a genre. No, a sub-genre; "Archaeological Thriller," which is so new it still doesn't have a standard iconography.
I trust the AI less on whether the book I showed it checks the right boxes for that genre. It may be entirely ignoring the genre when it went on to talk about plot character and theme. But it produced a picture that works for me; of these books (or at least the first one) as sitting comfortably within the Thriller genre.
As an option within that genre I hadn't had clearly described to me until I found the Paul Tomlinson books, and hadn't really connected to the Archaeological Thriller sub-genre despite there being examples out there.
Paul Tomlinson calls this particular flavor the "Amateur on the run" thriller.
It works, it has an audience, it is fairly straight-forward to stage for (that is, covers and keywords, advertising and blurbs).
This does leave open the question of whether the other books fit as well. The Athens book had almost the classic on-the-run profile. The Kyoto book could be considered a "wrong man" thriller, even if it dives early into more of an infiltration or even caper. But the Paris book is clearly treasure hunt, without the elements of pursuit, paranoia, or mistaken identity (although there are the elements that critic John Cawelti talks about; disguise, invisibility, and conspiracy). And the London book is essentially mystery, with Penny in the driver's seat for most of it.
I can't ignore how close I slide to cozy mystery, but there are both textual reasons (something I'll get into in a later post -- tentative title; "The Mystery as Post-Processual Archaeology") and stronger market reasons not to go there.
Penny and her journey is still the selling point, with the mystery being the excuse for it. She remains outsider to the cultures she encounters. She makes friends but largely fights alone. And the action is physical, much more in line with thriller (or urban fantasy) than the more cerebral process of detecting. Like Nancy Drew, she may be smart, but what she has aren't cases, but adventures.
So thriller is the right umbrella. Not cozy, not mystery, not history, not travel.
I am also feeling strongly that leaning on the dual role of Penny Bright/Athena Fox is not the right approach. Part of her hero's journey is becoming the mask, part of the wrong-man thriller is being mistaken for the mask, and there is much humor in the way the real world either echoes or fails to echo the kinds of situations a fictional archaeologist-adventurer would encounter. But this is better thought of not as theme, but as part of the character package, like Nero Wolfe and his orchids, or Bones and whatever uncatalogued neurodivergence she is supposed to have.
The iconography and other genre traits of Archaeological Thriller are still being formed. As evidenced by not a few writers choosing the term "archaeological adventure" or even "archaeological mystery" instead. The Amelia Peabody books are more genteel, and could certainly drift towards cozy mystery, but are still being staged as thrillers.
Where I want to and believe I should lean in my staging (advertising, blurbs, keywords, etc) is the amateur hero, finding surprising strengths within themselves. And, again within that particular thriller umbrella, exotic settings, unusual situations, masks and disguises, conspiracy and mystery, and being alone and often on the run, unsure of who they can trust and up against impossible odds.
I don't need to emphasize archaeology, history, or even the exotic settings (they are assumed to come with the meal). And I also see no good coming out of trying to emphasize the retro, or the idea of movie situations made real, or any of that.
What I am planning is a re-release. And there is an additional wrinkle.
I need to drop the cozy titles. I can get series/brand recognition through other elements than having "Fox" in every title. It was feeling like a stretch anyhow.
I checked with KDP and they are find with issuing new books under a different title, as long as there is a clear "previously published as..." in the description. Done this way, this would give me a chance to release five books on timed intervals. And possibly sweeten the pot with ARCs as well.
Developmental editing is still on the table. I will do another line edit, at least. There's enough small stuff even I have noticed to make it worthwhile.
Thrillers and archaeological thrillers, oddly, converge on titles. There is a strong tendency for the MacGuffin in the title, as well as something more conceptual. The only difference is that the archaeological thriller almost always has something clearly historical about one of the title elements.
Which again underlines how the archaeological thriller is a thriller. And once more helps me understand why this is a good brand fit; if anything, the Athena Fox stories are a better thriller fit than they are an archaeological thriller fit! (Since the latter trends strongly towards world-threatening artifacts and well-armed heroes, where the former can more easily support an everyman hero and a pure MacGuffin that never actually does anything.)
So thriller titles, basically. With, when possible, a historical name in there. I can get an "The X of Y" out of most of them pretty easily.So leave that off. Thrillers, in particular, go for a conceptual cover and whether it is a one-shot hero or a series hero, they get identified not by having their mug on the cover but by having their name.
This leaves artifacts, settings, and symbology as the big cover elements. All generally with a dark thriller-esque look to the rest of it. Settings are more likely when there is something big and archaeological and easily recognizable, like the pyramid group in Cairo. After that, it stops being archaeological and more generic thriller cover, with modern city or exotic city being largely obscured with dramatic lighting.
I am not enamored of artifact titles or artifacts in the cover (and, yes, the AI had at least one to suggest for me). The dotted-line-on-a-map doesn't work for me now, either, because I don't believe in the retro thing as being a good approach.
But that doesn't mean I can't use graphics. And sometimes these graphics might be a map. Or have map-like elements. But this is what I'm getting out of the current (and not really there yet) cover design I have over at 100 Covers; graphics are cool for a thriller title, and I can go something more graphically interesting without losing the strong genre identification (and the thumbnail readability).
What I don't know now is the timing. I need to finish the current book. Not sure if I'm going to release "formerly titled The Early Fox" to eBook with nothing but the basic edit, or send that one through a longer pipeline first, or wait and save my money (developmental editing ain't cheap) for a book I feel more positive about.
New covers, I'm sure of. New titles, probably. At least some editing, certainly. But deeper editing? That's the triage, still, and to really decide I need to be talking to a human.