Category Archives: Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Establishing a Strong Sense of Place

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Today our first page critique raises an important aspect in making many a good mystery or thriller – a strong sense of place. I always think the challenge in creating a sense of place is to make it instantly fully realized as well as believable. A reader truly needs to ‘be there’ and to have full confidence that the author has done their research.

A strong sense of place can be a tricky prospect for a first page: too much and the reader starts to yawn; too little and the story can seem generic and bland. If the set-up seems too contrived or deliberate, a reader starts to feel awkward; if the writer gets crucial facts wrong, the reader immediately disconnects from the story.

I think the first page we are reviewing today manages to instantly capture a great sense of place. Although I might tighten it up a wee bit (see my comments after the piece) all in all this first page grabs me – in part because the place itself resonates and intrigues.
So here it is – the first page of the novel, 65 below.
Richardson Highway
East of Fairbanks
Alaska
17 December 1600 hrs
“Damn! When it gets dark out here, it is dark as death.”

Eugene Wyatt drove as fast as conditions allowed down the Richardson highway in his big beige Ford F250 Crew Cab Diesel pickup, with the brown and white Tanana Valley Electric Cooperative logo emblazoned on the doors. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon but the late December sun had already long descended, leaving the land in total inky blackness. His three-year-old golden retriever Penny sat on the passenger side of the wide bench seat. She ignored her master’s Oklahoma drawl and stared out the window as they drove along. The dog’s breath shot a burst of steam onto the frigid glass a few inches away every time she exhaled. Her tongue hung limply over the teeth of her open mouth.

On any typical evening, there would have been brightly lit signs atop tall poles in front of the gas stations, or neon beer advertisements pulsing blue, red, and yellow from within the windows of busy bars as he passed through the small city of North Pole then the even smaller town of Moose Creek. Tonight though only the glow of candles and oil lamps flickered dimly between the curtains of the handful of homes along the highway. The power was out, everywhere.

Eugene looked at Penny who stared transfixed at the truck window. The frost from her breath created a ring of ice crystals on the glass that she seemed to be studying. The area had warmed up significantly in the past few days though after an unseasonal cold snap that held the land at negative fifty for several weeks. The red mercury line on the thermometer now hovered at a livable zero degrees Fahrenheit.

Eugene remembered a line a comedian had said on TV the night before.
If it is zero degrees, does that mean there is no temperature?

The humor of the line dissipated fast. There had never been an outage like it in his thirty years in Alaska’s electricity business. At first, the authorities thought it was a local failure within the Tanana Valley Cooperative area. It was not long though before they discovered it was much bigger. The phone company went out at the same time. Cellular towers failed. The whole of the Interior region of Alaska, an area the size of New York State, was thrown back into the 19th century in an instant.

My comments:

  • First off, I liked how the author started the book with dialogue – it instantly set the tone and introduced us to the character.

  • The details (car type/age of dog) on the first paragraph might (perhaps) be tightened up but I thought this and the second paragraph set the scene really well. The success I think in this first page is that it establishes the scene with a minimum of backstory and explanation – we know all we really need to know at this stage: It’s Alaska, the power is out, the main character (an outsider from Oaklahoma) is out on the highway with only his dog and there is a sense of foreboding that promises much in the way of suspense.
  • I thought the final two paragraphs set up the problem well – that there had never been a power outage like this, that Alaska was now a total ‘frontier’ land, and the reader now gets a strong sense that something awful/shocking is probably about to happen – Just what you want the first page of a good mystery/thriller to set up!

So what do you think? Did you get the immediate, visceral feel of Alaska like I did? Did you feel the set up was there and, more importantly, would you read on?

I know I would.

Keeping It Grounded

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James gave a fabulous run down yesterday on the principle of the ‘big grab’ needed on the first page of any novel. Today, I am going to focus on the issue of ‘grounding’ – a necessary aspect of ensuring a reader gets a strong sense of time, place, as well as character. Even if you are going to throw the main character’s life in total upheaval, a reader still needs to know (and care) about what that life was life to begin with. This doesn’t mean we need heaps of details – what we need is just enough for the reader to believe the world the reader has created and have some sensory point of reference that resonates as well as intrigues.

Today we’re critiquing the first page of a novel called SINK and I think it illustrates the difficulty of grounding a reader. Here’s the first page – my comments follow as bullet points.

SINK

Day 1

Gold wire wrapped around a ruby. Almost like a star. The wire hides the center of a heart-shaped stone. Ayu wonders vaguely why gold always has a slight warmth. As if it retains the memory of being melted. The bottom of the pendant comes to a point so sharp she imagines a heart cutting flesh as it jumps out of the owner. Naoki’s heart. Ayu starts shaking, her throat bubbles and laughter explodes from her instead of tears.

The windowless interrogation room looks like the ones she’s seen on TV, except much smaller. Everything in Tokyo is. The damp air makes Ayu sneeze and Ms. Shimizu, her homeroom teacher, shifts her chair closer. Ayu didn’t tell her aunt and uncle that the police wanted to see her; she called Shimizu instead.

“We found that on the body. Are you sure you haven’t seen it before?” Across the table, Assistant Inspector Kameda presses her thin lips together. Her dull gray suit matches the streaks in her hair. This coloring and her small eyes give her a pigeon look.

Ayu takes a sharp breath. “No.” She weighs the jewel in her hand. It’s dense. Like the flat gold chain around her neck, the one that belonged to her mother.

“Why were you laughing?”

“I have no idea.” Ayu presses a fist against her mouth. She’d meant to take back yesterday’s words at homeroom. Except he hadn’t shown and she’d blamed him for that, too. “Maybe it’s not Naoki.”

“His father made a positive ID.”

It must be someone who looks like Naoki. Wears the same Diesel jeans and jacket. “Can I see the body?”

  • Starting off with the description of a pendant is an unusual choice and one I’d be fine with, if it didn’t leave the reader feeling totally ungrounded. Initially, I was intrigued but then ultimately I was just bemused as the first paragraph ended. I couldn’t visualize ‘a heart cutting flesh as it jumps out of the owner’. I also immediately didn’t like the protagonist – why laugh instead of cry? I needed to know more to feel both grounded in the story – at this stage I’m not even sure where Ayu is or the significance of the pendant. The memory of it being melted didn’t have any relevance to me- the memory of it piercing flesh, now that would have been at least sinister.

  • In the second paragraph we get some more details that ‘grounds’ the reader – we know we’re in an interrogation room in Tokyo. The observation, however,that ‘everything in Tokyo seems smaller’ seems incongruous – would a local really notice or think that? Then the reference to the homeroom teacher leaves me thinking that Ayu is a young teenager – but how young? Again, I have nothing with which to ground me as a reader. It doesn’t need to be much, but it does need to be there – even if it is something like. “At sixteen Ayu didn’t tell her uncle and aunt she phoned Shimizu instead.” It needs to clear whether this is a YA book or not – so the age of the protagonist may be important (depending on the rest of the book. I don’t know if this is YA or not).

  • “She’d meant to take back yesterday’s words at homeroom. Except he hadn’t shown and she’d blamed him for that, too.” This could be interesting but as a reader I was just mystified – we need more to care about these characters and the past fight they may have had.

  • “Can I see the body?” – By this point I was really confused about the main protagonist – she laughs at the thought of Naoki’s death, she obsessively notes details about a pendant (the relevance of which is unclear) and then she is in denial that the body could be Naoki’s (even though up to this point the reader suspects she was there – the first paragraph reference to Naoki’s heart jumping out certainly makes suggests it) – and now she asks to see the body? I’m at sea as to who Ayu really is as a character.

  • In short, although this first page offers some intriguing information I’m too ‘ungrounded’ to understand or care about either Ayu or Naoki. How do you all feel? For me it’s a grounding issue but others might feel quite differently.

The First 50

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By Clare Langley-Hawthorne

First an apology for missing last week’s post – I was in Australia and entered an internet black hole in rural Victoria from which I could not emerge until Tuesday!Now, I’m back and apart from a wee bit of jetlag (I never get over the confusion that it’s tomorrow in Australia already!), I’m also back online.

James’ great post yesterday on the importance of the opening line prompted me to think about the next crucial thing an agent usually looks for – a slam-dunk first 50 pages. When I was submitting manuscripts that was what agents typically requested after they had initially viewed a query letter and (possibly) the first chapter or detailed synopsis. How well I remember sweating over those first 50 pages when my agent asked for them to be sent.

Today, I still believe the first 50 pages are critical. Accounting for roughly the first 3 chapters or so, they are the vehicle by which the writer demonstrates his or her mastery of voice, plot and character and they establish the promise of the story to come: the hook that draws a reader in, the tension between the characters that will help propel the plot forward and the pace of how the mystery is likely to unfold. I have no doubt that agents can tell on the first page whether the writing is up to snuff but (in my opinion) it’s the first 50 pages that shows them whether the writer is likely to be able to deliver on the promise displayed on that first page.

In a classic novel ‘pyramid’ structure the first 50 pages (or so) help establish the status quo as well as the conflict or situation that is about to upend all of that. It is essential in these first chapters that the characters’ relationships and conflicts are brought into play. I also view these first chapters as the key to grounding the story – not by bogging it down in back story or exposition – but in drawing the reader into the world you have created so they are committed and compelled to continue reading. I need to have a clear sense of time and place established, be able to visualize and care about the main characters and understand their motivations. Achieving all this can be a challenge. Here are some of the pitfalls that inexperienced writers should try and avoid in those first 50 pages.

Packing it all in

Too much back story and character exposition can grind the story to a halt and nothing is more disappointing than reading a terrific first chapter, full of action, only to find the second chapter mired in explanations, background and description. The key is to continue to intrigue a reader with partial disclosures – everything doesn’t need to be revealed in one second or third chapter informational dump.

Plot takeover

Equally well, a breakneck plot that charges through the first 50 pages without stopping for breath can leave a reader disorientated and confused. I still believe a balance is needed in the first few chapters so that the reader can receive enough grounding in terms of the key characters to care about their circumstances. Thrills and spills are not enough.

Voice confusion/lack of strong POV

As James noted yesterday POV confusion can destroy an opening page – it can equally well derail the first few chapters. Writers need to beware of introducing multiple POVs in the early chapters that dilute the ‘voice’ or which confuse a reader. I think the strength of a great opening lies in establishing the voice that will move the story forward – and that counts for every chapter not just the first one.

So what do you think needs to be achieved in the critical ‘first 50’? What other pitfalls do you see, as writers and readers? What can you tell about a manuscript in the first 5o pages?

Culture Shock

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We’re back Down Under for a couple of weeks and due to a bout of food poisoning (thanks Qantas…) and slow internet connection (we’re in rural Victoria) this is going to be a short post – but one that resonates with me as I struggle with culture shock of the strangest kind – my own culture!

Whenever we return home we find things that baffle us – things that after 16 years in America seem perplexing. This time it was the simplest act of turning on a light switch – who knew that Australian light switches are the opposite of American ones? That to turn on a light you flick down the switch, whereas in the US you flick it up. It took me a day of puzzlement and a belief that my mother-in-law’s house must have just been wired weirdly for me to realize that it was merely an example of cultural amnesia…yes, I had actually forgotten how to turn on a light! Add to this the whole time zone confusion – try explaining to your kids that they ‘lost’ a day traveling over the Pacific and it is now yesterday in America – and you have a recipe for family confusion.

So how can going home seem so strange? Like almost all crime fiction writers I enjoy examining the concept of the ‘outsider’ – the stranger who can observe things about a place, a society and a culture that others cannot see…but I never expected that I would feel the outsider in the place I grew up in, or that each time I return home I would find more evidence of cultural confusion. The simple act of turning on a light brought that home to me – and may provide rich fodder (I hope) for future books. But still culture shock in my own country is bizarre. Perhaps, however, I am not alone. Have any of you ever experienced culture shock going home?

A Rose by Any Other Name…

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

A recent thread on Dorothy L regarding pen names has got me interested – I write under my own name (I mean, you couldn’t make it up!) but have often wondered about the pros and cons of adopting a pen name. It would certainly make some things easier – as it is when someone Googles my name they are likely to get a plethora of information about me, the author, as well as me, the former lawyer, (including my one published law article on tradeable gas emission permits for climate change!) and me, the former health economist, (including my MA on the costs of schizophrenia!). All up I must look pretty loony, so in some ways I wish I had written under a pseudonym. At the same time, though, I like the fact that I do write under my own name – it means people who knew me from school and college can easily find me and my books and, in many ways, it is just easier to be who I am:)

I have been told, however, that if I write a non-mystery novel I will probably have to adopt an alternative pen name so as not to ‘confuse’ anyone…this makes a sense if, for instance, I suddenly start writing erotica, but other than that it seems an enormous pain. With a pen-name I’d have to set up an ‘alternate’ me including a separate website as well as a ‘new’ social networking and marketing identity….and I have enough trouble keeping on top of all of this as it is! I do understand when authors feel that adopting a pseudonym will make it easier to gain acceptance for their work or to appear ‘gender neutral’ – some female authors, for instance, use initials when writing gritty thrillers so the fact that they are female isn’t immediate apparent (sadly this can still be an issue). I can’t say I intend to do this but I do want to write across a number of genres, including YA, and am grappling with the question of whether to use a pen name or not.

So, how many of you use a pen name or have considered adopting one when branching out into a new genre? How do authors with multiple ‘names’ deal with the marketing/web presence issue? Do they established clearly defined and distinct personas on the web or do they roll them all under one ‘umbrella’ site? What do you think are the pros and cons of using a pen name…and importantly, how do you come up with a really cool one?!

Panels from Hell

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne


This weekend I am going down to Carmel (a favorite spot of mine) to do a panel at the Harrison Memorial library with the very talented Hannah Dennison and, since I also just received my panel allocation for Malice Domestic, I am mulling over the whole ‘what makes a successful panel’ issue. Believe me I have seen some stinkers in my time – I dread being on the panel from hell more than just about anything (except perhaps being moderator of the panel from hell…) – but what makes or breaks a panel?

  • First of course, the topic has to be interesting and one that resonates with the panelists. I was once put on a panel about hot sex and had to admit from the get-go that basically there was no hot sex in any of my books! (The panel still was great, despite that:)). However, even with the most exciting of topics there’s still a risk of boring the pants off the audience. I have seen plenty of excellent presentations on some of the most mundane topics (and let’s face it, there’s a limit to how many topics there can be on mystery writing…) and some of the most boring presentations on the hottest of topics…so there must be more to it than merely topic alone.
  • A terrific moderator – a good moderator can ameliorate against some of the worst panel sins (microphone hogging, long-winded answers, blatant and constant self-promotion) – but I’ve been on panels where it is immediately clear that the moderator hasn’t even bothered to read up on the panelists work! In my mind a terrific moderator is prepared, professional, witty and unafraid to step where angels fear to tread in order to prevent the above mentioned sins from ruining a perfectly good panel presentation. What I think turns off many in the audience is a moderator who either sits back and lets the panel degenerate into a rant/lecture/ego-fest, or one who is so intrusive it is as if she (or he) was a panelist rather than a moderator.
  • Well prepared participants. There’s no point being on a panel if you think you can just ‘phone in’ your answers without giving the topic any thought. Some of the worst panels I’ve been on have had an author who clearly spent no time at all thinking about anything except how to promote his (or her) next book at any given opportunity. The best panels I’ve been on have been where the moderator has given everyone a heads-up on possibly questions first, though this is still no guarantee that the panelists will have anything interesting to say about them!
  • Professionalism – as with all the worst panel sins mentioned, the most horrible panels occur when one or more of the participants completely takes over and (disregarding any professional courtesy to others on the panel) hogs the limelight. Equally well, the authors who ramble on for ten minutes answering the question are just as unprofessional in my book. I believe authors should treat the panel as a showcase for themselves as both a writer and a member of the writing community – so no unprofessional behavior please! My motto: Be gracious – dress for the occasion, act for the occasion, and shut-up when necessary.
  • Pass on the Jerry Springer moments. I’ve only witnessed one panel degenerate to this kind of in-fighting – but some authors do allow themselves to get carried away. As far as I’m concerned arrogance and vitriol needs to be left at the door.

So have you had any horrific panel experiences? Any tips from being on a panel or from being in the audience on what makes (or breaks) a panel? What was the best (or the worst!) panel you ever saw or participated in?

Ten Rules for Writing Fiction

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Inspired by Elmore Leonard’s list, The UK newspaper The Guardian recently surveyed a number of established writers on their ten rules for writing fiction. The results were inspiring, funny as well as practical and I thought I’d share my ten favorites with you.

  1. The first 12 years are the worst. (Ann Enright)

  2. Put one word after another. Find the right word, put it down. (Neil Gaiman)

  3. Keep a light, hopeful heart. But expect the worst. (Joyce Carol Oates)

  4. Read widely and with discrimination. Bad writing is contagious. (PD James)

  5. Don’t romanticize your “vocation”. You can either write good sentences or you can’t. There is no “writer’s lifestyle”. All that matters is what you leave on the page. (Zadie Smith)

  6. If you have to read, to cheer yourself up read biographies of writers who went insane. (Colm Toibin)

  7. Do not place a photograph of your favorite author on your desk, especially if the author is one of the famous ones who committed suicide. (Roddy Doyle)

  8. Don’t sit down in the middle of the woods. If you’re lost in the plot or blocked, retrace your steps to where you went wrong. Then take the other road. And/or change the person. Change the tense. Change the opening page. (Margaret Atwood)

  9. Try to think of others’ good luck as encouragement to yourself. (Richard Ford)

  10. The two most depressing words in the English language are “literary fiction.” (David Hare)

If you had to write your top ten rules what would be number 1 on your list?

Approaching Agents at Conferences

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne


Writers (and fan) conferences provide unpublished writers with a great opportunity to approach and talk about their work with agents. Recently there have been a few email threads on MWA as well as Sisters in Crime about how writers should go about approaching the whole ‘agents at conferences’ thing, and I thought I’d lay down what I think are some of the basic ground rules.

1. You need to do your homework.

Obvious, I know…but all too often this doesn’t get done. I’ve been at conferences where writers have pitched an idea for a western/science fiction cross-over novel to an agent that only moments before announced that they do not represent either of those genres. It is a waste of everyone’s time and energy to pitch your work to an agent who is clearly not interested in representing the kind of work you do. Almost every agent has a website or an entry in publishers’ marketplace so do yourself a favor – check before you pitch. Don’t rock up at a conference and pitch to every agent you meet – target your approach – check the attendance lists, research which agents represent the kind of writing you do (and the writers you admire) and make sure you know who you should pitch to (and by extension who you should not).

2. Your manuscript must be perfect (and finished).

I remember chatting to a writer at a SinC meeting once, and she told me she had met an agent at a conference who had requested to see her work – only problem was, it wasn’t ready to be sent out. The writer asked me whether I thought it would be okay for her to send the manuscript out now (some 12 months later)…My answer – good luck with that! The agent probably has no idea who you are by now. The moral of this story is obvious – you need to be ready to send the complete manuscript before you pitch your work which also leads to ground rule number three…

3. Send exactly what the agent requests (no more, no less).

If an agent at a conference tells you to send a formal query letter abide by that request, if they ask for the first 5o pages send just the first 50 pages (don’t send them your entire manuscript). Do what they ask you to do. I’m sure it frustrates the heck out of agents to have writers send them material they did not ask to see.

4. Be professional at all times.

A professional pitch at a conference is totally acceptable, shoving you manuscript under a bathroom stall is not. Make sure you appear confident (and sane) which means no stalking the agent…They are (remember) just human beings. Most agents I’ve met are approachable and kind. They will tell you if they are interested and will let you down gently if they are not – so just be yourself and act like a professional (you want to be treated like one, after all).

5. Have your pitch ready. Memorize it. Practice it. Perfect it.

You need to be able to tell an agent with confidence exactly what your manuscript is about in under 3 minutes (no agent is going to listen for half an hour as you outline every chapter in the book!). I’m more than happy to listen to someone’s pitch and give feedback and I’m sure lots of other writers are too – the more feedback and practice you get, the more confident you’ll be when you finally get the chance to speak to the agent of your dreams. As I rough guide I think you should have a high level 1-2 minute concept (the elevator pitch) and then have a more detailed synopsis you can tell, should the agent ask you for more details. I also find a one-page written synopsis is handy – because you can hand this to an agent if they express an interest – just be sure to have your name and email address on this just in case the agent wants to contact you about it (hey, you can dream can’t you!).

Many conferences have specific sessions in which writers get to pitch their work to agents and editors. At the first writers’ conference I ever attended I participated in a ‘speed dating for agents’ session and, although horrific and stressful, it gave me experience pitching my manuscript and interacting with agents about my work. Even when there aren’t such sessions available, however, conferences provide a great opportunity for writers looking for an agent. As these ground rules show all you need to be is prepared.

So what about you all – do you have any other ‘ground rules’ or advice on approaching agents at conferences?

If only…

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By Clare Langley-Hawthorne

It’s a miracle this blog post got written at all – I have had a ‘twin-ful’ four days of raging flu in the house (just after my husband issued those fateful words “It’s been such a good winter, the boys have hardly been sick at all – I think we dodged the bullet this time…”) that, in the interests of sanity (and because I may be slightly hallucinatory after getting very little sleep for the last three nights), I offer up a very short blog post on a topic dear to my heart – writing techniques that drive me crazy.

In Australia there used to be a show that had a segment “what cheeses me off” and I was reminded of that when reading a book (which shall remain unnamed) which fell into what I consider one of the most “cheeses-me’ off sins of all – the “if only she had turned back, she would have seen…” sin. Yes, the, let’s totally get out of POV and warn the reader of some ominous event that the character (whose POV is firmly established) could never know or realize.

Now, I’m as guilty as the next writer of including ‘ominous’ descriptions – my own personal failing appears to the weather (which is always indicative of something ill, according to my husband) but I always strive to keep within the POV and voice of the book. To step outside this, I think, is a sign of flabby writing. The ‘If only she/ he/I had known’ technique drives me nuts. In first person POV it is an obvious no-no (how could I know, what I don’t know?) but even with second or third person POV it’s a technique that irritates me. Just think how much tension is lost when you reach a crucial suspenseful moment only to read “if only she had turned round she would have seen the giant squid poised to attack….”

As I hear the dulcet tones of my little ones calling for ‘nurse mummy’, I open the floor to all of you to vent – what is the writing ‘technique’ that most cheeses you off in mysteries and thrillers??

TKZ Short Story Collection ‘Fresh Kills’ Debuts!

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Well, you’ve seen us discuss the e-book revolution, and now we at The Kill Zone have jumped right on in – producing our own e-book anthology of killer stories. All week we’re going to give you a sneak ‘behind the scenes’ insight into each of our stories – but the best thing you can do (of course!) is buy and download the anthology for yourself. Fresh Kills is available on Kindle at Amazon and in a variety of e-book formats at Smashwords.

The stories in Fresh Kills vary in mood and theme (as you can well imagine!) and I am just as intrigued, as you all are, to read my fellow bloggers‘ contributions. My own short story is entitled ‘The Angel in the Garden’ and it is, believe it or not, the first time I have written a story set in Australia. Here’s a brief description (it’s how I like to imagine the dust jacket would read):
When Constable Duff McManus is called out to investigate a body floating in an ornamental pond, he has to confront both the death of a childhood friend long considered a traitor, as well as his own war time memories. It may be a year since the Great War ended but for many in Australia, there are some wounds that will never heal and some secrets that will never be revealed, not even in death.

I was inspired to write this story after reading Juliet Nicholson’s book The Great Silence over the holidays. She deals with the immediate aftermath of the First World War, focusing specifically on the years 1918-1920, and incorporates first hand accounts from people across the social spectrum. The result is incredibly moving (I went through a whole box of tissues), especially when she deals with the decision to introduce a two minute silence to remember the dead (a hush literally fell across England as the 11th hour struck on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1919) and the return of the unknown soldier, who represented all the husbands, fathers, and sons who never made it home.
I don’t think many Americans realize the deep significance of the First World War for Australia. In many ways it was the event that defined and shaped our national identity and altered the way Australians perceived the British Empire forever. When war was declared in 1914 thousands of Australians rushed to enlist – it was considered every Australian’s duty to defend ‘King and Country’. The horrific debacle at Gallipoli and the slaughter of Australians on the Western Front, however, changed all that. The statistics are staggering: From a population of fewer than five million, almost 417,000 Australian men enlisted, and of those over 60,000 were killed and 156,000 wounded, gassed, or taken prisoner. At the end of the war memorials were erected in nearly every town across Australia – you can still see them today – and it is clear from the names of the young men listed that no community or social strata were spared.
In writing ‘The Angel in the Garden’ I wanted to capture a sense of what it must have been like for those soldiers who did return and how they reintegrated (if indeed they ever did) into the shattered remnants of Australian society. In Constable Duff McManus, I hoped to evoke the deep sense of bitterness and anger that permeated post-war Australia. Oh, and I also wanted to kill off someone (always a good idea in a murder mystery!) and I thought who better to target than someone who represented the anti-conscription, trade union movement in Australia. See, even in a short story I cannot help but get caught up in the history books…

I’ve blogged before on the challenges I faced when confronting the medium of the short story and now I face a surprising dilemma – whether to consider writing a longer story about Constable Duff McManus. As a character I find him intriguing. There is no doubt he returned from the war a scarred, wounded man – but what I sensed, from the moment he appeared on the page, was that he had also lost his ‘moral compass’ as a result – and I was fascinated by where that might lead. So now I have a choice to make…do I finally write a novel set in Australia?…

In the meantime, I am content to have a short story out in the e-book world as my fellow bloggers and I dive into the uncharted e-book ocean (hoping to swim of course!). I also can’t wait to read all the stories!