The Secret Sauce(s) of Fiction

by James Scott Bell

I love me a good burger. As master of the grill, I make a killer patty on my Traeger. Nothing like smoky goodness in brisket-blend ground beef. From there I make it personal: Colby jack cheese nicely melted, a slice of white onion, a slice of tomato (the way Miracle Max likes them, “perky”), and a crisp lettuce leaf, topped with Stubbs Sweet Heat BBQ sauce.

When it comes to fast-food burgers, there is only one place I’ll consider: In-N-Out. My go-to is their Double-Double—two patties with American cheese, lettuce, tomato and grilled onions.

And, of course, their secret sauce (“spread”). The nice thing is you can ask for extra spread if you like, and I like, one for splooching a bit on the next bite, and one for my fries. (You can look up recipes online that purport to duplicate In-N-Out spread, but it’s still officially a secret). It’s that sauce that makes all the difference.

Which invites the question: is there a secret sauce for fiction? I believe every author can make their own recipe, and should. It’s the way we can stand out from the generic, tasteless condiment produced by the machine.

I do believe that the writers who enjoy massive success all have a secret sauce.

For Dickens, it was in his cast of characters. As I wrote this, many came to mind, as fresh as when I first encountered them: Mr. Micawber, Peggotty, Betsy Trotwood, Mr. Dick, Fagin, The Artful Dodger, Mr. Bumble, Scrooge, Madame Defarge, Miss Havisham. I’ve often talked about supporting characters being the “spice” of fiction. Don’t ever waste them as a cliché or stereotype. This is one of the most potent ingredients in any sauce.

For Chandler, it was style. His was unique and tangy, often imitated, never surpassed.

I lit a cigarette. It tasted like a plumber’s handkerchief.

It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.

From thirty feet away she looked like a lot of class. From ten feet away she looked like something made up to be seen from thirty feet away.

John D. MacDonald also had a singular style, what he called “unobtrusive poetry.”

She sat up slowly, looked in turn at each of us, and her dark eyes were like twin entrances to two deep caves.  Nothing lived in those caves. Maybe something had, once upon a time. There were piles of picked bones back in there, some scribbling on the walls, and some gray ash where the fires had been.

Another word for style is voice. Sometimes that voice is the main ingredient in the sauce, as with the novels of Tom Wolfe and Douglas Adams.

For Harlan Coben, it’s about the plot, with more twists than a pretzel.

Elmore Leonard was a master of dialogue, and it’s spread throughout all his books.

   “I don’t know what it is,” his dad said, “you’re not a bad-looking guy. You could give a little more thought to your grooming. Get your hair trimmed, wear a white shirt now and then, see if that works. What kind of aftershave you use?”

     “I’m serious.”

     “I know you are and I’m glad you came to me. When’d she throw you out, last night?”

     “She didn’t throw me out, I left. I phoned, you weren’t home, so I stayed at Jerry’s.”

     “When you needed me most,” his dad said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Actually,” Chris said, “you get right down to it, Phyllis’s the one does all the talking.” (Freaky Deaky)

For Ken Follett it’s historical detail, deftly woven, not larded on. As one critic put it:

Readers do learn a lot about cathedral building in The Pillars of the Earth and about how Gothic architecture developed, but in a way that serves a clear and clever purpose in the story. It doesn’t feel stuck-on or like an excuse for the author to write endlessly about his passion and share the fruits of research. The exposition plays naturally and complements rather than impedes the flow of the narrative and build of suspense.

With Carl Hiaasen, humor is the main ingredient.

When I was conceiving my series hero, Mike Romeo, I asked myself what my secret sauce would be. What can I bring to the character that will make him unique and not just some knockoff of what’s worked for others? So far, with #11 out there now, I think my sauce is working. It’s a mix of dialogue, philosophy, a touch of humor, spicy minor characters, and horticulture. He is a former cage fighter who loves flowers, Plato, and his wife, Sophie.

A few secret sauce tips:

  1. Be judicious with it. Too much sauce of any kind can overpower the meat. Your sauce should enhance, not overwhelm, the book.
  2. It must be tasty. Not every mixture is palatable to the reading public. Of course, if you don’t care about sales, splatter on whatever spread you make.
  3. Don’t use AI to come up with your recipe. Mix it in your own mental kitchen.

And so I ask, do you have a secret sauce? Maybe you haven’t thought about it, but looking at your work so far, do you see a consistent ingredient that marks your books as uniquely yours?

What’s the secret sauce for some of your favorite writers?

Let’s talk about it. Bon appétit!

16 thoughts on “The Secret Sauce(s) of Fiction”

  1. The secret sauce conversation is very timely – and in this case I’m thinking of songwriting and performing. Within the past week I’ve had a conversation with someone and the discussion involved the huge popularity of Ella Langley’s “Choosin’ Texas”, which spent 24 weeks at the top of the charts and crossed over to the pop stations as well.

    The subject came up because the song was so immensely popular and played so much, that the person I was speaking with was literally getting tired of hearing it. But it’s interesting how certain songs just resonate with people. So I googled and asked why this song is so popular, and a few of the reasons will resonate with writers:

    “The Opening Hook: industry songwriters note that the song grabs listeners immediately with a distinct, simple, and famiiar guitar intro.”

    “Relatable Storyline: Co-written by Langley alongside Miranda Lambert, Dick and Joybeth Taylor, the lyrics frame a clear, emotional breakup and a chin-up redemption story about choosing a fresh start over a failing relationship.”

    (Other reasons given were retro-modern production, viral and social momentum).

    For my own writing, I’m not sure I can assess my own secret sauce — I still feel like a newbie. 😎 Though I resonate with the above google analysis of that song — I want my stories to be relatable. I feel like I’m still developing my own voice. But if my in-progress secret sauce does it’s work, my stories will transport people to the time and place they are reading about & engage them through the end.

  2. I’ve re-binged Tina Whittle’s Tai and Trey series recently, and I’m in awe of her use of metaphors that you don’t see. Whereas so many pull me out of the writing, making me see a second image, when I had a perfectly good one from the first words, hers are seamless.
    As for my sauce, I’d say it’s my voice which carries over into all my series. As a reader once said to me after I gave a presentation to her book club, “You write just like you talk.”

  3. Oh, me…I wasn’t sure what makes my books different–I’ve never known what my voice is or anything like that–so I asked ChatGPT (shoot, I haven’t used it enough to know how to spell it and my spellcheck highlighted it). Anyway, this is what it gave me.

    What is the common thread in her books?
    I would describe it as danger on the outside, healing on the inside.

    A Bradley story often brings together three questions:

    Mystery: Who committed the crime, and what is the truth?

    Relationships: Can these people learn to trust and love again?

    Faith: Can they find courage, forgiveness, and hope despite what they’ve experienced?

    That combination is what makes her books especially appealing to readers who enjoy suspense but also want emotional depth and a faith-centered perspective.

    Gee, I’m glad I asked.

  4. Your Mike Romeo sauce is definitely working, Jim. I’m about half way through Romeo’s World and am loving being back in the company of Mike, Ira, and Sophie.

    My novel recipes always start with a complex puzzle–usually, but not always, a murder. The sauce is composed of the amateur sleuths. In five of my six mysteries, the protagonists are two-person teams which gives me the opportunity to contrast the abilities of the two sleuths with each other as they track down the solution to the mystery.

  5. I enjoy Charlaine Harris’s secret sauce in her Southern Vampire series — little homey details. Sukie Stackhouse wonders if she should open her beloved late grandmother’s last jar of homemade grape jelly. Sukie also makes sure her kitchen sink is clean — all the while dealing with vampires. Those details make the book realistic.
    I think my sauce is the wacky details about South Florida. I love adding them to my Florida Beach books.

  6. Great idea for a post – and wonderful execution.
    —
    What’s the secret sauce for some of your favorite writers?

    One of my favorites will always be the way John D. MacDonald lets you into the mind of Travis McGee, knight in rusty armor.

    I’m sure he never intended it as a Master Class in male interiority, but that’s how I’ve taken it in creating Andrew O’Connell, my ‘rising Irish actor of his generation.’

    —
    And a perfect question: And so I ask, do you have a secret sauce?

    Immediately, my mind jumped to a couple of reviews in particular:

    “This book was a feast…I found myself turning page after page, and DEVOURING the words, licking my lips figuratively at how delicious they were, and thinking: SHE CAN’T KEEP THIS UP! There is no way she can continue to let me walk around and see and hear and feel what the characters are experiencing; except she did…” Pat Patterson, Amazon review of Pride’s Children: PURGATORY

    “Alicia Ehrhardt continues the epic journey inside the hearts of Kary, Andrew and Bianca by turns, and her characters engage the reader with a grip which only increases as the (many) pages turn. once again, the plot is more than character-driven; there is a sense in which the plot is the characters.

    The pace is still measured, moving in time with the emotions of the characters. The tension remains remarkable and is sustained throughout. Ehrhardt’s writing has a fascinating unconscious beauty, without ever obtruding itself into the story.” David Rose, Amazon review of Pride’s Children: NETHERWORLD.

    —
    That is my intention, to take a reader through the story by presenting the scenes from right behind the eyeballs of the three main characters, to let you live as them, see the world as them, and ultimately judge them and their choices.

  7. Raymond Chandler for voice, metaphors, and memorable characterizations.

    For my own books, I think it’s relatable characters who could be your next door neighbors…except they run into terrible problems that I sure hope never come to my neighborhood.

    With several books, I caught the rising tide of timely news events. Instrument of the Devil dealt with a cyberattack on the electric grid. Eyes in the Sky featured drone surveillance. Deep Fake Double Down addressed fake videos used as evidence against innocent people.

  8. Oh, this is good. I must read Chandler, I’ve decided.

    I’m still a newbie. Nine years in on everyday writing with four finished novels—one shelved, two published, and I just finished my first draft of my first thriller. What’s my sauce? That’s a great question which I can’t answer.

    I can answer what isn’t my sauce—metaphors. I’ve had readers tell me my characters are relatable and believable. I have had great comments on dialogue (your book on the subject has been immensely helpful).

    Since going carnivore, I only use salt. It brings out the flavour. I might settle for enough salt in my writing, until I discover what my sauce is—or someone spells it out to me. Without a doubt this question will live rent-free in my head. 🙂 And I don’t mind.

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