I’m pleased to welcome TKZ alumna Nancy Cohen today, as she talks about the Writer’s Learning Curve. That’s Nancy in the hot pink suit. — Elaine Viets

By Nancy J. Cohen

As we go through our journey as writers, we move from one set of learning goals to another. These may evolve over time but there’s never a lack of new things to conquer. Always needing to stay ahead in this game, we must keep up with trends in the marketplace, writing styles and marketing strategies.

When you’re starting out, you’ll devour articles on character, plot, setting and other basic elements of a novel. Once you hone your skills, you’ll narrow down your focus to a particular genre. This can take years, along with many unpublished books, notes from critique partners and rejections from editors. Eventually, if you persist, you’ll get published. With professional editorial input, your skills will keep improving until you look back on those earlier books with dismay. Now that you’re a seasoned author, what’s next?

Writing styles change as pressures from the real world influence our tastes as readers. Before technology infused recreational pursuits, people had plenty of time to read for pleasure. Long, descriptive passages and poetic prose were common. Remember those long tomes by authors such as James Michener? How many of us would pick up one to read now?

These days, readers lack the patience for long expository passages. They want white space, short paragraphs and even shorter chapters. Fast-paced stories with lots of dialogue and action will win readers over sooner than lengthy descriptions that make your eyes glaze. What was that famous line about cutting out the parts readers tend to skim past?

The advent of e-book readers has reinforced this shorter, breezy writing style. So has the “Look Inside” feature at Amazon. You need to grab a reader’s attention within the first few pages. Never mind spending several paragraphs describing the luscious sunrise and seguing into backstory about how the heroine came to be there. Cut to the heart of the story and get things moving from the start. Listen to what readers want and adapt your style if you want to attract more fans.

This also applies to the marketplace. Are cozies popular because the outside world is scary and rife with tension these days? Or are darker tales and thrillers in vogue? Do we need to steer clear of certain topics? Or can we address these issues in a timely manner in our work? Supposedly our books reflect what’s going on in society. In a pandemic, does this mean writing our lifestyle changes into our stories or carrying on as though things are normal? That would depend upon your readers’ expectations, so again, consider your audience.

By now, you’ve produced a number of published books and have learned how to manage your promotional efforts. Back in the day, this meant booksignings inside malls at B. Dalton and Waldenbooks. Then it became independent bookstores. Now it’s online events and ZOOM presentations. You have to keep up with the times in terms of marketing efforts. And when you think you have it down pat, you decide to go hybrid or indie and have to learn a whole new skill set. Nor does it ever end. Audiobook production, box sets, sales promotions, social media campaigns…the opportunities to try new things can be overwhelming. It helps to focus on one item at a time. What is it you want to learn next?

As authors, we’re on a journey that will keep taking us to new places. We always have more to learn and to achieve. Be grateful, because it keeps our minds sharp and gives us a sense of purpose each day. In this, we share a unique mindset that connects us to each other.

By Elaine Viets

New York Times bestsellers. Pulitzer Prize nominees and winners. Man Booker short-listed books and winners. Books taught in high schools and colleges. And books fresh off those coveted “Best of” lists.
I want all these honors for my novels.
But what do these literary successes have in common?
Cliches.
Cliches that would embarrass novice novelists.
For a project for The Pudding, an online magazine, Erin Davis “selected 2,000 books spanning Pulitzer-winning classics to pulpy bestsellers (getting myself banned from the library—twice) and ran them through a parser that identified sentences mentioning body parts. I then extracted the owner of the body parts and any adjectives describing them.”
Her results should put every writer on alert. We’re cranking out cliches.
Here are some of Erin Davis’ findings:
“Hair is twice as likely to be mentioned for women characters than for men . . . society values different things about men and women. For example, there is a long literary, historical, and cultural tradition of valuing a woman’s hair: the Bible calls hair a woman’s crowning glory.
“In other cases, that gaze is more lascivious,” Davis writes. “Consider this litany of woman-skewed body parts: hip, belly, waist, and thigh.”
But when it comes to men, we writers typically – stereotypically, to be exact – describe men’s strength and power. “Body parts such as fist, knuckles, chest, and jaw sketch an image of a commanding and intimidating presence,” Davis says, “as empty of nuance as the soft, sexy image of women.”
Women’s faces are eight times more likely to be “lovely” or “pretty.” Men are plain old “handsome.”
Female bodies are more likely to be “naked,” “young” and “slender.” Men are sixteen times more likely to be described as “powerful.”
Women’s legs are bare and long – especially long. Sorry, guys. Your gams are simply “hairy,” a pedestrian description, if you’ll pardon the pun, and a great offense. I live near the beach, and can testify that many men have shapely bare legs.
As for shoulders, once again, the ladies are nekkid and “white.” Men’s shoulders are “heavy” and “broad.” What a shame those hunky male shoulders are covered up.
And women’s skin? Alas, it’s not much different than our shoulders: it’s described as “white,” “pale,” “smooth,” or “dark.” Men’s skin is reduced to either “black” or “yellow.” Fortunately, both sexes have “warm” skin.
What this project shows is how many authors rely on lazy writing. When our fingers are flying over the keys, it’s easy to grab a reliable cliche. Everyone does that.
Here’s my favorite paragraph from Davis’ article: “In real life, women are obviously more dimensional than soft, sexual objects. Men are more complex than muscular lunkheads. We should expect that same nuance of the characters in the books we read.”
If we’re interested in more thoughtful descriptions of lovers for our novels, check your family photos. Remember the relatives who were – or are – madly in love. Are the women all long-haired beauties and the men strong and handsome? Or are there some startling mismatches.
Consider your sizzling hot Aunt Anna who married geeky Uncle Walter, the guy with the weak chin. They’re still living happily ever after. And what about sexy Cousin Jack? Why did he fall for flat-chested Verna, with the thick glasses and bird legs? Why are they still in love twenty-five years later?
For strong women, I give your Rosie the Riveter, who inspired World War II women to work in factories and help their country. Here’s one Rosie, her crowning glory wrapped in a red bandana, working on an aircraft.

Norman Rockwell’s Rosie is eating a sandwich. She may have white shoulders, but her bare arms are definitely muscular.

As for strong men, here’s a hero who defies the standard cliches: the British spy Frank Foley.

Frank was short, pot-bellied, and wore owlish glasses. He looked exactly like his cover profession – passport control officer for the British embassy in Berlin. History says, “Foley bent the rules and helped thousands of Jewish families escape from Nazi Germany after Kristallnacht and before the outbreak of the Second World War.”
Forget the James Bond tux. Foley, the quintescential clerk, saved ten thousand people.
Write on – right past the cliches.

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A Star Is Dead, my fourth Angela Richman, Death Investigator mystery, is “skillfully plotted… Witty dialogue and well-defined characters, including plucky and intelligent Angela, lift this wry look at the trappings of celebrity. Fans and newcomers alike will be pleased” – Publishers Weekly. Buy it today: https://tinyurl.com/yc6fnysb

By Elaine Viets

You know, some words and phrases are getting on my nerves. Most people would say it is what it is and at the end of the day, let it go. I know, right? But I’ve been doing some online research. There are certain sayings that tick people off. And readers are people, too. You don’t want to turn off your readers with annoying phrases. Just sayin’.
These outstandingly irritating phrases are garnered from various corners of the Web.
Think carefully before you use them in your writing. You may want to save them for your most hateful characters.

Just sayin’. The winner! Nearly everyone hates this redundant phrase. I mean, you’ve already said what you were going to say, right?

Literally. I confess I’ve used this one and thought it was pretty clever – the first time. Then I noticed that word in every novel I picked up – literally.

It is what it is. Arggh! This meaningless phrase is enough to send me screaming into the night. I admit I’m a little touchy these days, with the quarantine and all, but please don’t use it.

At this moment in time. What’s wrong with “now”? Can this pretentious phrase.

Everything happens for a reason. Usually said after some meaningless tragedy, and meant as consolation. If you don’t have that comforting belief system, this phrase triggers an urge to slap that person silly. Also avoid this phrase: Whenever God closes a door, he opens a window. I had a roommate like that. Very annoying.

Honestly. Often a trigger word indicating the person using it is lying. Use it carefully.

My bad. A cutesy way of glossing over a mistake. This phrase says, “I know I did something offensive and I don’t care.”

I want 110 percent. Right, boss. Except your math doesn’t add up.

No worries. Some people find this phrase a little passive-aggressive. In other words, when someone says, “No worries,” they’re really telling you that you should be worried.

At the end of day. As in, “At the end of the day, getting a new CEO won’t make any difference. This company is doomed.” This crutch will cripple any sentence.

With all due respect. The warm-up to an insult. “With all due respect, even in your prime you weren’t that good.”

That’s my list, and it’s pretty good, in IMHO (oops, there’s another one.) Now’s your chance. What tired words and phrases would you like to see retired?

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A Star Is Dead, my new Angela Richman death investigator mystery “will satisfy procedural and cozy fans who like a good puzzle,” says Booklist magazine.
Buy it here: https://tinyurl.com/yc6

By Elaine Viets

I’m starting my sixth Angela Richman, Death Investigator mystery by returning to my comfort read, Agatha Christie. After all, she’s sold a billion books in English and another billion in foreign languages.
Why read an author who’s been dead for nearly 45 years?

Because her writing is timeless. I still learn from her. Here are three ways:
(1) Agatha Christie’s character descriptions are superb.
Even the most unimportant characters are carefully described.
In Death on the Nile “smooth-footed, deft-handed waiters ministered” to Hercule Poirot’s table, serving him an excellent meal.

And while the butler didn’t commit this murder, his brief appearance is memorable:
“A few minutes later she was being ushered into the long stately drawing room, and an ecclesiastical butler was saying with the proper mournful intonation, ‘Miss de Bellefort.’”
I love those phrases –”an ecclesiastical butler” “with the proper mournful intonation.” I can almost hear him intone her name.

(2) Agatha Christie finds fresh ways to describe series characters.

It’s tempting for series writers like myself to repeat the same descriptions of our main characters, book after book. But we have to be careful. Readers are smart enough to recognize boilerplate.
Here’s Agatha’s description of Hercule in After the Funeral. This is the 29th mystery in the Poirot series, but she still comes up with a new description:
“There were no curves in the room. Everything was square. Almost the only exception was Hercule Poirot himself, who was full of curves. His stomach was pleasantly rounded, his head resembled an egg in shape, and his moustaches curved upwards in a flamboyant flourish.”
Hercule is talking to Mr. Goby, an expensive operative who acquires outre information. Here’s Agatha’s clever description of a nondescript operative:
“Mr. Goby was small and spare and shrunken. He had always been refreshingly nondescript in appearance and he was now so nondescript as practically not to be there at all.”
Mr. Goby has to deliver a long list information that could have been quite dry. But Agatha livens it up with a funny bit. Here’s how Mr. Goby gives his report to Poirot:
“He was not looking at Poirot because Mr. Gobi never looked at anybody. Such remarks as he was now making seemed to be addressed to the left-hand corner of the chromium-plated fireplace curb.” He delivers his first round of information that way.
For the second batch, Mr. Goby “shifted his gaze to an electric plug socket.”
The third burst of info is given while he “winks at a lampshade.”
And finally, Mr. Goby finishes his information “by nodding his head at a cushion on the sofa.”
Mr. Goby never appears in this book again, but Agatha has found a good way to make what could have been a boring recitation of facts entertaining.
(3) Agatha Christie knows how to skip esoteric discussions that can bog down a scene.
Hercule is back at that fine dinner, and the host says, “‘You will enjoy your dinner, Monsieur Poirot. I promise you that. Now as to wine–’
“A technical conversation ensued, with Jules, the maitre d’hotel, assisting.”
Agatha also uses this technique to avoid repetitious dialogue from scene to scene.
That’s how I prep for my newest novel. I don’t call it procrastination, though Agatha has some 80 books and short stories.
What do you do before you start your novels?

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A Star Is Dead – “witty dialogue and well-defined characters” says Publishers Weekly – sold out of its first printing. Buy it  here:

https://tinyurl.com/y7cv83v4

By Elaine Viets 

The 1914 movie serial “The Perils of Pauline,” was the ultimate cliffhanger. Week after week, Pauline escaped airplane crashes, searches for buried treasure, and multiple abductions. She was even carried away in a hot air balloon. But contrary to legend, the original Pauline was never tied to a railroad track, or nearly sawed in half by a buzz saw.
Pauline’s perils made great cliffhangers, and kept moviegoers crowding the theaters for some twenty episodes.
Cliffhangers are the hooks that make your readers keep turning the pages, pulling them into the next scene or chapter. Most cliffhangers come at the end of the chapter. If your readers are hooked, they’ll continue reading.

Here are some tips for good cliffhangers:
A cliffhanger should catch your readers by surprise.
Something unexpected has to happen: Someone threatens to jump off a bridge. Their car goes into a skid on a snowy curve. A door opens unexpectedly. Then, bam! The chapter ends.
Darkest Evening, Ann Cleeves’ new Vera Stanhope novel, has a perfect cliffhanger chapter ending. Vera follows a killer, who gets her alone and strangles her. I’ve edited out the killer’s name in this section, but you get the idea.
“As Vera began to lose consciousness, she thought that this was her fault. . . it was her pride again, making her think she was indestructible.
“Then the world went blank.”
I couldn’t wait to turn the page and see what happened to Vera. Not to mention the killer.

The Perils Of Pauline, poster, Pearl White, 1914. (Photo by LMPC via Getty Images)

Someone unexpected arrives. A crook, an innocent person, a cop, just in time. This person is a surprise. They abruptly break up the scene.
Someone leaves.
A bride suddenly leaves the groom standing at the altar. A couple is fighting, and he walks out on her. She suddenly quits her job.

Sometimes, the cliffhanger is a new piece of information.
Your character learns something. She’s not married legally to her husband after all because he never divorced his first wife.
Or, he’s not the son of the man he called father: the DNA test proved it.
Your character notices something. The detective sees the scratches around the door lock and realizes the house had been broken into. A wife finds lipstick on her husband’s shirt – scarlet lipstick. She never wears that color.
Your character figures something out. She finally understands the key to the puzzle the dead man left behind. He finally knows why his dead father wanted him to listen to the CD he left in his desk drawer.

Your character decides something. She’s going to leave her abusive husband. He’s going to rob the store to get enough money to feed his family.
She’s going back to school.
Your character feels something. I looked at my husband of twenty years, and wondered, “Why had I married him? What did I ever see in him? Maybe it was time for me to walk away.”
Or, I looked at his picture, and suddenly, I couldn’t see it any more I was blinded by rage.
Your character makes a demand. “Get me to the hospital now!” she told the cabbie. “There’s fifty dollars if you make it in ten minutes!”

How do you end a chapter with a cliffhanger if nothing new is happening? Give a simple pastime a feeling of foreboding.
Agatha Christie, in The A.B.C. Murders, does that. Tom Hartigan and Lily Marbury are out for a carefree night of dancing while a killer stalks the area. Dame Agatha writes:
“They danced on happily – in their conscious minds nothing but the pleasure of being together.
“In their unconscious minds something stirred . . .”
Your character doesn’t show up. In Jeff Abbott’s thrillers are chockfull of cliffhangers. In Cut and Run” Claudia is in a booth at a Mexican restaurant, waiting for Judge Whit Mosley, a man on the run.
“Claudia traced the beer rings on the worn wooden table, waiting for Whit, waiting to see if he was still the man she knew, afraid of what she heard in his voice.
“The nachos grew cold. Whit never showed.”
Whit’s no-show is a cliffhanger and one reason why Jeff’s books are page turners.

Give your readers a sense of menace.
Let them know your characters will be going off to a dangerous place or a risky situation. Or something has happened that will change everything.
Before She Was Helen, by Caroline B. Cooney has some first-rate cliffhangers. Like this one:
Helen thought, “Cold cases are solved by DNA and fingerprints.
“Her fingerprints.
“Which were on the doors and knobs at Dom’s and the Coglands’ houses.
Where the police would shortly be summoned to reunite a stolen artwork with its owner.”
Would Helen’s guilty past catch up with her? I kept reading to find out.

Tick-tock. Time is running out. This is a favorite plot device in thrillers.
“He looked at the clock. He had two hours before the terrorists blew up the bus full of school children. He had to find them.”
Unexpected news. Important information, or a person, shows up unexpectedly. End your scene with the protagonist receiving devastating news: his wife is dead. His office was blown up. Her partner was shot in a hold-up.

Cliffhangers you should avoid. Two of them are: “If I’d only known,” or “Had I but known.”
I ended a chapter like that and my editor cut the line. She told me it was a cliche.
Ending a novel with a cliffhanger.
Sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it? But it often ticks off your readers and leaves them feeling frustrated. Don’t do it. Unless, like Pauline, your new episode is available next week.
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Good news! A Star Is Dead, my fifth Angela Richman mystery, sold out its first printing. Buy your copy here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=a+star+is+dead+elaine+viets&i=stripbooks&crid=1CW21L13TBKUZ&sprefix=A+Star+is+Dead+%2Caps%2C185&ref=nb_sb_ss_c_2_15

By Elaine Viets

Here’s another first page by a Brave Author. Read it, and then let’s discuss it.

Absence of Truth

The letters on the envelope spelled out her name, Vanessa Barella but, they were neither written in ink nor typed. They were cuttings from a newspaper.
The envelope had no mailing address or return address. Not even a stamp, but somehow it had made its way inside Vanessa’s locked mailbox.
She unlocked her front door and placed her mail on the kitchen counter, then slipped off her high-heeled shoes. She threw her jacket over her grandmother’s chair that she didn’t have the heart to throw out. She poured herself a glass of wine and raised it to her lips while keeping her eyes fixated on the mysterious envelope. She broke the seal then removed the letter from inside.
‘I AM A GHOST AND I AM GOING TO KILL YOU’
The letter and envelope fell to the floor when Vanessa reached for the edge of the counter, to stop herself from falling. The rough grout cut into her skin as she held on tight. Vanessa gulped several breaths to slow down her breathing. When the blood restored to her brain and her vision cleared, she picked up the letter and envelope off her tiled floor and then removed her phone and wallet from her handbag. There was a business card in the pocket of her purse, and she dialed the number.
She brought the glass of wine to her lips. The line went quiet after the second ring. Wine dribbled out of her mouth and onto her silk blouse. Shit!
“Hello…, Mr. Cooper, it’s Vanessa Barella. I’m not sure if you remember me? I’m one of the legal assistants over at Anderson & Smith.” There was no response. “It’s a criminal law firm here in San Francisco. You do some private investigating for our firm,” she said. There was still silence. “Mr. Cooper, are you there?” Vanessa was about to hang up the phone when she heard Mr. Cooper’s voice.
“Sorry about that, had to find a quiet place to talk.”
“Mr. Cooper, I’m not calling you about a legal matter. It’s more of a personal one. I need your help.”
“I didn’t catch the name?”
“It’s Vanessa Barella. We’ve met a few times in the conference room. But we’ve mostly spoken over the phone.”

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This entry has possibilities, Brave Author, but it needs work.
There are minor typos, but having a misplaced comma in the first line is not a good idea. The errant comma should go after Barella. There’s a dropped “was” in this line: “When the blood (sic) restored to her brain . . .” You don’t need quotes around the ghost’s message. It’s in all caps.
Now, the opening: It’s not good and it’s not bad. It’s meh. And meh doesn’t sell books.
Here’s an example of a gripping opening, by John D. MacDonald:
“We were about to give up and call it a night when somebody dropped the girl off the bridge.”
Richard Stark opened Firebreak with: “When the phone rang, Parker was in the garage, killing a man.”
Hillary Davidson started The Damage Done this way: “It was the bright yellow tape that finally convinced me my sister was dead.”
Here are more first lines: https://www.crimethrillerhound.co.uk/first-lines
I know you can do better, Brave Author. You’ve dreamed up a fascinating scenario. You have the ultimate dead letter here – a ghost is threatening to kill Vanessa. Use it!

The second major problem is Vanessa’s phone call. You’re trying to deliver information about Vanessa, and it’s a good ploy. But don’t forget how Vanessa is feeling. After all, she just got a death threat. She spilled wine on her blouse. She’s frightened to death. Make her that way. How about a version of this:
“Mr. Cooper, it’s Vanessa Barella. I’m one of the legal assistants over at Anderson & Smith.” Her voice shook. She was sick with fear. There was no response.
“You know, criminal law firm here in San Francisco. You do some private investigating for our firm.” Please, she thought, please answer. You’re my only hope.
There was still silence.
“Mr. Cooper, are you there?” Vanessa was about to hang up the phone when she heard [use Cooper’s first name] Cooper’s voice.
“Sorry about that, had to find a quiet place to talk.”
“Mr. Cooper, I’m not calling you about a legal matter. It’s more of a personal one. I need your help.”
“I didn’t catch the name.”
“It’s Vanessa Barella. We’ve mostly spoken over the phone.”

This critique is what’s known as a “praise sandwich”: criticism stuck between compliments. You’ve given us a good first draft, Brave Author. Now sit down and rework it. I want to read more about that murderous ghost.

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Get an autographed copy of A Star Is Dead, my fourth Angela Richman, death investigator mystery, and help an indie bookstore. Email Murder on the Beach Bookstore at murdermb@gate.net and I’ll donate $1 to Feeding South Florida (feedingsouthflorida.org) for every copy of A Star Is Dead sold at the Delray bookstore.

Susanna and the Elders by Domenichino 1603

By Elaine Viets

Sex, violence, perjury, crooked judges, blackmail – and police procedural techniques still used today. All these are in the first detective story.

So which one is it?

Some say the first detective story was Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” way back in 1841. Wilkie Collins generally gets credit for the first detective novel, “The Moonstone,” in 1868. And others claim Metta Victoria Fuller wrote the first American detective novel, “The Dead Letter,” in 1866. After that, scholars slug it out until we get to the undisputed champion, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and his detective, Sherlock Holmes, in 1887.

But I agree with M.T. Logan that the first detective story was published several thousand years earlier. It’s the story of Susanna and the Elders. If you’re Catholic or Greek Orthodox, Susannah is in the Book of Daniel and is considered divinely inspired. For Protestants and many other religions, the story is part of the Apocrypha, the books that didn’t quite make the cut.

Detail from Susanna and Elders by Tintoretto

Susanna was a young married Jewish woman, living in Babylon. She was God-fearing and good-looking. Susanna liked to walk in her husband’s orchard, and two old pervs – excuse me, two highly respected judges – liked to watch. They fell madly in lust with her, and conspired “when they might find her alone,” as the Good Book says. The old creeps lucked out.

On a hot day, Susanna decided to take a bath in the orchard. The two old men hid themselves and watched as she told her maids, “Bring me oil, and washing balls, and shut the doors of the orchard, that I may wash me.” As soon as the maids brought the things for Susanna’s bath, they shut the doors and left. Nobody knew that the two old degenerates were lurking in the orchard.

Once the doors were shut, the horny old coots cornered Susanna, and said she’d better have sex with them, or they would lie and say “that a young man was with thee, and therefore thou didst send away thy maids.”

Susanna realized she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t, but she’d be damned if she’d have sex with those two creeps. “It is better for me to fall into your hands without doing it, then to sin in the sight of the Lord,” she said.

Susanna and Elders by Anthony van Dyck

Susanna screamed and the old blackmailers screamed, and there was a trial. The judges testified falsely against Susanna, claiming she was with a young stud under a tree, and they’d tried to stop this terrible sin of adultery. The young man got away, but the judges caught Susanna. “The multitude believed them, as being the elders, and the judges of the people, they condemned her to death.”
This was long before #MeToo, and while adultery was a sin for both sexes, it was a bigger sin for women. The patriarchs didn’t want free-range women begetting someone’s child.
Susanna called out to God, “I have done none of these things, which these men have maliciously forged against me.”
In stepped young Daniel, who said, “I am clear of the blood of this woman.”
He lectured the crowd for condemning Susanna “without examination or knowledge of the truth.”
He then conducted his investigation the way all good modern police officers do. He separated the two judges.
He asked the first judge under what tree did he see Susanna doing the wild thing with the young hunk. The judge said, “under a mastic tree.” That tree is where chewing gum comes from.
The second judge claimed Susanna did the deed under a holm tree, a type of oak.

Holm tree

The two lying judges had convicted themselves “by their own mouth.” They were killed.
So there you have it – a detective story with a victim, two villains, and a hero who knew how to search for the truth.
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Just out! A STAR IS DEAD, my fourth Angela Richman mystery. Publishers Weekly calls it “skillfully plotted” and says it has “witty dialogue and well-defined characters.”
Buy it now: https://www.amazon.com/Angela-Richman-Death-Investigator-mystery/dp/0727890166/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3P57RLYRP7F08&keywords=a+star+is+dead+by+elaine+viets&qid=1583967357&s=books&sprefix=A+Star+Is+Dead%2Cstripbooks%2C170&sr=1-1

By Elaine Viets

Have I got a first-page critique for you, TKZers – a biker, a strip club, serious money and the age-old struggle between mother and daughter. A winning combination in my book. Here, take a look. Then I’ll make my comments.
***

“Juliana, it’s time to grow up and stop being foolish.”

My mother and I had been locked in this loop for the last four days. Every morning, she descended from her five-hundred-a-day vacation perch on the lake and made her way to the trailer park to harangue me about my life choices. Of course, I had an open invitation to stay with her and partake in the luxury. After one night, I decided the natural stone hot tub wasn’t worth it. Being in her lair gave her more time to go on about all my failures.

“I’m going to be thirty-seven in a few weeks. I think I’m as grown as I’m going to get. I do not want to move to Houston,” I said with the flat monotone of a phrase well-rehearsed and often-repeated.

Rachel María del Carmen Delgado Martin could easily pass for ten years younger than sixty. She wore her vintage designer suit and cat-eye makeup like a queen. In contrast, my black jeans and tank top, still stained from work behind the bar at the Biloxi strip club, marked me as a refugee from a biker rally.

Evidently, my mother agreed. She pulled one of my wild curls straight and let it spring back. I hadn’t cut it since the FBI shut down the family law firm, and the jumbled mass was almost to my waist.

I grabbed her hand before she could start finger-combing my hair. “Stop it. I’m not five. I don’t need you to spit on a hankie and wash my face.”

“Well, you need something. A half-million dollar education and you’re living out here in that box with wheels. You’re better than this. Come to Houston. The co-op board needs a new lawyer. One word from me and it’s yours. You don’t even have to live with me, although you didn’t seem to mind after your surgery. There’s a nice two-bedroom unit on the tenth floor of the south tower, and,” she paused as if her next words hurt, “It’s yours.”

I choked back the sarcasm bubbling to my lips. For my mother to even think about giving away a couple of million in real estate; she was speaking from her heart. I wasn’t going to gain anything by being a bitch.

“Mom.”

My contrition was cut short by the rumble of a motorcycle pulling into my driveway.

***

I thought our Brave Author did a fine job of setting the scene: We know Juliana is 37 and her mother is 60. Mom has plenty of bucks and is staying at a $500 a night vacation place. She wants her daughter, who is 37, to leave the trailer park and her life as a bartender in a strip joint, and tries to bribe her with a job and a high-end condo in Houston.
As an editor, I would make some tweaks:

(1) The first sentence – “Juliana, it’s time to grow up and stop being foolish” – doesn’t have a tag. It’s obvious who is talking, Juliana’s mother, Rachel Martin. But just so readers don’t get lost, I’d recast it this way:

“Juliana, it’s time to grow up and stop being foolish,” my mother said. Again.
My mother and I had been locked in this loop for the last four days. Every morning, she . . .
That tag, or something similar, ties the first paragraph into the second.

(2) The next tweak is punctuation:
There’s a nice two-bedroom unit on the tenth floor of the south tower, and,” she paused as if her next words hurt, “It’s yours.”

It should read:
There’s a nice two-bedroom unit on the tenth floor of the south tower, and,” she paused as if her next words hurt, “it’s yours.” (It’s is lower case.)

(3) The parts of this sentence do not belong together:
For my mother to even think about giving away a couple of million in real estate; she was speaking from her heart.

Consider recasting it this way:
My mother must be speaking from her heart to even think about giving away a couple of million in real estate.

Finally, I’m not sure what kind of book this is. There are plenty of elements – the daughter’s wild life, Mom’s money, and the “FBI shutting down the family law firm” – that could make for a good mystery. On the other hand, it could be modern women’s fiction, examining the relationship between two headstrong women.
However, I believe the author throws too much at us too soon: What we really have here is the opening to a short story or other form of short fiction. For this to work as a novel, and avoid having the women become stereotypes (defiant rebel daughter vs. controlling mother), the author needs to introduce the characters a little more slowly, and build sympathy for both of them. We need to meet them a little at a time.

Congratulations, Brave Author. I’m intrigued.
How about you, TKZers? What do you think?
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A STAR IS DEAD, Elaine’s new Angela Richman, Death Investigator mystery, debuts in April. Publishers Weekly says it has “witty dialogue and well-defined characters.” Pre-order it here: https://tinyurl.com/uwj27lv

By Elaine Viets
The cat needs to go to the vet, the repairman is coming at three to fix the light switch, and the dryer is making a shrill squeak. When am I going to find time to write with all these household demands?
This is the writer’s dilemma, and after 35 novels, I’m still coming to terms with it.
Here are some suggestions:
(1) Have a dedicated space to work.
I’m lucky to have an office in our condo, with a view of the Intracoastal Waterway. My husband, bless him, prefers a room with no windows. Don says windows are a distraction. I’d get claustrophobic in his office. The landfill pictured below is my desk.

If you’re serious about writing, you need a place to work. A writer friend with a small apartment uses her daughter’s bedroom while the girl’s away at college – my friend loses her space at Christmas and spring break, but otherwise she has a good writing space. Another has a small desk tucked in a nook in the hallway. A third writes at a kitchen desk. No matter how small it is, stake a claim to some space in your home. And when the going gets tough and you’re overwhelmed by noisy spouses and children, head for the coffee shop or local library.

(2) Know your most creative time.
I get most of my writing done between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. After that, I’ll still write, but my work often feels flat. My brain really sparks during those four peak hours. After that, it’s better for editing.
(3) Seize the time you have.
If your husband takes the kids to McDonald’s, don’t use that time to sort socks. Write!
Romance writer Joan Johnston wrote her way to the New York Times bestseller list by writing her novels between 4 and 6 a.m. – while the kids were asleep. Now, that’s dedication.
What if you have a sick spouse or ailing children – or you don’t feel so well yourself?
That’s where your own determination comes in. I’ve written novels by my husband’s bedside when he was in the hospital, and edited proofs for the next book while waiting to hear from the doctor when he was in surgery.
Am I Super Woman? Heck, no! But I can concentrate for short periods. Writing is a way to escape a painful or scary situation. It can be solace.

(4) Make time
Remember the words of that rabble-rousing journalist, Mary Heaton Vorse: “The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.” You need seat time.
Try to schedule time-sucking activities after your peak writing time. If the cat isn’t deathly ill, make her vet appointment at 4:30 p.m. The repairman – if he deigns to show up – will start the repairs after your peak writing time. And for now, I’m ignoring the squeaky dryer.
Be ruthless when you write. Turn off your cell phone. Ignore the siren call of the internet, tempting you with cat videos, unanswered emails and Kim Kardashian’s latest lingerie photo. Use that time to write.

(5) A writer writes.
Make that your mantra.
I love being a writer. I enjoy talking to other writers at the Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime meetings, and hanging out with other writers in the bar at conventions.
But writing is a lonely business. Eventually, I’m going to have to go to my office, all by myself, and write. You will, too. Good luck.

Pre-order A STAR IS DEAD, Elaine Viets’ newest Angela Richman, Death Investigator mystery, here.https://www.amazon.com/Angela-Richman-Death-Investigator-mystery/dp/0727890166/ref=sr_1_1?crid=GSRN4WJRG8EV&keywords=a+star+is+dead+elaine+viets&qid=1578517051&s=books&sprefix=a+star+is+dead%2Caps%2C176&sr=1-1

By Elaine Viets

Today, another Brave Author gives us a first page to critique, The Blood Zone.
Let me take a deep dive into this first page, and then you, TKZ readers, can give our author your thoughts. Here’s the page, and my critique follows.

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The Blood Zone

They’d lost contact with the dive team over an hour ago.

Reece Jordan looked up from her monitors and through the foot-thick tempered glass window. The one hundred meters of water above muted the sun’s radiance. At best, it illuminated the depths like moonlight through a cathedral’s windows.

Her chair squealed as she shifted back to the screens. She did her best to ignore the sound. Everything creaked, squeaked, or shed rust flakes in an underwater habitat like Sirenica. On a bad day, her monitoring center sounded like a fleet of cars with worn-out brakes.

A rap-rap-rap came from the open hatchway. Jordan didn’t look up. She knew her boss’ tics better than anyone.

“Anything?” Dylan Sawyer asked. The woman’s short blonde hair clung to her scalp as if she wore a skullcap. Another perk of living in a high-moisture environment.

Jordan shook her head. “Not a peep. I’ve got both ROVs on a search pattern.”

The remotely operated underwater vehicles were the size of large dogs. They sported a pair of grasping claws on either side of a cyclopean camera lens. Each could operate long distances without a tether.

But the ocean was a big place.

“Shouldn’t have sent them down there in suits,” Sawyer muttered under her breath. “I told them we needed that fourth minisub.”

“Peterson would’ve said something if he felt uncomfortable.” That was an understatement. Peterson and the two other men on his team had a combined fifty years of experience working under deep dive conditions.

“Even three people can get the nark. At the same time, too.”

Jordan nodded. Nitrogen narcosis could hit hard and fast at this depth. A too-quick depth change could fog the brain as effectively as chugging a bottle of Tennessee whiskey.

Her monitor emitted a ping.

“I’ve got something.”

In an instant, Sawyer was up and looking over her shoulder. “Show me.”

Jordan tapped a few keys. The monitor switched over to one of her ROV’s cameras. Her breath whistled out through her lips as the image of two divers came into focus.

Peterson swam with a crab-like motion. His right arm curled around one of his fellow divers, dragging him forward through the water. Dark streamers of some strange material rippled from the edges of the two men’s suits.

“The hell is that?” Sawyer peered at the screen. “And what’s that black cloud trailing them?”

Jordan swallowed. “It’s blood.”

###                                                             ###                                          ###
Elaine Viets’ comments
This is an excellent beginning, with one major problem: Where the hell are we? As readers, we’re as adrift as the three lost divers.
This problem can be easily remedied in the third paragraph, Brave Author. Tell us about the underwater habitat, Sirenica. You say it’s rusting and noisy, but how old is it? How many people live aboard? What is their purpose: Are they oceanic researchers? If so, which ocean? Are they explorers on another planet, and this takes place in a sci-fi future? Let us know.
Otherwise, there’s much to like here, starting with the title, which immediately grabbed my attention. The writing is clear and crisp, and the various dangers are pointed out quickly: the divers could be lost in a vast ocean, or suffering from nitrogen narcosis.
A few nits to pick: I’d change moonlight through a cathedral’s windows to moonlight through a cathedral window.
Also, I’d say the woman’s short blonde hair clung to her scalp like a skullcap, not as if she wore a skullcap.
And is clinging, damp hair really a “perk” – a benefit? Or is it simply a “result” of living in a high-moisture environment?
And finally, you need a more specific object in this sentence: “Shouldn’t have sent them down there in suits” might read better as:“Shouldn’t have sent the divers down there in suits.”
Otherwise, you have a good beginning with a nice, creepy opening. Well done, Brave Author. I hope the rest of this adventure makes it to publication.

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Can you kill someone with a pink plastic flamingo? Read The Pink Flamingo Murders and find out. Win the new e-book version by clicking Contests at www.elaineviets.com