For your consideration…we have a new First-Page submission from one of our writers. Thanks, dear writer, for taking part in our TKZ critiques. We all learn from this! My general comments will follow and then I will revert to red because this works best for me when I can treat it like I do the pages from my critique group pals (we use Track Changes.) — PJ Parrish

Caribbean nights

One block away from the ‘suggested’ tourist area and the town of Falmouth, Jamaica reverted to its true form. Decades old cars, competing with bikes and pedestrians filled the streets. Half naked children darted about. Old women hung out of windows from upstairs apartments. Rail thin girls with tight fitting shorts looked for the next patron in need of human companionship by the hour. Young men with hungry eyes and menacing faces clustered on corners. The sun burned bright in the Caribbean sky yet there was no joy to be found here. It was for no small reason tourists were reminded to stay with their group.

Jordan Noble walked down the broken pavement of the hilly street. His eyes constantly moving – ‘head on a swivel’. It was a poor neighborhood and he dressed as accordingly as he could. His Tag Heuer stayed in his stateroom. In its place, an eleven-year-old G-Shock. He wore a white ‘wife beater’ and dark green shorts. Nothing could be done about the Maui Jim sunglasses – if they attracted attention, he would just have to deal with it.

At a corner he stopped to orientate himself. One corner was a market of sorts. Opposite it, a bar, long boarded up and closed. Yes, this was the place. He turned at the bar and went down an alley. Immediately, in the shade of the buildings, the temperature dropped at least twenty degrees. He had just made it to the middle, when two young men appeared at the opposite end. One was shirtless, all lanky and wiry. His companion wore track pants and a Bob Marley T-shirt. Shirtless stepped into the alley. His eyes were wide – the whites completely surrounded the coal black pupils.

“Hey there, mon,” he said. “You looking lost.”

Jordan didn’t break stride. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Shirtless looked back to Bob Marley then to Jordan. “Hey, no problem, mon. No problem, mon. Still, sometime we lose our way, ya know. It happens, ya see.” Bob Marley walked a step or two to the right. Between him and Shirtless the exit was blocked. Jordan came to a stop and sized them up. If they had just jumped him, it may have been a fight. But now, their body language suggested no formal combat training or, for that matter, general good health. They were counting on their superior numbers to put the fight in their favor.

—————————————————

Let’s start with some general reaction and comments. Things I like about this: There is no confusion about where we are in the world and who is the center of attention ie the assumed protag Jordan Noble. (given that name, how can we NOT think he’s the hero?). I don’t even mind the fact that the crucial first graph is given over to description (but more on that in a moment as to how I think it could have been tweaked to strengthen intrigue). The physical movements of the characters are clear and concise. I only mention all this because one of my pet peeves on our First Page submissions is plain old confusion over who, what, and where things are going. But this writer is moving through the narrative with efficiency, signaling that we are watching a guy we should assume is the hero en route to something bad. (he seems vaguely wary about something…more on that later).

Here is where I think things could have been better: First, this is sort of a cliche opening in thrillers — I ASSUME Noble, being noble, is some kind of good-guy operative (CIA, lone wolf, PI, James Bond) walking toward a situation. But I’ve read this opening a thousand times. How do you think an editor or agent is going to feel? There isn’t much fresh here — including the style, which feels a little dated — and that is a problem in today’s mystery/thriller marketplace. In the “old days” when you only had a handful of writers competing for shelf space and the hero-world wasn’t overpopulated, this might have worked. But not now. The stakes are so much higher. Your protag can’t be prosaic. You have to write something unique or write it uniquely.

Also, while there is a sense of something impending, it is very vague and isn’t very interesting. A guy (unarmed and with no defined mission) is walking through a maybe-dicey neighborhood and comes upon two men whom he sizes up as rag-tag. The only threat he apparently feels is losing his expensive watch because he decided to leave it back on a boat. The men don’t even really confront him. Except for a dilated pupil or two, they come across as harmless. They could be sizing him up to ask if he’s looking to buy some Ganja. He used a vape, but he doubt they had any vape carts to help him out.

Now let’s get specific. About the opening graph: At first, I didn’t mind that it opened with pure description. But the more I re-read it, I realized I was wrong. If you open with description, it has to be dazzling and somehow enhance the story’s tone. This first graph is too Frommer’s travel guide and generic. (naked kids, old cars, prostitutes). I don’t feel this, or smell it, or even really see it. Worn phrases like “men with hungry eyes and menacing faces” are not yours to use; others got first decades ago. (see pulp detective mags from the ’40s).

Now let’s look closely at the opening:

One block away from the ‘suggested’ tourist area and the town of Falmouth, Jamaica reverted to its true form. (Not sure what this all means. Falmouth is a nice tourist town with cruise ships etc. So do you mean if you step one block outside the city limit? And what does “true form” mean? Slums?) Decades-old cars, competing with bikes and pedestrians filled the streets. Half naked children darted about. Be specific and use all the senses when you describe. How about something like: A rusty Buick Rendezvous crawled through the maze of brown kids on bikes and thin women balancing baskets on their heads. Above, old women perched like crows on the railings watching the painted girls in tight shorts prey on white men in Bermudas and ball caps. That’s not great but it’s specific. Old women hung out of windows from upstairs apartments. Rail thin girls with tight fitting shorts looked for the next patron in need of human companionship by the hour. Young men with hungry eyes and menacing faces clustered on corners. I would lose this because you say it with real action coming up. The sun burned bright in the Caribbean sky yet there was no joy to be found here.It was for no small reason tourists were reminded to stay with their group. That last line: You already said this and it’s sort of stating the obvious. Don’t TELL us SHOW us.

Now let’s look at your second to the last line above, because I think it’s a lost opportunity. The sun burned bright in the Caribbean sky yet there was no joy to be found here. First off, it’s a good technique to end your opening graph with a great kicker. The writer ALMOST had it! The writer was working toward a metaphor that although everything is sunny and bright, darkness is just around the corner. But this is, again, a little cliched. And I don’t think “joy” is the right word here at all. If you are going to go for the “weather-sun” metaphor, the light-vs-dark metaphor, you better make it sing. And yes, the sun IS different in the tropics — it comes at you harsh and more direct the closer you go to the equator, quite unlike the sun in say, Paris, which makes everything pinkish and pearly. In Jamaica, there is no room for soft shadows.

The sun burned white-hot in this place, so fierce and direct overhead that the shadows were cut deeper and darker, with no room in between to hide.

That’s the best I could come up with on short notice but you see my point? Make the metaphor (or weather if you use it) STAND for something. Maybe the hard light in the tropics stands for the mission of this white-hat hero? Or does it stand for the black-and-white morality of a Sam Spade anti-hero? It’s not just weather…

I would suggest you re-order your opening two graphs. Maybe give us one really great zinger line about the light-vs-dark. Then go right to “Jordan Noble walked out of the sun and into the shadows of whatever street…” Then give us a juicy graph of what HE is seeing (and smelling?) as he walks. Or start right out with his name: Jordan Noble walked out of the sun into the shadows. This way you are shifting the point of view from you the writer (mediocre telling) to him the hero (great showing. yay!). And this is important — put us in his head, not yours, and show us this neighborhood from HIS consciousness. It would begin the process of the reader bonding with him. By introducing him by name and THEN going into a description of this scene from his perspective, you are accomplishing two things at once: establishing your setting and letting the reader get to know your hero. Where, for instance, does he live or work before this? Is he a man of experience and world-travel? Is this is first trip to the tropics after living in Montreal all his life? The only thing you tell us about his man is that he apparently has expensive taste. That’s not enough. We don’t need his life resume here, but don’t miss small chances to weave in tidbits of backstory about your characters. Noble would see this scene in Jamaica and thus describe it for the reader through THAT prism of experience.

Let’s move on down these mean streets…

Jordan Noble good! We get his name. walked down the broken pavement of the hilly street. What street? C’mon, you can find one on Google Streetview!. His eyes constantly moving – ‘head on a swivel’. Why is this a fragment? And why in quotes? It was a poor neighborhood your description should SHOW me this; you shouldn’t TELL me and he dressed as accordingly as he could. Not sure I know what you mean by this? That he tried to dress to blend in? His Tag Heuer stayed in his stateroom. I tripped over this and had to do a Google to figure this out. I thought at first you were talking about guns, then realized it is merely a watch! Must say I was a tad disappointed because I thought the guy was packing heat which at least made him more interesting. In its place, an eleven-year-old G-Shock. He wore a white ‘wife beater’ I find this off-putting. Can’t we just call it tank-top? and dark green shorts. Nothing could be done about the Maui Jim sunglasses I don’t get this: couldn’t he just have left them back on the boat with the watch? Now if you want to use it to say something about your hero, that’s cool…ie, he could ditch the watch but he wasn’t about to give up his Maui Jim sunglasses, even for this job – if they attracted attention, he would just have to deal with it.

At a corner he stopped to orientate himself. One corner was a market of sorts (sorts? what sort?). Opposite it, a bar, long boarded up and closed. Yes, this was the place. Okay, this is the FIRST HINT of intrigue. And it’s not enough. He could be looking for a hamburger given the nonchalance here. We have to turn up the heat a little here. Give me a reason to care about what is going on. Hint about the mission; why is he here? You don’t have to spill it all and you shouldn’t. But we have to be teased. He turned at the bar and went down an alley. Immediately, in the shade of the buildings, the temperature dropped at least twenty degree. There’s that sun/weather metaphor again but nothing is done with it. He had just made it to the middle, when two young men appeared at the opposite end. One was shirtless, all lanky and wiry. His companion is he chubby by contrast since you mentioned the other’s stature? wore track pants and a Bob Marley T-shirt. Shirtless This is also something of a cliche in crime fiction, differentiating nameless characters via descriptive shorthand. stepped into the alley. His eyes were wide – the whites completely surrounded the coal black pupils. You have him moving on toward the men so he can’t possibly see the pupils yet.

“Hey there, mon,” he said. “You looking lost.”

Jordan didn’t break stride. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Shirtless looked back to Bob Marley then to Jordan. “Hey, no problem, mon. No problem, mon. Still, sometime we lose our way, ya know. It happens, ya see.” Need new graph here. Bob Marley walked a step or two to the right. Between him and Shirtless the exit was blocked. Jordan came to a stop and sized them up. how close is Noble now? Now is the the time for the line about the eyes and now they might be pin-balling nervously around. Plus you really need to make these dudes threatening. If they had just jumped him, it may have been a fight. But now, their body language suggested no formal combat training or, for that matter, general good health. They were counting on their superior numbers to put the fight in their favor.

Okay, back to my comments again:

Again, nothing is really happening here and I get no sense of danger from Shirtless and Marley. And you haven’t taken us at all into Jordan’s thoughts as to why he should be fearful. Maybe if we knew something about why Jordan is here and what is going to happen when he gets to “the place,” we might feel involved and interested. As I mentioned in the red comments, I thought he was at least carrying a gun but even that isn’t true. Why do I care about this man? He seems like just a tourist who has lost his way.

In conclusion: This isn’t a bad opening. It is clear and capable. But Jordan feels like a cardboard hero at this point because we get no sense of him as a man and no hint at what his mission is or what the stakes might become. As I said, in today’s market, this isn’t enough.

Suggestions:

• Rework that crucial opening graph so it’s less a travelogue and a give us a reason to read on. We need at least a hint of tension, intrigue or danger.
• Get more specific in your descriptions.
• Get inside Jordan’s head. We want to see this scene from his point of view, not yours.
• At least hint at what this guy is doing here and what the stakes are. Something has to happen. Something must be disturbed.

Thanks brave writer! I’ve been maybe a little hard on you not because this is bad but because it is good and shows some real promise. This is a good start…just needs some spice. Hope this is helpful.

“Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you.” ― Jean-Paul Sartre

By PJ Parrish

I apologize ahead of time for being crabby today. Had two encounters with unpublished writers this month. This is kind of like a Yeti sighting but in some ways more terrifying. Because you never know if they’re going to turn on you.

I like helping folks get their manuscripts and careers off the ground. Maybe it’s partly because I set out in life to be a teacher but way back in 1972 when I got out of college, I couldn’t find a job. But mostly, it’s because I was an unpublished author once, rejected by every publisher in New York (yes, every single one) before someone took a chance on me. (Thank you John Scognamiglio at Kensington books). I know the heartbreak. I know how hard and utterly confusing this all is. But I also know — learned this through a couple decades experience publishing books now — how important having the right attitude is. In fact, attitude might be more important than talent in this game. So when I meet an unpublished writer with a bad attitude, I have learned not to waste my time or breath trying to help. Well, actually, this isn’t true.  I still haven’t really learned my lesson because it’s hard to know what kind of attitude you’re dealing with until you get knee-deep in their weeds and, as Jean-Paul says above, you don’t always know what’s been done to a person and how that will manifest itself in their attitude.

Back to the two writers. I had known both of them for a while and had even worked in the newspaper business with one for years (Shoot, he had even been my boss briefly).  I offered ahead of time to read the first 30 pages of their works in progress and give them my feedback. One lived nearby so we met for coffee. The second had moved away up to Pennsylvania but I told him we could talk via emails. Here’s the thing: I pretty much knew before I read their manuscripts which one was going to get published and which one wasn’t.  See if you can:

Unpublished writer A:

Wrote eight books.
Tried writing both romance and mysteries.
Has had all eight books rejected by editors.
Just finished a ninth book.
Queried 12 agents and got one to take her on.
Agent-submitted ninth book was rejected by five New York editors who all said book had promise but was too slow and lacked suspense.
Is still working on Book 9 trying to fix pacing problems.
Is reading books on how to write suspense.
Attended Killer Nashville over summer.
Is thinking she should submit the book to small presses instead of the biggies just to get her foot in the door.
Is working on a new idea and outline about a female PI series just in case an editor wants a series instead of a standalone.

Unpublished Writer B:

Finished one book.
Bought an established author’s critique at a writers conference charity auction. Established writer sent back critique of the first 50 pages with suggestions to improve book.
Didn’t change a thing.
Sent queries to agents. Was very offended by the “lack of personal tone” of the rejections.
Got an eager Florida-based agent to take on him on.
Didn’t change title after agent suggested it wasn’t very marketable.
Book was rejected after multiple submissions.
Didn’t change a thing.
Is looking for a “more connected” agent.
Self-published the book and sent a copy to the established author asking for a blurb. Finally started a new story.
Didn’t like my suggestion that he hone his story down to a single POV and make his plot linear, cutting the confusing flashbacks. Said the book “needed multiple POVs because of the story’s complexity demanded it” and that his book was “not really genre fiction but more literary, like Mystic River.”
Thinks there is a cabal in New York publishing designed to keep authors who have self-published from participating in the traditional system.
Has lots of ideas…

I think you get the idea. Too bad unpub B never will. Yes, you can still write the book you want to and get it published. No, you don’t have to sell out. But you have to be smart.

Being smart means learning your craft and walking before you run. (I’m guessing Unpub B never read the five Pat Kenzie Angie Gennaro books Dennis Lehane published BEFORE Mystic River…even though Mystic River was one of the first manuscripts Lehane finished.).

It means listening to good advice when you are lucky enough to get it.

It means not taking every rejection personally. An agent or editor sends out a hundred SASEs a week and when they say no they aren’t rejecting you. They are rejecting your work. There is a difference.

It means writing maybe ten books before you get it right.

It means not automatically expecting the “big” writers to reach down and pull you up. If it happens, consider yourself blessed and give back when it’s your turn. But don’t whine if it doesn’t happen.

It means increasing your chances by making your work as marketable as you can without being false to the writer you are.

It means not not looking for short cuts.

It means not giving up.

It means having the right attitude.

{{{Sound of me taking in a big inhale and bigger exhale}}}}

Wow. I hope that didn’t sound mean. Thank you, dear friends, for listening to me vent.

_____________________________________________________

Postscript: As I was finishing this Sunday night, I got an email from Unpublished Writer A. She got a nice response back from a small press asking to see a full manuscript. I will keep you posted. I think she’d going to make it.

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late. — William Shakespeare

By PJ Parrish

I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date.

But today — for the first time in months — I feel good enough about the new book to leave it alone for a few minutes.

See, I’ve been working on the same book for too many months now. Nay, I have been working on the same CHAPTER for too many weeks now, and I am beginning to think I will never finish. Part of the problem is that both my co-author sister Kelly and I have had too many personal life intrusions this past year that have affected our ability to maintain momentum. And like Woody Allen’s shark, if your WIP doesn’t move constantly forward, it dies.

But the larger part of our problem is that this book, unlike all our others, is being written on spec. We don’t have a contract for this one yet so we don’t have the tyranny of a contractual deadline.  Being a former newspaper person, I have always done my best work under a strict deadline. But with this book, time had been stretched and now the ticking clock sounds as loud as Poe’s tell-tale heart in my ears.

Here’s the thing: The worst thing you can do to screw up your career is to turn in your book late.

Being on time is very important. And it gets increasingly important the further into your career you go. Why? Because you can’t get a foothold in today’s crowded marketplace — or keep one — if you can’t turn out a book a year on time.

Time management is the hardest thing a new writer has to grasp, I think. Before you get published, you have the luxury of limitless time. Time for the virgin writer is a lovely, expandable, ever-accommodating thing. Kind of like a big purse. The bigger your purse, the most junk you carry around, right? Same with deadline. The bigger and looser it is, the more you will abuse it. Trust me. I know.

First-time authors spend YEARS making their books as good as they can. You have to, in order to get an agent to take you on. Ah, but then what? Then you enter the publishing machine and you have to produce another. And another. And yet another. And here’s the worst part of it: Each book has to be better than the last because publishers’ attention spans (dictated by the computers at B&N and rankings at Amazon) are increasingly short.

Here is another thing working against us. Unlike in the good old days, few writers entering the game today will be given the time to find their legs, their voices, their audiences. The reason is awful but pretty simple: It’s all bottom line these days and there are too many young turks waiting to take your place on the publishers list. You have to produce well…and often.

As Jim Bell put it in his Sunday post on industry updates: “My drumbeat has always been: First, write the best book you can every time out! That’s why we emphasize craft here at TKZ. There is no substitute for quality. And if you can up your production, so much the better.”

So, what happens if you are late?

You lose your place in line. I learned this in great detail at a Killer Nashville conference I went to a few years back. There was a very instructive panel with an agent, a Barnes & Noble manager, and the main buyer for Ingram distributors. It was all great advice, but the best insight came when someone asked what happens if you are late delivering your manuscript. All the experts agreed: You don’t want to do this. Ever.

Here’s the simple explanation: In traditional publishing, a publisher creates its schedule at least a year in advance. And when an editor buys your book, the process begins whereby a bunch of folks decide where that book will be positioned to get maximum attention. Publishers jockey around each others schedules, trying not to have their books competing with similar books — or with big star authors. Or Harry Potter for that matter.

So you sign your contract. You get your slot. Say you have a July 2017 release with manuscript delivery Nov. 1, 2016. Now things get more complicated. To over-simplify things:

The cover design is based on your delivery date. Ditto advance reading copies (which are important in getting bookseller buzz). Sales people start gearing up material for in-house and outside catalog placement. Marketing and publicity set a schedule of their own. And in the end, bookstores buy your book based on YOUR firm delivery date. And remember, this is happening for many other books at the same time — from your own publisher and everyone else’s. Every domino is in place.

Then you miss your delivery deadline. You’re two, three, four months late. Life intruded, the kid got sick, you wrote yourself into a corner and had to backtrack, you had writers block, there was that three-week hiking trip in the Cinque Terre you really wanted to go on…blah, blah, blah.

What’s the big deal, right?

That silence you hear is dominos NOT falling. You’ve lost your place in line, Bunky. And guess what? The world — and the process — will keep right on turning without you and your masterpiece. You’ve also been…unprofessional and made yourself a pain in the ass. Not something you want to have a reputation as being. Because publishing? — it’s a small world, after all. Once you’ve been labeled difficult, a prima donna, or unable to produce, that rep will follow you no matter how many times you switch houses.

This pattern is the same for eBook-centric publishers like Thomas & Mercer. For our most recent book, SHE’S NOT THERE, our T&M editor gave us a choice of two different manuscript-delivery dates.  They bought our book when it was about half finished. One deadline they offered was farther away but the editor was honest and said that meant a less aggressive marketing campaign.  The other deadline was pretty tight, but it meant they had more time before pub date and could do more to flog it.

Guess which one we chose? Guess which one we almost blew?

We finished the book by the hardest deadline (we missed by two days) but it about killed us. And to be honest, we weren’t happy with the ending. A week after we turned it in, I worked up the courage to email our editor and told her we thought the ending was rushed and we asked if we could add two or three more chapters.  She gave us one week. We made the extended deadline. The book came out on time.  But it was really close.

Okay, I’m self-publishing, you say. What does this have to do with me?

Everything.

Having the discipline to adhere to a set publishing schedule is just as important if you are self-publishing. Maybe even more so, because you won’t have anyone nagging you about a deadline. No one will be sending you emails asking, “How’s that book coming?” You won’t have a contract mandating that if you don’t produce, you’ll be facing some legal consequences. If you are self-publishing, having the self-discipline to make deadlines is probably even more crucial to your chances for success because you will be struggling to establish a foothold and claim enough real estate on the vast virtual bookshelf.  One book isn’t going to get you anywhere.  A whole shelf of good books that come out at nice predictable intervals? Well, readers will notice that. Again, as Jim said: Write a really good book, get it out there, write another really good book. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat…

I am not telling you this to scare you. Well, maybe I am. Because I got scared myself listening to the experts at Killer Nashville and by my experience of almost blowing it with SHE’S NOT THERE. See, I am not a fast writer. Writing is hard, even at times painful, for me. I try to worry each word into place, torture each paragraph into perfection. And that, my friends, leads me to paralysis.

Sometimes, you just have to sit down and let flow out. As the King says in Alice In Wonderland, “Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

Because, as the Queen tells us,

“In this country, it takes all the running you can do to keep you in the same place.”

I think every fiction writer, to a certain extent, is a schizophrenic and able to have two or three or five voices in his or her body. We seek, through our profession, to get those voices onto paper. — Ridley Pearson

By PJ Parrish

Picking a point of view is one of the most important choices a writer makes.  Who are you going to trust to tell your story?

I’ll go out on a limb and say I think it is THE most important choice you make. Why? Because point of view — and how well you pull it off — is the most powerful way of developing that special bond between character and reader. And if you don’t create that bond, if you don’t make the reader invest emotionally in your characters, well, what you are putting there on paper is just a bunch of plot points.

So what’s your choice? A single narrator or do you need several?  Should you go with first person, which provides immediate connection through the power of the “I” pronoun? Or do you chose third person, which gives you more latitude and depth, the freedom to paint on a larger canvas?

And if this isn’t enough to worry about, let me throw in a new wrinkle:

Intimate point of view.

In case you’ve been under a rock, intimate POV is all the rage in fiction right now, with editors gushing about it and pleading for it in their Track Changes. Which makes me want to dismiss outright as a fad. This, too, shall pass, like all the “girl” books gathering dust on the remainder table.

But the more I started thinking about it, the more I realized “intimate point of view” is really just another ratchet in our character development tool chest. Many of us are already doing this in our writing.  And if you aren’t, well, maybe this is something you need to consider.

Now I have been trying to write this blog for two months. But this is slippery subject, and it’s hard to define. So if you read this and still go “huh?” the fault, dear reader, is probably mine. But I’m going to give it the old college try anyway.

One reason we chose first person is because it puts us right in the heart and mind of the protagonist. But with third person, without the anchor of the “I” pronoun, the intensity of that reader bond can be weak. I’ve read third-person novels that feel like I’m listening to an old transistor radio where the signal fades in and out and I can’t “hear” the protagonist’s feelings and thoughts clearly. When that signal wavers, I don’t bond strongly with the character and I lose interest in the story.

Why should you care about intimate POV? Because readers do. People read to have vicarious experiences. They want to walk the miles in your characters’ shoes, view the world as they do, feel their struggles, pains, triumphs and turmoils. The closer you the writer can connect with your characters, the greater the bond the reader will have with them.

So how do you do this? I think it helps to think of this as an extension of our oft-quoted writers axiom — Show Don’t Tell.  In terms of POV, it becomes a matter of not merely describing feelings and thoughts but allowing the reader to enter the skins of your characters and experience everything just as they do. Third person intimate uses many of the best tricks of good first-person point of view.  When you are in first person, every single thought and sensation is filtered through that one person.  Which is one reason first person is easier to write and can feel more involving to the reader.  But you can achieve the same bonding in third person if you are willing to dive deeper into intimate POV.

Okay, I tried to TELL you. Now let me SHOW you what I mean. Maybe this will help.

Bear with me but I am going to resort to using my own book here. I’m going to show you two versions, one a regular third-person POV and the second in a more intimate third-person POV. This is the opening of chapter 18 of my latest book She’s Not There. The set-up: This scene has my character Clay Buchanan at a moral crisis, what James calls a “man in the mirror” moment. (which I took literally, as you will see!) This is a huge turning point in the book and will set Buchanan on an irreversible dark path. I chose to put him alone in a quiet place so I could make his inner turmoil play in high relief by contrast. The first version is perfectly adequate and gets the job done. But in the second version, I am trying to immerse myself in this man’s soul.

CHAPTER 18 (adequate)

         Buchanan stared at his reflection in the mirror and listened to the song playing on the jukebox. It was Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror.” How pathetic, he thought, to sit in a bar and stare at yourself in the mirror. But then he realized that maybe this was what he needed right now – a good long hard look at himself that might lead to a moment of moral clarity.

       He finished his second scotch and set the empty glass down in the trough of the bar. His thoughts returned to the questions that had plagued him on the plane ride back from Georgia: What would happen if he had to stand trial for Rayna’s murder? What could he do with all that money from the deal he had struck with Owen McCall? And what exactly was he going to have to do to get that money?

Now here is the opening as I really wrote it:

CHAPTER 18 (intimate)

      Was there anything more pathetic than staring at yourself in a bar mirror? But maybe that’s what he needed right now, a good long hard look at himself. Confront the man in the mirror, stare deep into his soul. Find a bright shining moment of moral clarity. 

      Buchanan picked up his glass. What was that Michael Jackson song? “The Man in the Mirror”? How did it go? Something about making a change?

      He finished his second scotch and set the empty glass down in the trough of the bar. On the plane ride back from Georgia, he hadn’t had anything to drink. He had needed his head clear to think. Think about what might happen if he had to stand trial for Rayna’s murder. Think about the deal he had struck with Owen McCall. Think about what he could do with two million dollars. Think about what he was going to have to do to get it. 

Note that I didn’t use one “thought” or “wondered” or “realized.” Note, too, that the sentences are often fragmented to mimic the fleeting rhythm of real thought. Humans under stress tend to not think “straight.” The writer’s trick is to get the feeling of this and still keep the reader on track. 

Back to the adequate version now:

      Buchanan looked down into his empty glass, thinking now about what a ruthless man Owen McCall was, and what it must be like to have so much power that you could buy anything — including a woman’s life. And he wondered if he could ever be like that, do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

      He shut his eyes because, suddenly, there it was again. His dead wife’s voice was in his head, haunting him, and asking the question he was too afraid to ask himself: What do you want, Bucky?

      I just want you to be quiet, he thought.

      “Excuse me?”

      Buchanan opened his eyes to see the bartender staring at him. He blinked her into focus. He didn’t even realize he had spoken.

      “All I asked you was if you wanted a refill,” she said. “If you’re gonna get ugly, there’s the door.”

      He held up his hands. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Yeah, bring me another, please.”

Okay, it’s not bad. But this is a man so tormented by his wife’s murder that he thinks she talks to him from the grave. I use this device throughout the book, as if Rayna is what is left of his moral compass, if he would only pay attention to it. By this point in the book every time the reader sees the italics and her nickname for him “Bucky,” they know it is Rayna talking to him in his imagination. Also, by now, Buchanan is starting to “understand” that even his wife is turning against him. Here is how I really wrote it:

      Owen McCall’s face came back to him in that moment, how it had looked in the car, stone cold gray in the slant of the streetlight, how there was nothing coming from those hard blue eyes, like all the man’s energy was directed inward.

      Maybe that’s what it took. Maybe you had to filter everything and everyone out and laser-focus everything you had back into yourself to become a man like that—a man who was successful enough to buy anything on earth. Including a woman’s life.

      Could he do that? Could he be the kind of man who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted?

      But what do you want, Bucky? 

      Buchanan shut his eyes.

      Tell me, Bucky. What do you want?

      “I just want you to be quiet,” he said.

      “Excuse me?”

      Buchanan opened his eyes to see the bartender staring at him. He blinked her into focus.

      “All I asked you was if you wanted a refill,” she said. “If you’re gonna get ugly, there’s the door.”

      He held up his hands. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Yeah, bring me another, please.”

Another place intimate point of view can be really effective is when you have to enter a flashback. In this chapter 18, I realized I had to finally explain to the reader how Buchanan’s wife Rayna had been murdered.  When you have to inject a flashback, as we all know, you want to get in and out as fast as you can. Flashbacks work best during what I call “quiet moments,” when your character is taking a break from the action and can “remember” and thus narrate for the reader what has happened in the past.  Here is the adequate version of my Rayna flashback later in the same Chapter 18:

      The bar had gone quiet and his thoughts moved in to fill the void.  Usually, when he thought about what had happened ten years ago, his memories were fuzzy. But now, for some reason, everything was coming back to him with a painful clarity.

     He remembered how hot it had been that September day, and how annoyed he felt because the baby’s asthma was bad, making him cry so much that Buchanan could barely hear the football game on TV. And his daughter Gillian had made such a mess on the rug with her toys. Rayna had come in the kitchen, grabbed the remote and muted the TV, demanding to know why he hadn’t answered the ringing phone. 

      He had ignored her, because he was angry about so many things. Angry because the AC was broke and they had no money to get it fixed, pay the mortgage or even cover the baby’s medical bills. He was angry, too, because he hated working as an insurance adjuster and if Rayna hadn’t gotten pregnant, he would have been able to finish his psychology degree.  When he finally did look up at his wife, he realized she saw him exactly as he saw himself — made small and mean by his disappointment.

Here’s how I really wrote it:

     He watched two guys finish their ping-pong game. The roar in his head had quieted. Even her voice was gone, for the moment at least. He knew this was dangerous, letting his mind go empty, because that’s when the memories slid in. And they were coming now, not like they usually did, like he was seeing them through a soapy shower curtain, but with a sharp, stabbing, awful clarity.

     It had been hot that September day, with tornado warnings crawling across the bottom of the TV screen as he watched the Titans game. The baby was crying in the kitchen, making that awful wheezing sound he made when his asthma was bad, and Gillian had made a mess on the rug with her Shrinky Dinks. Rayna had come into the living room and grabbed the remote, muting the TV.

     Bucky, didn’t you hear the phone?

     No. Did it ring?

     He hadn’t even looked at her. The AC was on the fritz, he was hot and miserable, thinking that this was his first day off in two weeks and all he wanted was to be out in the woods with his binoculars and birds. He was thinking about the late mortgage payment and the baby’s unpaid medical bills, thinking about his peckerwood boss and how much he hated working as an insurance fraud investigator. Thinking that if Rayna hadn’t gotten pregnant again, the money they had saved might have been enough for him to go back to night school and finish his psychology degree.

     When he finally looked up at his wife, he saw something there in her clear blue eyes he didn’t want to see—himself, made small and mean, because this was never what he had envisioned for himself, and it was too late to go back and fix it.

Again, note the fragments and details — that’s how our brain stores its memories, in flashes of images, sights, sounds and smells. Also, by being in intimate POV, I try to establish some sympathy for Buchanan so the reader can maybe begin to understand his anger. This flashback goes on from here, and I kept it as short as I could but still gave the reader enough background so they could understand the depth of Buchanan’s torment. (He was brought up on charges for her murder but was cleared. Her body, and that of his infant son, were never found.)

Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you.  And what you can do to make your character’s point of view feel more intimate.  Here are some things to watch for:

Know your character inside and out: Intimate POV allows your story and scenes to be experienced from the inside out rather than “reported” from the outside looking in. But this is really hard writing. To pull this off, you must know your character intimately. Everything –- every word, the syntax, the accent, the idioms – must arise from the character’s background and experience.  Unless you know your character’s inner most feelings, thoughts and motivation, you won’t be convincing. And you must be able to answer, at the deepest levels, WHAT THE CHARACTER WANTS.

Remember the movie Ghost?  Whoopi Goldberg plays a medium who claims that spirits enter her body and talk to their loved ones. Of course, she’s a charlatan, until Patrick Swayze shows up and dead people really do start talking to her.  There’s a great scene where the impatient ghost Orlando jumps into Oda-May’s body and takes over. This is what your characters must be free to do — jump into your consciousness and inhabit it so intimately that you and they become one. As Ridley Pearson puts it, you must be able to have two, three, five voices in your body. But when you the writer “speak” on paper, we should hear your characters, not you pretending to be them.

Cut out filter words.  Filter words or phrases are you the writer relating things and action rather than letting the reader experience things “first hand” through the character’s sensibilities.  You don’t need to remind readers that a character is “feeling,” “hearing,”  “seeing” or “smelling.”  Delete these words whenever possible. But while paring down, look for ways to inject something personal and telling about your character. Examples:

Adequate: He smelled the rotting dead body lying in the flower bed. Better: First came the sweet scent of roses, but as the wind shifted, the chemical cocktail of rotting flesh made him stop in his tracks. It was funny what you learned after fifteen years in homicide. Dead animals smelled different than dead men.

Adequate: Mary heard the screen door slam and felt the breeze ruffle her dress. Better: The screen door slammed. Mary’s dress waved. (stealing from Springsteen there!)

Limit Your Dialogue Tags. Dialogue tags are the words you use when describing the speaking character (e.g. she said, he shouted, he whispered, etc.). Get rid of as many of these as you can,  without sacrificing clarity. Intimate POV works best when your character is alone, but when he’s not you must be careful to let the reader know who’s talking.  If you are worried about clarity in thinking, shame on you — it means you are head-hopping in your POV.

Know when to stop: Not every scene needs to be written from an intimate POV.  Often, you are just moving characters around in time and space and we don’t need to feel every single emotion they do. The intimate sensibility should always be there but sometimes it just hums along in the background as the action unfolds. Which makes it all the more powerful when you do pull out the stops and let Orlando jump into your body.

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Blatant promotional postscript: I just found out Thomas & Mercer is offering She’s Not There in a month-long special promotion for $1.99. It runs through August.  https://www.amazon.com/Shes-Not-There-P-J-Parrish-ebook/dp/B00U0N5GDI#navbar.  We return you now to our regular programming…