by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
I was reading in the back yard when Mrs. B came out to let me know that L.A. was in for two days of rain.
Without missing a beat I said, “Spahn and Sain and two days of rain.”
Cindy said, “What?”
“Spahn and Sain and two days of rain.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
I told her.
Back in my Little League days, when I was in love with baseball, the Dodgers, and Sandy Koufax in particular, I did a lot of reading in baseball history. In 1948, the Boston Braves were in a tight pennant race. They had two ace pitchers that year, Warren Spahn and Johnny Sain. In those days, ball clubs used four starting pitchers on a rotating basis. If only, fans mused, we could play the remaining games with our two stars doing all the pitching.
The sports editor of the Boston Post, Gerald V. Hern, set this hope in verse:
First, we’ll use Spahn,
Then we’ll use Sain,
Then an off day,
Followed by rain.
Back will come Spahn
Followed by Sain
And followed,
We Hope,
By two days of rain.
Johnny Sain and Warren Spahn
Now, who but a baseball nut from the past would know this? Bob Costas would know it. Vin Scully knew it. Yea, verily, most die-hard fans of the era would. Warren Spahn is a Hall of Famer, one of the greatest pitchers of all time. He won 363 games (winning 300 is an automatic ticket to the Hall of Fame) even though, incredibly, he missed three full seasons serving in World War II. In that capacity he won a Purple Heart and Bronze Star for action at the Battle of the Bulge.
Johnny Sain had a fine career, with 1948 as the highlight, when he was runner-up as the league’s MVP (Stan “The Man” Musial of the St. Louis Cardinals won it). He also served three years in the Navy during the war. After his retirement he became one of the best pitching coaches in the game.
So why did I want my lovely wife to know this bit of trivia? Well, because it’s part of me and my experience, my interests, my memories of love (baseball). I wanted to share it with her, have her experience the joy with me.
And that’s why I drop historical or philosophical references in my Romeo books. Those interest Mike, they’re part of him. No surprise they interest me, too, and I want to share them with my readers.
But to do so, there must be a story reason for it, and it must flow seamlessly into the narrative. Most often Mike will do this in dialogue, as with his young charge at the beach, Carter “C Dog” Weeks.
Almost always Mike explains the reference. But sometimes he’ll drop a reference and move on. It’s a risk, for the reader may be stopped short (this is not a Seinfeld reference) and wonder what it means.
And that might induce the reader to take a moment to look it up. In the “old days” to do that would be a cumbersome process of finding a dictionary or encyclopedia to seek it out. But now a couple of clicks will get you there in nothing flat.
I’m okay with that. Indeed, I get the occasional email telling me something like, “I didn’t know about ___, but looked it up. That’s pretty cool!” Indeed, Dick Francis once remarked, “If you can teach people something, you’ve won half the battle. They want to keep on reading.”
Now, I’m always mindful of doing too much of this. It can easily be overdone. In fact, editing my next Romeo, I read one of these excursions that I found entirely fascinating. But it just felt like too much. So I cut it. This was killing a darling, but we all know sometimes we must.
John D. MacDonald’s famous series character, Travis McGee, would occasionally offer personal musings about something, like what land speculators were doing in Florida or what the city of San Francisco used to be like (one wonders what ol’ Trav would think now). A few readers and critics made a minor complaint about this, but I think the larger majority—which includes yours truly—enjoyed them. They gave a deeper insight into the character.
That’s why I think it’s worth the risk.
So what risks have you taken in your writing? How’d it work out?
NOTE: I’m traveling today but will check in as I can. Cheers!
Risk: using a little-known fact from my Catholic background to create part of the ending of the middle novel in my mainstream trilogy:
…
“Because we’re not married?”
“Aye.”
She laughed softly. “If you’d paid more attention in church, you heathen, you’d know the spouses are the ministers of the sacrament; the priest is merely the official witness.” She shrugged uncaringly. “Not even required.”
“Ye’re certain?”
“You must be free to marry—and intend to.”
“Only that?”
“Trust me?”
Doubtfulness flashed across his face. “Aye, but—”
Freedom was making it hard to breathe. “Marry me here. Right now.”
“Is it legal?”
“Are you trying to get out of it?”
“Ye call yer lawyer-friend in the morning.” His expression was stern. “Need ye all locked down before I go.”
She nodded assent. “For me, us, your parents. Forever. We’ll straighten out the paperwork later. A license, probably. Details.” Her chest burbled like the last time she’d had champagne. “Are you still certain?”
“Never more.” He knelt again, took both her hands, watching her for his cue.
…
The marriage – with no witnesses – is going to wreak havoc with the final volume.
The solution to a major problem in the trilogy will be done by blackmail – and risk the marriage itself because of that.
It’s even a huge risk using a disabled character who does not get well or even improve as a main character.
But risks are justified IF they work, and the whole doesn’t work without a constant stream of risks.
So far my readers have stuck with me, and not a one has said any of those risks is not believable, or that the potential gains have not been worth it.
And sometimes the risky behaviors fall flat on their faces. They can’t always win – or they wouldn’t be risks, would they?
I meant to add: sharing your work is a huge risk – not sharing it, and even bigger one: you might miss a potential reader.
You bring up something that’s gone missing in recent years in my reading. It used to occur far more frequently that I’d be reading a book that brought up something that made me curious enough to Google it or otherwise look up more information. I honestly can’t remember a recent time where that has happened. Probably a combination of lack of curiosity raising material and always being in a rush.
But I always loved it when I got so curious reading about something that it spurred me to go dig further. So now after this post, the next time it does happen, the moment will stand out all the more. 😎
Good points JSB. My answer, as it so often is, is “Sometimes. It depends.”
My characters will sometimes mention things that I assume everyone knows and my critique partner flag it with a “huh?”. Then I have to decide if it’s important enough to keep, if it needs to be explained, and if so, how. Doesn’t everyone know how Walt Disney secretly bought land for his Orlando theme parks? Apparently not.
I threw in a reference to cattle deaths in Colorado assumed to have been caused by aliens. That one, people can look up if they don’t believe me.
My book club read “Year of Wonders” this month, and it was chock full of things, mostly vocabulary, that I knew nothing about. The Plague in England isn’t a huge topic of interest for me. I was interested in looking up a little history of the village, because it was real, but all the ‘correct’ terminology for the day to day life–not so much.
For the record, Sandy Koufax went to my parents’ high school.
I do the same, Jim! Also in dialogue and plot-related, I slip in fascinating tidbits about the Natural World. Like you, I often receive emails from readers, saying, “You blew my mind with xyz! I had no idea.” Or it’s mentioned in reviews as a positive.
I slip in music references in my 1980s Meg Booker series, as well as movie references, and also, plenty of book titles. Books are especially important–it’s an historical cozy library mystery series after all 🙂 It’s “worth the risk” because it establishes the time period, and is important to my characters.
Safe travels!
I remember one of your Romeo books, Jim, where you had Mike replaying a Fischer/Spassky championship chess game in his mind while he was surveilling a building. I wondered at the time if other readers would understand what a remarkable effort that would be.
I love John D. McDonald’s embellishments that were not essential to the plot, but made the reading experience richer.
In my WIP, the protagonist is a private pilot and a few scenes include communication with Air Traffic Control. A fellow pilot warned me to keep it simple because readers may become confused or bored with jargon. In one snippet, ATC directs the character to “change to heading two-seven-zero.” Written from the pilot’s first person POV, the next statement is “I made the turn, and we were wings level, sailing west, with the early morning sun at our backs.”
Btw, I love the image you included with this post. That’s a risk I would never take!
Trusting Dean Wesley Smith in his assertion that I could believe in myself and trust my creative subconscious. Well, if that can be called a risk. Not like there would have been casualties had things not worked out. (grin)
By the way, Dean is back to fighting the myths with a blast from the past. Check out https://deanwesleysmith.com/the-myth-that-writing-is-hard/. No writers will be harmed during the reading of the article. 🙂
In my teen fantasy series, I often try to slip in some anatomy and physiology. Betas tend to let me know when it’s too much. When I tried to explain how DNA codes the production of proteins, my wife said it was definitely too much.
Safe travels.
First congratulations on your Lifetime Achievement Award at ACFW last night! Long overdue!
I had to change: “Doc don’t know squat.” to Doc doesn’t know anything when an editor didn’t understand what I was talking about. Bless her heart.
Somehow I deleted part of my comment. Should have read: I often slip in Southernisms into my writing that aren’t always understood by Yankee editors…
Great topic, Jim. I’m one reader who loves Mike’s rabbit trails into philosophy and history. It’s like adding a wee bit of lime juice to my beef stew.
Usually, I’m not much of a risk-taker. Especially as depicted in the graphic. No way! It’s interesting to me that all three of my kiddos are risk-takers, bless their hearts. I have fun watching them . . . from a distance . . .
In my new release, No Tomorrows, I am taking a risk, however. It’s with the ending of the novel. And I’m not going to say what kind of risk, because then I’d have to pull a Romeo and dispatch you . . . so to speak, of course. 🙂
Have a great Sunday!
One of tne negative reviews of my first novel was “she uses too many words I don’t know.” So I made the mc of my latest time have an eidetic memory. She memorized an entire Word Of The Day calendar and doesn’t hesitate to use the words – and spout their meaning. I hope people “get” it.
In my last thriller—El Norte, I took a risk by delving into the topics of gangs and migration in the Hispanic world of Latin America. I was familiar with the subjects from my travels and years of living in Southern California, and from my following research. But still—and also thinking about the oft-discussed “cultural appropriation” by white Europeans—I was a little nervous about the reaction. Did I get it right? Did I step over some line? But when I received positive Latinx editorial feedback and another 4-star Hispanic review, I was glad I took the risk.
Risk is more relevant to my non-fiction. In my historical thriller, however, I took a real character, Gen. Zeitzler, made him a loyal Nazi, and put him present during two of Hitler’s worst decisions, Sicily and Normandy. After the second, I sent Zeitzler home to write a letter of resignation claiming poor health. Later, I looked up what the real Zeitzler had done. After his relationship with Hitler became increasingly confrontational, he left the Berghof on July 1, 1944, alleging poor health. Despite the latter, he lived until 1963.
Ah, that brought back memories! A triple play I actually witnessed. “Russell to Garvey to Lopes to Cey!” Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale. Tommy Lasorda blasting out of the dugout to chew on the ump.
But I have to say, my favorite line in your post was “my next Romeo.” Can’t wait. And personally, I love it when he drops in one of those references!
Pingback: A Risk Worth Taking – Fix Yourself
Much of my working life has been spent in research & development, best described as, “If we knew what we were doing, it wouldn’t be research.” In that environment, even with S&P500 corporate level funding, only 1 in 12 endeavors becomes a commercial success. To last long, a person has to become tolerant of failure and rejection.
I remain an experimentalist in my writing. I’m familiar with the great John D. and his Travis McGee. I find his personal musings interesting from the standpoint of getting to know the character more deeply. But I understand when one makes a sales pitch to the public, we are throwing our work at a broad bell shaped distribution. Tastes will vary. Some will like it, others hate it. That’s life.
When I include a historical reality moment, I try to tie it into the scene’s dialogue. For example, my character Sam is a Vietnam War era newly minted 2nd Lt in the Air Force. He meets a shop keeper off base and asks why the town’s people seem very friendly to the military when so much hostility is found elsewhere. The shop tells a story from his youth, the day a German U-boat torpedoed 2 US oil tankers just off-shore. The explosion blew out windows in the town’s school where the children were waiting for the bell calling them in. (True event just off coastal Georgia I never heard about in high school history classes.) The town’s people tended to the injured sailors and helped recover the dead. Sam was told many of the current day adults in town have memories of standing at that school yard when WWII came to their town. Sam was advised to not trifle with the affections of girls in town and he would stay in their parents good graces.
As far as “How’d it work out?” Don’t know yet. Pre-publishing feedback has been good but one never knows. I view it like a test pilot on a maiden flight of an experimental aircraft, taxiing down the runway gaining speed. It will either rise above the tree-line or crash and burn. Right now I am proceeding as if success is inevitable.