Story 360 Conference Made My Head Spin…in a Good Way!

Lorin Oberweger, leader of Story 360 Writing Conference, and happy sttendee Debbie Burke

by Debbie Burke

The views from the top floor of the Centre Club in downtown Tampa, Florida were 360 degrees, vast and expansive. So was the content at the aptly named Story 360 Writing Conference I attended a couple of weekends ago. I came away almost dizzy from the talks by Christopher Vogler, Donald Maass, Janice Hardy, and other authors.

Don Maass is a respected agent, educator, and author of Writing the Breakout Novel, The Emotional Craft of Fiction, Writing 21st Century Fiction, plus numerous novels. His all-day master class on Friday, “Writing with Soul,” was packed with prompts and questions for writers to ask themselves. His style is not to present fiction writing techniques but rather to lead you up a ladder to the high diving board and push you off.

He reframed conflict, a typical requirement for stories, into provocation. Every line of dialogue is a provocation that requires a response. He said to a woman in the audience, “You look nice today,” to which she responded, “You want to get closer, take a better look?” That comeback brought down the house because it perfectly illustrated Don’s point.

He asked, “What event in your story provokes a response from your protagonist?” then offered possibilities: a compliment, an insult, a temptation, a dare, an embarrassment, a setback, a wound, a gift, etc.

Next, he asked, “What is your protagonist’s response to that provocation?” Beyond the primary responses of fight, flight, or freeze, he added diffuse, appease, dissent, ignore, judge, respond in kind, reach out in sympathy, walk away in disgust, or tell the world.

For the last choice, he described a guy in a NY Irish bar who is provoked and loudly announces to everyone there, “Did you hear what he said to me? Did you hear what that &%*$ said to me?”

The character’s response is what we as readers would like to do, not what we would actually do.

Don’s talk yielded 34 pages of hastily scribbled notes plus kept my mind spinning like a hamster in a wheel.

Thanks for a sleepless night, Don!

While talking with other attendees, I learned many of them are frequent flyers who’d taken Don’s classes previously and keep coming back. That says it all.

~~~

Side note: Several people had been to a conference years ago that featured the trifecta of Don, Chris Vogler, and TKZ’s own Jim Bell. I’d love to see those guys get the band back together again. Anyone else at TKZ in favor of a reunion concert?

~~~

Linda Hurtado Bond, Debbie Burke

On Saturday, I met Linda Hurtado Bond, an Emmy-winning 30-year veteran TV reporter in Tampa who’s also written six thrillers. Her latest book is All the Captive Girls set during Gasparilla, an annual Mardi Gras-style festival that celebrates pirates, drinking, pirate ships, drinking, pirate parades, drinking, pirate costumes…you get the idea.

She talked about how she had parlayed Gasparilla events into video promotions on her social media. Videos included her visit behind the scenes at the barn where parade floats are stored; a local bar/restaurant off the main drag that partnered with her to give visibility to both the business and her book; Linda’s Jeep decorated with lights driving in the parade while she, in a pirate costume, handed out beads to the crowd.

She acknowledges most introverted writers aren’t as extraverted as she is, nor do they have her recognizability from TV. Even so she advises authors to “Just be there” at community events because you never know what opportunities you might discover.

She recommends visiting bookstores, attending arts-related fairs, connecting with book clubs and book podcasters. To build your email list, do joint promotions with another author or a local business. Have something to offer—your expertise and willingness to answer questions; ARCs (advance reader copies); a book box with swag. As a breast cancer survivor, Linda participated in a fundraiser with her books as prizes.

Ask what you can do for the reader or audience. In other words, promotion is not about you, it’s about them and what they want, need, or enjoy.

I WANT to find out what high-octane vitamins Linda takes.

~~~

Sheree Greer and Debbie Burke

Sheree L. Greer is a Tampa-based author of fiction and creative nonfiction, as well as a business consultant, writing instructor, developmental editor, and new mom. She proudly showed phone photos of her bright-eyed, two-month-old little girl. She also admitted to new-baby exhaustion. However, not a trace of fatigue showed in Sheree’s vibrant presentation.

Sheree displayed a slide of two intersecting circles. One circle was want, the other was need. The oval where they overlapped was desire. Desire is the combination of wanting and needing something. She suggested a prompt to write about something you wanted or needed but didn’t get.

At age 35, Sheree’s need to stay sober intersected with her want to learn more about her past. That led to a desire to connect with her father. During their meeting he talked about his struggle with alcoholism. When she mentioned her age, he responded, “I was thirty-five when you were born.” At that moment, the common denominators of age and alcoholism linked them. She got to know herself through getting to know her father.

More prompts included creating a desire list for your character. Discover if the character shares her desires or hides them.

Three additional questions:

  1. At the start of your story, who knows about her desire?
  2. By the middle of your story, who knows about her desire?
  3. By the end, who knows about her desire?

Considering the character’s desire in that light was a fresh concept to me. It went beyond the usual questions about story stakes like what happens if a character fails, or what happens if they succeed?

Sheree also talked about interiority or the inner thoughts of a character. If a character is alone and thinking about themselves for too long, readers lose interest. Instead, she suggests focusing on the tension between the character’s inner wants/needs in contrast with the external happenings of the scene.

I DESIRE more insights like Sheree’s to lift my writing to the next level.

~~~

 

Janice Hardy, Sheree L. Greer, Debbie Burke, Eileen McIntyre

Janice Hardy runs Fiction University, an educational site she founded in 2009 that’s crammed with practical, actionable advice on writing. Her talk also focused on character’s wants and needs but from a different perspective. She says, “When want and need pull in opposite directions, the story gets interesting.”

She defines want as what the character thinks will make her happy; need is what will really make her happy. “Impossible desire” is the empty hole in a character’s soul.

When faced with a saggy middle, Janice suggests this is the place in the story to go deeper rather than wider. By wider, she means adding more activity. Deeper is where the author should force the character to make hard choices. Every choice must cause consequences in the plot.

The middle can feature false victories, where the character believes they’re making progress toward a goal but aren’t. Another possibility for the middle is false failure, where they believe they’ve failed but later discover the failure actually leads to success.

Janice recalled a conference when she experienced severe imposter syndrome. She was the unknown newbie on a panel with Lee Child and Maya Angelou. Janice understandably felt awkward and didn’t know what to say. Then those two luminaries admitted they also struggled with self-doubt at the start of each book. At that point, Janice realized self-doubt is normal for authors no matter how accomplished.

Janice is the author of a series of writing craft books. She’s also a meticulous, organized plotter, the polar opposite of my pantsing chaos.

I NEED to clean up my act, so I bought Janice’s book Planning Your Novel-Ideas and Structure.

~~~

Legends Christopher Vogler and Donald Maass

In the mid-1980s, Chris Vogler wrote a seven-page memo that famously blew through Hollywood like a Florida hurricane. The memo grew into the classic textbook for screenwriting and storytelling, The Writer’s Journey – Mythic Structure for Writers. The book has remained a perennial bestseller, including a 25th anniversary edition in 2020, and is still going strong.

Meeting Chris in person was the numero uno reason I attended the conference. My upcoming craft-of-writing book, The Villain’s Journey – How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate, is the flip side to the Hero’s Journey which Chris explores in depth in The Writer’s Journey.

True confession time: Although Chris and I had previously exchanged friendly emails, I was intimidated about meeting him in person. During the lunch break, I even had to call a friend for support. She told me to get my sorry cowardly ass into the room and introduce myself.

Well…I did.

Chris was warm, friendly, down to earth, and not at all intimidating. We chatted about my book, and he could not have been more gracious, encouraging, and supportive.

In his Sunday presentation, Chris explained archetypes are stereotypes but deeper. He talked about impressions on cave walls made by prehistoric people who had a deep need to leave their mark, to say I had a life, I was here.

He showed a slide with two sets of ancient footprints that had been preserved under ash for thousands of years. One set was large and one small, probably a mother and child running through mud while fleeing a volcanic eruption. They had left their mark for a roomful of writers who, centuries later, were still moved by their plight.

That illustrated the universality and timeless power of stories.

Chris introduced us to a collection of lesser-known Greek gods, along with their family lineage. Each was the personification of a particular quality or theme.

One example was Arete. Her mother was the goddess of justice and her father the god of safety and security. Those qualities blended in Arete who embodied grace, virtue, excellence, and perfection. Arete’s evil twin sister was Cacia (Kakia) who embodied vice and immorality.

Chris then displayed a slide of a related myth. In the historic line drawing, young Hercules is shown at a crossroads where he encounters two beautiful women. “Cacia” points at the easy road going downhill toward quick material riches. “Arete” points at the other road which goes uphill through difficulties but ultimately leads to immortality by leaving a lasting mark on the world.

The character at a crossroads who must make a choice remains a relatable theme that today’s characters still face.

The goddess Themis (notice the similarity to “theme”) established the laws of the universe. Her daughter Dike laid out the laws of the world and human life—the moral code. Dike’s evil twin sister was Adikia, goddess of injustice and wrongdoing.

Today’s characters still face dilemmas of right and wrong.

Agon is the god of struggle. His name is also the root of the words “agony,” “protagonist,” and “antagonist.” Still relevant and relatable in today’s stories.

Chris presented more gods and goddesses, too many to include in this already-long post. At the end of his talk, I asked him if he was going to write a book based on his presentation. He smiled and said, “I already have.” The manuscript is near completion.

When it’s published, I NEED and WANT to read it.

~~~

One last shoutout to Lorin Oberweger and her team who brought together a 360-degree world of vision, talent, and knowledge. A big thank you for a fabulous, memorable conference! My head is still spinning.

~~~

TKZers, have you been to a conference that made a lasting impact on your writing? Please share that experience.

~~~

 

Please check out my upcoming book The Villain’s Journey-How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate. Preorder now at this link and the ebook will be delivered to your device on July 13, 2025.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Characterization

Characterization – noun – a description of the distinctive nature or features of someone or something.

* * *

I’m reading The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt by Edmund Morris. I don’t read a lot of biographies, and although I’ve only finished a few chapters so far in this one, I so enjoyed the setup to Roosevelt’s character in the prologue that I thought it would be a good topic for TKZ.

The prologue is set on January 1, 1907 when thousands of people are waiting patiently in line to enter the White House to shake the president’s hand and wish him a Happy New Year.

Through the description of that New Year’s Day, Morris alternates between the story of the crowd inching its way toward the White House doors, and descriptions of Roosevelt’s behavior, personality, and impact on others.

Take this example:

“Roosevelt may be the fastest handshaker in history (he averages fifty grips a minute), but he is also the most conscientious, insisting that all citizens who are sober, washed, and free of bodily advertising be permitted to wish the President of the United States a Happy New Year.”

The author gives us a good look at the crowd, the weather, and the overall state of the nation’s wealth. He enjoys using quotes from Roosevelt’s friends and others to help us define the man, as in this quote from Joseph G. Cannon, the Speaker of the House.

“Roosevelt’s all right,” says Cannon, “but he’s got no more use for the Constitution than a tomcat has for a marriage license.”

Others were quoted as calling him a “faker and a humbug.” No less a personage than Woodrow Wilson said, “He is the most dangerous man of the age,” and Mark Twain declared Roosevelt to be “insane.”

On the other hand, one veteran politician noted that Roosevelt had “unquestionably the greatest gift of personal magnetism ever possessed by an American.”

Such diverse statements interwoven with evidence of Roosevelt’s popularity and his delight in the job of the presidency give us a three-dimensional person who is so much more than the textbook president who created national parks, succeeded in getting the Panama Canal built, and had the Teddy Bear named after him.

As the crowd snakes its way into the room where Roosevelt is greeting them, Morris describes the president’s physical impact on the visitors. He quotes English statesman John Morley as saying, “Do you know the two most wonderful things I have seen in your country? Niagara Falls and the President of the United States.”

Although Roosevelt is often remembered for his pugnacity, it was his diplomacy in brokering a peace between Russia and Japan that earned him the Nobel Peace Prize. He was the first American to win a Nobel Prize.

And Theodore Roosevelt endeared himself to me by this statement: “Reading with me is a disease.” He managed to read at least one book a day. His interests varied widely, and he was himself an author.

After pages of defining the man by his behavior and the opinions of others, Morris finally gets down to specifics about Roosevelt’s appearance.

“Were it not for his high brow, and the distracting brilliance of his smile, Roosevelt would unquestionably be an ugly man.”

Morris then dedicates several long paragraphs to that dazzling grin that was so famous “that envelopes ornamented only with teeth and spectacles are routinely delivered to the White House.”

And he doesn’t stop there. Speaking of Roosevelt’s “white and even” teeth

“… they chop every word into neat syllables, sending them forth perfectly formed but separate, in a jerky staccatissimo that has no relation to the normal rhythms of speech… His very voice seems to rasp out of the tips of his teeth.”

A colleague of Roosevelt’s described its effect. “I always think of a man biting tenpenny nails when I think of Roosevelt making a speech.”

The nuance continues through the long prologue giving us a 360-degree view of the optimism, energy, love of power, and determination of our twenty-sixth president as he drives through life full speed ahead.

Only at the start of Chapter One does Morris back up and begin to tell the history of the man.

* * *

Theodore Roosevelt was a larger-than-life historical figure, so describing the many dimensions of his personality may not be surprising. But reading Morris’s work has made me put some thought into descriptions of characters in my own writing. Direct and indirect characterization can be powerful tools to round out characters and give the reader an entertaining story.

* * *

So TKZers: How do you describe your main characters? Physical description, speech, behavior, opinions of others? How much time and nuance to you put into your characters?

* * *

Note: Once again, I’ll be traveling between old and new homes as we try to finalize this (very long) move. I’ll respond to comments as soon as I can.

 

Another Side of Sunshine

“The story excels at honoring the emotional realities of childhood without veering into sentimentality. It’s a smart, well-constructed mystery that values relationships over rivalry, process over prizes, and growth over glory. Fans of From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and The Westing Game will find familiar pleasures here, wrapped in fresh clues and grounded by a heroine who learns to trust her instincts—and the people around her.” —Prairie Book Reviews

Click the image to go to the Amazon book page.

Immersion Technique #WriteTip

Every character is the hero of their own story. Even the villain.

We’ve talked many times about the importance of fleshing out characters. This time let’s reframe the narrative for those who may not grasp the finer details of crafting a compelling villain.

It’s easy to tell a fellow writer to slip into the villain’s skin and view the world through their eyes—I’ve given the same advice—but for those who haven’t mastered characterization, it may not be enough.

  • How does one craft a killer when they’ve never committed a crime?
  • How can we champion a villain’s efforts with no real-world experience?

Sure, we can draw conclusions and make assumptions. Is that enough for readers?

  • Is there a way to pull from life experience, to really feel what it’s like to transform into somebody else?

Yes, there is. And it’s called immersion. Method actors use the same technique.

The dictionary defines immersion as “deep mental involvement.” It can also mean engagement, as in a mixture of how much you’re paying attention, how submerged you are in an experience, and how it affects you emotionally.

Immersion, whether real or imagined, taps into fundamental psychological principles like perception, emotional engagement, and the sense of presence. It involves a combination of sensory stimuli, cognitive engagement, and emotional resonance that creates a feeling of being completely absorbed in the experience.

Immersive experiences are rich and complex, drawing upon personal experiences, and engage with emotions through the manipulation of the five senses. They’re described as transformational, intense, sometimes hectic, and provoking.

What we see tells us a lot about the world around us, but what the body experiences is much more powerful.

How we immerse ourselves in a life unlike our own starts with walking in their shoes. Listen to the villain’s favorite music. Eat their favorite foods. View the world through their eyes.

  • What’s their culture like?
  • What’s their theme song?
  • What’s their religion, politics, and views on other hot topics?
  • Do they like the rain? Cold weather? Scorching hot sun?
  • Are they happy with where they live? Or have they been trying to escape the area for years?
  • What do they do for a living? Do they have buddies at work?
  • Are they body conscious and drink water all day? Or do they drink black coffee till noon, then switch to scotch?
  • Do they smoke? I’m not proposing you start smoking but you can pretend.

Even if the character’s actions rub against your values and beliefs, you must find at least one redeeming quality, or at least be able to empathize with a part of them.

Take Ed Kemper, for example. His mother was a severe alcoholic who favored his two sisters and never missed the chance to belittle him. Ed’s father, a World War II veteran, hated his wife. The couple divorced when Ed was still in grammar school.

Living with his mother was no picnic. She locked him in the cellar for days and/or weeks at a time—alone—a bare lightbulb hanging from a wire in the center of the dark and creepy space. Since the door locked from the outside, the only way out was through a trap door beneath the dining room table.

Trapped, Ed lay on the cold cement floor staring into the flame of the furnace. And it was then, he later told an FBI profiler, he saw the face of the Devil for the first time. That period of his life exacerbated his already fractured mind.

Later, at age 14, his father sent him to live with his grandparents in California. Interestingly, Maude (grandmother) was an extra in Gone with the Wind and a writer for Redbook McCall’s. Even so, Ed hated living there, calling his grandfather “senile” and his grandmother, well, this is how he described her…

“She thought she had more balls than any man and was constantly emasculating me and my grandfather to prove it. I couldn’t please her. It was like being in jail. I became a walking time bomb, and I finally blew.”

And blew he did, with the murder of his grandparents. Authorities sent him to Atascadero State Hospital, a maximum-security facility where doctors subjected him to various tests. One of which illuminated his genius IQ. They also diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic.

In the six years he spent at the institution, he became one of the doctors’ favorite patients. They even allowed him to assist in conducting tests on other inmates, until 1969 when they released him into his mother’s care.

Big mistake. At 6 ft. 9 inches tall and 250 pounds, Ed was a mammoth with a genius IQ and a rage inside him.

After killing and decapitating six young women, he finally turned his wrath on Mother—the true source of his hatred—murdering, decapitating, and using her head as a dartboard. He also tore out Mother’s vocal cords and shoved them down the garbage disposal. When the disposal spat the gristly innards back out, he said to himself,

“That seems appropriate as much as she’d bitched and screamed and yelled at me over so many years.”

With his personal monster dead, Ed turned himself into police. He had no reason to kill anymore. He’s lived at California Medical Facility in Vacaville ever since. As a model inmate, he’s allowed to work as an audiobook narrator.

If Ed Kemper was a fictional villain, how would you make him the hero of his own story?

We’d need to focus on the abused little boy, alone and frightened, that still cried inside him and the personable guy who doctors adored. Does that mean I agree with what he did? Absolutely not. But as writers, we must find a way to justify his actions. We must. Otherwise, the villain will fall flat.

Now, don’t tell the reader what redeeming qualities you clung to while writing. Show them a tidbit here and there—just enough to pique curiosity and drive the plot—that make him feel more human. Or let the hero figure it out on their own.

If the villain is a series character, only reveal enough to intrigue and drive the plot. I did this with my serial killer named Mayhem. In three books, I showed him as a merciless serial killer. I also showed his love of animals, especially his sidekick Poe, the crow, and how tender he could be when caring for a wife stricken with ALS and his close relationship with his daughter and grandson.

Mayhem loves fine wine and is an expert chef, but he’s offended by bad language and numerous other things, especially rapists, cannibals, and child killers. Readers fell in love with Mayhem. Deeply in love. So much so, I had to transform him into an antihero in later books.

Readers understand, even champion, why he kills.

We did the same with Dexter. Who didn’t love to watch him murder other serial killers? Genius on Lindsay’s part.

Find a different angle for your villain. Copycats aren’t unique or memorable. Villains are some of the most difficult characters to craft because they do bad things. I also find villains and antiheroes the most rewarding to write.

The next time you craft a character vastly different from yourself, try immersion. It works for the entire cast, including heroes, sidekicks, foils, secondary characters, etc.

The Heart of the Matter

Writing fiction is a mental and physical endeavor. But in different ways, heart is central, too.

Today’s Words of Wisdom reaches into the KZB archives to look at writing with heart, finding out what your characters love in their hearts, and summing up the heart of your novel in a slogan, thanks to posts by James Scott Bell, Joanna Campbell Slan, and PJ Parrish.

Lesson: If you’re going to get your writing noticed, read, published and re-read, you have to put your heart into it.

You’ve no doubt heard that before. At least once at every writer’s conference, you’ll hear someone on a panel say, “Forget chasing the market. Just write the book of your heart.”

I understand what’s being said, though I would tweak it a bit. You have to find the intersection of the market and your heart, then get that heart beating.

I’m a professional writer. I cannot afford to frolic in the fields of eccentric experimentation. But that doesn’t mean I only write what I think will make money.

There are those who have done that. Nicholas Sparks is right up front about how he chose his genre. He saw the tear-jerker-romance-by-a-male-author slot as a great business opportunity. David Morrell talks about this in his fine book, Lessons From a Lifetime of Writing. Morrell himself says he couldn’t do it that way. He has to have something “gnawing” at him to write. He has to find the heart of the matter.

It’s like when I was a criminal defense lawyer. (Spare me the jokes. When your son or daughter is arrested, you’ll call someone like me.) Anyway, defense lawyers have an essential part to play in our system of justice. It’s called upholding the Constitution. That’s what you have to believe when you’re defending someone who is pretty much cooked as far as the evidence goes. You have to believe that, or you’ll do a lousy job.

I write for readers. I write so that readers will enjoy what I write and buy my next book. But to do that, I have to find the heart of the story and ramp up the passion level.

See, the unexpurgated “book of my heart” would be a post-realistic satirical look at the philosophy department of a major university, written somewhat in the style of Kurt Vonnegut channeling Jack Kerouac.

Could I sell such a book? I don’t know. I know I’d enjoy writing it, but I also know it would be tough to sell a marketing department on it.

I could write it for fun, and might someday, but right now I need to keep earning a living.

So what I do is take my favorite genre, thrillers, think up concepts and then make them the book of my heart. I find ways to fall in love with my story.

The way it happens for me is through characters, getting to know them deeply, creating a colorful supporting cast –– and then scaring the living daylights out of them in the plot.

James Scott Bell—June 13, 2010

Here’s the Test

There’s an old adage: “Tell me who you love and I’ll tell you who you are.” It’s a great test to apply to our characters. Ask yourself, “Who or what does my character love?”

What Characters Are Driven to Do

Love is not only powerful; it also makes fools out of most of us. As authors we can use this primal drive to explain situations that would otherwise seem absurd.

Think back to Gone with the Wind. In the book, it’s Scarlett’s love for Tara that compels her to marry one unsuitable man after another. It’s her love of family that sends this fragile flower out into the fields to work like a common laborer. And her love of Ashley Wilkes forces her to remain beside his wife, Melanie, even as the Yankees approach.

Love Causes Conflicts of All Sizes

We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet, but love for life’s small pleasures can also cause our characters problems. Kiki Lowenstein loves food. Especially desserts. In many of my Kiki books, this amateur sleuth’s attention gets side-tracked when someone waves a particularly luscious treat under her nose. In one book, a nasty crafter ruins Kiki’s artwork while Kiki is too busy eating a gingerbread cupcake to keep an eye on her materials.

Telling Versus Showing

Of course, it’s not enough to tell our readers that our character loves someone or something. We have to show this emotion in practice. One way is by forcing our characters to make tough choices. When Cara Mia Delgatto adopts a Chihuahua with a broken leg, she doesn’t need one more complication in her life. However, she’s willing to adjust her world to accommodate the ailing pup because he’s a rescue dog, and Cara is all about second chances.

How our characters spend their time is another way we show what they value. If a character doesn’t spend time with his children, readers might assume they aren’t an important part of that character’s life. However, if a tattered family photo falls out of the character’s wallet as he pulls out a dollar bill, we have to believe his children matter, but something keeps him away from them.

Characters can demonstrate their love by their reactions. Perhaps your character’s voice changes when he’s talking to his wife. Or maybe your protagonist gets teary-eyed when coming across a man’s jacket in her closet. These responses show the reader a powerful emotion at work.

The next time you create a character, ask yourself who or what this particular player loves. Make a list. Using what you learn will help you build a more realistic, well-rounded character that readers will relate to.

Joanna Campbell Slan—May 6, 2015

All great stories can be summed up in just a couple words. And if you can’t boil your own story down to a juicy headline, then maybe you don’t really know what your story is about at its heart.

If you’ve ever had to write a concept or produce your own back copy, you know how hard this is. Or if you’ve ever tried to convince an editor at a writers conference to read your manuscript. This is known as “the elevator pitch” — you have to sell an agent your story in time it takes to go up four floors in the hotel elevator.

And when you do get published, it’s useful if you ever find yourself at a book signing and someone asks you, “So, what’s your book about?”

You don’t regurgitate plot. You give them the elevator pitch. And if you can’t answer in three sentences or less, chances are you’ve lost a sale.

Think about advertising. A pithy pitch sells the product. Take the slogan “A Diamond Is Forever,”  which has appeared in every De Beers ad since 1948. Diamonds are inherently worthless. Your ring drops in value 50 percent the moment you leave Zales. But with one slogan De Beers made a diamond into a symbol of wealth and romance. It perfect captures a deep sentiment — a diamond, like your relationship, is eternal.

Coming up with a headline or slogan for your story is a great clarifying exercise. It makes you think beyond mere plot and deep into that sweet spot where story, character and theme mesh.

Okay, enough lecture. Let’s have some fun.

Here is a cool little exercise to get your brain moving to think about story slogans. It was created by screenwriter Nat Ruegger. Take any common advertising slogan, like for Kentucky Fried Chicken or Volvo. Put it into the past tense and make it the first line of your book and see where it takes you.

I struggle coming up with opening paragraphs so I was leery. But I tried this with the Lays Potato Chips slogan — “You Can’t Stop At Just One.” (later changed to “Betcha can’t stop at just one.”)

I couldn’t stop at just one. Believe me, I tried. Maybe it was because I was so hung up on blonde hair, especially when it was braided, falling down a girl’s back like a piece of rope. My first had braided blonde hair. I strangled her with my bare hands, but for all the others after that, I used a yellow rope. I guess because I wanted to get the taste of that first one back again. The first is the most delicious, you see.

I almost went with Nike’s “Just Do It.”  It was inspired by the death row words of murderer Gary Gilmore — “Let’s do it.” Seems to me there’s a good serial killer first-person thriller that opened with “I just did it.”

Then I thought of Taco Bell’s slogan “Head for the Border!” That made me think of consummate storyteller Bruce Springsteen and his song “Highway Patrolman.” It opens with these lyrics:

My name is Joe Roberts, I work for the state
I’m a sergeant out of Perrineville barracks number 8
I always done an honest job as honest as I could
I got a brother named Franky and Franky ain’t no good
Now ever since we was young kids it’s been the same comedown
I get a call on the shortwave, Franky’s in trouble downtown
Well if it was any other man, I’d put him straight away
But when it’s your brother sometimes you look the other way

The song ends with Joe in squad-car pursuit after his brother, who has stabbed a man and is on the run. I could see a story beginning late in the scene with this line: “He headed for the border.” Here’s how Springsteen ended his song:

Well I chased him through them county roads
Till a sign said Canadian border five miles from here
I pulled over the side of the highway and watched his taillights disappear

One more. I next tried Clairol’s famous slogan “Does She Or Doesn’t She?” (Only her hairdresser knows for sure). It seemed ideal for a cozy set in a hair salon:

Did she or didn’t she? No one would ever really know. Because when Marcel Marseau, the owner of the chi-chi Palm Beach salon To Dye For, was found floating in the water hazard of the  17th hole of the Everglades Golf Course, we all suspected Lily Van Pulletzer.  But then her body was found stuffed in the butler’s pantry at Mar-a-Lago, and I knew this was going to be the toughest case of my career.

Okay, now you see why I don’t write humor. But you get the point. A great slogan can get your motor running when you’re stuck in neutral. And maybe if you can write a great slogan or headline for your story, you can figure out what you are really trying to say.

Now it’s your turn. Think of a good slogan and put it in the past tense. Pick first person or third and give us a great opening paragraph to a fabulous crime story.

PJ Parrish—October 6, 2020

***

  1. Do you have a book of heart you’ve written or that is waiting to be written?
  2. How important is knowing what your characters love to you?
  3. Can you come up with a slogan that sums up your novel? If you do, please feel free to share.

What is Your Character’s Wounding Event?

Characters need personal growth to achieve their goals. If the character seeks to improve themselves in some way — at work, in relationships, or spiritually — or defeat the villain, their fatal flaw will often sabotage early efforts.

Who they are and what they want is at odds with their fatal flaw, which makes it almost impossible to succeed. The character might not even realize they have this flaw until a situation, experience, or event triggers a tsunami of inner turmoil.

Fatal Flaw Defined

A fatal flaw refers to a character trait that leads to their downfall. The term fatal flaw implies the character is heroic and admirable in many other ways. Even the fatal flaw itself could be considered admirable in a different situation but it hinders them in the storyline.

The TKZ archive has several articles about character flaws (here, here, and here, to name a few).

But where does their fatal flaw stem from?

Often, the past is to blame. It doesn’t necessarily need to be from the character’s childhood, though it can be. Was the character abandoned as a child, emotionally, physically, or both? If so, they’d deal with abandonment and/or trust issues as an adult. Or perhaps, their fatal flaw stems from the opening scene in the novel.

What happened to the character to create the inner turmoil within them? We call this the “wounding event,” and it’s crucial to understand the character on an emotional level.

Many factors play a role in determining who we — and our characters — become in life, including environment, mentors/teachers, parents, genetics, and how they were raised. Life is filled with flawed people, all battling their own demons, some more than others. Specific events and long-term exposure to unhealthy ideals, behaviors, and relationships all play a role in shaping a human or fictional character.

The Wounding Event

The most crippling is emotional trauma. Unresolved pain — the wounding event — should impact the character’s life. This defining emotional experience from a character’s past is so debilitating they’ll do anything to avoid that pain again. It colors how they view the world and alters what they believe about themselves and others. The trauma instills a deep fear that it may happen again if the character doesn’t protect themselves.

Or perhaps, your character has a physical defect with long-lasting psychological effects, such as a crippling illness, birth defect, scarring, or disfigurement. The mistaken belief that the character must harden themselves to feel emotionally safe is what allows negative traits to emerge.

The wounding event creates a core belief or insecurity that manifests as a character flaw, causing them to act defensively or in self-sabotaging ways to avoid reliving the pain. The wounding event also refers to a traumatic experience that significantly impacts the character’s psychology and development, or a set of deeply ingrained fears that shape how they interact with the world. It’s the pivotal moment that created the underlying emotional wound that drives their behavior.

Whatever wounding event you choose when crafting a character, it should be hinted at or shown on the page. This will help the reader relate to, and empathize with, the character. It’ll also explain their actions.

At some point in the novel, the character must face their fears — an important scene in the character arc is about confronting and healing from their wounding event.

The ideal placement is about the midpoint. This confrontation within themselves gives the character the inner strength to overcome their fatal flaw and spins the story in a new direction, with a clearer perspective on how to proceed. Or they figure out how to use their fatal flaw to their advantage “through a vein of moral rightness,” as JSB said in an article about character.

Sounds a lot like the mirror moment, doesn’t it? 😉

Secondary flaws can also arise from the wounding event, which will compromise the character’s path and prevent them from reaching their full potential.

Wounds are powerful. Taking the time to probe your character’s past to unearth their wounding event will help you — and the reader — better understand what motivates them and their behavior.

For discussion, what fictional wounding event has stuck with you? To avoid spoilers, only include the title if the wounding event occurs early in the novel.

Or tell us about your character’s wounding event and the fatal flaw that followed.

More Villainous Words of Wisdom

Today’s Words of Wisdom returns to an evergreen topic: villains. We love to hate them.  Our fiction needs them. They help drive the plot. Understanding the importance of villains can be the key to writing more engaging and gripping mysteries and thrillers.

Clare Langley-Hawthorne, James Scott Bell and Debbie Burke give advice and tips on creating better villains in your fiction. Afterwards, please give us your take.

It can often be all too easy to fall for the ‘psychotic’ serial killer or other sort of evil cliche without trying to provide for the reader a solid grasp of what lies behind this. Villains rarely consider themselves villains. Sometimes they feel justified (in their own perverted way) or compelled by something to do what they do. Unlike in real life, in fiction, we can often provide the reader with a rationale for someone’s behaviour.

So how do you create a believable villain? How do you ensure that, when it comes to the battle between good and evil, neither side slides into caricature? I’ve been thinking about this a lot in my current WIP and I have some to a few conclusions (or observations, at least) as I go through this process:

1. Characters don’t think they are dumb so don’t make them do ‘dumb’ things just because they are (cue manic Dr. Evil laughter) the bad guy.
2. Don’t fall into the trap of making evil generic. For every character there needs to be a specific reason, cause or motivation for his or her behaviour. The more specific and believable this is, the more believable a character will be.
3. Give you villain a clear objective. I’m not a big fan of the psycho who just seems to do stuff because he is, well, ‘psycho’ – this always seems to the to dilute the power of having an antagonist.
4. Think as much about the back story for your villain as you do for the protagonist of the story – this will ensure the character behaves consistently and with clear purpose. It also helps you avoid falling into a cliche if you have a fully realized back story.

Clare Langley-Hawthorne—July 23, 2012

 

Dean Koontz wrote, “The best villains are those that evoke pity and sometimes even genuine sympathy as well as terror. Think of the pathetic aspect of the Frankenstein monster. Think of the poor werewolf, hating what he becomes in the light of the full moon, but incapable of resisting the lycanthropic tides in his own cells.”

All this to say that the best villains in fiction, theatre, and film are never one-dimensional. They are complex, often charming, and able to manipulate. The biggest mistake you can make with a villain is to make him pure evil or all crazy. 

So what goes into crafting a memorable villain?

  1. Give him an argument

There is only one character in all storytelling who wakes up each day asking himself what fresh evil he can commit. This guy: 

But other than Dr. Evil, every villain feels justified in what he is doing. When you make that clear to the reader in a way that approaches actual empathy, you will create cross-currents of emotion that deepen the fictive dream like virtually nothing else.

One of the techniques I teach in my workshops is borrowed from my courtroom days. I ask people to imagine their villain has been put on trial and is representing himself. Now comes the time for the closing argument. He has one opportunity to make his case for the jury. He has to justify his whole life. He has to appeal to the jurors’ hearts and minds or he’s doomed.

Write that speech. Do it as a free-form document, in the villain’s voice, with all the emotion you can muster. Emphasize what’s called “exculpatory evidence.” That is evidence that, if believed, would tend to exonerate a defendant. As the saying goes, give the devil his due. 

Note: This does not mean you are giving approval to what the villain has done. No way. What you are getting at is his motivation. This is how to know what’s going on inside your villain’s head throughout the entire novel.

Want to read a real-world example? See the cross-examination of Hermann Goering from the Nuremberg Trials. Here’s a clip:

“I think you did not quite understand me correctly here, for I did not put it that way at all. I stated that it had struck me that Hitler had very definite views of the impotency of protest; secondly, that he was of the opinion that Germany must be freed from the dictate of Versailles. It was not only Adolf Hitler; every German, every patriotic German had the same feelings. And I, being an ardent patriot, bitterly felt the shame of the dictate of Versailles, and I allied myself with the man about whom I felt perceived most clearly the consequences of this dictate, and that probably he was the man who would find the ways and means to set it aside. All the other talk in the Party about Versailles was, pardon the expression, mere twaddle … From the beginning it was the aim of Adolf Hitler and his movement to free Germany from the oppressive fetters of Versailles, that is, not from the whole Treaty of Versailles, but from those terms which were strangling Germany’s future.

How chilling to hear a Nazi thug making a reasoned argument to justify the horrors foisted upon the world by Hitler. So much scarier than a cardboard bad guy.

So what’s your villain’s justification? Let’s hear it. Marshal the evidence. Know deeply and intimately what drives him.

  1. Choices, not just backstory

It’s common and perhaps a little trite these days to give the villain a horrific backstory and leave it at that. 

Or, contrarily, to leave out any backstory at all.

In truth, everyone alive or fictional has a backstory, and you need to know your villain’s. But don’t just make him a victim of abuse. Make him a victim of his own choices.

Back when virtue and character were actually taught to children in school, there was a lesson from the McGuffey Reader that went like this: “The boy who will peep into a drawer will be tempted to take something out of it; and he who will steal a penny in his youth will steal a pound in his manhood.” 

The message, of course, is that we are responsible for our choices and actions, and they have consequences. 

So what was the first choice your villain made that began forging his long chain of depravity? Write that scene. Give us the emotion of it. Even if you don’t use the scene in your book, knowing it will give your villain scope.

James Scott Bell—October 26, 2014

 

I wrote mysteries like I read mysteries, from a state of ignorance, constantly trying to figure out what was going on.

I had a general idea of the bad guy’s motive, but never paid much that attention to the schemes and machinations happening offstage. All action took place onstage because the first or close third POV required the sights, sounds, smells, and emotions be filtered through the protagonist only. My focus stayed stuck on the hero.

The bad guy hid in the shadows behind the curtain until the big reveal at the end. Unfortunately he’d been hiding from the writer too!

Finally, thanks to the wise folks at TKZ, I recognized the big fat blind spot in my books.

Here’s the epiphany:

In crime fiction, the antagonist drives the plot. Unless a crime has been committed, or is about to be committed, there’s nothing for the protagonist to do. The antagonist acts, the protagonist re-acts.

I’d been following the wrong character around all these years! 

My realization probably seems like a big DUH to many crime authors. But I’m sharing it in hopes of helping others like myself who overlooked the obvious.

It’s fun to think like a villain! When I started writing from the bad guy’s POV, a whole new world opened up—a world without conscience, constraints, or inhibitions.

Jordan’s great post from last May says, “The best villains are the heroes of their own stories.” 

Actor Tom Hiddleston says, “Every villain is a hero in his own mind.” Most actors would prefer to sink their fangs into the role of a great villain than play the good guy.

The baddies in my earlier books had been flat and dull because I’d never gotten inside their heads. Finally, the missing element became clear and…my book won a publishing contract!

Why is the villain willing to steal, cheat, and kill? What rationalizations justify the harm done to others? 

A sociopath comes up with perfectly logical justifications and excuses for abhorrent actions.

Irresistible influences like greed, power, and lust can seduce an ordinary person over to the dark side.

Misguided righteousness can lead to horrendous consequences.

A law-abiding citizen may be forced into a corner where he commits acts he would never do under normal circumstances.

If an author roots around in the antagonist’s brain for a while, background, reasons, and rationalizations for antisocial behavior bubble up. Armed with such knowledge, it becomes impossible to write a two-dimensional character. Jim Bell offers a great technique—try to imagine the villain delivering the closing argument to the jury that will determine his fate.

Do you show the villain’s POV in the story or not? That choice is contingent on subgenre.

In a whodunit mystery, the identity of the villain is typically a surprise at the end. Therefore, that POV is generally not shown to the reader, although some authors include passages from the villain’s POV without revealing the identity.

Suspense and thriller novels often are written from multiple POVs, including the villain’s. When the reader knows early on who the bad guy is, the question is no longer whodunit, but rather will s/he get away with it?

The author can choose to show the antagonist’s POV or keep it hidden. But either way, you need to be aware of it because that’s what’s driving the story forward.

Even if you never show the villain’s POV, try writing scenes inside his/her head.You don’t need to include them in the book, but the act of writing them gives you a firmer grasp on that character’s deep desires and how those desires screw up other people’s lives. Once you really understand what the antagonist is striving for, that provides a solid framework from which the story hangs.

If you’re in a corner and your hero doesn’t know what to do next, check in with the villain. While the hero is slogging through steps A, B, and C to solve the crime, the bad guy is offstage setting up roadblocks D, E, and F to keep from being caught.

Debbie Burke—September 28, 2017

***

There you have it, advice on writing villains. Today the authors of our three excerpted posts pose the questions to help jumpstart our discussion:

  1. So how do you approach the process of creating villains? Are there any ‘evil doers’ in novels that strike you as the ‘dumb and dumber’ of their kind? What about the most chilling, compelling and believable villains in fiction?
  2. What’s your approach to villain writing?
  3. What is your villain doing right now? Do you prefer to show the antagonist’s POV or keep it hidden?

 

Oh, What a Feeling: How to Show Character Emotions

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Don’t talk of stars burning above. If you’re in love, show me!
Tell me no dreams filled with desire. If you’re on fire, show me!
– Eliza Dolittle in My Fair Lady

How to describe a character’s emotions is, of course, one of the most important tools in the fiction toolbox, right next to the plot caulk, the dialogue drill, and the scene saw.

And there are, as we all know, two choices: showing and telling. A good many critique group sheriffs will insist that you must never tell (name) an emotion. Never a simple Nancy was worried or Bob was frightened.

Well, I shot the sheriff (figuratively speaking!). It all depends on what I call The Intensity Scale. Think about the emotional intensity of a scene on a scale of 1-10, with 1 being nearly catatonic and 10 a loss of control like the “Leave Britney alone!” guy. And think of 5 as the demarcation line.

A scene can travel, and usually does, from below the line to above the line.

My rule guideline is that any emotion below 5 can, and usually should, be named. If Nancy is worried about how the meatloaf will turn out, you don’t have to go into sweaty palms and racing heart. That’s too much (unless the meatloaf is being prepared for Hannibal Lecter and the cops are nearby). Just write, Nancy was worried about the meatloaf.

But when you go over 5, you should show the emotion. The goal is to help the reader feel, not just know, what the emotion is.

So how do we show when we’re in the intense portion of a scene?

Nancy Kress, my former colleague at Writer’s Digest, had a great article on that in the January, 1993 issue. She gives five ways. Here they are, with my comments.

Physical Reaction

This is the one we usually go to first. Because it’s effective. Rendering how the character feels physically helps the reader vicariously feel it, too.

The trick is to find original ways to do it. Readers are used to sweaty palms, racing hearts, and twisting guts.

Does that mean never using them? Not at all. Just give them a little boost:

Her hands were slick and slippery now.

Her heart thrummed like a souped-up engine.

His stomach rocked in a greasy hammock. (This is like something I read once in a Stephen King story, but can’t remember which one. Anyway, you get the idea).

So: Don’t just grab the first description that comes to you. Play around a little. Add your touch of originality.

Action

Actions speak louder than words, right? You can always show the character doing something as a result of the emotion.

Again, watch out for the instant answer. An angry boss pounding his fist on the table, for example. That’s expected. Add something to it.

How about pounding a coffee mug down, spilling the brew?

How about yanking out a drawer, scrambling the contents?

A good exercise is to visualize the moment and let your character improvise, try different things. Go a little wild. You’ll hit on something surprising that seems right. When that happens, you know it will surprise the reader, too.

And a surprised reader is a delighted reader.

Dialogue

What a character says in the context of a scene should reveal emotion. And the way you can tell if you’ve succeeded is that you don’t need an adverb to make it clear.

Not:

“Get out of here, John!” Nancy said angrily.

“That’s the last time I pet a lion,” said Tom offhandedly.

No finer example of how it’s done is this clip from Hemingway’s story “Hills Like White Elephants.” A man and woman are sitting at a train station, sipping drinks, as the man jauntily tries to tell the woman that an abortion is no problem. (The mastery of the story is that the word abortion is never used).

“Then what will we do afterward?” [Says the woman]

“We’ll be fine afterward. Just like we were before.”

“What makes you think so?”

“That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing that’s made us unhappy.”

The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the string of beads.

“And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.”

“I know we will. You don’t have to be afraid. I’ve known lots of people that have done it.”

“So have I,” said the girl. “And afterward they were all so happy.”

That last line hits hard. We know how she feels from the context and word choice. We don’t need said the girl sarcastically.

Setting

We waste a description of setting if we don’t use it for “double duty.” It should add to the tone of the story and reflect the character’s emotion.

In “All That You Love Will Be Carried Away,” a short story about a man’s darkest moment, Stephen King begins this way:

It was a Motel 6 on I-80 just west of Lincoln, Nebraska. The snow that began at midafternoon had faded the sign’s virulent yellow to a kinder pastel shade as the light ran out of the January dusk. The wind was closing in on that quality of empty amplification one encounters only in the country’s flat midsection.

Fading light, dusk, wind, emptiness. We are being set up to feel the inner life of the character even before we meet him.

Thoughts

This is, I think, the most powerful way to convey emotion, because it’s coming directly from inside the character. It’s also the best opportunity for originality, as there are an infinite variety of choices under two main headings: explicit and implicit. Here’s an example of explicit emotion.

I can’t open this door. I just can’t. John will kill me. But I have to. I have to.

Implicit emotion can be proffered by way of metaphor (A thousand devils poked his brain with pitchforks), dreams, and memories.

And example of using a dream is the beginning of Chapter 15 of The City by Dean Koontz:

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

Here’s an example of memory from my novel, Your Son is Alive:

He was surrounded by cops, touched by strong hands, hearing voices, but they were growing distant, and he went into another world, long ago, seeing the Mickey Mouse balloon from Disneyland when he was four, and his dad tied the string around his wrist. But he wanted to hold it himself so he slipped the string off his wrist and held the balloon and waved it around. Then had to scratch his back and somehow the string got away, and the balloon went up, up, up and he said Oh no oh no oh no, and he could only watch, helpless, his grief expanding because Mickey was all alone in the sky, no one to help him. Unmoored.

So try this:

Go to any scene in your WIP and ask:

  • Where do the moments fall on the Intensity Scale?
  • Do I show or tell intense emotions?
  • How might I use or more of the 5 ways?
  • How can I “originalize” the showing?

Jim Butcher says the emotional component of his books is the secret of their popularity. In writing about scene and sequel, where sequel = emotion, he writes:

People don’t love Harry [Dresden] for kicking down the monster’s front door. They love him because he’s terrified out of his mind, he knows he’s putting himself in danger by doing it, he’s probably letting himself in for a world of hurt even if he is successful, but he chooses to do it anyway. Special effects and swashbuckling are just the light show. The heart of your character—and your reader—is in the sequel.

Comments welcome.

Seven Questions to Test Your Characters

By Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

How characters act under stress is one of the best techniques to show what they’re made of.

Photo credit: Lisa Brewster, CC-BY-SA 2.0

 

 

If there’s a minor hiccup in their routine, do they take it in stride or become a drama llama?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When life delivers an unexpected setback, do they pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and make a new plan? Or do they stand around wondering “why me”?

 

 

 

 

 

Photo credit: Pixabay

 

 

A catastrophe threatens their lives or the lives of others. Do they freeze, flee, or run toward the disaster?

 

 

 

 

Whether large or small, a crisis brings out new aspects of the character’s personality, thought processes, emotional reactions, strengths, and weaknesses.

Are they courageous? Cowardly? Indecisive? Altruistic? Sneaky? Conniving? Manipulative? Driven by selfish interests?

Do they take charge and tackle the problem head on? Or do they avoid it until forced to face it?

Recently I ran across a 1980 book by Terrence Des Pres entitled: The Survivor-An Anatomy of Life in the Death Camps. He did extensive research, studying the differing reactions of people who survived the Holocaust vs. those who didn’t.

In the introduction, he wrote:

“It turns out that survival is an experience with a definite structure, neither random nor regressive nor amoral. The aim of this book has been to make that structure visible.”

Two of his conclusions were startling.

First, newly arrived prisoners had the highest death rate.

Second, criminals had the highest survival rate.

Why?

Newcomers often froze. They went into shock and denial. They couldn’t adjust physically, mentally, or psychologically to their horrifying new circumstances. That paralysis and inability to adapt led to high death rates.

Criminals, on the other hand, adapted better and survived at a higher rate. Because they were used to living outside of society’s rules and norms, they changed their behavior more easily to avoid being caught in the daily dangers of the camps.

How do your characters handle stress? Do they freeze and withdraw? Do they pivot in a new direction? Do they react impulsively? Do they make a rational plan to overcome difficulty? Do they wait/hope for someone else to solve the problem? Do they seek guidance or cooperation from others, or are they lone wolves? Do they manipulate the situation to their advantage?

Here’s an unscientific quiz to test the mettle of characters in your WIP. The questions range from trivial annoyances to life-or-death disasters.

How characters react to small problems may indicate how they treat more serious trials.

Or not. A character who appears fragile or weak on the surface may rise up to show hidden strengths or talents.

Try running all your major characters through the quiz—protagonist and antagonist, as well as secondary characters who play important roles like partners, love interests, family, coworkers, mentors, etc. See what each one does. Discover what conclusions you can draw from their behavior.

There are no right or wrong, good or bad answers. The only meaningful answer is whether a character’s reaction is authentic and true to their personality.

Question #1 – Your character runs out of shampoo in the shower. What does s/he do?

  1. Screams for someone else to bring more shampoo.
  2. Uses soap instead even though it leaves hair greasy.
  3. Says screw it and finishes with water only.
  4. Wraps up in a towel and drips down the hall to find more shampoo.
  5. Fill in a different answer.

Question #2 – In a remote location without cell service, your character’s car doesn’t start. The only other vehicle around is a stick shift, which your character never learned to drive. What does s/he do?

  1. Tries to call Triple A, hoping for a signal.
  2. Tinkers under the hood to try to start it.
  3. Starts walking.
  4. Drives the unfamiliar vehicle, even though the gears grind.
  5. Remains in the broken-down car with windows up and doors locked.
  6. Jacks the first car that comes along.
  7. Fill in a different answer.

Question #3 – Your character lands in a foreign country and doesn’t speak the language. Luggage is lost and a pickpocket steals passport, credit cards, and cash. What does s/he do?

  1. Screams at airport employees.
  2. Tackles the thief and beats the snot out of them. And is probably arrested.
  3. Uses sign language to report thefts to the authorities.
  4. Contacts the embassy or consulate for help.
  5. Hopes a sympathetic stranger feels sorry enough to offer assistance.
  6. Fill in a different answer.

Question #4 – The electricity goes off and there’s no cell service. What does your character do?

  1. Starts up the generator that s/he bought to prepare for this contingency and proceeds with normal activities.
  2. Ambushes the prepper neighbor who has the generator and takes it away from them.
  3. Reads a book by candlelight and thinks “Gee, this is kinda romantic.”
  4. Hyperventilates. Alternatively, hides under the bed so the bogey man can’t get him/her.
  5. Goes searching for missing family and friends.
  6. Seizes this golden opportunity to commit crimes b/c the chances of getting caught or punished are low.
  7. Fill in a different answer.

Question #5 – The house/apartment catches fire. What does your character do?

  1. Grabs the already-packed bug-out bag which contains medications, passport, flashdrive backups, and cash.
  2. Grabs loved ones and pets and runs like hell.
  3. Grabs a fire extinguisher and fights the blaze.
  4. Stands and watches because s/he just dropped acid and is enjoying the far-out colors, man.
  5. Shoves an abusive partner into the flames, slams and locks the door, and runs like hell.
  6. Fill in a different answer.

Question #6 – Your character’s spouse and child are drowning. S/he can only save one. What does your character do?

  1. Saves the child.
  2. Saves the spouse.
  3. Saves the closest one.
  4. The decision is too impossible to fathom so they all drown together.
  5. Prays for a miracle.
  6. Drowns themselves b/c they can’t live with the guilt.
  7. Fill in a different answer.

Question #7 – Your character is facing death with no possible reprieve and no way out. What does s/he do?

  1. Prays.
  2. Requests a blindfold and a last cigarette.
  3. Weeps.
  4. Sends a last message to loved ones.
  5. Shivers with terror.
  6. Takes down as many enemies as possible.
  7. Screams, “This can’t be happening!”
  8. Fill in a different answer.

Did you learn more about your characters?

Do these insights help your story? Drive it in a new direction?

In a sad, ironic footnote, author Terrence Des Pres died at age 47 by hanging, his death ruled “accidental” by the Madison County (NY) medical examiner’s office.

~~~

TKZers: Please share “different answers” you filled in.

~~~

 

By book #4 in the Tawny Lindholm Thriller series, I thought I knew the two main characters well. But I learned surprising new facets when they are caught in Hurricane Irma in Dead Man’s Bluff. Stranded in an unfamiliar, flooded Florida landscape without electricity, they must hunt for a missing friend. Soon they discover predators, animal and human, are hunting for them.

Special price today only $.99.

How Memorable Are You?

 

By Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

 

Everyone in the writing community is part of a long continuum climbing a steep hill. Those who are ahead often reach down their hands to help those who are less experienced.

For three decades, my local writing group, the Authors of the Flathead (AOF), has thrived because of mentors who extended their hands to the rest of us, freely and generously sharing knowledge.

Barbara Schiffman, script consultant and creative producer

One of those mentors is Barbara Schiffman, who worked in Hollywood for 35+ years as a script consultant and creative producer. She reviewed potential projects for literary agencies and production companies like DreamWorks, HBO, Showtime, and more. After retirement, she and her author-husband Glenn moved to Montana in 2019 to live near their grandchildren and settled into a new home.

Before their boxes were unpacked, Barbara jumped in to help local writers. At the community college in Kalispell, she now facilitates monthly seminars about screenwriting sponsored by AOF and her MT Screenwriting Meetup (https://meetup.com/MTScreenwriting/  – not limited to Montana writers).

At a recent meeting I attended, screenwriters had driven long distances from Polson (50 miles), Ovando (120 miles), Helena (220 miles), and Spokane, Washington (240 miles) to hear Barbara. With gas at more than $5/gallon, these are serious writers hungry to learn. The trip is worth it.

That evening, Barbara spoke about how to make a good first impression on people who might buy your stories. She stresses you never have a second chance to make a good first impression: “Get ’em in the beginning or you don’t get ’em.”

Her approach is two-pronged and applies to both to you as the author and to the main characters of your stories.

You, the writer, could be pitching to agents, editors, producers, etc., hoping to stand out among thousands of writers they meet.

Or…

Your book’s main character could be pitching to readers browsing thousands of books on virtual and physical shelves.

Both you as the author and your main character have the same goal: seduce the reader into saying, “I’ve got to hear/read more about this person!”

Barbara analyzed countless scripts and learned to read quickly, sometimes simultaneously writing a logline, one or two page synopsis, and comments for her clients.

The first 10 pages make or break a screenplay. Even when they didn’t grab her, she still needed to skim the rest, write a full summary, and make recommendations. The options were pass or consider, strong consider, or consider with recommendations.

An unqualified Recommend was rare. While many scripts were good, they needed to be great to earn a Recommend.

Insider tip: a reader’s analysis of each script or book must be thoroughly documented, including the date received and who submitted it, to protect the producer, director, and others from plagiarism claims.

Next, Barbara put us through an exercise to demonstrate everyone has a unique quality or experience that makes them memorable. She asked each person to give their name, where they’re from, and relate one unusual thing about themselves that isn’t generally known.

She offered her own example of a memorable event that led to a realization: a fire walk with motivational guru Tony Robbins. As she walked across the coals, she thought, This isn’t so hot. Yet afterward, she had a blister on her little toe. Even though her perception had been the walk was no big deal, the physical blister proved to her that, yes, the fire was indeed scorching.

Then she went around the room full of writers, ranging in age from early 20s to 70+, asking for their memorable events. Since I don’t have their permission, I can’t share what they said. But every single person, no matter how ordinary they appeared, had a unique, surprising story that caused the rest of us to say Wow!

Prior to that evening, I hadn’t met several newcomers. Next time I see them, I likely won’t remember their names or where they’re from but I will definitely remember the unique story they told.

That is exactly the effect a writer wants to achieve when meeting with a producer, actor, agent, or editor. According to Barbara, even if they don’t accept your current pitch, if you make a good impression, they will remember you and perhaps offer a different opportunity later.

Your main character must make a similar impact when s/he first walks onstage in the story.

If it’s a script, you want the actor reading it to say, “I have to play that character onscreen.”

If it’s a novel, you want the reader to say, “I have to learn more about this character. I need to buy this book.”

A current character description trend in screenwriting is to be minimalist—hair color, height, age. Barbara considers that “lazy writing.” When she reads scripts, she wants to know more than surface impressions. She says physical traits are important ONLY if they are integral to the plot.

“Less can be more but make it the right less,” she says.

Barbara recommends developing a skill she calls “screenplay haiku”—memorable phrases, especially in dialogue, that she says may wind up in a movie trailer and frequently in common lexicon.

Think: Make my day. (Clint Eastwood, Dirty Harry).

Houston, we’ve had a problem. (Jim Lovell, Apollo 13)

I’ll be back. (Arnold Schwarzenegger, Terminator)

Barbara admires Taylor Sheridan, the creator-producer of Yellowstone and considers him “Shakespeare in the Wild West.”

She also mentioned Sheridan’s screenplay of Hell or High Water as a prime example of memorable screenwriting. A number of TKZers have recommended the film. Here’s a scene-by-scene dissection by director David Mackenzie.

 

Timothy Hallinan’s Junior Bender book series has also earned Barbara’s admiration. She says he’s a cross between Carl Hiaasen and Donald Westlake.

From Crashed: A Junior Bender Mystery, here’s Hallinan’s first description of a dirty cop named Hacker:

The face in the rear-view mirror possessed more distinctive characteristics than you’d normally find in a whole room full of faces. The eyes, black as a curse, were so close to each other they nearly touched, barely bisected by the tiniest nose ever to adorn an adult male face. I’d seen bigger noses on a pizza. The guy had no eyebrows and a mouth that looked like it was assembled in the dark: no upper lip to speak of, and a lower that plumped out like a throw pillow, above a chin as sharp as an elbow.

It wasn’t a nice face, but that was misleading. The man who owned it wasn’t just not nice: he was a venal, calculating, corrupt son of a bitch.

 

That’s a character most readers will remember!

~~~

Thanks, Barbara, for sharing tips on how to make a memorable first impression.

For more info about her, visit: https://literasee.com/

Check out: https://www.meetup.com/mtscreenwriting/

~~~

My memorable detail for today is I’m having cataract surgery. Barbara kindly offered to pinch-hit and respond to comments, as well as answer questions.

~~~

TKZers: What makes your main character memorable?

If you dare, share a memorable detail about yourself.

 

WHAT MY HORSE TAUGHT ME ABOUT CHARACTER ARCS – Guest Post by Kay DiBianca

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer 

Today, I’m pleased to host cozy mystery author Kay DiBianca who shares her fun and unique perspective on character arcs. Kay is a familiar name around The Zone, offering frequent, insightful comments. Welcome to Kay and the horse she rode in on! 

It was a day for speed. A wind-at-your-back, smile-on-your-face day when a youthful gallop overruled frumpy caution, so we barreled down the dirt trail into the park and around a blind turn. As the bushes on our right gave way and the road ahead came into view, a terrifying specter suddenly loomed up in the middle of the trail, no more than fifty yards in front of us.

Dixie, my high-strung, prone-to-panic filly, slammed on the brakes. I had no idea a horse could stop like that. Two stiff-legged hops – thump, thump — to a dead halt.

I went straight over her head. Turns out an English forward seat saddle is particularly ill-suited for sudden deer sightings.

As I was flying through the air, anticipating an unpleasant reacquaintance with Mother Earth, Dixie began some kind of crazy cha-cha in reverse, trying to flee the tiny deer creature. I was still holding on to the reins, however, so she couldn’t turn and run. Instead, she made a determined dart backward, dragging me along in her wake.

You might be wondering why I didn’t just let go of the reins and save myself from a mouthful of dirt and a painful awareness of my sudden change in circumstances. I’ll be honest with you. I would have let my horse drag me into the next county before I allowed her to return riderless to the barn. I have my pride, you know.

Body-surfing down a dirt trail at the whim of a frightened animal is an excellent way to focus one’s mind.  I’m older now, but sometimes I still get that urge to gallop furiously into the next adventure, no matter what form it takes. But when I recall that day in the park, the awful taste of grit in my mouth, the look of terror in Dixie’s eyes, and the acrid scent of fear in the air, I pull back the reins on my emotions and proceed at a deliberate trot.

Whether dramatic or not, we each have a set of experiences that have transformed the way we view the world. Likewise, we all know the characters we write about must change from the beginning of the story to the end, and the change must be meaningful.

So TKZers: Tell us about a character in one of your novels that went through a metamorphosis. Was it a dramatic, once in a lifetime experience? Or a slow coming to grips with reality over the course of the story? How did you accomplish the change in a way that would grab your readers?

I’m deeply grateful to Debbie Burke for giving me the opportunity to post to the Kill Zone Blog. And thanks to all the TKZ contributors and commenters for allowing me to be part of the journey.

~~~

 

SAVING ONE LIFE IS LIKE SAVING THE WHOLE WORLD.

Kay’s delightful cozy mystery, Dead Man’s Watch, features characters the reader cares about.

Available at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, and Apple Books.