Category Archives: Writing

The Homme Fatal

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In a Lonely Place review – Bogart still captivatingly cynical in noir classic | Thrillers | The Guardian

“I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me.” — Dix Steel In A Lonely Place.

By PJ Parrish

I was sleepless in unsettlement — it had been a rough week what with apocalyptic smoke-sulphuric skies and gut parasites — so as usual I turned to my private Ambien — Turner Classic Movies. Eddie Muller was just coming on to introduce In A Lonely Place.

Two hours later, I was still wide awake and in awe. How in the world had I missed this movie? I devour old noir films yet this one had somehow always eluded me, even though it’s considered a classic. I come to you today, fedora in hand, deeply ashamed.

Humphrey Bogart, in what might be his finest performance, sheds his heroic armor to play the boozy, trigger-temper screenwriter Dix Steele, suspected of murder and captivated by his failed-starlet neighbor Gloria Grahame (who can say more with one raised eyebrow than most of today’s actresses can do with their lines.)

This isn’t your conventional noir. It’s more a psychological thriller and a heartbreaking love story. There’s no happily-ever-after, just what one writer called “an epitath for love.” It’s also a meditation on movies and screenwriting, and male cruelty. In the end, it also has an oddly feminist undernote.

I was so entranced by the movie that the next morning, I hied over to my library where I found the source material — Dorothy B. Hughes’ 1947 book. (It was re-issued three years ago by Penguin Modern Classics). Okay, again I confess shame, as I had never read the book. I’ve been making my way through the oldies for years now, But this one…wow.

I’m not alone here in my ignorance. The critic John Powers wrote:

It’s something of an axiom that good novels make bad movies, but one of my favorite exceptions is In A Lonely Place. For years, I lazily assumed that [director Nicolas Ray] had turned a lousy pulp thriller into a silk purse. Then one day, I finally read it. And I discovered that the novel is more groundbreaking than the film. And that Hughes belongs in the crime writing pantheon with male icons like Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler.

Now I have to turn to crime novelist Megan Abbot, who wrote the afterword for the re-issue::

Reading In a Lonely Place for the first time is like finding the long-lost final piece to an enormous puzzle. Within its Spanish bungalows, its eucalyptus-scented shadows, you feel as though you’ve discovered a delicious and dark secret, a tantalizing page-turner with sneakily subversive undercurrents. [Its]  influence on crime fiction is unsung yet inescapable. From Patricia Highsmith and Jim Thompson to Bret Easton Ellis and Thomas Harris, nearly every “serial killer” tale of the last seventy years bears its imprint—both in terms of its sleek, relentless style and its claustrophobic “mind of the criminal” perspective.

But its larger influence derives from Hughes’s uncanny grasp of the connection between violence and misogyny and an embattled masculinity. And its importance extends beyond form or genre and into cultural mythos: the birth of American noir.

That last part about toxic masculinity is important. Because while that aspect is present in the movie in the form of Bogart’s seething anger, the book is where the violence really boils over.

I was taken by how different the film is from the book. (Yes, we can name dozens of cases where this is true in crime fiction — and please feel free to weigh in here). But it’s really striking here.

In the book, Dix Steele is an actual serial killer, but in the movie he is a mere suspect in one hat-check girl’s death. In the book Steele is a true psychopath, who fakes being a crime novelist so he can sponge off a wealthy uncle. An ex fighter pilot, Steele is frustrated that his post-war life is so lifeless and emasculating, Steele turns to stalking and killing women for kicks. “They were all alike, cheats, liars, whores,” Steele says in the book. “Even the pious ones were only waiting for a chance to cheat and lie and whore.”

In the movie, Steele is still hot-headed but more as a screenwriter poisoned by temper and his desperation for another hit. And he is fatally capable of falling in love.

As Megan Abbott sagely noted, Hughes has always been fascinated by the loners who lurk on society’s edge. Hughes’ 1963 thriller The Expendable Man tackled American racism. With In A Lonely Place, she plunges us deep into Dix’s warped psyche. It reminds me somewhat of Patricia Highsmith’s Tom Ripley, in that we almost want to root for the guy because he’s so damaged.

Then there’s that feminist note I mentioned. The book, unlike the movie, is a scathing indictment of toxic masculinity.  And while the movie ends on plaintive note, the book is a twisty paen to post-war girl power. Again, I’ll quote Megan Abbott:

Dix’s story reveals the essence of being a violent hater. He tries to control his feelings of sadness and powerlessness, not through self-knowledge or personal change, but by finding someone to blame and erase — in this case, women. But far from bringing him salvation or even relief, his hatred turns out to be the loneliest place of all.

To his mind, the enemy is not the war, its trauma, but what men face upon their return: staid domesticity, the strictures of class, emasculation. And these threats are embodied wholly in women. Women, whose penetrating gazes are far mightier than his sword.

In case you haven’t seen or read either, I won’t give them away the two endings. I’ll leave that for you enjoy.

So, which is better — book or movie? I loved them both, for different reasons. The central theme is there in both, that the lonely place is not without, but within. Well, let’s let Hughes, via Dix Steele, tell you what that feels like:

Fear wasn’t a jagged split of light cleaving you; fear wasn’t a cold fist in your entrails; fear wasn’t something you could face and demolish with your arrogance. Fear was the fog, creeping about you, winding its tendrils about you, seeping into your pores and flesh and bone. Fear was a girl whispering a word over and again, a small word you refused to hear although the whisper was a scream in your ears, a dreadful scream you could never forget. You heard it over and again and the fog was a ripe red veil you could not tear away from your eyes.

In A Lonely Place. Watch it. Read it. You’ll thank me.

 

Use the Rule of Three to Triple the Impact

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The Rule of Three is a storytelling technique that makes writing more engaging, memorable, and impactful. (See! I used three adjectives.) It works because three is the perfect balance. One feels incomplete, two feels like a coincidence, but three? Three is a pattern, a rhythm, a satisfying payoff. Why does this work? Because humans are wired for patterns, and three is the smallest number that creates a full-fledged pattern. It builds expectation and then delivers on it.

Let’s dive into the Rule of Three and how you can use it in your writing.

The Power of Three in Story Structure

For screenwriters and novelists, the classic three-act structure (Beginning, Middle, End) is the foundation of storytelling. Act One sets up the world and problem. Act Two complicates everything. Act Three delivers the resolution. It’s storytelling in three neat parts.

💡 Try this: When structuring your story, think in threes. Give your protagonist three major obstacles to overcome. Have their character arc evolve in three key moments. Use three emotional beats to deliver that gut-punch ending.

The Power of Three Protagonists

Storytelling loves a good trio. Three examples:

  • Harry, Ron, and Hermione – Harry Potter Series
  • Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, and Han Solo – Star Wars Original Trilogy
  • The Three Musketeers: Athos, Porthos, and Aramis – The Three Musketeers
  • Buffy, Willow, and Xander – Buffy the Vampire Slayer
  • Kirk, Spock, and McCoy – Star Trek: The Original Series
  • Alvin, Simon, and Theodore – Alvin and the Chipmunks
  • The Powerpuff Girls: Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup – The Powerpuff Girls
  • Charlie’s Angels: Sabrina, Jill, and Kelly – Charlie’s Angels
  • The Three Stooges: Moe, Larry, and Curly – The Three Stooges
  • Jerry, Elaine, and George – Seinfeld
  • The Three Bears – Fairy Tale
  • The Three Little Pigs – Fairy Tale
  • The Three Wise Men – The Bible

Trilogies

We see the rule of three in the popularity of trilogies. We love a good story with three parts.

  1. The Lord of the Rings
  • The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)
  • The Two Towers (2002)
  • The Return of the King (2003)

2. The Godfather

  • The Godfather (1972)
  • The Godfather Part II (1974)
  • The Godfather Part III (1990)

3. The Dark Knight

  • Batman Begins (2005)
  • The Dark Knight (2008)
  • The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

The Rule of Three in Comedy

Like we talked about with witty banter, comedy loves the Rule of Three because it sets up an expectation—and then subverts it for laughs. The first two items in a sequence establish a pattern, and the third surprises.

  • “I came, I saw, I… forgot what I was doing.”
  • “She’s smart, she’s charming, and she once tried to order a taco at a bank drive-thru.”
  • “For our picnic, we packed sandwiches, fruit, and a live chicken.”

Think about classic comedic sequences: a character tries to do something and fails twice before succeeding—or failing spectacularly. It’s why slapstick works in three beats. The first two build anticipation; the third flips it on its head.

💡 Try this: If you’re writing humor, use a list of three with a twist on the third. Play with expectations and reversals to keep your readers laughing.

The Rule of Three in Dialogue

Ever notice how the best lines in movies and books often come in threes? It creates a rhythm that sticks in the audience’s mind.

  • Jaws: “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” (Three parts: You’re gonna / need / a bigger boat.)
  • Julius Caesar: “I came, I saw, I conquered.”
  • The Dark Knight: “Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

The Rule of Three in Description

In description, three is the magic number:

  • “Her dress was red, flowing, and impossible to ignore.”
  • “He had a voice like gravel, whiskey, and bad decisions.”
  • “The house was rambling, ramshackle, and ivy-covered.”

The Rule of Three in Pacing & Repetition

Repetition is powerful. It’s why speeches, slogans, and mantras use three.

  • “Location, location, location.”
  • “Stop, drop, and roll.”
  • “Blood, sweat, and tears.”

💡 Try this: When writing dialogue or descriptions, test out the Rule of Three. It adds balance, impact, and memorability.

Triple Your Writing Power

The Rule of Three isn’t just a gimmick—it’s a time-tested technique that makes stories more compelling, humor funnier, and messages more memorable. So next time you’re stuck, ask yourself: Can I use the Rule of Three in this moment?

Now go forth and write in threes—because one isn’t enough, two is close, but three? Three is just right.

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Reader Friday-Mickey Mouse or Hannibal Lecter?

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Scary title this morning, yes?  🙂

Just a quick, non-scary question for this Friday morning.

Who is the one fictional character you relate to most? Can be from your own writing, or another author, or even from a movie. And please tell us why…

 

 

Here’s a few more to get your juices flowing…

 

 

 

 

 

(Fun fact: if you do a search on this morning’s question, there are links to websites where you can take a quiz to find out the character you’re most like.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When A Panster Has to Plot

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When A Panster Has to Plot
Terry Odell

red brick wall with jagged edgesMany authors talk about hitting a wall at about the 30K mark, and I’m no exception. At that point, I usually wonder if I’m going to have enough story for a whole book. Since I’ve finished over 30 of them, the answer seems to be yes, but that doesn’t stop the doubts from creeping in.

person in a yellow raft navigating rapidsI hit another wall somewhere in the 60K neighborhood, which is where I am now in the current WIP. “Wall” is probably the wrong term. Raging river is probably a better term, because now, the nagging question becomes whether the book is ever going to end. This is where I need to get into my version of plotting.

Since I didn’t follow an outline, or much of a roadmap beyond, “They’re going from A to Z and know a few stops along the way, but they haven’t decided exactly which route to follow.” I’ve tried the plotting thing, and 3 chapters is as far into the future as I can go. Maybe if I’d taken writing courses instead of just seeing if I could write a book, I’d be more into plotting and hitting all the plot points at the right spot in the book, but I didn’t.

I’m not recommending my writing process, but it works for me. I have no problems with going back and adding things in earlier chapters because I discovered the one I’m working on needs a piece of information. Or foreshadowing. Or, the opposite. Sometimes I find that I’ve included something that is better cut. Too much mundane conversation. Or just plain too much mundane.

Doesn’t that make for a lot of extra work? I say no. Work yes, extra, no. My first draft can be compared to someone else writing a detailed outline, or a list of scenes, or whatever they need so they can write the book. Jeffrey Deaver spends 8 months doing this. I’ve finished my draft in less time than that.

One thing I strive for is making my chapters end so the reader wants to turn the page. Often, end up sticking something in from out of the blue. A phone call. A character showing who creates a problem for the protagonist. A question. I confess that sometimes these are questions I don’t know the answer to, or a character who shows up out of nowhere. Sometimes my subconscious is laying groundwork. Other times, nothing comes of it and I have to decide whether it’s worth keeping.

Then, because the current WIP is a romantic suspense, I have certain conventions—reader expectations, if you will—that need to be followed. In this case, it’s alternating POV characters. Heroine in one chapter, hero in the next. If both characters are in the scene, then one chapter will flow into the next, and whatever that page-turning (I hope) ending was, will lead to answering the question, or dealing with the problem.

Sometimes, as seems to be happening a lot with this book, my characters aren’t both in the chapter. In that case, that page-turning question won’t be addressed until the characters get together again, or until the reader gets through the alternate POV chapter.

Here, the author hopes that both characters are dealing with whatever I’ve thrown at them and that the reader is sticking with both hero and heroine. Not always easy, but nobody said this gig was a walk in the park. Fun, yes. Easy, not always.

So, here I am, at about 65K, thinking about getting to “the end.” The journey has to be satisfying, which means I can’t rush things, although there are days where it’s tempting. “The bad guy was caught and they decided to try the relationship thing.” Nope, that’s not fair to the reader.

Lined paper with red writingAt this stage of the process, I look at my “notes” file to see if I had any ideas that need adding, fleshing out, or cutting. I also get out my handy legal tablet and make handwritten, almost legible notes of threads that I have to deal with. That means for the last 10-20 thousand words of the book, I’m plotting.

Going back and laying groundwork for things that show up later is relatively easy, operative word being relatively. I write tight, so fitting in the new bits means finding the right place, and then getting out the Spackle so the transitions are smooth. What’s harder is discovering that the character you introduced in Chapter 15 to add conflict to the heroine’s arc, ends up being a good guy and where’s the conflict in that? Cutting that thread means making sure any references to that character are gone. Completely gone. Which can end up messing with chapter lengths, which can end up in a lot of rewriting so there aren’t gaping holes. A lot more Spackle is needed for these types of edits.

And then, because my characters don’t have any official authority, how far do I let them go before they do the sensible thing and let the experts take over? Will it make my “ordinary people” heroes less heroic if they give the cops the evidence they’ve found? There’s a limit as to how much disbelief I think my readers are willing to suspend.

manuscript text laid out in 2 columnsEventually, everything gets addressed. At that point, I’m ready to print the whole thing using my “fool the eye” technique, and see how it holds together.

 

 

 

 

All right, TKZers. I’m now officially on deadline, so this is all for today. Anyone want to offer their process, suggestions, or general comments? The floor is yours.

The Power of a Rant – Guest post by Leslie Budewitz

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Leslie Budewitz wins 2013 Agatha for Best First Novel

 

It’s always a pleasure when my good friend and Agatha-winning author Leslie Budewitz visits TKZ for a guest post. Today, let’s welcome Leslie with her “rant” about “The Power of a Rant.” 

The Power of a Rant, or How Letting My Main Character Cut Loose Powered a Winning First Novel

by Leslie Budewitz

I love me a good rant. In April 2012, I attended Don Maass’s Breakout Novel Workshop in Hood River, OR, a week that changed my writing life. I had a three book contract with Berkley for the Food Lovers’ Village series. The first manuscript was due August 1. I went to the workshop with more than half a first draft, and felt pretty good.

I came home and started over. Death al Dente won the 2013 Agatha Award for Best First Novel.

What changed? I didn’t change the plot. I do outline, and I had created character sheets where I focused on learning what my characters most wanted and what they would do to get it. I knew where the story was going.

But my writing was too passive. Not bold enough. Not enough tension. My main character didn’t drive the story. Don suggested I let Erin go on a rant. Now, he meant that as a character discovery exercise, not as a way to open the story, but that’s what I did with it.

I told this story a few weeks ago at the Writers’ Rodeo in Helena, Montana, and a writer in attendance asked if I could read the original opening—good enough to sell the proposal—and the version I submitted. We didn’t have time then, so I promised to write a blog post comparing the openings. Debbie Burke was presenting at the same conference—here’s her roundup—and kindly offered me a guest spot.

In Death al Dente, a classic cozy mystery, Erin Murphy’s mother, Francesca, has asked her to come home and take over the Merc, the shop she’s been running in the family’s century-old grocery in the heart of the village of Jewel Bay, Montana. Erin, now 32, left home for college months after her father was killed a hit-and-run that has never been solved. She’s had a successful career as a buyer for SavCo, my fictional warehouse grocery chain headquartered in Seattle. Coming home wasn’t in her plans, but when your mother asks, what can you do?

The difference between the two drafts is mainly in attitude and micro-tension. Our main character has a problem, and you know she’s going to find a way to solve it. You know we are going to have a good, old-fashioned mother-daughter tussle in the form of conflict over a family business—two classic situations—and it’s going to matter to solving the murder, which hasn’t occurred yet. All that from the rant on the first two pages.

In the first draft, Francesca—aka Fresca—is more interesting than Erin, the main character. Fresca drives the scene. As revised, Erin takes center stage, and we know we’ll be following a strong, capable woman as she reshapes a struggling business, and solves a crime.

Rants are also a good way to give dialogue subtext, that is, to get at what the characters are saying underneath the words they’re using. In this scene between Erin and her mother, you’ll detect issues of trust, fear of change, and control over family business.

Rants can also be a great way to explore what’s actually driving a character, whether it’s your protagonist or a secondary character. In my standalone suspense novel, Blind Faith (Crooked Lane, 2022, written as Alicia Beckman), I let my main character, a lawyer facing a crisis of conscience, go on a rant about justice. Little of it made the page, but the process helped me get at the heart of her internal conflict and figure out what she would do in response to injustice.

If you are struggling with your main character, if she’s not quite coming alive for you, give her a rant. It may not make the final edit—but it will help you find out who she is, and find her voice.

Death al Dente, draft one:

CHAPTER ONE

“Oh, smell this Genovese basil, darling.” My mother waved a bouquet of fresh herbs about three inches in front of my nose. “Isn’t it heavenly?” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, an expression that could only be called rapture on her face. Maybe I’d finally discovered her secret for looking youthful at sixty-one.

“You’re making me hungry, Mom.”

“Then eat.” She waved the basil again and the sweet-green scent nearly made me swoon. “Slice up some of those Early Girls from Rainbow Lake Gardens, with that mozzarella from the new Creamery.”

Caprese salad. My favorite. “Mom, there’s too much to do before the Festa opens tonight. We haven’t even started decorating.” The Merc, formally known as The Glacier Mercantile, shared a courtyard with Red’s Bar, the setting for tonight’s kick-off dinner for the First Annual Jewel Bay Festa di Pasta. But Old Ned Redaway–aka Red–didn’t want us to “doll the place up,” as he put it, until his Friday burgers-and-beer lunch crowd had cleared the door. Which would be soon. Which meant I couldn’t give in to my mother’s tempting suggestions, no matter how much my tummy gurgled at the thought.

“Mangia, mangia. All work and no food makes a girl dull and scrawny.”

“Ha.” I’d inherited my late father’s “black Irish” fair skin and dark hair along with enough of my mother’s good genes to avoid most weight problems. But scrawny I would never be, not as the manager of a market specializing in local artisan foods and the daughter of a woman who sold handmade pasta and sauces for a living.

“I’ll wash these up and find a platter and that herbed olive oil,” she said. “You slice a few for each of us.”

“Ah, the truth comes out,” I said, and stepped outside the front door to the produce cart. A cattail reed basket held the season’s first tomatoes–greenhouse, necessarily, in mid June in northwest Montana, but ripe and juicy nonetheless. I plucked two and headed back in. “You want me to eat so you can eat.”

“No good Italian girl ever eats alone,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the demonstration kitchen at the back of the shop.

Ouch. Okay, I was only half-Italian, but I’d spent too many nights eating alone for far too long. Still did on occasion, though now by choice.

She stopped and turned, gripping the peppery-sweet basil. “What I should have said, Erin, darling, is that when you eat good food, grown and prepared with love, you’re never alone, even if no one else is at the table with you.”

“Nice recovery, Mom.” I grinned.

In the kitchen, I drew out one of the locally-made hardwood cutting boards we sold, honed a chef’s knife on a steel, and started slicing. Working together, we stacked layers into a caprese antipasto appetizer: a thick slice of firm tomato topped with a slab of fresh mozzarella and a large basil leaf, drizzled with a fruity olive oil. Too impatient to grab a plate and fork, I picked one up and savored the smells before taking the first bite, my other hand cupped to catch any stray juices. “Mmm. The taste of summer.”

My mother was too preoccupied with eating to bother chiding me for talking with my mouth full.

Death al Dente, as published

CHAPTER ONE

“Who put these huckleberry chocolates on the front counter?” I grabbed the stack of purple boxes crammed with gooey huckleberry-filled chocolate wannabes swathed in purple foil and shoved them onto an open shelf on the side wall, next to the herbal snoose.

“I did, honey,” my mother said. “Our customers love them.”

“Our customers,” I said, “buy one for seventy-five cents and walk around the store, so preoccupied with unwrapping it and indulging their sweet tooth that they can’t fathom buying Montana-made goat cheese, or buffalo jerky, or your pastas and sauces. Then they grab a napkin that costs us five cents apiece to wipe the drool off their fingers, and half of them drop it on the floor. There goes our profit.”

My mother scowled. “Erin, what on earth has gotten into you? Why do you hate huckleberry chocolates?”

“I don’t hate huckleberry chocolates. I love huckleberry chocolates. But we can’t rebuild this business on fake food and chemical sugar.”

She picked up the boxes I’d just moved and carried them back to the cash register. “We have always had huckleberry chocolates right here, where the customers can see them.”

“Mom, you hired me to run the place, remember? To shake things up.”

“Some things shouldn’t be changed.”

“Mom, we agreed. The Merc will die if it’s just another knickknacky gift shop. But an artisan market for local and regional foods—”

“Those are local. They’re made five miles from here, by a woman you’ve known half your life.”

“With high-fructose corn syrup and milk chocolate that tastes like rancid Hershey’s. If we find a vendor using fresh berries, real sugar, and high-quality fair trade dark chocolate, sixty percent cocoa solids or better, I will build the Great Pyramid of huckleberry chocolates right here.” I jabbed at a spot on the oak floor, ten feet inside the Merc’s front door, little changed in the hundred years since my grandfather Murphy built the place and opened the town’s first grocery. “I will worship at her kitchen stove. I will put an ad in the paper and a post on Facebook offering a free huckleberry truffle to everyone who walks in that door. And if they aren’t wrapped in purple paper, I will even consider raising the price split.”

My mother stared as though she didn’t recognize me. Not for the first time since I’d returned to Jewel Bay, Montana, the hometown I couldn’t wait to leave after high school, fourteen years ago, to take over her struggling business so she could focus on building her own product line.

And not, I was sure, the last.

(Excerpt from Death al Dente, published by Berkley Prime Crime 2013, copyright Leslie Ann Budewitz)

Does Erin ever find the perfect huckleberry chocolate? I’ll let you read the book to find out. And don’t fret over that luscious business about basil. It finds its rightful place later in the scene. Because a Caprese salad made with sun-ripened tomatoes, creamy mozzarella, and basil so fresh it’s practically still growing is—like an honest rant—too good to waste.

***

Thanks, Leslie, for a terrific before-and-after comparison with excellent lessons from a winning first chapter!

***

Leslie Budewitz tells stories about women’s lives, seasoned with friendship, food, a dash of history, and a heaping spoonful of mystery. She writes the Spice Shop mysteries set in Seattle’s Pike Place Market and the Food Lovers’ Village mysteries set in a fictional version of Bigfork, Montana, where she lives. Her latest books are Lavender Lies Bleeding, the ninth Spice Shop mystery, and All God’s Sparrows and Other Stories: A Stagecoach Mary Fields Collection, historical short fiction set in Montana. As Alicia Beckman, she writes moody suspense set in Montana. She is a former president of Sisters in Crime.

Find her books in print, ebook, and audio across the US and Canada, wherever you shop for books.

Revisited: How Did I Get Here?

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Kay DiBianca is away from TKZ for a bit longer, so today I am sharing her post on the journey of being a novelist.

How Did I Get Here?

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When I sat down at my desk a few days ago, the room suddenly turned dark, and there was a loud buzzing sound. I realized I had entered a wormhole, and I was being transported back in time to a day several years ago.

* * *

I was running on a dirt trail in a park near my home and I was listening to an audiobook on my iPod Shuffle. The book was one of the Rabbi Small mysteries by Harry Kemelman, and I was enjoying the story. As I jogged by a fence and around a turn, a thought lit a fire in my brain. I could write a mystery as good as the one I was listening to! It would be fun to write a novel just to see what it would be like. I finished my run, returned home, showered and dressed. Then I sat down in a recliner in our living room with my computer on my lap and began to type.

* * *

The wormhole suddenly closed, and I was back at my desk, a relatively new, six-foot-long testimony to my dedication to this writing journey. Desk-reorg day is later in the week, so the desk is messy, piled with papers and post-it notes – reminders of upcoming events and to-dos I shouldn’t ignore.

Two whiteboards sit on the back of the desk, leaning against the wall with lists of books to read and others I’ve read and need to review. A map of the Hero’s Journey is magnetically tacked to one of the whiteboards along with a few inspirational sayings. Reminders to Make Haste Slowly, Be Intentional, Make It Count.

My writing calendar is just inside the middle drawer of the desk. A glance at the page tells me about my obligations this month for blog posts, book promotions, meetings, and everything else that’s writing-related.

The Windows 10 laptop in front of me on the desk houses dozens of directories containing information from branding to short stories, from newsletters to marketing graphs.  This is where I handle email, write articles, post to social media, create jpgs and pngs to market books and share thoughts on writing.

A second laptop, a Mac, sits on the desk’s pullout shelf to my left. It’s owned by the publishing company my husband and I formed in order to publish our own works. I use it to format and publish the final copies.

A third laptop, another Mac, stays on the bar in the kitchen where I can glance over an occasional news story while I eat breakfast. Scrivener lives on that Mac, and it accompanies me to my office recliner, along with a glass of sparkling water when I sit down to spend serious time on my WIP.

A list of writing goals is taped to the back of my office door so I see it every time I close the door to begin work.

Bookshelves against the wall next to my recliner are filled with books on the craft of writing, constant reminders of how much I still have to learn. The bottom shelf contains copies of my three published novels as well as my husband’s recently published debut novel. Three-ring binders contain pages of notes on each of my books as well as several works-in-progress.

Other bookshelves in my office and throughout the house contain favorite tomes. (I really should spend some time reorganizing so I don’t have to go on safari just to find what I’m looking for.)

* * *

How did I get here? I was going to write just one novel. It was going to be fun, an act of exploration, like climbing a mountain. Do it once for the experience.

But then I discovered the craft and the joy of writing.

So TKZers: When did you decide to write that first novel? How did you get to the present moment? Were you surprised by the journey? Are you going to stay the course?

Reader Friday-Show, Don’t Tell…Sort of

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Good Friday morning, Killzoners! The topic under consideration today is Show Don’t Tell…with a twist!

As writers, we do wax eloquently about this subject, don’t we? But, how about as readers?

Hmm…why, whatever do I mean?

Here’s the deal. Today we, as readers, are tasked with sharing our favorite genre to read. But there’s one rule:

Do not, under any circumstances, name the genre. You must describe it without naming it.

Get it? Show, don’t tell!

And then, the rest of us will try to guess your favorite reading genre. Sound fun?

Here’s mine:

Picture me standing at my stove stirring a pot of savory somethings. Each ingredient I drop in adds flavor and a pinch of surprise.

But wait! As I stir, I see a face float to the surface. Tom Cruise. Oooh!

And what is that he’s holding? A cell phone, with a message staring at him. His glance darts upward as he hears the roar of a helicopter, three gunmen hanging out the doors with automatic weapons trained on him. With the speed of a Tom Cruise move he disappears from view, helicopter hot on his tail.

Are you getting the picture? So…what do you think? What’s my favorite genre to read?

And thanks for playing What’s My Favorite Reading Genre?

 

 

 

The Imposter Nurse

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By Elaine Viets

Florida is the land of scams. Some are cruel and some are bold, like the scammers who made fake phone calls that seemed to be from the Lee County Sheriff’s Office. The crooks told people they had outstanding warrants or subpoenas and were facing criminal charges. To avoid arrest, the victims had to buy gift cards and read the gift card numbers to the scammers.

But one scam makes me sick.

The imposter nurse.

These are people pretending to be nurses. Like the Florida scammer who helped treat more than 4,400 patients. This fake nurse gave the hospital a license number, which matched a registered nurse with the same first name but a different last name. The scam nurse claimed she’d recently married and promised to give the hospital a copy of her marriage license. She slid by with that excuse until she was offered a promotion. The hospital did more checking and found out the woman didn’t have a valid license – for marriage or nursing. The sham nurse was fired, and then arrested. She faces a slew of felony charges.

I couldn’t resist using an imposter nurse in Beach Blonde Betrayal, my new Florida Beach mystery. In this novel, a fake nurse’s bumbling kills an innocent man.

         Beach Blonde Betrayal starts with a heroic rescue. A park employee saves the cat of a rich South Florida woman. The stubborn feline nearly became gator food until the man, armed only with a flimsy litter pick up tool, saves the cat from the jaws of an alligator. The daring rescue was witnessed by Norah McCarthy, the Florida woman who own the Florodora apartments, built in 1923 by her grandmother, a former showgirl.

The Florodora is a four-story white stucco creation with a red barrel-tile roof, built in the Spanish Colonial style that suits the subtropical climate.  Norah’s grandmother sang and danced in the 1920 Broadway musical, Florodora. Grandma met Johnny Harriman, and at 16 she eloped with the millionaire. She loved Johnny until the day he died.

Which was a year later.

Handsome, happy-go-lucky Johnny died in an accident involving a champagne bottle and a chandelier, leaving Norah’s Grandma a rich widow. She moved to Peerless Point and built the Florodora on a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the Intracoastal Waterway.

Grandma’s career as a showgirl was considered shocking, even though her costume was stunningly modest. She wore a ruffled Edwardian walking costume with long gloves, a picture hat, and a parasol. Never mind that the only bare skin was her face. She was on the stage, and that was so wicked her parents disowned her.

Grandma was scandalous enough to be an early Florida Woman. She rented to benign versions of the breed, and Norah honored that tradition.

The book also has plenty of Florida Men and Women. You’ve seen the headlines:

“Florida Man Broke into Random House, Ran Bath, Cooked Dinner to Avoid Going Home to Angry Wife.” He was a wimp compared to the Florida Woman who shoplifted “Seven Lobsters Down Her Pants.”

And here’s my personal favorite:  “Naked Florida Man Tries to Force His Way Into Home Thru Doggie Door.”

Then there was the Florida Man who claimed people were “eating his brains.” He hijacked an SUV and tore across a golf course, fishtailing on the fairway, plowing tire tracks into the sod, and jumping bunkers, spraying sand everywhere.

The chase ended in the most Florida way possible. The man was captured after he slammed his stolen vehicle into a nursing home. No one was hurt, though the golf course’s turf was badly torn up.

The Florodora residents are all a little, well, different. They include an artist, a glamorous ex-model who grows weed, a Shakespearian actor, a writer and an ex-cop in witness protection. One Florodora  resident finds a young woman strangled on the beach. She is the first of several victims, and life comes to a standstill in the beach town of Peerless Point. Worse, one of the Florodora residents is accused of murder. Norah is sure he’s innocent, and sets out to save him.

But back to those imposter nurses. That’s just Florida, right? They have nothing to do with the saner parts of the country.

Except many imposter nurses have sham sheepskins, issued in South Florida.

Turns out the feds shut down three bogus South Florida nursing schools that were selling diplomas and transcripts. The schools issued more than 7,600 fake nursing diplomas.

Seven thousand six hundred nurses around the country with fake credentials.

Nurses installing IV lines, dispensing medication, and changing dressings.

Think about it.

Or maybe not.

 

Beach Blonde Betrayal debuted Tuesday. Buy your copy here:

https://tinyurl.com/3pk7w3tw

 

Amateur Sleuth Amateur Hour

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By PJ Parrish

I have to vent. I hope you all don’t mind. Maybe this has happened to you.

You crack open a new book. It has stellar reviews. It has been nominated for a couple awards. The author isn’t an established bestseller but has some good bonafides. It has a jazzy cover and great buzz. A good and trusted friend recommended it.

It starts out great. A killer opening line. Snappy dialogue, a likeable flawed protag, great pacing. It’s an amateur sleuth, which is not my favorite cuppa, but I was willing to go for a ride.

Then…

Around page 50, it stalled in mid-air. I gave it another 25 pages, thinking maybe it could glide into to a good landing. Nope. It got worse. I gave up. I was in bed, reading, and threw it across the room, scaring my dog. I think I am most angry at the author for that, waking my chihuahua out of his deep-dog sleep.

What happened? How did a story with such promise fail? I’ve given this a lot of thought because often we as readers focus on what we enjoy about a book, why it entertained us or moved us emotionally, why we remember the characters long after we’ve finished the last chapter. (Gus McCrae lived in my head long after I closed Lonesome Dove). And as writers — and we can’t help ourselves here — we also tend to analyze why a book doesn’t work.

This book, as I said, was well written. But it failed, I finally realized, because the writer was dealing with an amateur sleuth who lacked all the basic, vital elements needed to make the plot succeed. Now, I’m not here today to diss amateur sleuths. I don’t write cozies or amateur sleuths. All of my books, save one, have dealt with private eyes or cops. My stand alone She’s Not There featured a skip tracer but he was a failed private investigator.

My lone amateur protag was my other stand alone, The Killing Song. The protagonist, Matt Owens, is a seasoned investigative reporter who tries to unravel the gruesome murder of his kid sister. I learned a lot about writing an amateur sleuth when dealing with him. It was, in many ways, the hardest book I wrote. That book gave me great respect for those of you who attempt to write an amateur sleuth mystery or thriller. Why? Mainly, because you can’t rely on the usual police procedural process and the oft threadbare tropes.

Here is what I learned about amateur sleuths. Maybe it can help some of you who might be struggling with this.

1. Give them a relevant job or hobby. Unlike a cop or PI, an amateur can’t just stumble upon bodies without a logical reason. You have to ground them in a profession or avocation that grants them access and freedom of movement within the world you’re building. They have to talk to towns people and uncover secrets without raising suspicion. Classic examples — hair salon owner, baker, bed and breakfast owner. Or as Michael Connelly did so splendidly in The Poet, a newspaper reporter.

2. Give them a good reason. Mere curiosity isn’t a strong enough motivation. Without a badge or professonal training, the amateur has to have some sort of invested stakes. In my case, Matt Owens is trying to find his sister’s killer. Maybe your sleuth is a primary suspect and must solve the crime to clear themselves. Maybe someone close to them is wrongly accused. There has to be credible motivation or you’re just being cutesy. Oh, look…the local vicar figured out who killed old Maud! Praise the lord and pour the G&Ts!

3. Give them credible secondary skills. Without law enforcement training, an amateur can look just silly. You have to give them something extra — a grasp of human nature or a background in psychology. The owner of a nursery might know about poisonous plants. Our own Elaine Viets wrote a popular Dead End Job series and got great mileage for her protag Helen Hawthorne, on the run for an ex while she grinds out a living in lousy jobs. (Helen is the main reason I over-tip hotel maids and never use the coffee pots.)

4. Give them a supporting cast. This one’s important because an amateur needs some access to law enforcement, forensics folks, and other crime specialists to be credible. The amateur cannot operate in a vacuum. Maybe your protag has a business partner, or is close friends with the local police chief. And don’t forget to give your hero a sidekick or foil whose prime role in the story is a sounding board for the amateur’s investigations and plain old figuring out stuff.

Back to my character Matt Owens. Yes, he was grounded in the basic skills of any investigative reporter. But I found it wasn’t enough. His deep grief and guilt over his sister’s gruesome murder was blinding him emotionally. Plus early in the story, he realizes the killer might be in France. In my ardor to set a story in Paris, I had painted myself into a real corner. (I am a rabid pantser). He was truly a poisson out of water. So I had him pair up with a biracial Parisienne police woman, who, subject to chauvinsim and racism within her department, has her own demons to tame. Their friction — and then prickly friendship — made for what I consider one of my best stories.

So…back to the book that I threw across the room. Where did it go wrong?

  • First, the main character’s motivation is never well defined and when the reason for her wanting to snoop is finally revealed, it comes so late in the book that it makes the protag seem dumb as a bag of rocks. Hello, Marty McFly!
  • Second, the protag has no acess to anyone in police work, and in fact she is fatally antagonistic toward law enforcement, especially those leading the murder investigation. She is isolated by her own stubborness and social anxiety.
  • Third, she’s unemployed, whiny and a little too concerned about finding a man to bed and to right her life ship.
  • Fourth, she is operating in a near emotional vacuum. When she does finally trust a friend to help her solve the murder, the friend comes across as the more vivid character, who gets all the great lines and insights.

Normally I feel bad when I don’t finish a book. But not this time. Life is short, my bookshelf is full and I have miles to go before I sleep. So does my dog.

Postscript. Thanks for letting me vent. I hope those of you who write amateur sleuths will weigh in.

 

 

The Declaration of Independence: A Master Class in Writing

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The Declaration of Independence.

Happy 250th Birthday, America!

Today we celebrate a country that was born from one of the most brilliantly crafted pieces of writing in human history. Thomas Jefferson wrote a document that changed the world. Just like screenwriters and novelists, he did it with structure, pacing, and an unforgettable ending.

Jefferson Built a Case

The Declaration does not open with the conclusion. Jefferson does not lead with “We’re breaking up with Britain.” He builds to it.

He opens with a statement of universal principles. All men are created equal. People have rights. Governments exist to protect those rights. When they don’t, the people can change them.

Then he presents the evidence. Twenty-seven specific grievances against King George. A relentless accumulation of wrongs. Taxation without representation. Soldiers quartered in private homes. Courts rigged against colonists. Each charge adds weight to the next.

Jefferson never tells you King George is evil. By the time Jefferson is finished, George III is not just a bad king; he is a tyrant without mercy.

The 27 Grievances: How to Build a Villain Through Accumulation

The structure of the grievances section is a masterclass in escalation, tension, and pacing.

Jefferson does not open with the worst charges. He starts with the administrative, the political, the procedural. The King has refused to sign laws. The King has dissolved legislatures. The King has obstructed justice. These are serious, but they are the acts of a bad bureaucrat, not necessarily a monster.

Then the charges begin to darken.

The King has sent swarms of officers to harass the people. He has kept standing armies among them in peacetime without consent. He has made the military superior to civilian authority. We are moving from political obstruction into something that feels more like occupation.

Then it gets worse.

He has waged war against his own people. He has plundered their seas and burned their towns. By the time you reach the final grievances, the King is not a distant bureaucrat making bad decisions. He is a warlord burning down the homes of his own subjects.

The Declaration is a 1,320-word novel where the villain is King George and the twist ending is America.

Powerful, Unforgettable Ending

The Declaration builds to a clear, decisive conclusion. The colonies are free and independent states. The political bands are dissolved. And the signers pledge their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

The Declaration ends with one of the most extraordinary sentences in history.

“We mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”

By signing this document, the men of the Continental Congresst were committing treason against the most powerful empire on earth. The penalty was death.

It is one of the most powerful endings in the history of the written word.

Remember

Two hundred and fifty years ago a writer sat down and crafted a document that changed history. The Founding Fathers understood that the right words, in the right order, with the right structure, could move people to action. Stories matter. Words are powerful!

Happy Independence Day. Now go write something that changes someone’s world.

 

Patriotic Fun

School House Rock on The Declaration of Independence

National Treasure (2004, Disney+) – a rag tag trio of history treasure hunters race an evil organization to find the treasure to follow the secret map on the back of the Declaration of Independence.

1776 (1972, Tubi or for rent on Prime Video) – a witty musical about the Founding Fathers.

Revolutionary Dramas

Movies:

A Great Awakening (2026, Prime Video) An unlikely friendship between fiery preacher George Whitefield and skeptic Benjamin Franklin sparks a spiritual revival that awakens the ideals of liberty and ignites the American Revolution.

The Patriot (2000) A family’s experience during the Revolutionary War when a father and the oldest son join the fight.

TV Series:

The American Revolution (2025, PBS) Ken Burns documentary about the American Revolution.

John Adams (2008, HBO+)  Paul Giamatti as John Adams with Laura Linney as Abigail. It covers the lead up to independence, the war, and its aftermath.

Turn: Washington’s Spies (2014-2017, AMC+), a gripping spy thriller following the Culpeper ring, George Washington’s spy network.

The Crossing (2000) Prime Video – The Story of the Washington leading the troops across the Delaware River and the Battle of Trenton.

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