Monthly Archives: April 2022

The Joy of Making Stuff Up

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

“Once upon a time,” I told my two oldest grandboys, “there were two baby monsters. One was green and one was blue. They lived in a cave with their mom and dad…”

I had no idea what I would say next (Papa was pantsing and the pressure was on). Their eyes were riveted on me, with that expression children get when they are not really looking at you but at the pictures forming in their imaginations. There is nothing so precious as that look, and it was my task to keep it there.

Trouble being the key to plot, I got those baby monsters out of the cave and lost in the city (notice the urban landscape. I have too much noir in my bones to go bucolic). The trouble kept increasing—a truck almost hit them! A robber almost shot them! A building fell down around them!—until, finally, a stout-hearted policeman helped them get back home.

The boys were enraptured to the end. Then came my reward: “Tell us another story, Papa.”

Ah, the pure joy of making stuff up.

We’ve had several discussions over the years here at TKZ about why we write. Is it for love or money or a combo of both? (See, e.g., Debbie’s post on this topic and the comments thereto). Today I’d like to focus on another reason: pure, unadulterated joy.

Those of us who’ve labored inside the walls of the Forbidden City, where deadlines loom like nimbus clouds, know it’s not always fun and games. The beast of profit must be fed and the wolf of canceled contracts howls outside the gates.

For indies, there is business to attend to, with its expansive list of non-writing tasks. The demand to be prolific can dilute the simple joy of making stuff up.

Wherever you are in your writing, it’s crucial to find ways to nurture that joy. Getting into “the zone” when we work on our WIP is one way, though it’s hard to systematize. Some days the writing pours out of you; other days it’s like slogging through the La Brea Tar Pits in snowshoes. When I’m in the pits I find that doing some character work is the ticket back into “flow.” I’ll stop and do some thinking about one or two of the characters, and it doesn’t matter who they are—main, secondary, or a new one I make up. A bit more backstory, a secret held, a relationship hitherto unnoticed—in a little while I’m excited to dive back in.

That’s for my main work, full-length fiction. But I also take time for flash fiction, short stories, novelettes, and (as Steve mentioned yesterday) novellas. These I do these purely for fun. I don’t think about markets or editors or critics. It’s just me and my writing and new story worlds.

The nice thing is that even if a shorter work stalls out (it rarely does, for there is almost always a way to make things work) the exercise itself is good for my craft as a whole. It keeps me sharp and in shape. I write short fiction the way Rocky Marciano used the heavy bag. No one was ever in better shape than Marciano, which is why he was the only undefeated heavyweight champion in history.

I’ve quoted this before, but it bears repeating here:

In the great story-tellers, there is a sort of self-enjoyment in the exercise of the sense of narrative; and this, by sheer contagion, communicates enjoyment to the reader. Perhaps it may be called (by analogy with the familiar phrase, “the joy of living”) the joy of telling tales. The joy of telling tales which shines through Treasure Island is perhaps the main reason for the continued popularity of the story. The author is having such a good time in telling his tale that he gives us necessarily a good time in reading it. — Clayton Meeker Hamilton, A Manual of the Art of Fiction (1919)

I certainly had a good time writing a series of six novelettes about a Hollywood studio troubleshooter in the 1940s. These were originally written for my Patreon group, but the response was so positive I decided to put them all together in a collection which, coincidentally (how could I have known?) releases today!

TROUBLE IS MY BEAT is out now at the deal price of $2.99 (it goes up to $4.99 at the end of the week). For readers outside the U.S., go to your Amazon store and search for: B09V1RLXDM

Which brings up the joy of sharing your work. You can do that now in many ways. And if you’ve had fun in the writing, there’s a good chance you’ll have the fun of making new readers. You may even get a message along the lines of, “I just discovered your books! I love them! Keep writing, please!”

Why, that’s almost as good as, “Tell us another story, Papa.”

And that’s how I see the joy of making stuff up. How about you? Do you experience this often yourself? Does it come and go? How do you get it back when it takes a powder?

 

The Novella – Compact Utility Vehicle or Sports Car

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The Novella

by Steve Hooley

 

The novella is an interesting part of fiction history and the current fiction panorama. It played a role in the development of other forms of current fiction and is being used more in today’s fast-paced publishing environment.

A review of The Kill Zone’s archives (for novella) revealed three articles by James Scott Bell, Joe Moore, and Jordan Dane. It’s been 6-10 years since those posts, so let’s take another look at the Novella.

Definition

The word “novella” is the feminine form of “novello,” Italian (masculine) for “new.”

The novella has been described as “a short novel or a long short story.” Its length is listed as 10,000 – 40,000 words (some sources say 20,000 – 50,000 or even 15,000 – 60,000). The novella usually has a single plotline, is focused on one character, and “can be read in a single day.” It may or may not be divided into chapters, and white space is traditionally used to divide sections.

Examples of novellas that used chapters:

  • Animal Farm – George Orwell
  • War of the Worlds – H.G. Wells

During its history, the novella has been used in different ways. Let’s see if it is the “load-it-up-with-everything compact utility vehicle” or a “fast-sexy-Italian sports car.”

History

The Britannica entry for Novella (summarized) states that the novella originated in Italy during the Middle Ages, where its form was originally based on local events (humorous, political, or amorous). Writers such as Boccaccio, Sacchetti, and Bandello later developed it into a psychologically subtle and structured short tale, using a frame story to unify.

Chaucer introduced it to England with The Canterbury Tales.

During the Elizabethan period, Shakespeare and other playwrights used plots from the Italian novella.

The content and form of these tales influenced development of the English novel in the 18th century, and the short story in the 19th century.

The novella flourished in Germany (known as Novelle) in the 18th, 19th, and 20th centuries, often contained in a frame story and based on a catastrophic event. It was characterized by brevity, a self-contained plot, and ending with irony, while using restraint of emotion and an objective presentation.

Examples of novellas:

  • Tolstoy – The Death of Ivan Ilich
  • Dostoyevsky – Notes from the Underground
  • Joseph Conrad – Heart of Darkness
  • Henry James – The Aspern Papers

Tips on Writing

Three great posts on TKZ by James Scott Bell, Joe Moore, and Jordan Dane are well worth rereading. I’ve summarized their tips on writing here:

James Scott Bell – 8-12-12

  • Use one plot
  • One POV
  • One central question
  • One style and tone
  • Have a rock-solid premise
  • Write in the heat of passion
  • Use white space to designate scene changes
  • Keep asking, “How can it get worse?”

Joe Moore – 4-29-15

  • Keep it short for a quick read, for the time-deprived reader

Jordan Dane – 4-21-16

  • Plots must be simpler
  • Minimize subplots
  • Setting, description, and prose must be simplified
  • Novellas are like screenplays – focus on dialogue and major plot movements
  • Novellas are like visuals of a film

Current Uses

From Jordan’s post

  • Generate buzz for an upcoming novel, ex: short backstory for MC
  • Enhance cash flow
  • Character focus – focus on MC or interesting secondary character
  • Advance tease for upcoming project
  • Writing time filler between projects
  • Discount price

From Joe’s post

  • A quick read for busy readers

Additional Ideas

Since the novella has evolved over time and could conceivably continue to change, this could be fertile ground for a right brain playground.

  • Opportunity to experiment with a character-oriented story
  • Opportunity to develop a secondary character
  • Edit an anthology into a novella with a frame story and a common theme to run through each section
  • Experiment with new ways to separate sections
  • Create new subcategories of the novella
  • How about a men’s fiction subcategory – The Novello
  • The “reader magnet” as a reward for signing up for a newsletter. It’s getting increasing use.

 

Okay, it’s your turn.

  1. Have you written a novella?
  2. What’s your favorite use of the novella?
  3. What ideas can you think of to make the novella truly novella (new)?
  4. Any ideas to put your personal stamp on it?
  5. Can you add a subcategory?
  6. Would you like to help shape its history?
  7. Any other novella/novello ideas?

Understanding Is Knowing What To Do

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“To understand is to know what to do.” ~ Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittenstein.

This sounds too simple to have value. Yet, thinking about it, it’s a genius line—maybe one level above genius—in its simplicity. How many mistakes do you make when you understand something? Probably very few, because mistakes usually come from blind spots, a lack of understanding.

I subscribe to a site called Farnam Street. Every Sunday, I get the Farnam Street newsletter which has a critical thinking, multidisciplinary outlook in its topics. The site is named Farnam Street after the street in Omaha, Nebraska where 97-year-old Charlie Munger has lived all his life. It’s right next door to Warren Buffett’s home. After all, the two are life-long business partners, and it’s Charlie Munger who taught Warren Buffett how to invest.

Last Sunday, Farnam Street had a transcript and audio recording of a talk Peter Kaufman gave to the California Polytechnic State University Pomona Economics Club. He opened with the line, “To understand is to know what to do.”

Peter Kaufman is one of America’s most successful businessmen. He’s also the author/editor of Poor Charlie’s Almanac which contains some of the best essays and speeches written by his friend and mentor, Charlie Munger. The “Big Ideas” as Munger puts it.

Kaufman identifies two parabolic Big Ideas that people often overlook in their quest for success, whether it be financial returns or on a writing journey. One is Mirrored Reciprocation (go positive and go first). The other is Compound Interest (being constant). Combining these two into one basic approach (go positive and go first and be constant in doing it) may be the best formula ever set for a writing journey as well as in general life.

Peter Kaufman expands on his Mirrored Reciprocation/Compound Interest topic in a 45-minute speech. He outlines five ascending levels of cognitive prowess. Kaufman didn’t concoct these levels. Albert Einstein did, and they are:

  1. Smart
  2. Intelligent
  3. Brilliant
  4. Genius
  5. Simplicity

There’s a simple takeaway, if you listen to this.

Priceless for writers.

Behavioral Analysis Unit

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By John Gilstrap

I have been a member of International Thriller Writers since the very first year of its existence. ITW is a great organization for writers in all stages of their careers, membership is free, and they have some terrific publications. Among these publications is “The Big Thrill”, the association’s monthly newsletter. A new feature within the newsletter is a column called The Big Thrill’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, which asks authors to answer 20 questions. My turn in the breach was last month, and I thought I’d share a few of the questions and my answers. I’m hoping y’all will take a stab at answering them for yourself.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

I’m not sure that “perfect happiness” exists. We all have those thrilling moments—the birth of a child, the big success at work, or even a quiet walk in the woods with your best friend—but those are counterbalanced by the other stresses of life. Perhaps a parent is ill, or a sibling just lost his job. I think the real definition of happiness is finding the handle to balance the good and the bad, always trusting that even in the worst times, better times are coming.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

I overthink and analyze everything. Having spent many years as a safety engineer, cause-and-effect analysis is baked into my DNA. I don’t enter a place without noting where the exits are. When I drive, I’m always driving—I’m not taking in the beauty of the world. I can’t turn it off, and it can be exhausting.

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

Dishonesty. Lie to me once on a substantive matter and we’re done. Betray a confidence and we’re done. Trust is fragile. Once broken, I don’t know that it can be repaired.

What is your favorite way to waste time?

I can sit in one place for long periods of time and just watch. Whether it’s waves crashing onto the beach, or a breeze blowing through the forest, or people in a shopping mall, I find great contentment in sitting quietly and paying attention

What’s your favorite place in the world?

Well, home, of course, but I don’t think that’s what you mean. As a visitor, I have travelled all over. I’ve spent at least two days in all 50 states, and I’ve seen most of Europe, and a good chunk of Canada. That’s a lot of beauty. For natural beauty, Bryce Canyon, Utah and Lake Louise in Alberta are right up there, as are the Amalfi Coast and Italian Vineyards. My favorite cities are Paris, Prague, Lisbon and Reykjavik. But after visiting all of those, nothing beats the back porch, watching the deer and wild turkeys do their thing in the forest.

What is your favorite word?

My favorite word, if I’m being honest, is the F-bomb. While I never use it in my books, it’s a staple of my everyday vocabulary. It’s the only word cathartic enough to ease the pain of a stubbed toe, and it’s a universal modifier of every noun.

What is the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever received?

This one’s easy: Shut up and write. Talking about writing, reading about writing, attending classes on writing is not writing. While those things may be beneficial, they are more likely just time sucks. Writing is the acting of committing words to the page—or to the screen, I suppose.

Okay, TKZ family. It’s your turn.

A Gardener’s Guide To Writing. Or: Prune Without Mercy

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“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.” — Margaret Atwood

By PJ Parrish

It’s spring here in Tallahassee. My novel is stalled. But my tomatoes are budding, the ferns are unfurling, and in a week or two, the agapanthus will burst into flaming blue.

It’s hard to concentrate on indoor plots when the outdoor plots call.

I took up gardening only in the last couple years, and now it sustains me in my writing life. I’m not alone in this obsession. Many famous writers were keen gardeners or were heavily inspired by plants and flowers. We writers are, by nature, observers of life. We eavesdrop on conversation, we scrutinize human actions. You can’t write unless you watch, very carefully. As writers you need tools, tenacity, patience, and a touch of faith. So it is with gardening.

Plants and flowers, like human beings, are understood only by moving among them and quietly, slowly, observing them. Every day, religiously, I go out and see how things are going in the garden. Are the herbs flourishing? Do the roses need pruning? Should I move the azaleas to the north side of the house so they bloom better? Every day, I open the laptop and review the landscape of the work in progress. Does this character need more sun? Should I prune this description more? Should I move this scene to a different location? And damn, how did all those weedy adverbs get in there?

If you turn your back for just one day, both your garden and novel go to hell.

It makes me feel good to know so many writers find solace in nature. Here’s Chekov writing to his friend in 1899: “The garden is going to be spectacular. I am planting it myself, with my own hands.”  Thomas Hardy found inspiration for his bucolic Far From the Madden Crowd while walking in his garden. Sir Walter Scott had five gardens, where he would walk every morning before beginning to write: “After breakfast I went out…the rich luxuriant green refreshing to the eye, soft to the tread, and perfume to the smell. Wandered about and looked at my plantations.”

Many famous writers were themselves avid gardeners. William Wordsworth was an early environmentalist. Gardens are prominent in the works of the Bronte sisters and Charlotte is said to have disapproved of “highly cultivated” gardens, preferring things a little on the wild side. Or as A.A. Milne said, “Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.”

Shaw’s Writers Hut

George Bernard Shaw built a “writer’s hut” in his garden. The hut rotates on a central pole axis and castors so that Shaw could always have sunshine and a change of view. His ashes are buried in the garden.

Virginia Wolfe’s first writing room was a converted shed in her garden and when she finally began to make money, she built a writing lodge in her orchard, where she wrote Mrs Dalloway, To the Lighthouse and Between the Acts’ Her garden lifted her from periods of deep depression and when she was too ill to work, she would have a chair positioned in her bedroom so she could see the garden. In a letter to a friend, she wrote: “I sleep and dress in full view of the garden.”

Edith Wharton cultivated a lush garden at her Massachusetts home and retreated there to avoid the swells at Newport. She was a serious student of landscaping and wrote a book Italian Villas and Their Gardens. She said of her gardening: “I am amazed at the success of my efforts. Decidedly I am a better landscape gardener than novelist and this place, every line of which is my own work, far surpasses The House of Mirth…”

In her lifetime, Emily Dickinson, born into a family of horticulturalists, was better known as a gardener than a poet. She became a recluse and her world narrowed to her home and gardens. When her sister discovered Dickinson’s secret trove of 1,800 poems after her death, her love of gardening was obvious:  Over a third of her poems rely on images drawn from her garden and the woods where she walked with her dog Carlo, hunting for wildflowers.

I so get that one. I consider growing my own lettuce (three varieties!) every bit as an achievement as my books.

So what have I learned from being out among my plants every day?

You need good tools. When I first started gardening, I bought cheapo shears and a junky plastic rake. It didn’t take long to figure out that without the basics of garden craft, nothing was going to grow, and what attempts I did make were going to be twice as hard. Oh, and you have to keep your tools sharp. (ie. never stop learning, writers).

Prune without mercy. Yes, go ahead and plant with great heart and hope. Move through your first and second drafts with verve and confidence. But when the time comes, walk through what you’ve sowed and see what needs work. Every spring I whack my rose bushes down to ugly nubs. Weeks later, they come back straight and lush, every bloom perfect. You must be as ruthless with your scenes. Learn to recognize what parts of your book have turned leggy and unnecessary. Cut them out.

If you can’t bear to throw them away, store them in a separate place. I have a “hospital” section of my yard where I put the plants that didn’t quite fit. They live there until I can find a good place to put them. See that sad fellow at left? I spent a lot of money on him, planted him in the wrong spot and he almost died. He’s recovering in a pot until I can find out where he truly belongs. So it should be with scenes and chapters. Don’t keep material because you “spent” a lot of effort on it.

Weed every day. Let’s talk about your weed problem. You know, those flabby adjectives, the needless adverbs, the redundant dialogue tags, junky “filler” words. Filler words are the crabgrass of fiction. Look at this passage:

Ted felt felt the hot press of air against his neck and he knew there was nothing he could do about what had happened. He wondered why he had waited so long to pull the trigger. He knew it was his fault that the woman was dead. And he was worried now that her husband was going to come after him.

And this one, filler words weeded out:

The sun burned on the back of Ted’s neck. Or was it the hot press of guilt he felt? It was too late to change what had happened. The woman was dead. And now he was sure her husband was coming after him.   

I find it’s a good idea to go over your last day or two’s work and do some weeding before you move on to new stuff. It helps you get back in the groove and it keeps things under control. I love to weed. It makes me feel like I’m accomplishing a lot when all I’m really doing is cleaning up. Some days I devote only to weeding and that’s okay. As Margaret Atwood says, “At the end of the day’s [writing], you should smell like dirt.”

Leave room for serendipity and whimsy. I’m with Charlotte Bronte on this one. I don’t like my gardens too pat and tidy. I like surprises instead of ho-hum plants. I like paths that wind instead of linear ones. I like a touch of humor whenever possible. I have a section of my yard where I put garden tchotchkes. A solar watering can that lights up at night. Some small statues. A gaudy ceramic gecko. A globe that spews out water when you turn on the hose. No gnomes. But probably too many flamingos. Call me tacky. These things make me smile. If it works, don’t be afraid to let something a little odd, a little off-kilter, into your story. Light is an effective contrast amid darkness.

A few quick final thoughts:

Don’t try to grow things that aren’t really you. I am really good with orchids. But I can’t seem to keep a Christmas cactus or basil plants alive. My writer’s heart is dark. I can’t write humor and have stopped trying. Know who you are as a writer. Don’t follow trends.

Know when to give up. Not with writing or gardening itself. Because both are life-long loves. But if something isn’t working, admit defeat and move on. Sometimes, a plant just exercises its God-given right to up and die. So it is with bad ideas, misbegotten plots and moribund books. Plant new bulbs and start over.

Cultivate friends. I have twelve bird feeders in my garden. The wrens, cardinals, bluebirds and others that visit keep me company and give my garden efforts extra meaning. I just put out a hummingbird feeder, complete with a bright red begonia. (Hummers love red). No one’s showed up yet, but I love waiting. So it is for you as a writer. Seek out and maintain writer friendships, especially those who can help keep you on course, emotionally and craft-wise.  As a writer, you are so often alone and in the dark. These garden visitors bring you light and hope.

The last word goes to Victor Hugo, from Les Misérables: “Sometimes he used a spade in his garden, and sometimes he read and wrote. He had but one name for these two kinds of labor; he called them gardening. ‘The Spirit is a garden,’ said he.”

A Disturbing New Trend

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There’s a disturbing new trend on social media that could bankrupt authors. I first learned about it on Facebook, but it’s since traveled throughout all social media.

Some readers feel it’s fine to buy a Kindle book on Amazon, read it, enjoy it, and then return it for a full refund. After all, who’s it hurting? Authors, that’s who.

Did you know if authors rack up too many returns Amazon can send them a bill? I didn’t realize this, either, but it’s happening as we speak. I’ve heard from more than a few Indie authors who, along with royalty payments they received a bill for returns. And these are professional authors who sell 200-500 books per week.

Before you dismiss this post because you think it doesn’t apply to you, this trend affects all authors regardless of how they choose to publish.

A massive influx of returns might result in a publishing house dropping the author. At the very least, they may be hesitant to buy the author’s next book. Why? Because too many returns give the impression that readers are not enjoying the series, when in fact these habitual returners do it to save money. For some reason they’re under the misguided impression that all authors are rolling in dough. They also don’t take into consideration how hard we work. Most authors I know work six days per week, sometimes seven if they fall behind.

Is it fair for these habitual returners to prevent us from earning a livable wage?

Look. I’m not sayin’ if the book sucks due to a lack of editing or poor formatting you shouldn’t be able to return it. That’s different. But to read the entire book and then return it is just plain wrong. Would you go to a theatre, watch the movie, and then ask for your money back because you didn’t like the ending? Of course not. So, why do habitual returners think the same rules don’t apply to ebooks?

Amazon makes it easy to return digital products within a seven-day period. Here’s the kicker. If these habitual returners continue to game the system, Amazon can stop them from buying more Kindle books for at least a year. Nowhere could I find the parameters of what’s considered abuse, but there’s at least one habitual returner who publicly apologized for her behavior after getting banned from Amazon.

Thankfully, I haven’t seen an increase in returns, but this new trend worries me. Some authors are even habitual returners — and they’re bragging about it on social media! I will never understand what goes through some people’s mind. Be reckless all you want with your own life, but don’t let your crazy loose on the rest of us.

I have never returned a Kindle book in my life, and I’ve slogged through more than my share of crappy reads. Now, I download the sample first. If I like it, I buy it. If I don’t, no harm done. That’s why Amazon has the sample feature.

The return feature is available for readers who one-click by mistake.

SUBSCRIPTION ALTERNATIVES THAT DON’T HARM AUTHORS

Join Kindle Unlimited

For $9.99 a month, you can read an unlimited number of Kindle books. You will only have access to books within the KU library, but for voracious readers it’s a good option. Amazon offers a free 30-day trial period or a two-month deal for $4.99.

FREE ALTERNATIVES THAT DON’T HARM AUTHORS

Prime Reading

Yes, you need a Prime account, but most households have one to save shipping costs. If you don’t, you will need a subscription ($99/yr.). Otherwise, a Prime account automatically gives you access to FREE Prime Reading books. I’ve found some amazing new-to-me authors this way. If I love the author’s writing, I usually buy all their books, but that’s me. You could stay within the Prime Reading lending library and never buy another ebook.

Local Libraries Offer FREE Ebooks Through Libby.

Download Libby from the App Store or Google Play. The welcome page will ask if you have a library card.

If you do, click YES.
Then click ADD LIBRARY.
Enter your zip code.
Select your local library from the list.
Enter your library card details.

If you don’t have a library card, click NOT YET.
Libby will walk you through requesting a library card through the app.

Once you’re inside Libby, you can browse through the books or search for a specific title, author, or genre. Libby adds new titles all the time.

If you read on a Kindle device, click READ ON KINDLE and Libby will open an Amazon account log-in window.
Enter Amazon username and password, and the ebook will automatically download to your Kindle.

Never worry about late fees. At the end of the loan period (time varies among local libraries), the book vanishes from your device.

Libby also provides audiobooks, as Jim mentioned in this post. If you live outside the U.S., you can access Libby through Overdrive.

Become a Reviewer on NetGalley

Use NetGalley for free to request, read, and recommend books before they are published — and provide essential reviews and feedback to publishers and other readers.

Contact Your Favorite Author

Tell the author how much you love their work and ask to join their ARC team. If you keep up your end of the bargain by posting honest reviews, the authors will continue to send you FREE ARCs. Plus, you’ll be the first to read new releases!

With all these free options, why return Kindle books? Unless you one-click by mistake or the book is riddled with typos or formatting errors, please, please, please stop returning ebooks to save money. Think about your favorite authors. Do we deserve to feed our family? Do we deserve a roof over our head? Do we deserve heat in the winter and cool air in the summer? Then let us earn a living. We’re not asking for donations. We’re simply asking habitual returners to stop stealing our work.

If you want to help prevent this trend from continuing, sign the Change.org petition.

TKZers, have you heard of this disturbing new trend? Have you been affected by it yet?

Dreams For Your Mirror Moment

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Half my life’s in books, written pages.
Live and learn from fools and from sages.
You know it’s true, oh
All the things come back to you…
Dream on!
– Aerosmith, “Dream On”

We’ve had several discussions about dreams here at TKZ. I believe the consensus rule of thumb (or, in deference to Brother Gilstrap, guideline of thumb) is never open with a dream. As Les Edgerton states in his excellent book Hooked: Write Fiction That Grabs Readers at Page One (Writer’s Digest Books):

Never, ever, ever begin a narrative with action and then reveal the character’s merely dreaming it all. Not unless you’d like your manuscript hurled across the room, accompanied by a series of curses. Followed by the insertion of a form rejection letter into your SASE and delivered by the minions of our illustrious postal service.

Ah, remember the days of SASEs and paper manuscripts?

The only exception is when you alert the reader in the first sentence that it’s a dream, as in Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again (Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier). Even so, I would counsel against the dream-sequence opening.

As for a dream later in the book, I recommend doing it only once and only for the specific purpose of revealing the character’s emotions at an intense time. Dean Koontz does this in Chapter 15 of The City:

Eventually I returned to the sofa, too exhausted to stand an entire night watch. I dropped into a deep well of sleep and floated there until, after a while, the dream began in a pitch-black place with the sound of rushing water all around, as if I must be aboard a boat on a river in the rain … (etc.)

The exception to this advice is when dreaming is an integral part of the plot. See, for example, Spellbound (1945, dir. Alfred Hitchcock).

Recently, I discovered another way to use a dream. It’s a perfect device for a mirror moment. Those of you who’ve read the book know there are two types of mirror moments that can occur in the center of the novel.

One moment is when the character has to look at himself, as in a “mirror” (sometimes literally) and reflect on who he is, inside. Will he change for the better? The rest of the novel is about whether a fundamental transformation takes place (as it does in, e.g., Casablanca).

The other type of moment is when the character looks at her situation and realizes she’s probably going to die. The odds are just too great. For example, Katniss in The Hunger Games. In the exact middle she assesses her situation and says to herself, This is an okay place to die. The story question for such a moment becomes will the character gain the strength and smarts to fight and win against the odds?

Here’s today’s tip: Either of those moments can be given to us through a dream.

I was re-reading John D. MacDonald’s final Travis McGee book, The Lonely Silver Rain. In this one McGee is dispatched to find a stolen boat. When he does, he discovers a grisly scene—three horribly murdered bodies. A bit later someone tries to kill McGee. Then there’s another attempt on his life. Why? McGee has no idea, except that it must have something to do with what happened on that boat. He undertakes a laborious investigation to find the answer. But he keeps running into a wall. Thus, in the middle of the book:

The cold had awakened me from a dream. I had been in a poker game at an oval table, with the center green-shaded light hung so low I could not make out the faces of the men at the table. They all wore dark clothing. The game was five-card draw, jacks or better to open. They were red Bicycle cards. Every time I picked up my five cards, I found the faces absolutely blank. Just white paper. I wanted to complain about this, but for some reason I was reluctant. I threw each hand in, blank faces up, hoping they would notice. All the rest of the cards were normal. I could see that each time a winner exposed his hand. There was a lot of betting, all in silence. A lot of money. And then I picked up one hand and found they were real cards. I did not sort them. I never sort poker hands or bridge hands. The act gives too much away to an observant opponent. I had three kings of clubs and two jacks of diamonds. In the dream I did not think this odd. They were waiting for me to bet when the cold woke me up. In the dream I had been shivering with the tension of having a good hand. The shivering was real. 

Why did he dream this? McGee knows there are people out there to kill him, but cannot figure out who (he can’t see the faces of the other players). He has talked to many potential witnesses, to no avail (blank cards). The knowledge he does have may be misleading (like having three kings of clubs and two jacks of diamonds in a poker hand). The shivering in the dream is uncertainty, brought into the real world.

It seems to me a perfect way to show us “the odds are too great” type of mirror moment. A dream can easily be used to show the first kind, the “is this who I really am?” type.

To make it work, the dream should have those bizarre details we get in dreams—like blank playing cards which suddenly become cards of the same type. Of course, the symbols should relate somehow to what’s going on in the story.

A good dream sequence works emotionally on the reader. In some cases it may cause the reader to pause and ponder, trying to figure it out. Either outcome is a good one, as it gets the reader more deeply invested in the story—which is what every writer dreams of, yes?

Up Front Money

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Not long ago, (but before the lockdown) I was invited to speak at a library down in Mason, just west of San Antonio. That little south Texas town was where Fred Gipson lived, one of my favorite authors who wrote Old Yeller and Savage Sam.

They put me up in a quaint old hotel down there in the hill country, overlooking the town square that wasn’t much more than an intersection of two lane roads. It was one of those little perks I enjoy as an author. I spoke that night and signed my latest novel, then retired to the balcony and sipped a gin and tonic under the stars, thinking about an elderly woman who came to me after the talk, asking if I could help her with a problem.

I’d signed my last book and was getting ready to leave when she took a chair beside me. “You’re a famous author.” She spoke with a German accent, which isn’t unusual in that part of the Lone Star State. The German-Texan culture began here in 1831, five years before the Alamo fell, and significantly increased after the close of the Civil War. It’s estimated that over 40,000 emigrants moved to Texas by the close of the nineteenth century.

“No ma’am. I’m far from famous, just a pretty good writer who entertains people.”

“Well, you surely have an agent.”

“I do. She’s my second agent. I fired the first.”

“Oh, you’ve already fired one.” She pressed her pearls and looked around at her husband who stood slightly behind her as silent as a bodyguard. “Why, I can’t get anyone to even look at my work, and I already have a book out.”

“Well, congratulations. That’s an accomplishment. What’s it about?”

“My time in Germany during the war. I was sent to the camps and am the only survivor in our family.”

My throat caught and I studied the tall, slender woman with unruly white hair. Her wrinkled husband with equally white hair nodded, as if to confirm her statement.

“I’m sure it’s a powerful novel. Is it written as fiction, or non-fiction?”

“Oh, it’s nonfiction. It’s the story of my survival. It’s done well here in town. I think I’ve sold almost a hundred and fifty copies.” She nodded to punctuate the statement, pleased with her success.

“So you got it published without an agent.”

“Yes. It’s self-published, and that’s my problem. I need an agent to tell me what to do with all these books.”

I didn’t know where was she was going, but I had an idea. “Well, you’re kinda doing this backwards. You might have a hard time finding someone to represent works that are already out there.”

“Can you help me then?”

“I might offer some advice, but I’m far from an expert in this field.”

“I just need someone to tell me what to do with all these books that keep arriving.”

Alarm bells went off. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“Books arrive each month and I have to pay for them. My garage is almost full.”

“Did you sign a contract saying you’re required to buy a certain amount each month?” I couldn’t believe anyone would agree to such a deal, and hoped I misunderstood what she was telling me.

“Yes. They keep coming in, and I’m running out of money.”

She explained it was a company that charged her to print the books, then required her to buy a specific number each month. Living on a limited income, she spent a fortune on the first run and after exhausting her list of friends and family, she tried to sell them from her trunk.

Bookstores in that part of Texas are about as rare as hen’s teeth, but she managed to get a few on the shelves of an antique store, and a couple of small independent bookstores within a fifty mile radius. However, she had more than she would, or could, ever sell.

There was no way to break the news to her in a gentle way. “Ma’am, I’m afraid you’ve been taken. I don’t know what you can do.”

Her face fell. She knew it, but had to hear those words from someone else. “You have no such contract?”

“No ma’am. I’m traditionally published.”

“You don’t use your own money to print the books?”

“No, it doesn’t work that way with a traditional publishing house. People pay me, not the other way around.”

“They won’t let me out of this contract. I’ve asked several times.”

“You might find a literary attorney to break the contract.”

“That will cost money.”

“Yes it will, but it’s the only solution I know.”

I suggested a Texas Writers Association that might be of some help, and gave her the names of two agents down here who were also authors. She thanked me, rose with an effort, and took her husband’s arm. He supported her as they made their slow way to the door and I had to swallow a lump before I could gather my things and leave.

That’s why I was drinking gin alone on the hotel balcony.

I have no experience with self-publishing, but can only offer this suggestion to those who are considering this non-traditional way of getting into print. Writers need someone to review legal documents with an eye toward minimizing their financial risks. Get yourself a good literary attorney to review any contract before signing your name. It might be expensive at the outset, but a bad publishing deal can hound you for years and ultimately impact your career as an author.

And because I’ve never self-published (though I have friends who are successful at it), I’d like to hear from those of you who took this route. You comments might help someone else. Please, and thank you.

I’m still haunted by that poor survivor who was taken by an unscrupulous publisher.