Category Archives: James Scott Bell

Noir Words of Wisdom

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Last Friday evening I hankered for a classic noir movie to watch, and decided on the 1949 film, Side Street, starring Farley Granger, Cathy O’Donnell, James Craig, and Paul Kelly.

A down on his luck army vet, working as a part time postal carrier, discovers the location of two hundred bucks in shady attorney’s office. Desperate to find more money because he and his young wife their first baby on the way, he steals the file the money is squirreled away in, only to discover it’s actually thirty grand, and there’s a murder charge attached.

It’s my personal favorite type of noir, featuring a flawed good guy who gets enmeshed in a web of deceit and crime and struggles to find a way out. The movie was filmed in New York City, which has an almost Gothic look to it, and featuring perhaps the first modern style car chase, Side Street is a fast-paced mystery as our hero tries to find out the secret of the thirty thousand dollars.

There’s much more to noir and today’s Words of Wisdom brings two posts from the TKZ archives to show some of its depth and breadth. First PJ Parrish looks at noir and the style and diction that goes into them. James Scott Bell follows with an examination of film noir and the lessons fiction writers can learn from it.

I am still trying to catch up on my noir reading. (I didn’t get to The Maltese Falcon until about ten years ago, I confess). Digesting noir, with its emphasis on oppressive mood and shadowed morality, with its lean mean style, has helped me find my own voice as a writer. I am not a true neo-noir practitioner, but I feel a deep connection to its dark heart. One of the best compliments I ever got was when Ed Gorman wrote of our book Thicker Than Water: “The quiet sadness that underpins it all really got to me, the way Ross Macdonald always does.”

A couple Christmases ago, my husband gave me The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps.It’s a compilation of the best crime stories from the “golden age” of pulp crime fiction — the ’20s through the ’40s. It’s about the size of an old Manhattan phone book. And to be really honest, parts of it read about as well.

Many of these guys were dismissed as the hacks of their day, churning out their stories for cheaply printed magazines like “Black Mask” and “Dime Detective.” Yeah, they were lurid, the syntax cringe-worthy, the plots thin or nonsensical. But they tapped into a popular need for a new kind of human hero. The most memorable of the heroes became the prototypes for much of what we are seeing in our crime fiction today — lone wolves fighting for justice against all odds but always on their own different-beat terms. Would we have Harry Bosch without the Continental Op? Jack Reacher without Simon Templar? No way…

And while we’re at it, let’s not get sucked into the notion that noir was only a guy thing. Valerie Taylor had a career churning out books like The Girls In 3B, a classic ’50s pulp tale showcasing predatory beatnik men, drug hallucinations, and secret lesbian trysts. (Her books, among others, have been reissued by Feminist Press.) And would we have Megan Abbott or Sarah Gran without Dorothy B. Hughes, who wrote the twisty indictment of misogyny In A Lonely Place (the source of the Bogart movie)? Doubtful…

To be sure, not all the old stories — like many of the movies — have aged well. The slang sounds vaguely silly now, the sexism and racism we can explain away as anachronistic attitudes. But the armature these writers created is still sturdy.

Especially in pure writing style. I think we can read these stories now mainly to appreciate the streamlined locomotive style that propels these stories along their tracks. When you read them, you can almost hear James M. Cain whispering: “I’m not going to dazzle you with my writing. I’m going to tell you a helluva story.”

These guys sure knew what to leave out. Here’s a passage from Paul Cain’s “One Two Three:”

I said: “Sure — we’ll both go.

Gard didn’t go for that very big, but I told him that my having been such a pal of Healy’s made it all right.

We went.

Not: And then we left the apartment and got in my roadster and set out. We took Mulholland Drive out of the canyon and arrived just before dusk. Just: We went.

How can you read that and not smile? I heartily recommend the Big Book of Pulps.And if you haven’t connected with Eddie on Noir Alley, you’re missing out on some of the best stuff television has to offer.

And now, in honor of our pulp forefathers, I am offering up this little quiz of pulp diction slang for your amusement. Answers at the end. And don’t chance the chisel for a cheap bulge, bo. We Jake?

DEFINITIONS.
1. Ameche
2. Kicking the gong around
3. Wooden kimono
4. cheaters
5. Gasper
6. Hammer and saws
7. Orphan papers
8. Wikiup
9. Bangtails
10. Can-opener

TRANSLATIONS
11. I had been ranking the Loogan for an hour and could see he was a right gee. It was all silk so far.

  1. I stared down at the stiff. The bim hadn’t been chilled off. Definitely a pro skirt who had pulled the Dutch act.
  2. I got a croaker ribbed up to get the wire.
  3. By the time we got to the drum the droppers had lammed off. Another trip for biscuits…

Answers:
1. telephone
2. taking opium
3. coffin
4. sunglasses
5. cigarette
6. Police
7. Bad checks
8. Home
9. Horses
10. Safecracker
11. I had been watching the man with the gun for an hour and could tell he was an okay guy. Everything was cool so far.
12. I stared at the body. The woman hadn’t been murdered. She was definitely a prostitute who had committed suicide.
13. I have arranged for a doctor to get the information.
14. By the time we got to the speakeasy, the hired killers had left. Just another trip for nothing…

PJ Parrish—June 16, 2020

 

Just what is film noir, and why does it have such a loyal following?

As the French name implies, this is “dark film.” It always revolves around crime, and who among us hasn’t had a passing thought of such ilk from time to time? Even if it is just to wonder “Could I get away with it?” Film noir allows us to indulge that fascination without getting too close.

Film noir has a distinctive look—rich black-and-white (as opposed to neo-noir, like Body Heat). Indeed, cinematographers, like the great John Alton, were just as important as the writer and director. (See Alton’s masterpiece He Walked by Nightsometime).

The noir world grinds out rough justice. No bad deed goes unpunished. A guy makes one bad move years ago, and has managed to find a new life…until that past catches up with him to exact retribution (Out of the Past).

Sometimes, the hammer falls on a decent guy who makes one bad choice.

In Side Street, Farley Granger plays Joe Norson, a mailman working like a dog to support himself and his pregnant wife. One day he delivers mail to a lawyer’s office and, alone there, finds $200 in cash. On impulse, he takes it. What he doesn’t know is the dough is part of the lawyer’s extortion racket.

And then there’s a murder.

Soon enough, the bad guy is after Joe, and so is the law, considering Joe a suspect in the murder. Hoo boy. Can he possibly get out of this? We watch to find out, pulling for the guy. Noir justice happens, but exacts a heavy price.

Not all noir leads are good guys who make a bad choice. Sometimes they’re bad guys through and through, and we watch to see if he gets away with it (Touch of Evil). Heist noir (Criss Cross; The Asphalt Jungle) is like that.

Thus, shades of black and white mix, which is just like life.

And makes for compelling fiction, too. The character with a “moral flaw” is more interesting—and more realistic—than a pure, immaculate hero. We relate to characters like that because deep down we know we have flaws, too, and that should our flaws get out of hand, it will lead to disaster.

In a way, noir is like classic Greek tragedy. The purpose of tragedy was to create “catharsis” and warn us of what happens when we follow the dark side.

Thus:

  • Give your Lead a moral flaw, and show it via inner conflict and the “mirror moment.”
  • Indeed, give all your characters, even minor ones, a moral flaw. Even if those are never revealed, it help you come up with more original actions and dialogue.
  • Consider exacting a price the Lead must pay for justice to prevail, a “wound.”

If you want to explore film noir more deeply, I recommend Dark City by Eddie Muller (affiliate link). There are also scores of B-movie noirs available for free on YouTube.

Here are ten of my favorites:

The Maltese Falcon (1941, Dir. John Huston)
Double Indemnity (1944, Dir. Billy Wilder)
Out of the Past (1947, Dir. Jacques Tourneur)
Too Late For Tears (1949, Dir. Byron Haskin)
Act of Violence (1949, Dir. Fred Zinemann)
The Asphalt Jungle (1950, Dir. John Huston)
99 River Street (1953, Dir. Phil Karlson)
The Hitch-Hiker (1953, Dir. Ida Lupino)
Pickup on South Street (1953, Dir. Sam Fuller)
Touch of Evil (1958, Dir. Orson Welles)

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Do you enjoy noir? Do you have favorite novel or movie? If you write noir, do you have any lessons to share with other writers?

Emotional Words of Wisdom

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Emotion is the key to compelling, engaging, immersive fiction. Show your characters experiencing emotions, and make your readers feel something in response.

Today’s Words of Wisdom pulls excerpts from three previous TKZ posts about putting emotion into your fiction. Joe Moore discusses creating an emotional connection between your characters and your reader. Jordan Dane lays out key ways to infuse emotion in each scene. James Scott Bell looks at putting emotion into the most intense moments of each scene.

As writers, when it comes to our readers, if they have little or no emotional connection with the characters in our books, they won’t care what happens to them. And if they don’t care, we’re in trouble.

An emotional connection is created when a reader formulates conclusions about our characters’ personalities based on what we show the characters doing and saying. It’s not good enough for the narrator to “tell” the reader what a brave and generous guy our protagonist is or that our antagonist is a heinous villain. We have to show the reader through the characters’ actions, dialogue, interior thoughts and reasoning, and the way they treat others and their life choices from one situation to the next. Then a connection can start to form.

A solid approach to establishing each of these is to ask: what would you do? How would you react to a situation that you’ve created in your story? It doesn’t matter whether you’re assuming the persona of the protagonist, antagonist, secondary character or a mere walk-on. You are a human and so are they. They should act and react like humans, think like humans, and reason like humans. Only when they do will the reader form the critical bond or connection. Otherwise, all you have is two-dimensional paper-doll cutouts lacking depth and dimension.

Some helpful techniques include using universal experiences. Who has not told a lie to avoid hurting someone’s feelings? Who hasn’t been faced with deciding between what’s right and what’s easy? Who hasn’t felt animosity or even hate for someone who has wronged you? When your character is in a similar situation, examine how you would react?

If you want your reader to like your character, analyze what it is that makes you like or love someone in real life. Use those emotional traits to build your character. And the opposite is also true. To create a character you want the reader to hate or despise, look for someone you dislike and figure out why. Are they egotistical, self-centered, mettlesome, cold, cruel, or mean? Utilize those universal feelings to build a strong antagonist. But never lose sight of the fact that you’re dealing with humans. Even Hannibal Lecter and Darth Vader had strong human characteristics, good and bad.

One universal element that we all can relate to is pain—both physical and mental. Don’t be afraid to dish out the pain when it comes to developing your characters. It’s okay to put pain in their path because it gives them an opportunity to overcome something and by doing so become stronger or wiser or both. Pain, like any other obstacle, is an opportunity for character growth.

The more human you can make your characters, the better chance you’ll have of your readers forming a connection with them. Always consider how you would react, then have your characters act in a similar, logical manner. And throw in a shot of pain once in a while to keep things interesting.

Joe Moore—October 3, 2012

 

10 Key Ways to Infusing Emotion into Each Scene

1,) Put the reader into the scene using the senses – If you expect your reader to “feel” the world you’ve created, put them into every scene. If your protagonist is walking down a dark alley with gun drawn, you have to be there alongside him, author. What sounds can he hear? What does he smell? What are his physical reactions to his surroundings and how does that play on his fear that’s building? Anticipation is a key element in creating suspense and building on tension. Have patience to let the tension mount.

2.) SHOW don’t TELL – If you truly write the scene as if the reader is looking through the eyes and body of your relatable character, that will put them into the scene. If you only “report” what the character is thinking, it distances the reader from your character. ‘Telling’ takes all the unexpected discoveries from the reading experience and it stifles what the reader can imagine. The reader doesn’t have to think. They’re ‘told’ what to think and imagine. Focus on the action of your character and give them a physical reaction. Rather than ‘telling’ the reader that your character is afraid, show how that fear manifests itself in trembling fingers, trickling sweat, and a punishing heart beat.

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint of light on broken glass.” Anton Chekhov

“Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader—not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” E. L. Doctorow

3.) Make your characters relatable and sympathetic – Dare to give your villain an odd sense of humor or have her fight for a cause she cares deeply about, so her wicked obsession feels real. Your mercenary could be a loner, but give him a dog to take care of. Load up the emotional baggage in your character’s past and force him or her into a conflict where they have to face their worst fear. Dare to make your perfect hero vulnerable. All these human frailties create relatable and sympathetic characters and will have readers rooting for them.

4.) Reach for the emotion/Make it over the top – Milk the scene for every drop of emotion. It’s not just about choosing the right words. It’s about creating effective imagery triggers that will connect with readers. If you think you’re done with a scene, go back over and layer in MORE of what that scene is about. Ratchet up the emotion beyond where you might normally go. The added touch pays off when you’re using words to put the reader into the scene.

5.) Foreshadow the danger or the obstacles ahead – If anticipation ramps up the suspense, foreshadowing helps the page turning pace of your novel and keeps the reader invested. It creates ‘flow’ between scenes and chapters. Don’t waste a scene ending or a chapter ending. Make it work for you. If a scene or chapter ending fizzles to a close, that gives the reader a chance to put the book down. Tease them with a hint of things to come and they won’t want to let go of the story.

Jordan Dane—May 19, 2016

 

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.

James Scott Bell—June 2, 2024

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What are your thoughts on forging an emotional connection with readers, infusing emotion into each scene, and upping the emotional intensity?

Winning Words of Wisdom

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Best seller status, glowing reviews, a legion of fans, a movie deal, even “just” getting published, none of these are within our control. We might be able to influence such external outcomes, but we can’t guarantee any of them will happen, as much as we might wish otherwise.

However, we can win at the actual writing, and today’s Words of Wisdom provides three different ways with excerpts from posts by James Scott Bell, PJ Parrish and Joe Hartlaub. As always, the original posts are very much worth reading in full, and are date-linked at the end of their respective excerpts.

What makes a winner?

Is it going on a web cam and shouting Winning?

Is it having a lot of money?

Is it owning a lot of things?

Let me contrast a couple of writers for you. (These writers are composites, BTW, so don’t ask me to name names).

The first writer has had a couple dozen New York Times bestsellers in her career. She is not shy in saying she found a formula that sells a lot of books. And she keeps cranking them out, two or three a year now. Her publisher is very happy about this.

But her readers are beginning to feel like she’s just “mailing it in.” And in secret she’ll tell you she can virtually sneeze out a book, and does. She spends a few hours a week writing and never edits her stuff. She just turns it in and lets the publisher do the rest. Which gives her plenty of time to travel to her chateau in Gstaad. Or to go to conference appearances, where she plays the diva in a way that even Joan Crawford would have applauded.

She has money. She owns things.

But is she a winner?

The other writer is someone you probably haven’t heard of yet, but those who have read her books have not been able to forget them. While she writes in a certain genre, and is prolific, her novels never have a cranked out feel. That’s because she cares about the writing too much. She cares about her readers too much. She could mail it in, but there’s something inside her that makes her constitutionally incapable of putting out junk.

She doesn’t have as much money as the first writer. Nor does she own as many things.

Is she a winner?

I’ll tell you what, you can’t get away from ancient wisdom. Buddha, Confucius, The Bible, the great philosophers . . . they have all been telling us that just having money and owning things does not make you a winner. In fact, if you’re not careful, they can shrivel you up into a thing that blows away like dried grass in a windstorm.

But this second writer, she can feel things the first writer no longer does (or perhaps never did). She feels the intense pleasure of working and caring and crying and laughing over her writing, of seeing things happen on the page that she knows are worth more than a million cranked out passages that exist just to earn more money so the author can own more things.

Is she a winner? Oh yes. And so is any writer in any genre who does more than just mail it in.

I’m talking about a writer who is courageous enough to have some skin in the game, and who isn’t in this business just to make money and own things. If the money comes, that’s great, that’s awesome. We’re not turning that down. But this kind of writer will never let it go to her head or her keyboard. She will refuse to do that to her readers.

James Scott Bell—May 8, 2011

So how does Team Parrish feel coming out of this half-time locker room break and strategy session? Full of cautious confidence. We started out this book full of hope and ambition. But as the game wore on, we just sort of flailed and fumbled around out on the field, hoping we could make progress by blind luck and maybe a last-minute field goal.  This is how the Jets play every single year. Or the Browns, whose fans show up at games carrying banners saying “We Still Have LeBron.”  You want to be Seattle. Or the Pats, who find a way to win even with Brady on the bench for four games.

What am I trying to say here? Well, it’s a variation on what all the good folks here at TKZ preach. Have a good work ethic. (you don’t want to be giving up in mid-season just because you’re a little gassed).  Have a good strategy going in. (a great idea or at least a fresh take on an old one). Devise a game plan and keep to it. (that means for some of you out there outlining). Stop at each quarter or at least half-time and see what has gone right and what had failed. Be flexible enough to make adjustments. Don’t quit, because as the great sports sage Yogi Berra said,  it ain’t over til it’s over.

And with that, I leave you with a few classic football cliches that are actually good advice for us writers:

You gotta work with what’s working. This is a variation on the more erudite “You go with what brought you to the dance.” If you’re a hard-boiled type at heart, maybe you shouldn’t try YA romantic zombie fiction just because it’s hot. Yes, stretch yourself, but don’t be crass. Readers smell insincerity a mile away.

It’s important to give the ball right back to the guy who lost it. Yes, you can make mistakes. In fact, they help you grow. If you’ve had a setback, be it a rejection letter, a bad review or just loss of confidence, don’t let it defeat you.  Favre is the leading career fumbler of all time. You think that when he put the rock on the ground, he thought about quitting? Heck no. The guy took risks. (Though the Killer Chihuahuas never forgave him for that last season…)

He heard footsteps. This is the wide receiver who feels a defender gaining on him so he takes his eye off the ball. For you, this means, don’t let distractions cripple you.  This can mean anything from the little — social media, chores, research — to major distractions — envy over other’s success, people who tell you that you’ll never get published.

He ran east and west instead of north and south. Or as Dan Dierdorf put it: “You gotta keep the axis of your body perpendicular to the goal line.”  For writers, this means always moving forward and maintaining momentum. This is my biggest problem because I become stalled in an insane quest for perfection when I should be grinding out that first draft.  I spent too much time running east and west instead of heading toward the goal line. Don’t be like me.  Be a downhill runner.

It’s a game of inches. Success in publishing almost always comes hard and gradually. You pound away at that keyboard, bang your head up against big forces that feel like they are bent on keeping you back. You spend months, years, on your WIP and only manage to move a few yards forward.  But this is how it’s done. Slow and steady. And you never, ever, come prepared to play only one game because you must…

Take it one game at a time. Finish that book, get it out there somehow and then start the next one. And as you do this you will…

Leave it all on the field. You gave it everything you had because, of course…

There’s no tomorrow.

PJ Parrish—September 13, 2016

 

My suggestion is to write every day. That is not new or original advice. I am offering it particularly, however, to those of you who have no intention of or inclination toward starting or completing a story or having it revealed in the harsh light of day. Writing something every day because you want to, instead of when you have to, is good for you. I truly believe that writing regardless of length or motive makes one smarter — whatever that is — and yes, happier. Writing even one sentence of a few words per day enables you, the unintentional writer, to say, “I wrote this.” It may not give you an adrenaline rush but I submit to you that it will produce, at the least, a drop of it in your cup. It’s the difference between doing an action because you are required to (for reasons from within or without) and doing it because you want to. It can crack the ice that freezes your thinking, whether you write on a post-it, a computer, or your hand. It is an activity that you can do without prompting, or the desire of future reward, other than that occasioned by performing the act itself. I have mentioned this before, but the television series Miami Vice was born as the result of two words handwritten on a piece of paper. The words were “MTV cops.” Your results may differ. That’s the point. There are those who may keep a diary or journal for a similar reason. What I propose is not as involved.

This post is but one example of “wanting to” as opposed to “being compelled to.” I started this post with one sentence, though it is not the introductory sentence that you see above. I wrote a few words to get rolling and then took off, as John Coltrane said, in both directions at once. It was because I wanted to. “The Kill Zone” name notwithstanding, no one here writes with a gun to their head. We are all here because we want to be, whether to write or to read what is written.

Joe Hartlaub—May 29, 2021

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What are your thoughts about “winning” at writing? Any advice or tips?

Words of Wisdom: Risk

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Risk. Your characters have to risk in order to get what they want. Perhaps everything. Writers need to risk failure when they write the next story or book, and when they attempt to grow and improve their skills.

Today’s WoW is features a trio of insightful posts about dealing with risk.

Boyd Morrison lays out what can be at risk for a creative. Jordan Dane’s post isn’t directly about risk, but it is about providing a foundation for success as a writer, which I’d argue is necessary if you are taking creatives. Finally, James Scott Bell breaks down the different kinds of creative risks you can undertake.

When I was in the sixth grade, I desperately wanted the role of the lisping Winthrop in my school’s production of The Music Man. I can’t explain now why I had that inner urge (I’m not sure I had even seen a play before then), but perhaps it was because I shared Winthrop’s shy, self-conscious demeanor and saw myself in his struggle to come out of his shell. I auditioned and got my first taste of rejection. I didn’t even get cast in the chorus. I can still remember the hollow pit in my stomach as I watched the musical, unable to enjoy it the way my fellow audience members did.

It was a whole year before I had the opportunity to audition again, this time for Anna’s son Louis in The King and I. It was a nerve-wracking experience, but I got the part, and the experience on stage was everything I’d imagined it to be. I’ve been in love with acting ever since.

Today, I still act, but I’ve raised the stakes to a level I couldn’t have comprehended when I was that seventh-grader. I’ve just moved to Los Angeles to explore the Hollywood acting business. It’s only temporary, but it means uprooting myself from my wife, who has been incredibly supportive of this venture. I’m also away from the comforts of home, although the discomfort is as minimal as can be because I’m living in my sister’s home and I’m able to continue my writing while I’m here.

Everything I just mentioned involved risk. Of course, it’s not risk in the sense we normally think of it. My life was never in danger; I didn’t fear bodily harm. But a devastated psyche can be even more painful and difficult to recover from. As soon as I auditioned for the first time, I was risking rejection, being told I wasn’t good enough, or at least not as good as the actor who got the role. To get the part of Louis, I had to put myself at risk again.

We constantly face risks. Should I risk leaving the steady job I have now to take a new job offer? Should I ask the cute girl out on a date and risk getting snubbed? Should I get up on stage and risk making a fool of myself? But if I don’t take the new job, I’m at risk of missing a golden opportunity. If I don’t ask the cute girl out, I risk not being with the eventual love of my life. If I don’t go on stage, I risk not exploring a new side of me that will make me more fulfilled.

Being a writer is rife with risk. We face rejection on a constant basis from agents, publishers, critics, and readers. We might spend a year of our lives on a project that ends up being a dismal failure. We may fall on our faces in a very public setting, with Amazon reviews broadcasting the results. If I failed in my old jobs, only my immediate co-workers would know it; now my work is out there for the world to see.

Achieving anything worthwhile requires risk. It means leaving the comfort of the familiar, facing the terror of being judged a failure, and embracing the change, come what may.

Stupid risks don’t count. Don’t mortgage your house to buy lottery tickets. It’s the smart risks that are worth taking. Prepare for the risk by doing your homework. Make it a calculated risk by weighing the pros and cons of each alternative. Minimize the risk by setting realistic goals that you have control over: you can deliver a novel by a certain date at your standard of quality, but you can’t control whether it will be a NY Times bestseller.

Boyd Morrison—February 25, 2013

Just like a good, tried and true recipe is for brisket, we pick up new tips but keep what works. The same goes for writing. There are ways we all use to build upon our craft methods of writing a novel. We try new things to see what works. We discard other methods that we’ve outgrown as we evolve.

Below are some questions I’d like for you to answer if you see anything that fits you. Feel free to add what you’ve learned about writing in your comments. I am a sponge for picking up new stuff.

Writer Questions – Share your Experiences

1.) Are you still finding time to read? Do you read outside the genre you write?Even when life gets busy, reading can be a comfort, but it can also open your eyes to new techniques or interesting POVs or genres. Always be a student when it comes to your writing craft. You will keep growing.

2.) Do you cherish the time you write, where you write and make sure you don’t get interrupted? Life, family/friends and your day job can pile on to add stress in your life. Is your writing the first thing to go? I hope not. Even if you only finish a page a day, that’s progress. I find that once I establish a routine, my body can react in a bad way if I stray from my writing schedule. I can physically get the shakes. Even when I had my day job, I made sure to write every evening and on weekends. It wasn’t easy but it paid off.

3.) How do you capture those big ideas that can spring on you any time of day or night? Do you keep notebooks all over the house or a voice recorder? I get lots of ideas while I’m driving. The best ones, I pull over and reach for my purse where I keep a small notepad and pens. Or better yet, get someone to drive you so your genius is unfettered. Is there a place where you consistently get your big ideas? No pictures if you tell me “the shower.”

4.) Do you have personal rules/discipline when it comes to unplugging from social media and the internet while you are writing? My usual day is writing 9:00 am until 3:00 pm with short breaks to care for my dogs and grab a snack. I try to get up every 3 hours to stretch and walk and replenish the well for a quick change of scenery but I don’t get to emails or social media until after I’ve achieved my word count goal. YES, I have a daily goal. I generally shoot for 1500-2000 words per day and do rolling edits to keep my progress going on the overall project. But social media and emails are a time drain. No sneak peaking as a diversion when you hit a wall. Pick another way to shake out the cobwebs.

5.) Do you read your work aloud? After all these years, I still read my edits aloud. It’s a great way to insure you have a natural cadence to your dialogue and prose. Even if you don’t do this every day, I recommend doing it for important passages/proposals or as one of your final draft processes. This is the best way to find words you’ve left out.

6.) Do you use the first third to a quarter of your book to set up your world building and character introductions? An editor with a large publishing house said something at a writer’s conference about expecting to read the basic set up with characters and conflict within the first 3 chapters. Now it may not be 3 chapters exactly, as I see it now, but he wasn’t wrong about how to establish your world for the reader. Even if you don’t plot ahead of time, expect that readers and editors and agents will expect you to set that foundation for your story and include your cast of characters and their conflicts in the first part of the book.

7.) Do you plan the ending of your book while you’re working on your plot idea or are you willing to let it happen when you get there? If you’re like me, each book can be different. Sometimes I get up in the middle of the night with a new character telling me the ending to his/her story. True. That doesn’t happen with each book, but when it’s that strong that it wakes me, I listen. On the other hand, I am flexible enough to see new ways to add twists. I want to be open to new character motivations too. More times than not, I have found better books by staying open to my endings. How rigid are you? Have you ever been pleasantly surprised with an ending you never expected, just because you followed a rabbit trail or discovered something new about your main character?

Jordan Dane—March 21, 2019

Risk the Idea

I think each novel you write should present a new challenge. It might be a concept or “what if?” that will require you to do some fresh research. My new Mike Romeo thriller (currently in final revisions) revolves around a current issue that is horrific and heartbreaking. I could have avoided the subject altogether. But I needed to go there.

My next Romeo, in development, came from a news item about a current, but not widely reported, controversy. It’s fresh, but I’ve got a lot of learning to do. I’m reading right now, I’ll be talking to an expert or two, and soon will be making a location stop for further research.

I do this because I don’t want to write a book in the series where someone will say, “Same old, same old.”

Admittedly, writing about “hot-button” issues these days carries a degree of risk. Especially within the walls of the Forbidden City where increasingly the question “Will it sell?” is overridden by “Will it offend?”

But as the old saying goes, there is no sure formula for success, but there is one for failure—try to please everybody.

Craft Risk

Are you taking any risks with your craft? Are you following the Captain Kirk admonition to boldly go where you have never gone before?

There are 7 critical areas in fiction: plot, structure, characters, scenes, dialogue, voice, and meaning.

You can take one or all of these and determine to kick them up a notch. For example:

Plot—Have you pushed the stakes far enough? If things are bad for the Lead, how can you make them worse? I had a student in a workshop once who pitched his plot. It involved a man who was carrying guilt around because his brother died and he didn’t do enough to save him. I then asked the class to do an exercise: what is something your Lead character isn’t telling you? What does he or she want to hide?

I asked for some examples, and this fellow raised his hand. He said, “I didn’t expect this. But my character told me he was the one who killed his brother.”

A collective “Wow” went up from the group. But the man said, “But if I do that, I’m afraid my character won’t have any sympathy.”

I asked the group, “How many of you would now read this book?”

Every hand went up.

Take risks with your plot. Go where you haven’t gone before.

Characters—Press your characters to reveal more of themselves. I use a Voice Journal for this, a free-form document where the character talks to me, answers my questions, gets mad at me. I want to peel back the onion layers.

How about taking a risk with your bad guy? How? By sympathizing with him!

Hoo-boy, is that a risk. But you know what? The tangle of emotions you create in the reader will increase the intensity of the fictive dream. And that’s your goal! In the words of Mr. Dean Koontz:

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.

Dialogue—Are you willing to make your dialogue work harder by not always being explicit? In other words, how can you make it reveal what’s going on underneath the surface of the scene without the characters spelling it out?

Voice—Are you taking any risks with your style? This is a tricky one. On the one hand, you want your story told in the cleanest way possible. You don’t want style larded on too heavily.

On the other hand, voice is an X factor that separates the cream from the milk. I’ve quoted John D. MacDonald on this many times—he wanted “unobtrusive poetry” in his prose.

I’m currently reading the Mike Hammer books in order. It’s fascinating to see Mickey Spillane growing as a writer. His blockbuster first novel, I, The Jury, is pure action, violence, and sex. It reads today almost like a parody. But with his next, My Gun is Quick, he begins to infuse Hammer with an inner life that makes him more interesting. By the time we get to his fourth book, One Lonely Night, Hammer is a welter of passions and inner conflict threatening to tear him apart. His First-Person voice is still hard-boiled, but it achieves what one critic called “a primitive power akin to Beat poetry.” And Ayn Rand, no less, put One Lonely Night ahead of anything by Thomas Wolfe!

In short, Spillane didn’t rest on his first-novel laurels. He pushed himself to be better.

He risked it for the biscuit.

James Scott Bell—September 24, 2022

***

How about you? How do you approach creative risk? What do you do to help yourself prepare?

Turn the Tables on AI Scams

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by Debbie Burke

 

Last post, we talked about scam emails generated by AI chatbots. Just for fun, here’s a great bingo game from R.L. Maizes the Elder on Electric Lit.

My bingo card would be a total blackout except for the squares “Piss me off and I’ll tank your Amazon ratings” and “reply with bank acct #s and PIN codes.” But the day is young. Those emails could arrive in my inbox any moment now.

I have to admit grudging admiration for the evolving progress of scam emails over the past few months. They may be crooked, but they aren’t stupid. ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, and their cousins continue to improve and refine their approach. In fact, some scammers have gotten so good, they may have inadvertently outsmarted themselves.

After plowing through the sycophantic flattery, several recent solicitations offered surprisingly good analyses of my book sales pages. They not only pointed out flaws, they offered valid critiques. Some outlined detailed promotional strategies targeted specifically for my books.

Hey, I thought, why don’t I take their plans and put them into action myself? Turn the tables on the scammer.

Test-driving their advice costs nothing except my time.


That’s probably not what they had in mind but, if they offer free advice, who am I to turn it down?

I started keeping a file called “Good AI scam ideas,” saving the best as references.

Here are several examples that gave valid critiques. I highlighted portions in red that especially struck a chord:

From: JaneBennett250@gmail.com

“Fruit of the Poisonous Tree, Book 9, currently sits inside Psychological Thriller on Amazon, a subgenre with very specific reader expectations, unreliable narrators, dark domestic tension, interior psychological weight.

The Tawny Lindholm series is something different: investigative, legally grounded, relationship-driven, anchored in Montana’s landscape and community.”  

Bot Jane is right. The category I chose is wrong. I need to act on that.

Another good point:

“Your Kill Zone presence is consistent and professional but that audience is other writers, not readers looking for their next thriller series.”

True.

From Joseph Booth, with a gmail address:

I’ll be honest I almost didn’t write this email because I wasn’t sure how to open it without sounding like every other marketing pitch you’ve probably deleted without reading.”

See how smart this bot is. It already knows I automatically trash the type of message it’s sending. Because of that hook, I kept reading.

“But then I met The Villain’s Journey.

A craft-of-writing guide that flips the Hero’s Journey on its head and takes writers straight into the darkest depths of the human soul. Who shows exactly how to create villains readers love to hate from comic troublemakers and charming sociopaths to terrifying psychopaths, fatal females, avenging angels, and every shade in between. Who arms writers with Build-a-Villain worksheets, deep psychological insights, and practical techniques to make antagonists multi-dimensional, unforgettable, and story-driving.

That’s not just another writing book. That’s a game-changer for storytellers. And writers who find it don’t let go.”

Okay, I confess I don’t mind a little flattery even though it’s vacuumed directly from my book sale page.

“Here’s what stops me cold: 23 ratings. A 4.8 average with writers calling it “much needed,” “a master class,” “essential,” and “the resource we’ve been waiting for.” One reviewer said it filled a gaping hole in the industry. Another called it a terrific guide that will push heroes to the limit and keep readers up at night.

What’s missing is reach and that’s exactly what I build.”

Now Bot Joseph is getting down to business. At this point, I almost quit reading but then noticed the plan of action he proposed:

“I help writing craft and fiction authors like you create real, sustainable momentum not through noise or gimmicks, but through targeted, story-honoring strategy that puts The Villain’s Journey: How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate in front of the writers who will absolutely lose their minds over the practical tools. Here’s exactly what that looks like for your book:

Goodreads Review Building: With only 23 ratings, The Villain’s Journey is still below the visibility threshold that Goodreads and Amazon’s algorithms need to start recommending it organically. I work with authors to build genuine Goodreads credibility 400 to 500 real readers, no bots, no manufactured accounts, who leave honest, genre-aligned reviews.”

Despite Joseph’s assurances, I suspect the 400-500 reviews would be written by its/his bot pals. However, the recommended categories make sense.

Goodreads Listopia Domination: We get The Villain’s Journey placed and voted up on the high-traffic lists where your exact reader is already browsing: “Best Writing Craft Books,” “Best Books on Character Development,” “How to Write Villains,” “Books for Mystery & Thriller Writers,” “Creative Writing Reference,” and other targeted lists where serious writers hunt for their next must-read craft book.”

Okay, Listopia might be helpful. Then Joseph started droning about Amazon ads, Facebook, and Insta. I was getting bored and ready to hit “trash” until it/he tossed out this gem:

“Sales Funnel Optimization: A complete reader journey built around The Villain’s Journey and the craft of creating unforgettable antagonists:

Top-of-funnel free magnet a downloadable “Build-a-Villain Quick-Start Worksheet” delivered via BookFunnel to grow your list with writers who want better bad guys.

Mid-funnel nurture with extra villain examples, Q&A with Debbie Burke, and teases from her Tawny Lindholm thriller series.

Bottom-funnel pushes through timed discount campaigns, writing conference outreach, and sequences that turn first-time readers into loyal buyers of your future craft books and fiction.

That sales funnel program sounded imaginative and effective. I’ll follow the specific, step-by-step instructions and give it a try. Thanks, Bot Joseph!

Another example from: authoreditorsusanwels@gmail.com:

Where Your Book Stands Today, and the Extraordinary Potential Just Ahead

Your guide sits within a highly engaged and continually growing space:

  • Fiction writers seeking craft improvement
  • Crime, thriller, and mystery authors
  • Screenwriters and storytellers across media
  • Writing students and workshops
  • Readers of craft books who actively apply what they learn

At present, however, your book is not yet being consistently surfaced across all of these communities.”

Again, valid critique plus suggestions whom to target. Bot Susan goes on with her strategy:

The Blueprint for Your Book’s Reach and Reader Engagement

The Foundation: Discoverability and Metadata Optimization
Your book will be positioned within writing craft, character development, and storytelling psychology categories to ensure visibility across platforms where writers search for guidance.

The Heartbeat: Writing Community Engagement
I will connect your work with writing groups, workshops, and online communities where craft discussions are already happening.

The Accelerant: Targeted Promotion
Campaigns will highlight the unique angle of your book—its focus on villains as central drivers of story capturing the attention of writers looking for fresh approaches.

The Amplifier: Educational and Content Integration
Your material is well-suited for excerpts, guest articles, and teaching opportunities, positioning your book as both a resource and a reference.

Thanks, Bot Susan, for these ideas.

An email from Jessicadoyle430@gmail included colorful graphics of a magnifying glass, a book, and a gift-wrapped package. It/she also suggested Listopia categories:

Right now, the discoverability infrastructure around The Villain’s Journey does not yet reflect the full scope of that waiting audience. That gap is entirely fixable and here is exactly how I would fix it:
The Villain’s Journey belongs prominently on at least fifteen to twenty of the highest-traffic Goodreads Listopia lists. Lists like Best Books on the Craft of Writing, Best Books for Writers of Mysteries and Thrillers, Best Books for Crime Writers, Best Writing Craft Books for Character Development, Best Books About Villains and Antagonists, Best Resources for Writers, Plotting and Structure, Best Books for NaNoWriMo Prep, and Best Writing Reference Books.  I would run a targeted, fully organic voting campaign to place The Villain’s Journey in top positions across every relevant list, generating compounding, perpetual discovery at zero ongoing cost.

“Zero ongoing cost”? Notice Bot Jessica’s careful wording. Misleading assurances like this snare many writers. If I responded (which of course I won’t!), in the next round of emails, Jessica would likely ask for money. 

REVIEW OUTREACH & ARC PLACEMENT
The most powerful lever for this book right now is building a strong review base among the writers’ community most likely to evangelize it. I would curate a targeted list of fifty to seventy-five reviewers specifically matched to this book craft-of-writing bloggers and influencers, crime and thriller fiction writing communities, NaNoWriMo participants and facilitators, mystery writer guild members, and serious indie authors actively building their craft libraries.

Goodreads Giveaway for The Villain’s Journey timed around NaNoWriMo or major crime writing conference seasons would simultaneously drive a significant surge of “Want to Read” shelf additions; place the book in the hands of actively writing readers highly likely to post substantive, practical reviews; and generate organic buzz across writers’ communities that would amplify every other element of this campaign. 

Author Profile Optimization: your Amazon Author Central page and Goodreads profile should be telling the full, compelling story of who you are and what makes you the definitive voice on villain craft. I would rebuild both profiles with compelling, keyword-rich copy separating and optimizing both your fiction and nonfiction presence.

Although Bot Jessica’s assurances are empty promises, it/she nevertheless outlined good sources for me to contact as well as ways to reframe my author profile.

Elenablake546@gmail.com nailed a specific weakness in my blurb. 

Your blurb opens with the Hero’s Journey comparison and moves efficiently through a bulleted list of what readers will learn. The list is comprehensive, but it reads more like a table of contents than an emotional pitch. Writers browsing craft books make purchase decisions on one question: will this solve my specific problem right now? The problem this book solves, cardboard villains who don’t challenge the hero enough to make the story matter, deserves to be named explicitly in the first two sentences before the feature list appears.

Revise the blurb opening to lead with the problem before the solution. Something like: “Your hero is only as powerful as the villain who opposes them. A flat antagonist makes for a forgettable story. The Villain’s Journey gives you the tools to create criminals, manipulators, and monsters that haunt your readers long after the final page.” Then move into the taxonomy and worksheets. This mirrors how the top-performing craft books in your also-bought carousel open their descriptions, and it signals immediately to every fiction writer regardless of genre that this book solves the problem they’re struggling with right now.

Bot Elena, I appreciate the excellent critique and rewrite suggestion.

From aliceclarkwinn@gmail.com:

Your Vogler and Bell endorsements are the most valuable assets any craft book author could have, and they’re functioning as static text on a product page.

James Scott Bell has over 30 craft books and a devoted readership of writers who trust his recommendations implicitly. When Bell says your book “filled a critical gap,” that sentence should be reaching every writer in his audience. But right now, both endorsements sit on your Amazon page, seen only by people who already found your book through other means. The endorsement from Vogler is not being used as a discovery tool. It’s being used as a closing argument for people who’ve already arrived. That’s like having a celebrity recommend your restaurant and only telling the people who are already seated inside.

Dual positioning: you don’t just teach villain writing, you demonstrate it in your own fiction. But are your thriller readers being guided to The Villain’s Journey? When a reader finishes a Tawny Lindholm book and thinks “how does she make these villains so compelling,” is there a clear path from that thought to your craft book? Conversely, when a writer reads The Villain’s Journey and wants to see your villain theory in action, are they immediately guided to your thrillers? This cross-pollination between your fiction and nonfiction should be one of your strongest competitive advantages over every other craft book author who only teaches but doesn’t demonstrate. But without deliberate cross-promotion infrastructure (back matter links, email sequences, bundled promotions, coordinated Amazon advertising), your two audiences remain separate pools that never merge. 

A targeted visibility campaign across writing craft podcasts (where a segment on “the villain’s journey as the mirror of the hero’s journey” positions you as the natural evolution of Vogler’s framework), writing conference communities, NaNoWriMo forums and social channels (where villain-craft content performs exceptionally well during planning season), AuthorTube and WritingTok creator outreach, and craft-focused newsletters like Jane Friedman’s Hot Sheet, Writer Unboxed, and DIY MFA. Vogler’s endorsement gives you a hook that no other villain-craft book can claim: “The man who defined the Hero’s Journey says this is the book that defines the Villain’s Journey.” That positioning sentence alone can anchor an entire media campaign. 

Bot Alice delivered an excellent list of places to pitch as well as the framework to connect my fiction and nonfiction.

This email from “author amplifier” Barbara Warren (gmail, of course) outlined similar strategies mentioned above but added a fresh twist which shows how quickly bots adapt and improvise. This one anticipated objections it expected writers to raise: 

Your Next Step
Reply to this email with two words:

“Send plan.”

That is it. No phone call. No discovery call. No PDF full of pricing tiers. No scheduling a “quick chat” that turns into a sales pitch.

I will reply with a simple, actionable roadmap. 

If you like the plan, you keep it. Use it. Share it. If you want my help executing it, we talk then. If not, you have a free strategic document from someone who genuinely believes The Villain’s Journey should be required reading for any writer who wants to create villains readers love to hate.

Sorry, Barbara, your offer is tempting but I don’t want to wind up on the Chatbot Sucker List that sells my email to every scammer in the universe.

Marketing has always been my weakness. These bots identified problems and offered specific actions to solve them. This is where AI shines. 

Normally I immediately trash spam but now I give it a second look. If the advice sounds plausible and doable, I save it to the “Good AI scam idea” folder.

Writers still need to be wary. “Out of the blue” solicitations are 99.99999+% scams. Best practice is to not respond to them. 

However, some of their suggestions are valid and useful. We can take advantage of good free advice, as long as we don’t allow scammers to take advantage of us.

TKZers, how about you?

Have you received spam/scam emails with advice that’s actually helpful? Have you put the ideas into practice? Were they successful?

~~~

Following Bot Alice’s advice, I’m cross-promoting fiction and nonfiction.

Meet the dastardly villains in the Tawny Lindholm Thriller three-book gift set. Then discover how I built those characters in The Villain’s Journey-How to Create Villains Readers Love to Hate.

Click on covers for sales links. 

Love and Death

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Last Saturday I was a panelist at Symposium, a very small writing-focused science fiction event held in my neck of the proverbial woods.

The guest of honor was a local writer, Steve Perry, who has had seventy plus novels published in science fiction, fantasy, thriller, including a NYT best selling Star Wars novel, Shadows of Empire, and ten books in Tom Clancy’s Net Force series.

He and I were part of the first panel of the day, “Love and Death—the only two things worth writing about.” We five panelists agreed that love and death were indeed fundamental to fiction, as they are in life. As Steve noted, everyone hopes for the former and will, eventually, face the latter.

The rest of that session tackled the questions posed in the panel’s description, such as what makes for a good plot, and what are the elements you are looking for, etc.

But the panel got me thinking further about the role of love and death in fiction, and how both are central to story telling.

Death.

Whether the world is at stake, or just one life, the risk of death can both shape and propel a story forward.

During the panel I brought up character death, citing our own James Scott Bell’s three kinds of death stakes:

“As I’ve written many times, the best fiction is about a battle with death, which comes in three forms: physical, professional/vocational, or psychological/spiritual.”

I added a fourth, societal. The risks of dying in any of these ways creates huge stakes for the character, and can drive the plot. Physical death is obvious. Psychological death is a loss of identity, sanity

Speaking of the plot, there’s the plot’s own “death stakes,” which could be one and the same with your hero’s death stakes, or could be death on a bigger scale, and which could also be potential psychological death of a community, or even the death of an ideal, such as justice or freedom, etc.

Love.

We tend to think of love as romantic love, but of course that’s only one kind. There’s love for family, as well as your community and your country.

Brotherly/sisterly platonic love can be powerful grist for the story mill. A little while back I joined my wife’s CraftLit group for an online watch of one of my all time-favorite movies, The Great Escape, which is filled with death stakes, both for characters and as part of the plot.

The Great Escape also depicts brotherly love, based on friendship and a bond brought about by the shared circumstances of war and imprisonment. We see several examples in the movie. There is the scrounger, Hedley, played to perfection by James Garner, and the forger, Blythe, equally well portrayed by Donald Pleasence who become friends while working together. Then there’s the two tunnel kings, Danny, played by Charles Bronson, and his friend Willie (John Leyton).

Hedley insists on taking a now sight-impaired Blythe out with him during the escape, increasing his own risk of physical death.

Willie stays with Danny to guide him when Danny is overcome by claustrophobia. The two stick together and find a way to freedom.

Being willing to lay your life down for another, is a sacrifice for love. Being willing to move heaven and earth to save someone, say a kidnapped lover, can be the stuff of thrillers and failure could result in not only physical death for the lover, but also psychological death for the hero.

Another classic movie example of love and death:

Alfred Hitchcock’s North By Northwest sees Cary Grant’s advertising executive thrust into a world of deadly espionage, thanks to being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being mistaken for someone else.

He faces death multiple times in the course of the movie, including memorably at a crossroads when a crop dusting plane turns out to be an assassin’s weapon. He meets and falls for a beautiful young woman, played by Eva Marie Saint, who is not what she seems. In the end, he survives and gets the girl. Love and death drive a suspenseful, relentlessly paced film.

Modern mysteries often have death stakes for the sleuth, who can face not only the prospect of a a physical death, but also psychological and professional, and, especially in a cozy, can deal with societal death.

Moreover, they focus on solving a murder, and these death stakes can be in play for the victim as well as the killer’s motives. The victim may have caused what the villain perceives as death, perhaps the psychological death from the killer’s romantic relationship having been ruptured by jealousy or even betrayal, or professional (vocational) death, again by something the killer perceives as being done to them by the victim. And the killer certainly could be correct.

Modern mysteries can also have a love interest or interests for the sleuth, as in the cases of Stephanie Plum bounty hunter and Hannah Swensen baker and amateur detective. Both deal with long running romantic triangles. Both also regularly deal with potential death stakes for themselves.

So, love and death. Are they indeed the only things worth writing about?

For my part, I’d say they may not be the only things, but they are certainly two of the most important things to write about.

What do you think?

Mojo Words of Wisdom

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Have you ever lost your writing mojo? Have you been blocked, overwhelmed by self-doubt, or felt your motivation to write vanish?

If so, today’s Words of Wisdom has you covered with advice from Clare Langley-Hawthorne, Boyd Morrison, and James Scott Bell. While the first two posts are included in their entirety, it’s well worth visiting the original posts to read the comments, and of course, JSB’s post is also worth reading in full.

I’ve been feeling like a bit of a loser of late – perhaps it’s the summer (or the week off from preschool which placed me in writing limbo) – but my writing mojo feels a little dented so I’ve had to claw my way back from depression-dom to start the week off. The only way I know how to beat the writing blues – not a writing block mind you – but that plague of self-doubt that hits you at midnight and which follows you through the day – is to resort to an old-fashioned tried and true method. Bum Glue.

This means that I sit down and, no matter how crappy or disillusioned I feel, I write. What gets typed may be absolute drivel (and it often is at first) but I persevere. I sit down, keep my bum glued to the seat, and write.

Tonight, as I compose this blog, I am preparing myself for the challenge of a week of bum glue ahead of me. I am trying to shaking off the panic and the angst, trying to shove back the “I’m a loser” thoughts and getting ready to face my fears. As Jim so aptly wrote in his post yesterday, I just have to move up the pyramid and the only way to do that is to keep writing.

So does anyone have any pearls of wisdom for me as I take a deep breath, wriggle my behind, and prepare? How do you restore your spirits or reclaim your writing mojo? Or am I the only one who suddenly finds themselves in that deep pit looking up and wondering how to escape?

Any tips on getting the bum glue to stick?

Clare Langley-Hawthorne—August 31, 2009

It only occurred to me recently how apt the word brainstorm truly is. Perhaps it was prompted by watching the terrible effects of Hurricane Sandy, but I’m sure it was also related to my own story problems lately.

I’m working on my fourth Tyler Locke book right now, and I’ve been having a hell of a time wrapping my head around why the plot just wasn’t working. I had a synopsis and basic outline, but the elements weren’t gelling into a cohesive story. No matter what I did with the plot I had, it wouldn’t work. It was as if I were trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle with pieces from three different boxes. The individual elements were all great, but for some reason they didn’t fit together.

It was the dreaded writer’s block. But I’ve written five novels already, so how could that be possible? Shouldn’t I have the process figured out by now? If I were a golfer, I’d curse my case of the yips. The stuff that should be an easy putt by now was suddenly impossible. The mojo was gone, and I didn’t know if it was a permanent condition or more specific to this story.

Then my wife reminded me that this happens with every book. I always reach a point where I want to chuck the whole thing and move on to something else because I can’t figure out what’s wrong with the story. She recited my familiar lamentations back to me: “This is never going to work.” “I’ll never finish the book.” “Why did I start writing this stupid thing in the first place?”

As Christopher Vogler describes in The Writer’s Journey, I had reached the deepest chamber of the Inmost Cave to face the Ordeal. And the defining element of the Ordeal is the hero’s death and rebirth.

So I had to throw out all the assumptions I had about the story up to that point. I had to look at each and every part of it and decide whether to keep it, toss it, change it, or put it somewhere else. It was time to brainstorm.

As with the most violent storms, like hurricanes and tornadoes, everything in the story was at risk: characters, scenes, settings, action, even premise. Then I unleashed the gale. Some parts were ripped away, while others right next to them remained virtually untouched. Whole swaths of the story were decimated, while others were picked up gently and set down intact in an entirely different place.

When the storm was over, many of the individual pieces were still identifiable, but the overall rearrangement gave the story a completely new life. While real storms bring tragedy, my brainstorming was as beneficial as it was difficult. Yes, there’s a lot of cleanup still to do, but I can build something long-lasting from the wreckage.

So my question for the writers out there is, how do you get out of writer’s block? Do you unleash the brainstorm, or is there a less turbulent method to dislodge the block?

Boyd Morrison—November 5, 2012

I love the NaNo vibe. Writers writing. Newbies trying. Keyboards clacking. Coffee brewing. Possibilities awakening. It’s a major accomplishment to finish a novel. To do it in one month is astounding.

Of course, it’ll only be a first and very rough draft. But it will exist. You can let it sit for a month and then figure out what to do with it. One likely outcome is that you’ll use it as a “discovery draft” that now allows you to structure a re-write. Another is that the novel never sees the light of day. That’s fine, so long as you get some writing lessons out of it. Analyze the draft. Judge your craft. Make a plan to strengthen your skills.

At the very least you will have proved something to yourself. Unless you’re a full-time writer, averaging 1667 words a day is hard. Doing so for a month stretches you. When you get back to your normal rate of production, try to up it by 10% now that you’ve gone through NaNo.

Here are three other NaNo tips:

Plan

NaNoWriMo is catnip for pantsers. But a little planning (starting today) can make all the difference in your final product.

First, take a day to do some free-form journaling on your idea. Who it’s about, why it matters, why anybody should care. Jot down scene ideas that come to mind, in random order.

Second, take one day to define your concept with a three sentence “elevator pitch.” This will be your plumb line, what keeps you from getting too far away from the essence of your story. Even if you go down rabbit trails, you can use this to get yourself back on the main track. (On the form of an elevator pitch, see my TKZ post here.)

Finally, brainstorm a tentative “mirror moment” for your main character. This beacon of light will help you find your way if you get stuck in the dark.

Write

Check out my 10 tips for powering through NaNoWriMo.

Try to get a “nifty 350” words done the very first thing in the morning (or second, after you get the coffee going … hey, maybe invest in a coffee maker with a timer!)

Don’t edit your work except for a quick review of your daily pages. If you can do that review right before hitting the sack, so much the better. Your “boys in the basement” will work through the night and you can dive into writing the next morning.

James Scott Bell—October 15, 2017

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Additional resources:  BICHOK Words of Wisdom

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Along with the questions asked above, have you ever lost your own writing mojo? If so, what helped you reclaim it?

Yet More Short Story Words of Wisdom

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Despite all the changes in publishing, new short stories are still appearing in print and digitally. Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen magazines continue to publish short stories, as do various anthologies, and of course they are also an option for indie authors.

Short stories can also be a proven way to level up your writing, helping you improve existing skills and forge new ones in just a few thousand words. Typically much less writing time is at stake with short stories versus novels, and even if your latest story doesn’t work, it can teach you something in the process.

Today’s Words of Wisdom reaches into the archives for insights on writing short fiction from posts by James Scott Bell, Reavis Wortham, and John Gilstrap.

As you know, we’ve been celebrating the release of Fresh Kills here on TKZ. It’s been a pleasure working with my blogmates, pros all, to bring you these new stories, at an attractive price. Look for Fresh Kills at amazon, scribd or smashwords.

My contribution to the anthology is “Laughing Matters,” a title that has more than one meaning, as you’ll find out. And that’s sort of what the best short stories do; they work on at least a couple of levels.

Certainly, the literary short story is like that. In college I got to take a writing workshop with Raymond Carver, and that’s what his stories are famous for. They have something going on up top, on the surface, but when you finish you realize there’s a rich layer underneath that you’ve missed (and I have to confess, I usually did, and would have to re-read each one a couple of times).

In the suspense or mystery category, you need to deliver a story that has a surprise in it somewhere, to keep the reader guessing. Jeffery Deaver has written two volumes of such tales in his Twisted series, and even challenges the reader to try to outguess him. It’s cool when it works, but it’s hard to do. Which is why this kind of story is every bit as challenging as the literary sort.

The germ of “Laughing Matters” came one day when I was thinking about all the standup comics in LA who never make it. I must have just seen some clip of a comedian doing post-Seinfeld observational humor (one of thousands) and just thought, this is dull. This is derivative. This guy’s not going to go very far.

Which reminded me of a time when I was living and acting in New York, and went to a comedy club for “open mike.” There were some funny guys, and then there was this one kid who was obviously onstage for the first time. The sort whose grandmother must have told him, “Sonny, you are so funny! You should go tell your jokes on television!”

Anyway, the kid comes out, he’s nervous, and tells a joke. It fell to the ground with a thud that echoed through the club. He got rattled. And you know what happens when you get rattled in front of the 11 p.m. crowd in New York City on open mike night? It was brutal. The kid made it through maybe two more jokes, neither of which worked, and then froze. As the crowd piled on with jeers and snorts, he stood there, choking the mike stand, unable to move or speak.

The emcee, noting what was going on, jumped in from the wings with his big smile, clapping his hands, shouting “Let’s hear it for _____ !” and then took the guy’s arm and guided him off the stage.

There must have been public hangings easier to watch.

So all of that came to me as I wrote the opening lines:

He died. 

Pete Harvey, “The Harv” as he billed himself, just flat out died in front of the 11 p.m. crowd at the Comedy Zone. 

Then I have Pete sitting at the bar afterward, drowning his sorrows, when a most interesting gent sits down next to him. And the story came to me in a flash, twists and all. This is, I’d wager, how the best short stories usually appear. But then you write, re-write and polish, and hopefully come up with something that works.

I’ve reclaimed my love of the short story, and have decided to keep writing them. Maybe I’ll put out my own collection sometime. It’s nice to have a market for stories again. Because short stories matter, it seems to me. A good story can deliver a hugely satisfying reading experience in small span of time.

FWIW, here are some of my favorite short stories, based on the wallop I felt at the end:

“Hills Like White Elephants,” Ernest Hemingway

“Soldier’s Home,” Ernest Hemingway

“The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze,” William Saroyan

“A Word to Scoffers,” William Saroyan

“A Perfect Day for Bananafish,” J.D. Salinger

“The End of the Tiger,” John D. MacDonald

“Chapter and Verse,” Jeffery Deaver

James Scott Bell—February 7, 2010

Joe laughed and took a sip of iced tea. “There’s your short story.”

I came home thinking about it, but haven’t yet written it down. But it’s there, perking along until the day I write the first sentence, “The boys finished their Schlitz beers and decided they were going to meet Elvis Presley, come hell or high water,” or something like that.

Those stories come easier than I expected. Maybe it’s because I write mini-stories every week for my newspaper columns in The Paris News, Country World, and now for Saddlebag Dispatches magazine. They come to mind as a single sentence, and then I watched as my fingers type out 950 words in one sitting that will “go to press” the next day. They’re mini-short stories, a snippet of time or experience, in which I give readers a quick glimpse into the view from my own hill.

When we’re working on novels, authors create whole new fictional worlds and can revel in taking their time to describe these worlds and establish character backgrounds and settings. In a short story, we create a can of condensed soup in a sense that, if we wanted to, could sometimes expand into a novel.

I think of them as that tiny world inside a globe, those glass spheres containing a tiny piece of a mythical world. In this case, these miniature scenes don’t always have snow, unless it’s essential to the plot.

Essential to the plot. In short stories, every element, word, character, and bit of dialogue has to be informative, moving the story forward, and must relate to everything else. The logic of the narrative has to be short and concise.

To me, it’s like flipping through the pages of a novel and picking out the necessary bits and pieces to write a book report. A quick read of what could be more, but isn’t.

There’s no room for sweeping descriptions and extensive development. In my view, the author has to know the character’s entire backstory at the outset, and the setting’s history that’s revealed by bits of information dropped in a sentence or two, or as action dialogue tags.

Readers must be swept into these juicy stories with the right words, phrases, and pacing. I suppose it’s like satisfying our need for immediate satisfaction these days. In other words you have about 6,000 words to set up the story arc, very short Acts 1 and 2, before that last couple of pages in which the bombshell drops. In fact, some authors set off that climax bomb in a couple of paragraphs, or even one breathtaking sentence.

Writing short stories is an excellent way to warm up, to refill the creative basket between novels, and to achieve the personal satisfaction of a job well done.

Reavis Wortham—April 12, 2025

 

“All Revved . . .” is, hands down, the darkest story I’ve ever written. You can find it in the recently published anthology, Bat Out Of Hell, edited by Don Bruns, and the story is inspired by the title of one of the songs on the famous Meat Loaf album from the 1970s. The story tells the tale of Ace Spade, an off-duty firefighter and search and rescue operator who’s trying to impress a young lady with his four-wheeling skills in the back woods of West Virginia when things go terribly wrong. After he wrecks his Jeep in the middle of nowhere, the man who they think is there to lend assistance turns out to be a killer who wants to hunt them down and kill them.

As regular Killzoners know, I don’t outline, so even I was surprised by the lengths to which our characters would go to stay alive. I don’t want to give to much away, but let’s just say that in the end, everyone acts in his or her best interests.

As a writer who’s carved a niche for myself by writing stories with moral clarity where good triumphs over evil, it was kind of refreshing to clean the creative pipes with a story where there really are no good guys–just . . . survivors.

Here’s my take on short stories: They’re not really part of an author’s permanent record, in the sense that I think they don’t necessarily reflect their true storytelling sensibilities. In a short story, I can feel free to kill a cat or cavort with vampires. I could even write a romance–even though I don’t think I’m actually capable of doing that.

This is why I cringe when I hear writerly advice given to newbies that they should cut their teeth writing short stories before they take on the burden of a novel. To me, that’s like telling a budding cook that they need to perfect the art of scrambling eggs before they bake Thanksgiving turkey. One has nothing to do with the other–or where the skill cross, the intersection is so tangential as to be meaningless.

It’s equally important to note that novel-writing skills can get you in trouble when crafting a short story. I was fortunate that submission rules asked for an approximate submission length of 8,000 words for Bat Out of Hell. If I’d had to turn in flash fiction, or anything under, say, 3,000 words, I would have considered myself unqualified from the start.

John Gilstrap—August 20, 2025

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There you have it, three more insights on writing short stories and why short fiction matters.

Here are links to the two previous Words of Wisdom on Short stories: https://killzoneblog.com/2024/01/words-of-wisdom-short-stories.html and https://killzoneblog.com/2025/05/more-short-story-words-of-wisdom.html

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Do short stories matter to you, and if so, how?

If you write short fiction, have you ever started from an event you witnessed or experienced personally?

Do you agree with John Gilstrap short stories don’t count on your “permanent record?”

Descriptive Words of Wisdom

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If plot is the muscle of your fiction and structure is the bones, description is the skin. Today’s Words of Wisdom takes a look at the “skin” of your story, presenting two superb, longer excerpts from the TKZ archives dealing with description. The first, by James Scott Bell, gives advice on how to help the reader feel your description. The second, by Terry Odell, looks at how to handle character descriptions in both first person and deep third POVs.

You describe a scene not so the reader can see it, but so the reader can feel it. And the way they feel it is by knowing how the point-of -view character feels about it.

That’s why I’ve developed a seven-step checklist for myself for writing a setting description. It takes a little extra time, but I’ve determined that the stylistic ROI (return on investment) is worth it. Here we go:

  1. How do you want your character to feel about the setting?

This is the crucial first step, and it’s a strategic one. You know where you are in your story and what the character’s attitudes and emotional landscape are. You know what’s going to happen in the scene (note to pantsers: you’ve at least got some idea). Now you’re going to set the scene through the character’s perceptions about it. Your decision can be as simple as: I want my character to feel intimidated. 

Note that you don’t have to name the emotion when you write the scene. In fact, it’s better not to. Let the setting itself create the feeling.

  1. Using the sense of sight, describe the things the character notices.

The items that come into your mind will now be filtered through the POV character. If you want to locate a picture via the Internet, go ahead. But as you look at it, pretend you are the character and try to feel what she feels. Make a list of the items your character doesn’t just see, but notices. This is a crucial distinction. We focus on different things depending on our mood. If you’re unhappy and you walk into a sunny hotel foyer, you might ignore the fancy art and notice instead a droopy plant.

Do a little voice journaling. Have the character talk to you in her own voice, expressing her feelings about what she notices.

  1. Use the other senses to add to the feeling.

Imagine what the character might hear, smell, touch, or even in some cases taste. Make a list.

  1. Look at the items from Steps 2 & 3 and highlight the ones that work best.

That didn’t take long, did it? Five to ten minutes. But if you’re having fun, do more!

  1. Bonus Supercharger: What is the character’s personal interpretation of the place?

Here is a powerful technique used by some of our best writers: when the character offers his own interpretation of the setting, it not only creates a sense of place, but also deepens the character for the reader. Double score!

Here are a couple of examples. This is from Robert B. Parker’s first Spenser novel, The Godwulf Manuscript:

The Homicide Division was third floor rear, with a view of the Fryalator vent from the coffee shop in the alley and the soft perfume of griddle and grease mixing with the indigenous smell of cigar smoke and sweat and something else, maybe generations of scared people. 

Parker uses sight and smell, but also adds generations of scared people. That’s from inside Spenser. That’s his own impression of the place. It tells me as much about Spenser as it does the setting.

Here’s a longer impressionistic description from John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee mystery, The Quick Red Fox. These are McGee’s feelings about San Francisco. (I apologize to all my friends in the City by the Bay!)

And so we drove back to the heart of the city. San Francisco is the most depressing city in America. The comelatelys might not think so. They may be enchanted by the steep streets up Nob and Russian and Telegraph, by the sea mystery of the Bridge over to redwood country on a foggy night, by the urban compartmentalization of Chinese, Spanish, Greek, Japanese, by the smartness of the women and the city’s iron clutch on culture. It might look just fine to the new ones.

But there are too many of us who used to love her. She was like a wild classy kook of a gal, one of those rain-walkers, laughing gray eyes, tousle of dark hair –– sea misty, a little and lively lady, who could laugh at you or with you, and at herself when needs be. A sayer of strange and lovely things. A girl to be in love with, with love like a heady magic.

But she had lost it, boy. She used to give it away, and now she sells it to the tourists. She imitates herself … The things she says now are mechanical and memorized. She overcharges for cynical services.

I think it’s fair to say we know how McGee feels about San Francisco! One of the things that made this series so popular was passages like the above, where McGee riffs on such matters as setting, social mores and current events.

  1. Write the description using active verbs and concrete images.

At this point, let me advise you to overwrite the description. Don’t try to get this perfect the first time through. Feel it first.

  1. Let the scene rest, then edit.

I don’t do heavy edits as I’m writing a first draft. But I do go over my previous day’s work for style and obvious fixes. So come back to your scene the next day, or at least after a time away from it, and keep the following in mind as you edit

James Scott Bell—August 7, 2016

Today’s focus is on dealing with character descriptions in First Person or Deep/Close/Intimate Third (which are almost the same thing.)

I am a deep point of view person. I prefer everything to come from inside the character’s head, However, I will read—and enjoy—books written with a shallower point of view. It all comes down to the way the author handles things.

What are authors trying to convey to their readers with physical character descriptions? The obvious: hair color, length, style to some extent. Eye color. Height, weight, skin color. Moving forward, odds are the character is dressed, so there’s clothing to describe. This is all easier in a distant third POV. Using that POV, you can stop the story for a brief paragraph or two of description, a technique used by John Sandford. In a workshop, he said he didn’t like going into a lot of detail, and listed the basics that he conveys in each book, usually in a single paragraph. Here’s how he describes Lucas Davenport in Chapter 2 of Eyes of Prey, one of his early Davenport books:

Lucas wore a leather bomber jacket over a cashmere sweater, and  khaki slacks and cowboy boots. His dark hair was uncombed and fell forward over a square, hard face, pale with the departing winter. The pallor almost hid the white scar that slashed across his eyebrow and cheek; it became visible only when he clenched his jaw. When he did, it puckered, a groove, whiter on white.

But what if you want to write in deep point of view? Staying inside the character’s head for descriptions is a challenge. Is the following realistic?

Sally rushed down the avenue, her green-and-yellow silk skirt swirling in the breeze, floral chiffon scarf trailing behind her. She adjusted her Oakley sunglasses over her emerald-green eyes. When she reached the door of the office building, she finger combed her short-cropped auburn hair. Her full, red lips curved upward in a smile. 

You’ve covered most of the “I want my readers to see Sally” bases, but be honest. Do you really think of yourself in those terms?

There are other ways to convey that information. First, trust that your reader will be willing to wait for descriptions. Make sure there’s a reason for the character to think about her clothes, or her hair. Maybe she just had a total makeover and isn’t used to the feel of short hair, or the new color, or the makeup job. Catching a glimpse of herself as she passes a mirror and doing a double-take is one of the few times the “Mirror” description could work for me.

Even better, use another character. Some examples of how I’ve handled it:

Here,  an ex-boyfriend has walked into Sarah’s shop and says to her:

“You look like you haven’t slept in a month. And your hair. Why did you cut it?”

“Well, thanks for making my morning.” Sarah fluffed her cropped do-it-yourself haircut. “It’s easier this way.”

Note: there’s no mention of the color. Someone else can bring it up later. Neither of these characters would be thinking of it in the context of the situation.

Later, Sarah is opening the door to Detective Detweiler. We’re still in her POV, but now we can see more about her as well as a description of the detective, and since it’s from her POV, there’s none of that ‘self-assessment’ going on.

She unlocked the door to a tall, lanky man dressed in black denim pants and a gray sweater, gripping several bulky plastic bags. At five-four, Sarah didn’t consider herself exceptionally short, but she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.

Sometimes, there are compromises. My editor knows I don’t like stopping the story, especially at the beginning to describe characters, but she knows readers might want at least a hint.

This was the original opening paragraph I sent to my editor:

Cecily Cooper’s heart pounded as she stood in the judge’s chambers, awaiting the appearance of Grady Fenton, the first subject in her pilot program, Helping Through Horses. She’d spent months working out the details, hustling endorsements, groveling for grant monies, and had done everything in her power to convince her brother, Derek, to give Grady a job at Derek’s Triple-D Ranch.

This was my editor’s comment to that opening: Can you add a personal physical tag for Cecily somewhere on the first page—hair, what she’s wearing? There’s a lot of detail that comes later, but there should be something here to help the reader connect with her right away.

So, I figured there’s a good reason I’m paying her, and added a bit more.

Shuffling footfalls announced Grady’s arrival. Cecily ran her damp palms along her denim skirt, wishing she could have worn jeans so she’d have pockets to hide the way her hands trembled.

My reasoning: I mentioned the skirt was denim, because the fabric helps set the “cowboy” theme for the book, but there’s no more detail than that. Not how many buttons, or whether it’s got lace trim at the hem. Now, let’s say she was wearing Sally’s “girly” skirt. For Cecily, that would be far enough out of character  for her to think about it, BUT, I’d make sure to show the reader her thoughts. Perhaps,

“She hated wearing this stupid yellow-and-green silk skirt—jeans were her thing—but Sabrina told her that skirt would impress the judge.”

See the difference between that and Sally’s self description earlier?

Terry Odell—May 12, 2021

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How do you help the reader feel your scene descriptions? If you write in first person or deep third, any additional advice on character description?

Research Words of Wisdom

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Today’s Words of Wisdom is a follow-up to my post from two weeks ago, this time focusing on advice on doing research for your writing. We have excerpts from posts by Kathleen Pickering, Linda Castillo and James Scott Bell. As always, the full posts are worth reading in full and each is date-linked at the bottom of its excerpt.

Personally, I prefer on-site research for my stories, and so far have been able to use that tool successfully. However, I do rely on the Internet for facts. Ironic as it sounds, I searched the Internet to find guidelines for researching reliable sources on-line. I found the most reliable tips from websites for university libraries. Since the first tip was to check the authority of a source, I thought colleges would offer the most unbiased tools for determining reliable information.

I found when choosing an article, blog, website, government document, historical journal or any resource posted online five key areas should be considered:

  1. The Authority of the author/publisher of information.

You should be able to identify the author of the work/site, his/her credentials, relevant affiliations, and past writings. The article itself should offer information, or sources like Who’s Who, the  author’s home page, or Google search the publishers/author’s name to see what other works support their credentials.

  1. The Objectivity of the author.

What is the motive for your source’s article, blog, website? Does your source admit to a particular bias? Offer historical, medical or industry facts and not opinions, or affiliation viewpoints? Can you compare the information to other independent sites/articles to verify facts?

  1. The Quality of the information:

Do the facts agree with your own knowledge of the subject? Can you insure information is complete and accurate by comparing with other specialists in the field? Does this author list other sources for his/her information, as well? And, believe it or not, check the site, article or blog for grammatical and spelling errors, typos. These usually indicate a non-professional delivery of information, making the facts suspect.

  1. Evaluate Date of information:

When was the information published?  Check the date on the web page for publication date and revision dates. Is the information current? Does it update old facts? Substantiate other materials you’ve read?

  1. Establish Relevance of the information:

Are these facts popular vs. scholarly? (Huffington Post vs. Wall Street Journal)Does the information use raw data, photographs, first-hand accounts, reviews or research reports? Has the information been analyzed and the resources cited? Are footnotes, endnotes or bibliographies listed?

Remember, Wikipedia is no the end-all of resources, since anyone can edit it. And, a rule of thumb is to ensure you tap at least five different sources to verify your facts before accepting your information as usable.

Kathleen Pickering—August 30, 2011

Nothing gets a writer’s creative juices flowing like research. Okay, that’s not exactly true for everyone, but the importance of solid research should never be underestimated.

There are three camps when it comes to that aspect of writing. First, there are the writers who love it. The obsessive-compulsive types who spend days or weeks or even months completely and happily immersed in whatever subject matter they’re about to embark upon.

Then there are writers like me, who walk a center line (not necessarily a straight line.) I research the central external theme of my book. For example, if the story involves a cold case and there’s a dead body in the mix, I’ll read everything I can get my hands on about decomp, forensics, and police procedure regarding old cases. For the smaller details, I research as I write.

And, finally, there are those writers who detest research. Writers who would rather . . . well . . . write than bury their noses in tomes of seemingly extraneous information for weeks on end. They want to get to the story already, and who can blame them if said story is burning—or a tight deadline beckons? Well, slow down, Mr. Type A, because in the end, solid research can save you hours of re-writing—and maybe even save the book.

One thing is certain: A writer can never know too much about his or her subject matter. That is an indisputable fact. Do your research and take the time to do it right. Thorough research will help you write the book. It can help you find that brilliant twist your story is begging for. It adds confidence to your voice. It adds power and credibility to your writing. In the long run, it can save you time. Knowledge and/or expertise cannot be faked, no matter how good a liar you are. If a writer tries to write about a subject he or she doesn’t know squat about, it will show. Readers will know.

A couple of quick caveats:

While it’s true that a writer can never do too much research, keep these two points in mind. Your research should never show. And you shouldn’t hide behind your research because you’re afraid to write the book. Writers, you know what I mean.

Linda Castillo—October 15, 2015

 

Some significant fakery occurs in the classic film, Casablanca. One of the screenwriters, Julius Epstein, once admitted:

There never were Letters of Transit. Germans never wore uniforms in Casablanca, that was part of the Vichy agreement. But we didn’t know what was going on in Casablanca. We didn’t even know where Casablanca was!

But Letters of Transit sounds real. Which is, of course, the key to fakery!

In the 1960s Lawrence Block wrote a paperback series about a world-roaming secret agent named Tanner. When he got the galleys for one of the books he saw an odd term in the text: tobbo shop. What? He checked his own manuscript and saw that he had written tobacco shop. The typesetter had made a mistake. But Block sat back and mused that tobbo shop had a realistic ring to it and besides, how many readers would have been to Bangkok? (I believe he even got some letters from readers who had been there, and did remember those “quaint tobbo shops.”)

Harlan Coben issues a warning about research:

“I think it’s actually a negative for writers sometimes when they’re writing contemporary novels to know too much. First of all, doing research is more fun than writing, so you start getting into the research and you forget to tell your story. And, second, which is on a very parallel track … sometimes you learn all kinds of cute factoids you think are so interesting that you include them in the book, but you weigh the story down. I try not to do that.”

One method I’ve used when writing hot (and not wanting to stop) and I get to a spot where I know I’ll need research, I’ll put in a placeholder (***) and keep writing. I’ll make my best guess about how the scene should go, then do any additions or corrections later.

On the other hand, when writing historical fiction, which demands detail precision, I have to do a lot of research up front. For my series about a young woman lawyer in turn-of-the-century Los Angeles, I spent many, many hours in the downtown L.A. library, poring over microfilm of the newspapers of the day. I have two huge binders full of this research, and I’m really proud of the results. But man, it’s hard work (am I right, Clare?)

But it’s worth it. When the first book came out almost twenty years ago it sold great and got uniformly positive reviews, several mentioning the historical accuracy. I did, however, get a physical letter (remember those?) from the curator of a telephone museum! He said he enjoyed the book, but there was one little detail about my lead, Kit Shannon, using a wall telephone, that I got wrong. The one guy in the United States who would have noticed this happened to read my book!

Naturally, it was not plausible to dump all the books in the warehouse to change that teeny, tiny thing. And who else was going to notice? But it rankled me, nonetheless.

When I got the rights back to the series, that was the only thing I wanted to change. All those years later I was still mad about it! Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the letter from the museum guy. I decided to try to find him online. Instead I found another museum and emailed somebody there, explaining the detail. In return, I got a nice email back telling me there was a model of telephone that operated exactly like I had it. It would have been used only by very wealthy people.

Which is how it was in my book. Kit lives with her wealthy great aunt in the posh section of town known as Angeleno Heights.

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Today, there are areas in your fiction that you’d better get right or you’ll hear about it, boy howdy. Perhaps the biggest of these is weapons. If you have your hero cocking the hammer of his Glock, expect a flood of abuse letting you know that a Glock has no hammer. (And if Gilstrap reads your book, duck, because he’ll be throwing it at you.) If you have your hero shoving another clip into his Beretta, you’ll have an irate horde telling you to shove … never mind, just note that a clip is not a magazine.

If you’re not accurate about a place, you’ll hear from people who live there. This is partly why I base most of my books in my hometown of Los Angeles. I grew up here. I know it. That it also happens to be the greatest crime-noir city is a bonus.

But sometimes I want to venture forth. In some instances, to save me from a cumbersome research trip, I simply make up a town and slap it down somewhere. If people want to take the time to look it up and find out it doesn’t exist, they’ll know I made it up and accept it. Ross Macdonald and Sue Grafton set their series in Santa Teresa, a stand-in for Santa Barbara that allowed them plenty of leeway to make up locations within. No one’s complaining.

James Scott Bell—May 10, 2020

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  1. What’s your approach to researching a subject for your own writing? Do you do a deep dive beforehand, or leave that for after?
  2. How do you verify your research?
  3. Have you ever fallen down a research rabbit hole?
  4. Do you invent places such as letters of transit or the wonderfully accidentally “Tobo shop?” If so, any advice?

I’m at my annual Rainforest writer’s retreat this weekend, so my internet access will be spotty, but I’ll try and pop in when I can. In the meantime, please comment on your own approach to research.