Category Archives: Writing

Writers’ Longitude

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“at sea” – an idiom meaning “confused” or “lost”

* * *

I recently read a book entitled Longitude by Dava Sobel. It’s the story of an invention that first made it possible for sailors to pinpoint their location at sea. According to Sobel,

“Lines of latitude and longitude began crisscrossing our worldview in ancient times, at least three centuries before the birth of Christ. By A.D. 150, the cartographer and astronomer Ptolemy had plotted them on the twenty-seven maps of his first world atlas.”

Knowing one’s position on the face of the earth is just a matter of knowing the latitude and longitude. . (You’ll remember latitude are the horizontal lines around the earth, all parallel to the equator. Longitudinal lines (meridians) are lines drawn from the North Pole to the South Pole.)

During the Age of Exploration, roughly from the 15th to the 18th centuries, one of the major seafaring problems was the inability to establish the ship’s position on the high seas. Latitude was fairly simple to determine by the height of the sun as it progressed across the sky or by the position of certain stars, but there’s no similar way to determine longitude. Once a ship sailed out of the sight of land, it had no reference point for which to understand its east/west position.

Since longitude is a measure of time, not distance, an easy way to determine it is to compare the time of day on board ship with the time at the home port from which the ship sailed. This can be accomplished by setting a clock to the home port time before sailing and keeping that clock on the ship. The actual time aboard the ship is determined by the position of the sun and compared to the clock. Each hour of difference corresponds to fifteen degrees of longitude. Sounds easy, right? Unfortunately, there were no clocks in existence during the early days of the great explorers that would keep accurate time on board a ship. The movement of the ship and the changes in temperature, pressure, and humidity affected the clocks’ mechanisms, and the results were unreliable.

Some of the best minds of that era, including the great Sir Isaac Newton, had tried to find an astronomical solution to the problem, but the quest seemed out of reach. (Pun intended.)

It was such a big problem that in 1714 the British Parliament passed the Longitude Act which offered a lucrative prize for the first person who could deliver a practical means of determining longitude at sea.

Into this environment stepped John Harrison, a carpenter and self-taught clock maker, whose skill and determination were just the attributes needed. Harrison solved problem after problem in his dogged persistence, and finally in 1736, his first clock, unimaginatively named the H-1, sailed aboard the HMS Centurion to Lisbon and returned aboard the HMS Orford. The clock performed admirably, and the Longitude commissioners asked Harrison to continue his work.

Over the course of the next twenty-five years or so, John Harrison created a total of three more clocks. The fourth one (you can guess the name: H-4) was actually a watch, and it was the H-4 that sailed to Jamaica in 1765 and performed within the limits required by the Longitude Board for the prize. John Harrison had solved one of mankind’s thorniest problems, and he likely saved the lives of many sailors in the process.

John Harrison is revered in England for his work. All four of his sea-faring clocks reside in the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, England. In 1884, the Prime Meridian (longitude 0°) was defined as the longitudinal line that runs through the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. Hence, our definition of Greenwich Mean Time (GMT) from which all other time zones are offset. If you visit the Royal Observatory, you can have your picture taken astride the Prime Meridian, one foot in each hemisphere.

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As I was reading about the longitude problem, I couldn’t help but notice the similarity to writing. PJ Parrish quoted Walter Mosley in her Kill Zone Blog post last week:

Writing a novel is like taking a journey by boat. You have to continuously set yourself on course. If you get distracted or allow yourself to drift, you will never make it to the destination.

So how do we as authors keep ourselves on course? It’s easy to feel like you’re “at sea” when you’re in the second act muddle, not sure how to get to your destination, or even exactly where your destination lies. But there are experts who can help us find our writing longitude. I have a stack of craft books I love to refer to. Here are a few:

  • Plot and Structure by James Scott Bell
  • Self-editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King
  • Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
  • Fire Up Your Fiction by Jodie Renner
  • Writing Novels That Sell by Jack M. Bickham
  • Techniques of the Selling Writer by Dwight V. Swain
  • On Writing by Stephen King

 * * *

So TKZers: What resources do you use to chart your course across the great ocean of writing a novel?

 

And speaking of time … 

The Watch Mysteries is a box set of three complete novels in which clocks, watches, and time play an important role.

 

 

 

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Can You Spot The Errors?

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

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I’ve had to take care of some life matters this week, so I’m going to re-post a little “test” I once posted. Time to play again!

Below is a bit of writing I made up based on errors I see all the time in manuscripts and published (even traditionally!) books. Heck, I’ve been guilty at one time or another, especially in my early years. Some of these are technically not “errors,” as they may be grammatically correct. But they’re what I call “little writing speed bumps.” They disturb the reader’s fictive dream, usually in a subconscious way. The more bumps, the less enjoyable the reading experience.

Learn to spot them in your own writing, however, and you can smooth out the road.

So here we go. Read the following and jot down all the speed bumps you can find. Don’t look ahead to the answer sheet yet. You’re on the honor system!

John Harper gazed out the window at his Christmas present.

He gazed at a beautiful boat.

“How do you like it?” his wife said. Carol was dressed in a red sweater.

Carol luxuriated in the softness of the sweater. Her smile was soft and warm.

John turned from the window and embraced his wife.

“I can see you do,” Carol laughed.

Kissing Carol full on the mouth, John whispered, “I like you even more.”

Carol Harper was forty-two. A graduate of Bryn Mawr, she had studied folklore and mythology, before finally deciding to major in business. Her first job out of college was with an advertising firm in New York.

“I like you too,” Carol said lovingly.

“I like you so much,” John repeated, “that I want to take you out to a nice dinner tonight.”

“A nice dinner, John?” Carol expostulated. “Tonight?”

“Yes,” John winked. “Tonight.”

How’d you do, class? Now, take this quiz home to your parents and return it with a note saying they’ve seen it …

… or not. Below is the excerpt with my answers provided. Some of them have footnotes that you can read below the excerpt. Have a look, then open up a discussion in the comments.

John Harper gazed out the window at his Christmas present.

He gazed [ECHO. SEE NOTE 1, BELOW] at a beautiful boat.

“How do you like it?” his wife said. Carol was dressed in a red sweater. [POV PROBLEM. WE’RE IN JOHN’S HEAD. HOW CAN HE SEE HIS WIFE’S OUTFIT IF HE’S LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW?]

Carol luxuriated [POV SWITCH TO CAROL] in the softness of the sweater. Her smile was soft [ECHO] and warm. [POV PROBLEM. WHO SEES THIS? NOT HER. SHE’S NOT LOOKING IN A MIRROR, AND NOT JOHN, WHO IS LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW]

John turned from the window and embraced his wife.

“I can see you do,” [HOW? HE’S EMBRACING HER] Carol laughed [YOU DON’T LAUGH DIALOGUE. SEE NOTE 2]

Kissing Carol full on the mouth, John whispered [HOW CAN JOHN WHISPER ANYTHING IF HE’S FULL ON THE MOUTH? SEE NOTE 3], “I like you even more.”

Carol Harper was forty-two. [POV SWITCH. THIS IS AN OMNISCIENT VIEW]. A graduate of Bryn Mawr, she had studied folklore and mythology, [MISPLACED COMMA] before finally deciding to major in business. Her first job out of college was with an advertising firm in New York. [ALL THIS IS INFO DUMP AND EXPOSITION. IT CAN WAIT!]

“I like you too,” Carol said lovingly. [ADVERB IS unnecessary. SEE NOTE 4]

“I like you so much [ECHO IN DIALOGUE],” John repeated [REDUNDANT], “that I want to take you out to a nice dinner tonight.”

“A nice dinner, John?” [UNNECESSARY USE OF NAME. SEE NOTE 5] Carol expostulated [I HOPE I DON’T HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS. BUT SEE NOTE 2 AGAIN]. “Tonight?”

“Yes, [UNNECCESARY FILLER. SEE NOTE 6]” John winked [DIALOGUE DOESN’T WINK!]. “Tonight.” [ECHO]

[FINAL AND MOST IMPORTANT COMMENT: NO CONFLICT OR TENSION ANYWHERE! SEE NOTE 7]

NOTES:

  1. An echo is when a descriptive word (an adjective or verb) is used more than once in close proximity. Here, gazed is used in back-to-back sentences. It’s not “wrong” to do this, but it’s a bump in the reader’s mind.
  1. For attributions in dialogue, use said as your default. Its job is to clue the reader in on who is speaking and nothing more. It’s virtually invisible. If you are tempted to use another word to indicate a manner of speaking, look to the context and seek to make things clear. For example: Sgt. Trask clenched his teeth. “Fall in!” he growled. We know he growled from the context and the exclamation point. We know he is speaking, too. So: Sgt. Trask clenched his teeth. “Fall in!” is enough.
  1. This kind of sentence construction is called a participle phrase. It begins with a word ending in –ing. What you have to watch out for are two actions that defy the laws of physics. In other words, can the two actions take place at the same time? Full-on kissing and whispering cannot (unless you speak fluent French. Ahem). But these two actions can coexist: Getting out of his car, John heard a woman scream. While some writing instructors hold that you should never use a participle phrase. I think they’re just fine if they a) pass the coexistence test; and b) are used sparingly.
  1. Adverbs propping up dialogue attributions are almost always unnecessary. If it’s not clear how something is being said from the dialogue itself, or the action surrounding it, see if you can make it clear. The occasional adverb is fine, but only if you truly need it.
  1. Avoid having characters tell each other things they both already know. The other character’s name is one of these. Unless, of course, the character is trying to be adamant, as in, “John, how many times do I have to tell you not to kidnap the neighbors!” But when you try to slip in exposition in dialogue, it can sound truly phony if it’s information both characters already possess: “Oh hello Arthur, my family doctor from Baltimore. Please come in.”
  1. One of the best ways to make dialogue crisp is to cut needless filler words. Look for these at the start of dialogue, especially Yes, No, and Well. The sentence in the piece would have been much better this way: John winked. “Tonight.” (Why is tonight not an echo? Because John is using it as an echo. It’s intentional.)
  1. The scene is dullsville because there’s no conflict. There should be some tension, any kind, even if it’s only an emotional knot inside one of the characters. Anything that takes the scene south of normal.

John Harper gazed out the window at his Christmas present.

“How do you like it?” his wife said.

John turned from the window and faced Carol.

“I can see you do,” Carol said.

“What’s wrong with your eyesight?” John said.

So what about you? Did you see anything else? What conflict might be added to  improve the scene?

January Motivational Words of Wisdom

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Happy New Year, and welcome to the first Words of Wisdom post of 2023. For me, finding time to write, using that time, as well as wanting to sustain that creativity throughout the year and beyond, is very much on my mind right now. Not only that, but figuring out how better to deal with various tasks and schedule what time you have to write.

So, I searched through the Kill Zone archives for January posts dealing with this and found gold. Three posts, which turned out to be spaced three years apart.

From January 2014, James Scott Bell gives advice on being creative throughout your life. Then, from January 2017 Joe Hartlaub tackles the challenge of time balance and gives some great tips. Finally, from January 2020 Elaine Viets discusses finding your most creative time and how to hew to that. I link to the full posts at the end of each excerpt, and all are worth reading in full.

Fight to be creative as long as you live. Do it this way:

  1. Always have at least three projects going

I wrote about this before (“The Asimov“). I think all writers should, at a minimum, have three projects on the burner: their Work-in-Progress; a secondary project that will become the WIP when the first is completed; and one or more projects “in development” (notes, concepts, ideas, character profiles, etc.). This way your mind is not stuck in one place.

  1. Take care of your body

The writer’s mind is housed in the body, so do what you have to do to keep the house in shape. Start small if you have to. Eat an apple every day. Drink more water. Walk with a small notebook and pen, ready to jot notes and ideas.

  1. Stay positive and productive

Write something every day. Even if it’s just journaling. Know that what you write to completion will see publication, guaranteed. It may be via a contract, like Herman Wouk. Or it may be digitally self-published. Heck, it could be a limited printing of a memoir, just for your family. Writers write with more joy when they know they will be read, and joy is the key to memorable prose.

  1. Do not go gentle into that good night

Write, write against the dying of the light! (apologies to Dylan Thomas). Refuse to believe you have diminished powers or have in any way lost the spark that compelled you to write in the first place. If they tell you that you just don’t have it anymore, throw your teeth at them. Who gets to decide if you can write? You do. And your answer is, I’ve still got it, baby, and I’m going to show you with this next story of mine!

So just keep writing and never decompose.

James Scott Bell—January 19, 2014

Writers are faced with this time balance on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Life gets in the way of writing. Heck, life gets in the way of life. My way of dealing with this has never been perfect and is constantly evolving. I am accordingly going to share with you my current method for coping with the time crunch, which, as I approach the downhill slope of my life, actually works pretty well.

1) Eat the booger first. That got your attention, didn’t it? The “booger” in this case is the task you want to do least. It can be anything from emptying the dishwasher to drafting that letter that contains bad news for the recipient. Do that first. Do it as soon as you get the bad news that you have been appointed to pass on. Do it when the dishwasher light goes on, or it buzzes, or whatever. I have found in most cases that the freakin’ idea of whatever it is you need to do but don’t want to is often worse than actually doing it.

2) List your Big Four. List four things which you try to do every day, regardless of what else happens. Put them in your calendar (on daily repeat) at the beginning of your day. Assign one word to each task — Watch, Read, Write, and Listen, for example — and do each of those things for fifteen minutes each day. If you want to keep doing them, fine, but the first time that you start each one be sure to stop after fifteen minutes. Come back to each one later, if you wish and if you can, but again, in fifteen minute increments. Do it with tasks that you want or have to do regularly, and love or hate (or somewhere in between) , but do each for fifteen minutes at a time. You will be surprised at how long and how short a quarter-hour is, and how much you can get done in that time period. This is particularly true of writing. Depending on your typing speed, inspiration, and perspiration, you can get a couple of hundred words out of you and on the screen in fifteen minutes. What? You say that doesn’t sound like much? Count out two hundred Skittles and throw them around the living room. Now pick them up. See. Two hundred is a lot. Do that for ten days and you have two thousand words or more, where before you had nothing. And so it goes.

3) Schedule things realistically, and adjust your expectations accordingly. It isn’t going to take you fifteen minutes to prepare your income tax return, so don’t schedule that from 10:00 to 10:15 on the night of April 14. You’ll just be making an appointment to be kissed by the goddess of disappointment. Go ahead and block off fifteen minutes for it, across twenty different days, or block off an entire day, if you can do it. You have a pretty good idea how long it takes you, however, from past experience, which is usually a pretty good indicator of present performance. But be realistic in your estimates of how long it takes you and how long you can work on it at a stretch. Think of YOUR abilities and limitations. Mickey Spillane wrote I the Jury in nineteen days, and Georges Simenon could write a book in less time than that, but you or I aren’t going to do that (probably). Don’t get discouraged when it takes longer than you thought it would, and plan accordingly.

Joe Hartlaub– January 28, 2017

 

2) Know your most creative time.
I get most of my writing done between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. After that, I’ll still write, but my work often feels flat. My brain really sparks during those four peak hours. After that, it’s better for editing.
(3) Seize the time you have.
If your husband takes the kids to McDonald’s, don’t use that time to sort socks. Write!
Romance writer Joan Johnston wrote her way to the New York Times bestseller list by writing her novels between 4 and 6 a.m. – while the kids were asleep. Now, that’s dedication.
What if you have a sick spouse or ailing children – or you don’t feel so well yourself?
That’s where your own determination comes in. I’ve written novels by my husband’s bedside when he was in the hospital, and edited proofs for the next book while waiting to hear from the doctor when he was in surgery.
Am I Super Woman? Heck, no! But I can concentrate for short periods. Writing is a way to escape a painful or scary situation. It can be solace.

(4) Make time
Remember the words of that rabble-rousing journalist, Mary Heaton Vorse: “The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair.” You need seat time.
Try to schedule time-sucking activities after your peak writing time. If the cat isn’t deathly ill, make her vet appointment at 4:30 p.m. The repairman – if he deigns to show up – will start the repairs after your peak writing time. And for now, I’m ignoring the squeaky dryer.
Be ruthless when you write. Turn off your cell phone. Ignore the siren call of the internet, tempting you with cat videos, unanswered emails and Kim Kardashian’s latest lingerie photo. Use that time to write.

(5) A writer writes.
Make that your mantra.
I love being a writer. I enjoy talking to other writers at the Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime meetings, and hanging out with other writers in the bar at conventions.
But writing is a lonely business. Eventually, I’m going to have to go to my office, all by myself, and write. You will, too. Good luck.

Elaine Viets—January 9, 2020

***

What advice do you have on sustaining your creativity throughout the year and beyond?

How do you strike that “time balance?”

Are you making any changes to your writing schedule this month?

 

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Reader Friday – Friday the 13th

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According to Wikipedia, we have one to three Friday the 13ths each year. This year we are allotted two – today and in October.

The history of Friday the 13th is too long to discuss here, but I will mention that in Hispanic and Greek culture the unlucky day is Tuesday the 13th, and in Italy it is Friday the 17th.

So, as I love to do here, let’s get wildly creative and set a NEW DAY TO REPLACE FRIDAY THE 13th.

The Assignment: Pick a day that was your most unlucky day, and give us a paragraph arguing why we should use your day, and replace Friday the 13th. Or, alternatively, pick a day that has been the most lucky day for you. Okay, put those thinking hats and creative brains to work, and show us the results.

 

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Ringing Out the Old Year With Hate Mail

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By John Gilstrap

Looking back on 2022, I confess I’m pleased by what I see. Two books and an anthology published, and two books written for publication in 2023. New house, new puppy, new radio gig, and a calming of pandemic panic that allowed the conference circuit to open up again.

For the most part, reviewers are kind to my books, to the point that I generally look forward to opening the emails I receive through my website. When I do receive the occasional negative email, it generally deals with the presence of too many typos or grammatical errors. Truth be told, the typos annoy me, too.

Then came Boxing Day, December 26, when I found this missive in my inbox from Mary Anne X:

I liked Stealth Attack right up until chapter 17, where Gilstrap once again revealed his proTrump mentality and his anti gun control stance. If he wants his protagonists to fight real corruption, he should have Jonathan Graves take on the Oath Keepers, or the Proud Boys, or the Trump administration itself. I don’t care if Gilstrap personally supports those criminals, but he’ll lose readers and profits if he doesn’t leave politics out of his novels. I’m done with his projecting such ignorance onto his fictional heroes. There’s better stuff to read. Can’t wait to write a review.

Okaay . . .

Stealth Attack hit the stands in July, 2020, which means I wrote it in 2019. When I read the email, I was confused. I couldn’t remember anything in that book that resembled anything that Mary Anne found so offensive. Recognizing that I am getting no younger, and that my memory isn’t necessarily as acute as it used to be, I pulled the book from my shelf and re-read Chapter 17.

To set the scene, Roman Alexander, a young man who’s very close to Jonathan Grave, has been kidnapped from El Paso by members of a drug cartel and spirited back across the border for reasons as-yet unknown in the story, though evidence is pointing toward human trafficking and child prostitution. Chapter 17 sees Jonathan and his team confronting cartel monsters in a bar in Sinaloa.

Best I could tell, this must have been the offending passage. As Jonathan muses about the challenge they face:

The U.S. State Department had had a travel advisory in place against most of the northern half of Mexico for the better part of a year now. Local gun laws were so draconian that possession of even a single bullet could get you put away for most of a lifetime, so no one was able to defend themselves against the gangsters who terrorized the country. The cartels owned the cops and the politicians, who cooperated by making sure that the populace was unable to resist or defend themselves.

By the time the chapter ends, a child prostitute’s pimp has a very, very bad day.

Let me stipulate from the beginning that every reader is 100% entitled to his or her own opinion. I read every email I receive and every review I can find. I never take offense from the bad ones and I try not to let the effusive ones swell my head. If someone feels passionate enough to share their opinion, I’ve at least made an impression.

The reason I bring this email to the fore at all is the underlying meanness it carries. Mary Anne’s intent, as implied in her concluding sentence, is to harm my career. It’s not that my writing is bad, it’s that I’m a bad person for writing it. It’s reflective of the times, I suppose. Oath Keepers and Proud Boys? I have no idea where that came from.

Here’s my big concern. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’ve built a following that trusts me to do my best to write a thriller that thrills. The one-off review like this gets counter-balanced by lots of others, so its impact on my career as a writer is negligible (at least I hope it is). For beginning writers, however, a screed like Mary Anne’s could be devastating. It’s mean spirited. I don’t understand the mindset.

I do think it’s interesting that in referring to “Gilstrap” in the body of her email, Mary Anne clearly doesn’t realize that she’s writing to me directly. I wonder if that bit of knowledge would have affected the tone of her missive. I’ll wager $100 that she would not have spoken that way to my face (no implied threat there from me, only suspected cowardice from her).

Now for my next challenge. While I never–NEVER!!!–respond to negative reviews, I promise on my website to always respond to every email. So . . . what to do? Here’s my response:

Hi, Mary Anne.

Thanks for your note. I promise on my website that I respond to every email, and I confess that most are more pleasing to address than yours. Sorry to push you away. I wrote Stealth Attack back in 2019, so I confess that you drove me to take another look at Chapter 17. You probably won’t be surprised that I don’t see what you saw, but that’s the nature of books. Once they’re launched, readers’ impressions are all that matters.
In today’s hyper-partisan climate, I think it can be too easy to project politics into places where they don’t exist. Fiction can cut close to reality, but at the end of the day, it’s still fiction. In Jonathan Grave’s world, Tony Darmond has been president for 14 years, and I don’t even know how long Irene Rivers has been director of the FBI. I don’t report on real government corruption, but rather create corruption that gives my cast of characters a reason to do what they do.
I intend to give my readers a thrill ride that may keep them up  at night, but I never intend to anger them. In your case, I seem to have dropped the ball.
I wish you a happy New Year.
If only you could read the first two drafts of that response–the ones that felt good to write but could never be sent.
Here’s to a terrific 2023!

 

 

On Tutus, Right Tackles
And Writing In Obscurity

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By PJ Parrish

Was perusing the New York Times over the holidays, lingering at my two favorite stops: sports and arts. In sports, I read about the Kansas City Chiefs offensive line (for you non-sports types, that’s the big fellows up front who form a pocket around the quarterback). In the arts section, I read a review of The Nutcracker that zeroed in on the corps de ballet (that’s the group of dancers who form a circle around the ballerina).

Patrick Mahomes being protected

I’ve been watching football since the 1950s, slogging with my Dad through the sad history of the Detroit Lions. I’m now a long-suffering Dolphins fan as well. I’ve been going to The Nutcracker since the 1980s, when I became dance critic. I think I have seen The Nutcracker over 400 times, every version from the dazzling (New York City Ballet, Miami City Ballet, Bolshoi) to the amateur and heartfelt (in hot gymnasiums with many parents in the audience).

On Christmas day, I watched the Lions and Packers. That night, I saw the Tallahassee Ballet dance The Nutcracker. I often focus on the play of the offensive line because they work hard in unison to showcase the quarterback. I focus on the corps dancers because they work in sync to showcase the ballerina. Until now, it never struck me how similar their jobs are.

 They both depend on teamwork

“Sometimes I’m blocking with a blind side and one of the other linemen literally has my back. We must rely on each other. We have to know each other’s personalities to coexist out there, and we have to know each other’s tendencies. — right tackle Kareem McKenzie.

“Sometimes you feel like you are just part of the scenery…the military aspect — the discipline, the straight lines, doing everything at the same time, the lack of individuality.”– Cécile Sciaux, Paris Opera Ballet.

2. They will never be the stars but without them, the show doesn’t go on.

“When you first get into the company, you don’t think you’re going to spend your life in the corps. Your dream is to be the lead, and at one level that never goes away.” — Dena Abergel, New York City Ballet.

“As kids, we all started out as quarterbacks or receivers, but then we got fat and slow so we became offensive linemen. We might try harder now, but who is going to notice a bunch of big guys blocking? — Center Shaun O’Hara.

Well, you don’t really notice them — until they screw up. If a Chiefs lineman misses a block, Patrick Mahomes gets sacked. If a corps girl’s leg goes too high in arabesque during the Shades entrance of La Bayadere, she shatters the whole lovely illusion.

So, if you watch the playoffs this week, pay attention to the chunky guys up front. And next time you go to the ballet, watch the girls in the back. There’s artistry in their obscurity.

Which is a long ways around to get to my point, crime dogs. Many of us tell great stories. Some of us get published. Some of us work hard and publish ourselves. Very very few of us become stars. Most of us will work in obscurity and quiet hopefulness. All of us have our special fears about that.

We fear we don’t have enough talent or the stamina needed to go the distance. We fear we will never connect with an agent or editor. We fear the churning changes in publishing will crush our dreams. We fear our work will get lost in the cacophony of self-publishing. We fear we’re too old for this, or that it’s too late to even start.

We fear obscurity.

What can I say? I’ve been there, believe me. I’ve been published by the biggest houses in New York, small presses, twelve foreign houses and by my own little self. I can tell you it has never gone away, the fear of sliding into nothingness. I’m battling another round of it of late. But I’m plugging on. So here, modestly, is what I can tell you as you start anew in this new year:

Don’t stop. Face the blank screen every day. I suggest doing so after you’ve gone back and read something you’ve already written. If it’s good, you can find great solace in your genius. If it’s not so good, you’re strong enough to admit it, hit delete and try again.

Stay connected. Try to write every day because the string between you and the imagined world of your story is fragile. You have to stay connected. If you stay away too long, you forget the language, lose your place, and find your characters have drifted away. Here’s Walter Mosley on the subject:

Writing a novel is like taking a journey by boat. You have to continuously set yourself on course. If you get distracted or allow yourself to drift, you will never make it to the destination. It’s not like highly defined train tracks or a highway; this is a path that you are creating discovering. The journey is your narrative. Keep to it and a tale will be told. Nothing we create is art at first. It’s simply a collection of notions that may never be understood. Returning every day thickens the atmosphere. Images appear. Connections are made. But even these clearer notions will fade if you stay away more than a day.

Read good books. I’ve posted about this before, but it’s vital to your momentum. When my own work is rough-sailing, I take a break and go read another chapter of Jess Walter’s Cold Millions. To paraphrase Jerry Maguire, he makes me want to be a better writer.

Clean yourself up. When I feel like I’m becoming engulfed by what Virginia Woolf called “the mist of obscurity” I think about that Marie Kondo lady. She’s the one who  preaches about decluttering your den or underwear drawer. Declutter the junk that prevents you from writing. Get off Facebook or whatever your social drug is. During writing time, turn off your phone’s text alerts and let your calls go to voice mail. Lock the kids out of your writing space, or decamp to a coffee house. And for heaven’s sake, clean up your office and your C-drives. Like those skinny jeans hiding in your closet, that lousy romantic suspense manuscript you whiffed on will only make you angry if you keep getting it out and looking at it.

Talk to someone. You probably don’t need a mentor, but a trusted beta-reader is good. Keep coming here to TKZ because we know what it feels like. Ditto critique groups, but stay away from pity parties where wine and whine is the only offerings.

Get some exercise. The science proves it: physical movement helps get the brain, bowels, biceps and everything going, including creative energy. I don’t recommend joining a gym. Wait until February when the crowds thin out. Walk the dog, even if you don’t have one.

Good grief. I just re-read this. I apologize for yet another extended metaphor, that bit about ballet and football. And I didn’t mean this to sound like a rah-rah-get-off-your-ass New Year’s resolution thing. I hate resolutions. Never make ’em.

But I do wish this for you as you go on into 2023: Try to embrace the idea of obscurity. Think of it merely as a state of being, a transition. Understand that writing is, at its essence, aloneness. You can’t write amid noise; embrace the quietude. Obscurity can be freeing. It releases you from your fear of failure, because who’s gonna hear you singing off-key if you’re doing it in the shower? This is what third and tenth drafts are for — whispering in the dark as you hone voice and craft until you’re ready to face the audience.

I leave you with a thought from Susan Orleans: “We are all whispering in a tin can on a string, but we are heard, so we whisper the message into the next tin can and the next string. Writing a book is an act of sheer defiance.”

And if you’re so inclined to watch, here is the Bolshoi corps in five of the most beautiful minutes in all of ballet. Good writing in the new year, friends.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iONWSjFaEww

Postscript: For technical reason, I am having trouble posting in our comments section today. If I don’t answer in a timely fashion, please be patient. I have to use our back door.

 

That Amazing Word, and other Vocabulary Issues

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I fear the English language is in trouble.

My old daddy likely said the same thing when us kids used such words as cool, far out, gnarly, bummer, or any number of late 1960s slang.

He didn’t like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, or Led Zeppelin, either.

But I’m not talking about just kids here at the beginning of this new year. Those old saws about 2023 resolutions are all I’ve seen on television this week. I’m glad they won’t go on for months like those slanted political ads that don’t provide all the real information, just the sound bites they want you to remember.

I don’t make resolutions, because I don’t intend to fail. What I do pledge each January, is to do my best in whatever I do, and to never give up.

There are a few things I wish would fade away here in this new year, and the first is my biggest irritation, the abominable word amazing. Unlike the abovementioned slang, this word crosses all ages and genders, and is annoying no matter where it comes from.

A couple of morning ago, I was half-listening to an inane TV talk show and ginning around the house without paying any real attention to the program. Those people with starry eyes and unnaturally white teeth were talking about nothing. But That Word was used a dozen times in less than thirty minutes, referring to makeup, someone’s appearance, a pair of shoes, a movie, a fake celebrity who’s done nothing in her life but be in the news, and the weather.

Annoyed to no end, I switched it to HGTV for background noise. I have an architectural background, and am a serial home renovator, always working on some project around the house, so I occasionally enjoy watching a few of those home improvement shows to get ideas.

I also like to see the results after they bring in a thirty-man crew to work eighteen hours a day for six weeks to finish a three-month project during a one-hour television program.

When the married hosts took their clients through the completed project during the final segment known as “the reveal,” everything was That Word again, only to excess. Someone should have written a better script for these reality clients who feigned excitement and surprise about everything.

They had a limited vocabulary, mostly limited to amazing. The exterior of the house was amazing, the plants were amazing, the living room was amazing.

“This kitchen is amazing!”

“This table is amazing!”

“These chairs are amazing!”

“The fireplace is amazing!”

“This wallpaper is amazing!”

“You two are amazing!”

Tired of reading That Word? You can’t imagine how it makes me feel, and as I like to point out to the eye-rolling dismay of my Bride, if everything is amazing, then nothing is.

How about we lift our vocabulary this year in both writing and conversation, and find another way to express ourselves, or even think about a different way to say something.

The Grand Canyon is stunning, magnificent.

The Grand Tetons in Wyoming are spectacular.

Arches National Park is impressive.

A bright silver color of a 43-pound salmon caught on a flyrod is exquisite.

In my opinion, the overuse of That Word is due to laziness, and society’s increasing inability to think for themselves. It’s watering down the English language.

Oh, and the overused phrase, “You look amazing” means nothing, because when the speaker can’t think of anything original, the result is as familiar as air. It’s reminiscent of an unprepared speaker addressing an audience.

“I, um, well, um, this is great, um, my amazing boss came in the other day and um, he said that preparation is the key to performance and, um, well, that’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Um. Amazing. Is the word filler, or an overused adjective defined as “causing great surprise or wonder? Why don’t we say it’s astonishing?

That tie is astonishing? Or, this room is astonishing.

Is a new paint scheme on a house astonishing? Do the contrasting colors cause a feeling or great surprise or wonder? I doubt it. The viewer may like the colors, but I can’t imagine them making a person giddy.

People say amazing because it requires no thought. For example, during a conversation a couple of months ago a young man felt the need to fill in a pause in conversation by saying, “It’s amazing.”

I couldn’t help myself. “What’s amazing?”

The blank look on his face was explanation enough. The words meant nothing.

Good lord, maybe my daughters are right. Maybe I am a curmudgeon.

While we’re at it, young folks, let’s eliminate the word, literally.

“I literally died laughing.”

No you didn’t.

To be fair, I don’t see “amazing” or “literally” used in print that often, it’s mostly in speech, but there are a few words we can eliminate in print. They’re words that creep in early drafts, and somehow duck, bob, and weave to avoid extraction during re-writes or proofing.

They’re mostly adverbs, but a few that crop up in my own first drafts have no business being there.

Very, just, and really are the worst, in my opinion. And again, properly edited novels usually don’t include these three weeds, but I’ve heard them from newscasters this new year and it drives me crazy. My question, did someone write this copy?

“It was a very terrible accident.”

“In a really horrible incident today…”

Some adjectives are non-gradable. You can’t be a bit dead, or very dead. Something is either finished, or it’s not. It can’t be a bit finished or very finished. A woman is either pregnant or not, she’s not a little bit pregnant.

I know these are usually spoken issues and not written, but when writers develop an ear for misused words or tragically constructed sentences, (as Pee Wee Herman said, “I meant to do that.”) they can improve their own works.

Again, simply choosing the right word is the best medicine.

There are more, but today I’m easily distracted and this discussion reminded me of homophones, which crop up all the time. Thankfully we don’t find them in many released novels, but there are those times when we see:

Here/Hear.

They’re/their/there.

Cite/sight.

It’s/its’/its.

Peak/peek/pique.

Bored/board.

Principal/principle

The old folks here in Northeast Texas used to say that what you do on the first day of a new year is what you’ll be doing for the next 364 days, and it looks like I’m a little crabby, but I write this on January 4, so I missed that blessing…or curse.

So with that rant over, I hope y’all have a safe, fun, happy, and profitable new year.

The World’s Deadliest Fish

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Most folks think great white, tiger, and mako sharks are the world’s deadliest fish. They’re dangerous all right, but the deep’s deadliest distinction goes to the cute little pufferfish you remember from Disney’s Little Mermaid. Also called blowfish and sunfish, these sashimi delicacies known as fugu kill 10 times more people per year than sharks. And they do it a lot slower and far more viciously.

Shark attack deaths are super rare. Sharks kill an average of 5 people each year worldwide, although statistics show at least 80 violent human-to-shark encounters happen annually. Most shark victims are seriously injured like having an arm or leg torn apart, yet somehow survive. Not so with pufferfish poisoning.

Pufferfish death statistics are hard to nail down, but the World Health Organization and an article in National Geographic confirm at least 50 people expire every year after ingesting neurotoxins found in pufferfish livers, ovaries, testicles, intestines, and skin. Hundreds more become seriously ill and only bounce back through immediate medical intervention.

What makes pufferfish so toxic is tetrodotoxin. It’s 1,200 times more powerful than potassium cyanide which the Nazis used in their poison pills. Tetrodotoxin is the world’s deadliest substance by volume next to anthrax and a chemical inside the tropical cone snail. In fact, tetrodotoxin is far more lethal than venom found in the common death adder and the notorious taipan snake. Injecting 1 microdot of pure tetrodotoxin will kill the average-sized human. That’s equivalent to 10 nanograms, which is an amount impossible to see with the naked eye.

So why are powerfully poisonous pufferfish such a preferred palatable pleasure?

It’s because specialized fugu chefs know how to safely filet this culinary delight. In Japan, where fugu is so popular, chefs undergo a state-required licensing program. Apprentice fugu chefs train for 3 years before taking a written, oral, and practical exam on the 30 prescribed steps for properly preparing pufferfish. Only a third pass.

Fugu chefs are extremely cautious about processing their pufferfish. They meticulously remove the toxic parts and treat the offal like nuclear waste. Pufferfish flesh is delicate and exceptionally tasty. The Japanese have a high demand for this sashimi dish, but it’s popular all through the warm water world where pufferfish naturally occur.

There are over 120 different pufferfish or tetrodontiforme sub-species. An adult dwarf blowfish is only an inch long and too small for a meal. But the largest fugu fish reach two feet in length and weigh up to five pounds. Pufferfish get their common name from a defensive ability to swallow water and expand their stomachs up to four times. Blowing into a ball shape makes pufferfish hard to grip by predators’ teeth. Many sub-species have sharp, poisonous spikes on the skin surface which lay flat when uninflated. However, when alarmed and expanded, pufferfish turn into deadly mines.

Pufferfish don’t manufacture tetrodotoxin within a body system.

Rather, tetrodotoxin is a by-product made by invasive bacteria that pufferfish ingest in their food. Snails are the main part of pufferfish diet. These subtle sea creatures contain a combination of alteromona, shewanella, and vibrio bacteria which react with pufferfish innards to isolate tetrodotoxin. Evolution created a pufferfish immunity to the toxin where sodium channels are mutated. This is why the bacterial doesn’t kill its host.

But tetrodotoxin certainly tries to kill anything trying to eat a pufferfish, particularly human beings. It does this by molecularly bonding to cells and blocking the sodium channels which allow neurological information instructing cells to be elastic. When sodium channels are blocked, cells remain neutral or paralyzed. If enough tetrodotoxin is taken, the victim suffers total paralysis including the diaphragm’s ability to move. There’s no lung inhaling or exhaling and the stricken person smothers while remaining totally conscious.

It’s a nasty way to die—lying there with eyes open and knowing the end is near. But not all pufferfish poisoning patients die. It greatly depends on the amount or dose of tetrodotoxin consumed. It also depends on having medical assistance present. Standard treatment for tetrodotoxin cases is keeping the ailing victim on mechanical ventilation while the person metabolizes the toxin and excretes it. This can be several days or even weeks if a person becomes comatose. There’s no known antidote.

Even the slightest amount of tetrodotoxin will cause discomfort and distress.

First, the lips and face feel tingly. Similarly, the finger and toes tips are affected. Headache, nausea, and vomiting follow. Then total muscular paralysis occurs along with the inability to breathe. Respiratory failure causes a loss of oxygenated blood to the heart and the patient suffers cardiac arrest.

Tetrodotoxin is non-soluble in water and heat resistant. A chef can’t flush tetrodotoxin from pufferfish sashimi flesh. Nor can they cook it out. But tetrodotoxin never occurs naturally in pufferfish flesh. It’s only introduced when an organ is punctured. Once the flesh is contaminated by a leaky liver, gut, bladder, or reproductive organ, it’s impossible to rid. It’s also impossible for the untrained eye to spot a leak as the toxin is colorless.

Despite pufferfish being so dangerous, there’s no hesitation to eat the stuff.

Japan is the largest fugu-consuming country. It’s an important part of their culinary culture. Fugu is a seasonal commodity as the fish’s toxicity is directly related to water temperature. Even though pufferfish require warm, sub-tropical water, tetrodotoxin intensity stays relatively low during the fall and winter when waters are cooler. Once the spring and summer heat hits, the bacteria blooms and pufferfish become far too toxic to risk handling. Even pufferfish urine absorbed through the skin can be lethal.

The finest fugu pufferfish come from the Shimonoseki region in southern Japan. It’s a city of 250,000 and boasts 500 licensed fugu chefs. Shimonoseki’s fish market is a Mecca for fugu aficionados. It’s world renown in fugu circles, having a giant brass pufferfish statue outside. Live and processed pufferfish are shipped worldwide every day from Shimonoseki and command the industry’s highest price.

The fugu fishing industry is tightly regulated with a restriction on licenses. Fishing openings are on a lottery base and apply daily. Shimonoseki’s fugu market processes over 300 tons of pufferfish yearly. Every day, the market hosts a pufferfish auction where buyers secretly bid with the auctioneer by hand signals concealed in a black cloth bag. This way, no one knows the current price except the successful bidder and auctioneer. This allows fluctuating market prices which is considered healthy for the fugu industry.

Fugu dining isn’t just a palatial experience.

The Japanese have fugu down to an art form. Not only are fugu chefs trained not to poison customers, they’re skilled at delighting guests who will pay $200-300 USD for a fugu dinner. Most fugu is sliced as ultra-thin shimini wafers and accompanied with sushi rice rolls and sauces. This is expected, but the presentation can be breathtaking.

Top fugu chefs take enormous pride and enjoy tremendous recognition for preparing and presenting their pufferfish. Commonly, fugu platters are laid out in traditional Japanese patterns representing swans and chrysanthemums. They’re a thing of beauty and so is how a fugu dinner unfolds.

Most fugu dinners run from five to seven courses eaten over several hours. The best fugu restaurants have live tanks where guests pick their personal pufferfish. It’s then prepared in front of the table with the fugu-master fileting the fish and plucking the poison. Guests are progressively served raw or shimini-style fugu followed by cooked fugu in soups, stews and hot sake.

But for every honorable and noble fugu establishment, there are always those pushing the rules.

Believe it or not, there’s a flourishing fugu black market where patrons seek seedy sushi saloons. Some fugu daredevils thrive on devouring fugu tainted with tetrodotoxin. They claim it gives them an incredible high found nowhere else. And where there’s a buck to be made, someone will take it.

Finally, there’s a fugu subculture with its own rules and regulations. For instance, it’s considered bad manners to ask someone else to first try a fugu serving in fine restaurants. It’s also considered crude to take a fugu bite, then mockingly grasp the throat and recoil in agony. And no patron should ever appear shocked when presented their fugu bill.

Kill Zoners: Have you ever used poison (the weapon of women) in your stories? If so, tell us about it and how it turned out. Also, has anyone out there tried fugu?

What’s Your Writing Time Like?

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What’s Your Writing Time Like?
Terry Odell

Image by 0fjd125gk87 from Pixabay

We’re four days into the new year, and by now, I’m sure everyone’s been inundated with posts about the good, the bad, and the ugly of 2022, and suggestions for a better 2023.

I’ll offer my take on why I don’t make resolutions, and that’s it on the subject of New Years, other than wishing everyone at TKZ a very positive one.

Okay … on with a more writerly offering. Another one of my questions about how people approach their writing.

Note: I’m talking about getting words down, not ideas. To me, that’s a different facet of the process.

I’ve got a writer friend who wants large chunks of time for fear she’ll get “on a roll” and then have to leave for lunch, an appointment, watching the football game, whatever, and lose momentum. She’ll say, “It’s almost lunchtime, so no point in starting now.” There’s nothing wrong with that. She produces and meets her deadlines, but her comment got me thinking about how other writers utilize time.

I’ll go first. Disclaimer: I’m a retired empty-nester with a husband who understands that I spend time at the keyboard. (In fact, I think he’s glad I do.)

My first activities of the day (which starts for me at about 5:30) include checking email, doing the Mini-Cross, playing Tiles, and chatting with one of my critique partners. Breakfast fits in there somewhere, along with crushing a few candies. Getting the “easy stuff” out of the way until I’m coherent. I can barely find the right keys for the crossword, so being productive first thing doesn’t work for me.

My first “writing” thing comes after I’ve finished my playtime. It’s probably around 7:30. I look at the marked up chapter from the previous night’s read. If I didn’t end a scene or chapter and had nothing to print, then I have nothing to tweak, which throws off my morning routine. I’ll reread to see where I left off and try to pick things up from there, but it takes longer to get into the story.

I know I’ll be interrupted for dog walkies around 9:30, but unlike my writer friend, instead of waiting until I get back, I try to move forward. Once I get going, I keep the manuscript open on the PC all day and work on it as time permits (which, as mentioned above, for an introverted, retired empty-nester is significant). If I have appointments, or need to cook dinner, or it’s laundry day, I write until it’s time to deal with them, take care of the chore, and return to the work. Looking at my productivity, I do better in the afternoon, as there seem to be fewer things needing my attention, so I can remain immersed in the story. But a goal of 500 words before lunch and at least 1000 words a day is my norm.

I know some people carry a notepad or recording device and are never not writing. They’ll write a paragraph, or a single sentence, utilizing time in waiting rooms, car pool pickup/dropoff lines, sporting events. If they’re plotters/outliners, they might work on a scene that’s way down the line. That doesn’t work for me. I write at my computer, and figure my word count output is justification enough for leaving the manuscript alone if I’m not around the house.

In a Q&A session with Nora Roberts, she says she works out 90 minutes a day and works in her office 6-8 hours a day. That’s her job, as she puts it, and she takes it seriously (obviously, to look at her output).

So, what kind of writer are you? Bits and pieces? Longer sessions? Dedicated hours for writing when nothing else is allowed to happen? Can you hop around the story as ideas hit, or are you (like me) extremely linear and everything hits the page in the order it happens in the story?

Bargain/BSP Time: The first book in my Mapleton series, Deadly Secrets, is perma-free, and the second book, Deadly Bones, is on sale for 99 cents this week only. My 11th book in this series, Deadly Relations, is about ready to go to my editor. I’m hoping it’ll be ready to go in time for Left Coast Crime in March—and hope to see some TKZers there.

Coming Soon! Deadly Relations.

Nothing Ever Happens in Mapleton … Until it Does

Gordon Hepler, Mapleton, Colorado’s Police Chief, is called away from a quiet Sunday with his wife to an emergency situation at the home he’s planning to sell. A man has chained himself to the front porch, threatening to set off an explosive.

Terry Odell is an award-winning author of Mystery and Romantic Suspense, although she prefers to think of them all as “Mysteries with Relationships.”

First Page Critique – Deadly Water

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Photo credit: Ray Bilcliff, pexels

by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Happy New Year! Hope the spirit of the holiday season kept you warm in spite of the frigid weather.

What better way to kick off the first week of the new year than with a First Page critique? Please take a plunge into Deadly Water submitted by a Brave Author.

~~~

Deadly Water

Kit sat on the back steps and laced up his running shoes. Getting a bit battered he thought. Might have to invest in a new pair if I plan on doing that marathon later in the year. Jumping nimbly to his feet, and making sure he had the ball in his pocket, he set off up the road towards the beach. Gem trotting happily beside him.

The day had one of those dirty gray overcast skies that were full of rain. The forecast was indeed for it to bucket down later. Kit knew these skies well, having grown up on the street he still lived. Rain would come from the north east, and it would last for a few days. Given his current mood this suited him perfectly well.

Down on the beach the tide was well out. Despite the number of runners, walkers, dogs, and strollers, there was plenty of room for Kit and Gem. As she had done for countless kilometers, Gem was content to lope alongside Kit. Half border collie, half German Shepard, Gem was a true companion. Loyal, obedient, and possibly deadly. Strangers never knew if Gem was going to herd them, or rip their lungs out.

Kit ran with one of those easy strides that made running look easy. He was tall, with hair that wasn’t quite red, not quite auburn. With that, and his green eyes, he could either scrub up stunningly, or just as easily look like he had slept rough for days.

They did the mandatory four lengths of the beach. Kit then took the disgusting old tennis ball out of his pocket and threw it into the water for Gem to chase. He still had a good throwing arm from his cricketing days, so this gave Gem a good workout. The sprint up the hill home always made him feel virtuous.

Back home he made his regular breakfast of egg with tomatoes on toast, and fed Gem. It was now getting on for seven thirty, and Kit wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the rest of the day. The house really did need some work, especially the fence. Ever since his parents had died, and Kit inherited the house, he had not much felt like renovating.

The promised rain arrived.

It was on day three of the rain that his mobile went. It hadn’t rung for days. His mates knew better than to annoy him when the mood was on. Kit and Gem had still run every morning. Running as therapy Kit thought grimly to himself more than once.

~~~

Okay, let’s get started.

Title: A title makes the book’s first impression on a reader and Deadly Water fills the bill for the mystery/suspense/crime genre. It immediately raises the question—why is the water deadly? That promises sinister happenings–maybe a floating body, murder by drowning, or a dangerous hunt for undersea treasure.

The title also works to set the story’s mood. Treacherous seas evoke primal fears of being lost, alone, and helpless in the depths, along with the terror of being unable to breathe. BA made an evocative, effective choice with Deadly Water. Good job!

Craft: The writing is generally clear. No typos or spelling errors except “Shephard” should be “Shepherd.”

“Might have to invest in a new pair if I plan on doing that marathon later in the year.” This is the only place where “I” is used. The rest of the page is in third person.

For consistency, consider changing I to he: “Might have to invest in a new pair if he planned on doing that marathon later in the year.”

“Well” is repeated twice in two paragraphs.

The phrase “one of those” appears twice and is unnecessarily vague and wordy.

Try reading this page out loud to pick up repeated words and to smooth out a few awkward phrases.

Beginning a sentence with “It was” sounds weak. What does it refer to?

Watch out for gerunds (-ing words). “Jumping nimbly to his feet, and making sure he had the ball in his pocket, he set off up the road towards the beach. Gem trotting happily beside him.”

Suggested rewrite: Kit made sure he had Gem’s ball in his pocket. He jumped to his feet and set off up the road towards the beach, the dog trotting happily beside.

Setting and tone: British-isms like “scrub up” and “mates”, as well as the reference to “cricket”, suggest the setting is an English seaside town.

“Dirty gray overcast skies that were full of rain” is a nicely written phrase that establishes a gloomy, threatening tone.

“Given his current mood this suited him perfectly well” indicates Kit feels melancholy.

Characters: Two characters are introduced, Kit and Gem.

Kit is a fit marathon runner who still lives on the same street where he grew up. He recently inherited a home after his parents’ deaths.

Kit ran with one of those easy strides that made running look easy. He was tall, with hair that wasn’t quite red, not quite auburn. With that, and his green eyes, he could either scrub up stunningly, or just as easily look like he had slept rough for days.

This description gives a clear picture of what Kit looks like. However, the point of view is omniscient—as if a god is looking down on him—in contrast with the third-person POV in the rest of the excerpt.

An important goal at this early stage is to interest and connect the reader closely with the main character. Switching the POV pulls the reader out of the story, which is risky.

Gem is described as:

Half border collie, half German Shepard, Gem was a true companion. Loyal, obedient, and possibly deadly. Strangers never knew if Gem was going to herd them, or rip their lungs out.

Whoa! Ripping lungs out grabs the reader’s interest in a big way. I want to know more about this dog.

What causes her to react with unexpected violence? Is she trained to attack? If so, why does Kit need or want an attack dog? Should she be off-leash on a public beach? How does Kit handle Gem’s scary behavior?

At this point, Gem is a far more interesting, compelling character than Kit. She is also an effective device to foreshadow future conflict.

Story Problem: This otherwise well-written page has a major flaw.

Nothing happens.

Here are the problems Kit faces on this page:

Should he buy new running shoes?

Can he motivate himself to fix the fence?

His mobile goes dead.

None of these problems is compelling or earth-shaking.

The reader doesn’t care. And that’s a BIG problem. 

A side note: I was confused by the sentences “It was on day three of the rain that his mobile went. It hadn’t rung for days.”

On the first reading, I thought “his mobile went” meant the phone had gone dead. On rereading, I wondered if the first sentence was missing a word. Should it have read “his mobile went off”? In other words, did it ring for the first time in days?

If in fact the phone does ring for the first time in days, that constitutes a disturbance, which I’ll discuss in a moment. However, since the reader doesn’t know the significance of an incoming call, it’s not a compelling hook.

Back to the story problem. BA hints at potential difficulties. Kit is depressed enough that his mates know not to call him. He considers running as therapy but doesn’t address why he needs therapy. If his mood is connected to the deaths of his parents, how does that lead to a larger story question?

At TKZ, we talk frequently about ever-shorter attention spans. Reading is only one activity in world filled with constant distractions.

For authors seeking traditional publication, agents and editors need to be grabbed by the first page, paragraph, or even sentence. Otherwise, they quickly move on to the next submission.

The same applies to self-published authors. The “Look Inside” sample must immediately grab a prospective buyer’s attention. If not, there are a few million other books they can check out.

This first page is not a story yet because there is no disturbance or conflict. It’s just another day in the lives of Kit and Gem where nothing out of the ordinary happens.

The background may be useful to help the author become familiar with the setting and characters.

 But…it’s boring for the reader.

 My guess is the real story begins a few pages later when a significant event changes the course of Kit’s life.

Unfortunately, most readers won’t stick around that long. To hook them, put the disturbance on the first page, preferably in the first few paragraphs.

What if Kit throws the ball for Gem to retrieve but instead she brings back a severed hand?

Bam! The story is off and running.

Here’s one possible way to begin:

Kit’s mobile went dead during his regular morning run along the seashore, deserting him when he needed it most.

Gem, his German Shepherd-border collie mix, was racing down the beach after her ball. Abruptly, she stopped to sniff a pile of flotsam that three days of windswept rain had washed ashore. As Kit approached, he noticed a stench besides rotting seaweed.

A body. 

He started to call emergency services then realized his phone was dead, as dead as the young woman handcuffed to a wooden rail.

Jim Bell frequently counsels writers to “act first, explain later.”

To make this first page effective, try beginning with action. What disturbance changes Kit’s predictable, monotonous life into a story adventure?

The background information—like his familiarity with weather patterns, his parents’ deaths, and that he lives on the same street where he grew up—can all be woven in later, after the reader is hooked.

Summation: This page has potential. I like the English seaside setting and Gem is an interesting character. The excellent title promises that something bad is going to happen.

If BA rewrites the first page with action that lives up to the title’s promise, the reader will be eager to plunge into those Deadly Waters.

Thanks for submitting, Brave Author!

~~~

Over to you, TKZers. What do you think of this first page? What suggestions do you have for the Brave Author?

~~~

 

 

Start the New Year with a new series. Please check out award-winning Thrillers with Passion by Debbie Burke. 

Amazon link