By John Gilstrap

Of the countless moving parts in a story, an element I find among the top five most annoying is the naming of characters.

A famous romance writer said in an article I read years ago that she cannot type the first word of her stories until she knows the characters’ names. The names, she said, say so much about the characters and their personalities, and without that bit of creative data locked into her brain, none of the other stuff works.

To me, characters’ names–particularly the minor ones–are little more than labels. I have to call them something, right? There are practical considerations, too. Many of those are tied to the fact that I want to make this writing business as simple as possible for myself.

I keep the names short.

I’m going to be typing the letter sequence of a name dozens, if not hundreds, of times in a manuscript. Typing four letters hundreds of times is easier than typing 12 or 15 letters hundreds of times.

I keep the names pronounceable. 

When I read silently, I actually read aloud but without making noise. I pronounce every word in my head as I plow through, and when I stumble onto a name that I can’t pronounce, the story stops for me. This is one of the primary reasons why I don’t read fantasy stories. In my own writing, one of the reasons why I don’t deal with Middle Eastern terrorists–other than the fact that every other writer in my corner of the thrillerverse is doing it–is I don’t want to get bogged down with Middle Eastern names.

I avoid homophonic names.

At the beginning of each book, I tackle the administrative task of updating my auto correct to automatically capitalize my characters’ names. Thus, when I type jonathan, it automatically converts to Jonathan. Thus, you’ll never find me writing a book with a character named Robin. If I did, then the bird version of the road would be capitalized. The reason why my recurring character named Boxers has an S at the end is so it doesn’t conflict with the pugilistic version of the word.

Google is my friend.

The drug cartels of Central and South America are frequent enemies of Jonathan Grave, which means I create POV characters who need Hispanic names. To find them, I turn to Google and type “Colombian (or Mexican or Venezuelan) surnames” and “Colombian (etc.) first names.” Then I shop for names from those lists.

Excel is also my friend.

My Victoria Emerson series is a true series, where each story builds on the one that preceded it. At this point, having just submitted White Smoke (the third book in the series, following Crimson Phoenix and Blue Fire), I’m about 900 pages into the story. Between main characters, secondary characters and walk-ons, I’ve introduced about 150 named players. The only way to keep them straight was to create a spreadsheet that documented their names, a descriptor, and which subplot they’re a part of.

So, TKZ family, are character names important to you? How do you choose them?

By PJ Parrish

Today I want to talk about sex. The dirty deed. The two-backed beast. The Nasty. Le Freak. Riding the Pony. Rock ‘n’ Rolling. Aardvarking. Boinking. Shagging. Doing the No-Pants Dance.

And I want to ask just one question: Why are crime writers such wusses when it comes to sex?

I had to lay aside a nice post I had started for today about settings, and now I have to talk about sex because of the current book I am reading. It’s by a well-known thriller writer and I was having a good time with it until last night. That’s when he got to the sex scene. It was awful. No, worse than awful. I laughed. And now I am having trouble getting back in the mood. So forgive my testiness today.

What the heck happens to some writers when they have to write about sex?

l tell you what I think happens. They get as self-conscious as pimply prom dates. Crime writers can meet murder head on and not flinch, can even render death poetic. But faced with having to describe copulation — especially in the context of — gasp! relationships — they can turn out the most dreadful, unbelievable, embarrassing treacle.

Let’s crack open a page here:

“But the hand was what she tried to concentrate on, the hand, since it has the entire terrain of her torso to explore and not just the otorhinolaryngological caverns — oh God, it was not just at the border where the flesh of the breast joins the pectoral sheath of the chest — no, the hand was cupping her entire right — Now!”

That wasn’t from the book I was reading last night. That writer shall remain nameless. I might have to face him someday in the Bouchercon bar. That passage above was written by Tom Wolfe in I am Charlotte Simmons.

Otorhinolaryngological caverns? Did this guy EVER get laid?

At the risk of being offensive here, I will suggest that it is usually the guys who fall apart when sex rears its ugly head in their books. Not that women crime writers haven’t turned out some leaden bedroom prose. But I’m thinking it might have something to do with the “guy relationship” thing. Male crime writers tend to get squeamish when they have to write about the emotional stuff. So when the impulses of the heart (or even just loins) propel the hero(ine) into bed, things get icky fast. And guys, especially thriller writer guys, tend to chomp onto the cliches like a rabid Jack Russell. Like: Why is the woman always hot to trot with no warmup? (This was the basic problem with the book I was reading last night).

Believe me, I sympathize with any of you who have problems writing sex scenes. Before I turned to writing mysteries, I used to write what in the Eighties was euphemistically called Women’s Contemporary Fiction. (Big fat sagas about internecine family intrigue with sex scenes). I became pretty good at sex, if I do say so myself. So I know how hard it is to write about it without looking silly. For starters, you have get your folks out of their clothes. And then you have to get the plumbing connections right. And then — and here’s where most writers lose it — you might have to write dialogue that doesn’t sound like two four-year-olds making mud pies.

Okay, I have a confession to make. For six books into our series, we had managed to avoid our hero Louis Kincaid having sex, probably on purpose. Once, I even got a fan letter from a lady in Maine asking me why Louis never had sex. But in A Killing Rain, he fell in love with a woman, Joe Frye, and it was finally time for Louis to get some. My co-author sister Kelly and I knew the scene was coming, and we decided it had to be on camera. No wussy fade to black this time. So there we were, sitting in my office with our Ferrante and Teicher computers. I had drawn duty to write the sex scene, but man, I just couldn’t do it. It just seemed so darn…yucky, given our hardboiled style. But there was Louis and his woman and it was my duty to light their fire. And I froze.

Writing together in my office. Not sure if this was the actual day of the sex scene but from the look on my face, it probably was.

Kelly, hearing no typing, turned and asked, “Okay, what is it now?”
“I can’t do this. I got them out on the dark porch. You take it.”
So we switched chairs and Kelly gave it a go. After a moment, I realized I hadn’t heard any typing. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I got their clothes half off. You take it.”
I rolled back and gave it another shot. Nada. Dry as dust. I had lost that lovin’ feeling.

Finally, we sat side by side and sweated it out. It was brutal. But eventually, Louis got laid without us resorting to a From Here To Eternity beach cop-out.

Now, lest I be accused of guy-bashing, I’ll allow some men to weigh in here. Here’s C.J. Box, at the Montana Festival of the Book, talking about how he does it: “My protagonist is married, so there are no sex scenes.”

Wuss…

Here’s Neil McMahon, in an interview talking about his first book, Twice Dying, where his man and woman ended up in a motel room. He tried to slide by with a few sentences. But his editor demanded a full-blown sex scene, saying, “All right. This is it. You’re going to have to write this. It’s going to have to be explicit. This is a deal-breaker.” So I wrote it, McMahon said.

Brave man…

For a more thoughtful take, let’s go to my good friend Jim Fusilli, talking about his book Tribeca Blues: “Sex is a theme in Tribeca Blues — covert sex, back-alley sex, the ramifications of that kind of thing. So there had to be a sex scene between two people who have genuine affection for each other. In the context of the story, I think it works. It’s sensual but not salacious. It wasn’t easy to write. I felt a little squeamish. I don’t know. I’m not a prude, but maybe I had too many years of Catholic school or something. You know, if you’re going to write it, you have to write it well. You’ve got to feel it and make it real. You can’t be saying “wee-wee” and “boobies” any more than you can say “throbbing member” or “heaving love mounds” or some bullshit like that. It’s got to be as believable as when you’ve got him walking down the street.”

At least Jim has the guts to meet the subject head on.

Not all guy crime writers shy away from sex. Some embrace it. Max Allan Collins and Jeff Gelb have produced some sophisticated erotic mysteries. But those are the small exceptions.

In closing, I’ll give the last word to a woman –veteran mystery novelist and Edgar winner Dana Stabenow: “There are a ton of people, critics and writers alike, who say that in detective fiction it should be the classic Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe character who have to be loners. That’s changed a lot with the advent of women writing in the mystery field, because women tend to emphasize relationships. For about 5,000 years that was pretty much all we had, our lives revolved around relationships and our husbands and our families and our children. So there are a lot of women reading mystery fiction and I think publishers are going to publish what they can sell — and if they can sell mysteries that have an element of relationship in them, then that’s what they’re going to solicit writers to produce.”

And damn it, that includes sex.

I don’t know what the answer is. Maybe we need convention panels or workshops to teach this stuff. All I know is I am glad I don’t write romantic novels anymore. Frankly, sex just wears me out. Writing it, that is. I’m too old now. And you know, I am much happier killing people than having sex. But maybe that is a female thing.

I wonder, are writers born with the gift of lying…uh, natural storytelling on paper, or is it inspired by some event in our lives?

In my opinion, a lot of it has to do with our interest in reading and gathering a lifetime of stories. Anyone who’s heard me speak knows I grew up in rural Chicota, Texas, where the old men up at the store loafed on the porch and talked about the world while I drank RC Colas and listened in silence.

My maternal grandparent’s little frame farmhouse had two bedrooms. Back in my larval stages, I slept with my mother in the room with two beds. My grandmother slept in the other. Being country folks, we turned in with the chickens and after lights out, they talked quietly in the darkness while a soft breeze and the call of a whippoorwill flowed through the rusty screens.

And I absorbed every word from every one of those old folks.

I think all those stories planted a seed that morphed into the obsession to spin my own fictional tales. Choosing what to write about might have been hard for some budding authors, but not for me. I fell into mysteries before migrating to thrillers and now, westerns both traditional and contemporary.

Looking back, my life and ultimate genre choices came from books and movies. Stephen King can point to the comics and horror movies he read and watched as a youngster. I’d bet a dollar to a donut that John Grisham writes law thrillers because of his profession, though I imagine he always wanted to be an author. Louis L’Amour wrote his westerns because he loved cowboys, honor, and the west.

Mine came from different sources.

I guess I was pretty malleable back in 1963 when the Old Man took me to see a movie that significantly impacted my life. Y’all likely know the story that started with Earl Hamner Jr.’s novel and eventually became the successful television series, The Waltons. The original movie, though, was filmed in God’s Country, the Grand Tetons in Wyoming, and featured Henry Fonda and Maureen O’Hara.

In Spencer’s Mountain, Clay and Olivia Spencer are the fourth generation of a family living on Spencer’s Mountain in the Snake River Valley. Though a solid family man with high morals, Clay distains religion while Olivia raises their nine children in the church. They live with his parents, and he promised to build her a dream palace on the mountain to replace their small house.

Their goals are redefined when Clay Jr. is the first Spencer to ever graduate from high school at the top of his class. He wants to continue his education so he won’t have to work in the quarry like his father, but money is issue. Clay Jr.’s teacher, Miss Parker, and the newly arrived Preacher Goodman, do what they can to help him achieve his goal.

An engaging, yet simple movie, but here are my similarities. Dad promised to build mom their dream house, but due to financial difficulties, it never happened. I went to college to become an architect (they helped and I paid the rest), the Tetons are my favorite place to visit and I was once offered a principal’s position in nearby Jackson (which I turned down when I found they had the lowest income and the highest cost of living in the state). I was the first on Dad’s side of the family to graduate college. I live by Clay Sr.’s moral code, though up until I met the Bride I wasn’t much of a churchgoer. I was inspired to read and write by teachers who took an interest me. Clay and I love to fish, especially for trout, and like him, I don’t mind a drink or two…

So, did that movie become the foundation for my life, like the often-seen framing structure of the Spencer house? Did that story spark an interest in becoming an author? Houses and the land are always significant items in every book I write. Hummm….

Before we recline on the couch while a doctor lights a pipe and takes notes, let’s look at another significant movie in my life, Junior Bonner.

One of Director Sam Peckinpah’s lesser successful novels, this rodeo picture skewed me into an entirely different direction the year I graduated in 1972.

Junior Bonner is an almost over the hill rodeo rider. He first appears on the screen taping his injuries after an unsuccessful ride on an ornery bull named Sunshine. He returns to his home town to ride at the annual Fourth of July Prescott rodeo in Arizona to find his brother Curly, a disreputable real-estate developer, is bulldozing the family home in order to build a trailer park. Junior’s womanizing father Ace, and down-to-earth, long-suffering mother, Elvira, are estranged. Ace dreams of emigrating to Australia for once last chance at finding his fortune, but he’s broke.

Junior eventually floors his arrogant brother with a punch and bribes rodeo owner Buck Roan to again let him ride the bull that broke his ribs, promising him half the prize money. Buck thinks he must be crazy, but Junior actually manages to pull it off this time, going the full eight seconds.

Junior walks into a travel agent’s office and buys his father a one-way, first-class ticket to Australia, asking for it to be delivered with the line, “Tell ‘em Junior sent you.” The film’s final shot shows Junior leaving his hometown, his successful ride on Sunshine continuing to put off the inevitable end of his rodeo career.

After seeing that movie a couple of times, I launched a brief, unsuccessful rodeo career that ended when a doctor taped my own ribs after being thrown (familiar, huh?). “You need to find another job, kid. You’re not too good at this one.”

The  movie, Junior Bonner, also taught me pacing, style, dialogue, and action. There are tiny moments in that film that have made their way into my work. If you haven’t seen it, buy the blue ray and listen to the comments, especially about a scene involving a typewriter. It’s an education in filming, directing, and character motivation.

I think both of these films helped me see my work cinematically as it progresses through the evolution of a manuscript. Reviewers often comment that my novels have a cinematic quality, and the comes from watching well-crafted movies.

You won’t get that with today’s super hero pablum.

What I am good at is collecting ideas and writing, and I have the feeling those movies, experiences, teachers, mentors and friends have all guided me toward my success. Oh, and don’t forget those early books I read like The Old Man and the Boy by Robert Ruark.

Now that book truly did change my life and sparked a dream to write novels.

The Two-Ton Albatross by William C. Anderson, Nothing Lasts Forever by Roderick Thorp (eventually filmed as Die Hard), Leaving Cheyenne by Larry McMurtry, and Recollection Creek by Fred Gipson, and dozens, if not hundreds more, established a solid path to writing.

So the question is to published and budding authors alike. Do you have a movie or book, or a combination of both, that sent you on this interesting and frustrating road?

Oh, and I have a follow up. Is there a movie, or book, that mirrors your life?

“Don’t say ‘Hollywood’. It’ll mark you as a rank amateur or a media flake, not as a working professional. Hollywood is more like a concept, a has-been idea, than an actual production place. You’re best to say, ‘the LA-based film industry’.”

I heard those words when I ventured into film content producing. They weren’t to put me down. Rather, they were to build me up and help me break into a world I had no experience with—the film industry—and understand how important a film “treatment” is.

I think every novel writer’s dream is to see their work on the screen. At least mine was. When I wrote my first novel, I so saw it in the movies that “as the camera sees it” was my guiding light. Did it make the movies? No. Not yet.

But, my ten years of plugging along in this writing biz taught me a few things. Perseverance. Craft knowledge. Networking. And experimenting in different mediums, including screenwriting.

I’m now immersed in four film content producing projects. They keep me occupied and energized. I’m learning a lot of new stuff including how to build a “Hollywood” film treatment.

The film industry has its jargon. Logline. Tagline. Teasers. Shopping Rights. Pitch. Option. Purchase. Green Lit. Fade in. Fade out. Roll A. Roll B. Scripted. Non-scripted. Those sorts of things. But, one term I think really important for wanna-be screenwriters to understand is Treatment.

In the film industry—whether LA-based, Vancouver-based, New York-based, London-based, or Toronto-based—producers have one common problem. It’s not funding or filming. It’s finding decent (saleable) content.

Like book publishers, film producers constantly seek decent (saleable) content. They say every Barista in “Hollywood” has a screenplay for sale. Probably true, but how many are saleable?

Film producers, like book publishers, have only so much time. They’re bombarded with screenplay submissions and can’t read them all. So, the film industry has a thing similar to a book publisher’s synopsis. In the film-biz, they’re called treatments. Treatments are a structured itemization of the screenplay that stop short of going to the work of an actual script written on speculation.

Here’s a film treatment I developed for The Fatal Shot. The storyline is based on a true crime case I investigated,. It’s a similar plot to the 1984 film The Burning Bed starring Farrah Fawcett.

Because of an effective treatment, The Fatal Shot is now optioned for screenplay buildout. Whether it gets green lit, who knows. At least the pitch was purchased and it’s out there, being shopped around Hollywood..

I hope you folks at the Kill Zone gain some insight into the film industry’s screenplay submission process through this treatment example. Don’t we all want to see our stories played out on the screen?

THE FATAL SHOT — FILM TREATMENT

Working Title

The Fatal Shot

Central Story Question

Who fired the fatal shot?

Logline

A battered woman charged with killing her abusive husband faces tremendous obstacles by defending herself and her children against bureaucratic criminal and social service systems. (Based on an actual incident—a true crime story.)

Tagline

“She fought her husband… now she fights the system.”

Theme

Domestic Abuse – Intimate Partner Violence – Child Protection and Apprehension – Homicide Trial – Jury Deliberations – Battered Woman Syndrome Defense

Location

Set in the American Pacific Northwest at the village of Clearwater and city of Port Townsend in Jefferson County, Washington State, on the Olympic Peninsula.

Era

Current – modern day.

Duration

18 months from inciting incident to denouement.

Protagonist

Deeana (Dee) Finnigan — 28-year-old wife and mother of boy 10 and girl 8.

Antagonists

Lyle (Finn) Finnigan — 31-year-old husband and children’s father.

Society — portrayed through dysfunctional bureaucratic structure and incompetent representatives of the criminal justice and social service systems.

Brief Storyline

Deeana Finnigan suffers 11 years of domestic terror at the fists, boots, mind, mouth, wallet, and penis of her husband, Lyle (Finn) Finnigan. Their children, Logan (age 10) and Millie (age 8), witness a deteriorating marriage and escalating violence.

Finn is on the run from a Seattle drug gang he’s double-crossed as well as arrest warrants for narcotics trafficking. He hides the family in a cramped cabin near the remote village of Clearwater on the west coast of Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula.

On a cold winter night, Finn returns to the cabin drunk. Dee’s made mac & cheese along with wieners for supper. There’s little else to eat in the place. Finn and Dee argue over the meal. Finn slaps Dee and grinds hot food into her face. He knees Dee and puts the boots to her on the floor. Logan and Millie cower in a corner, watching. Finn is enraged. He takes a rifle and threatens to shoot the family. Finn then drags Dee to the bedroom. He rapes Dee and passes out cold.

Dee’s finally had enough. She takes the rifle and shoots Finn while he’s unconscious. The first shot badly wounds Finn in the face, blowing off his lower jaw. He wakes and tries to get at her. Dee reloads to shoot Finn again. The rifle jams. Finn is incapacitated due to shock and blood loss. Dee gets Logan’s help to find another rifle and finish Finn off. Dee takes Logan and Millie to a neighbor’s house and calls the police. They’re taken to the Jefferson County seat at Port Townsend.

Investigation determines three shots were fired. One bullet got Finn in the jaw. One missed. One fatally struck Finn in the back. Dee states she fired all shots. She claims self-defense—shooting Finn to ultimately protect herself and her children from what she knows is looming, certain death. The investigators doubt Dee fired the fatal shot and believe Logan did—Dee is covering up to protect Logan. The District Attorney rejects Dee’s self defense stance. He takes the position Dee had plenty of opportunity to take the kids, leave, and have authorities intervene as the police and social systems dictate.

Dee is charged with second-degree (non-capital) murder and faces life imprisonment. She’s represented by the public defender. Dee can’t make bail. She’s half Native Indian from a Canadian reserve and considered an international flight risk. Dee remains in custody awaiting trial. Logan and Millie are apprehended by social services and made wards of the state. They’re placed in a foster home. Because the police and DA are trying to establish who fired the fatal shot to Finn’s back, a no-contact order is placed between Dee and her kids.

Dee sinks to despair. She attempts to hang herself in jail. At her lowest point, Dee undergoes a catharsis. She’s mentored by a female jail guard. They work on upgrading Dee’s education and communication skills. Slowly, Dee builds confidence. She begins to fight for what she truly wants—justice, freedom, and her children’s welfare. Dee pushes the system. And the system pushes back.

The DA hands Dee a bargain—plead guilty to manslaughter with five years in prison. The public defender wants to run a temporary insanity defense. Dee refuses both offers. She stands her ground. Dee maintains she was forced to kill Finn in ultimately protecting herself and her children, all the while denying that Logan fired the fatal shot which would have had her acquitted of murder. Years of continuous spousal battering, plus a justice and social system failing to aid her, placed Dee in a mind state where she had no option—it was kill—or eventually be killed.

The State Child Protective Services assign a spiteful social worker to oversee Dee’s children. A court application rules Logan and Millie aren’t allowed to visit Dee in jail. Dee learns the kids are being bounced between homes. Now they’re in a facility run by questionable hosts. With her jail guard’s help, Dee turns to the media.

Dee’s plight attracts intense public interest. Advocates from women’s groups surround Dee. They use the power of mainstream, internet, and social media to raise awareness of Dee’s case. Sympathizers work to crowdfund money for a competent legal defense. From jail, Dee quickly becomes a sensational face for battered women and children’s’ rights.

The criminal justice and social service systems throw continuous obstacles at Dee’s struggle to regain her children and freedom. Her private advocates are an enormous support. They find a top legal team who are passionate about the “Battered Woman Syndrome”. All work with Dee to shape that portrayal.

But as the prosecution and defense build their cases, disturbing details rise from Dee’s past. What she’s hidden, and what new evidence investigators uncover, are devastating. Rumors leak out. Stories spread. Some of Dee’s friends become foes.

After 18 months, Dee’s case goes to trial. Testimony is dramatic and unexpected. A torn jury faces forcing the law as it stands or conceding to humanity as it exists. Their decision comes down to one recurring question—not who fired the fatal shot—but why didn’t Dee just pack up the kids and leave before things became fatal? The answer lies in the Battered Woman Syndrome.

The jury struggles between wants of the system and needs of the individual. They see an enormous precedent being set with the Battered Woman Syndrome defense becoming open season on abusive men. Jurors also doubt Dee’s credibility about who fired the fatal shot into Finn. By now, most suspect Dee coerced Logan and is covering up.

Deliberations are lengthy. They hotly debate application of the law, validity of the Battered Woman Syndrome, and the parameters of self-defense. Two camps form in the jury room. Those who see the law as black and white. Those who see many shades of gray.

Overall, the jury sympathizes with Dee. They show empathy for her state of mind at the moment of the killing and her family situation. Unanimously, the jury directs an acquittal.

Dee is freed. Logan and Millie are returned. The verdict is appealed and upheld. Dee settles into a new life with her kids. She parlays her experience into helping other battered women and their children around the world.

Recurring Story Questions

Why didn’t Dee just leave? And why cover up for Logan when, at 10-years-old, he can’t be prosecuted and Dee could easily be freed?

Human Issue

The story explores Dee Finnigan’s character change from hopeless submission as a battered wife to ultimate triumph by taking defensive action against overwhelming legal and social obstacles.

Stakes

Dee’s life. Her personal freedom. Her children’s future. Worldwide precedent for the Battered Woman Syndrome legal defense. Long-term education and assistance to other victims of domestic violence.

Protagonist Character Arc

The story opens showing Deeana Finnigan displaying all the classic battered woman characteristics that come from learned helplessness. Dee is terrified of Finn but, in her mind, has nowhere to run. To survive, she’s submissive and does everything to keep from setting Finn off. Dee has poor self-esteem. She self-loathes and feels worthless. Dee’s weak mentally, physically, and spiritually. Still, she’s ultimately protective of the only thing that really matters to her in life—her children.

After experiencing the horror of Finn beating her in front of their kids, coming within a trigger’s pull of killing them, and then being sexually violated, Dee reaches an emotional plateau where she lies on the bed in desperation. She floats toward a sense of calmness and makes the decision to kill Finn.

Inwardly, Dee experiences peace. Outwardly, she’s shaking so bad that she can’t hold the rifle. Her limited control turns to chaos when Finn is wounded and claws to get at her. Terror, horror, and panic overpower Dee. Her thought process breaks, and she reacts instinctively to have Finn finished off.

Once Finn is dead, Dee is filled with relief. Her thought patterns return, and she focuses on her children’s welfare. Finn is no longer a threat, and she knows she’ll survive. Mentally, Dee makes plans for their future. She cooperates in the investigation. Dee is convinced she’s totally justified in shooting Finn. It never occurs to her the authorities would view otherwise.

Dee is incredulous when she’s arrested and charged for murder. In her eyes, killing Finn was the only recourse available to prevent her own death and her children’s demise. Her internal relief and elation at Finn being eliminated quickly ends when she’s locked up, denied bail, and loses her son and daughter to the “system”.

In total despair and at rock bottom, Dee tries hanging herself in her cell. A jail matron intervenes. This turning point lets Dee reach a catharsis or “venting the tank”. With help from the matron and advocates found through social media attention, Dee finds a progressive legal team who take on her case. The “Battered Woman Syndrome” is their card, and they play it hard.

Dee’s world view changes while she’s incarcerated, defending herself and her family as “the system” plays out. She remains steadfast in regaining custody of her son and daughter. This conflicts with her refusal to agree to a lesser charge and gain early release. Dee gambles on taking the high road for the long haul, gradually realizing that true justice will pay greater rewards than short-term compromise.

Dee also realizes greater forces are emerging, and she’s now serving a role for educating and inspiring abused women and their children. She understands the historical legal precedent she’s setting by invoking the “Battered Woman Syndrome” defense. A greater purpose drives Dee’s will to survive, be set free, create legal history, and share her story in helping other families with domestic abuse issues.

Dee experiences betrayal and disappointing setbacks when damaging information surfaces about her past. She is devastated but reacts by facing them, not denying her foes. Dee develops in inner confidence that she’ll be vindicated. Her belief in ultimate victory becomes unshakable, and her will to win is unstoppable. She finds inner peace through self-examination rather than religious redemption which is offered in spades.

Once Dee is acquitted, she shows class. She is gracious with gratitude, appreciate of all, and reflective about moving forward to help others.

The issue of who fired the fatal shot—Dee or Logan—is never resolved.

Protagonist Emotional Range/Arc

Weak – Submissive – Scared – Helpless – Self-loathing – Worthless – Protective of Children – Terrified – Enraged – Shocked – Relieved – Confused – Sickened – Trapped – Despair – Suicidal – Catharsis – Redemption – Hope – Will to Survive – Succeed – Encouraged – Inspired – Intent – Toughness – Fight – Focus – Will to Win – Betrayed – Disappointed – Nervous – Courageous – Confident – Triumphant – Gracious – Thankful – Appreciative – Reflective

Character Cast

Family and Associates:

Deeana (Dee) Finnigan — Protagonist and battered woman – jailed and tried for murder

Lyle (Finn) Finnigan — Antagonist and wife beater – shot and killed

Logan Finnigan — Son, age 10

Millie Finnigan — Daughter, age 8

Ramona Robinson — Dee’s twin sister

Andrea Sparrow — Dee’s close friend from the Canadian reserve

Valerie (Val) Bonamassa — Dee’s friend in Seattle

Muriel Finnigan — Finn’s mother – Dee’s mother-in-law

Linton Finnigan — Finn’s brother – Dee’s brother-in-law

Louise Labee, nee Finnigan — Finn’s sister – Dee’s sister-in-law

Barton (Black Bart) Smythe — Seattle Drug Gang Enforcer and DEA Informant

Police & Forensics:

Detective Alvin (Al) Kangas — Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office

Detective Stacy Rooke — Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office

Sheriff Hendrik (Hank) DeVries — Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office

Officer Patricia (Patty) Lloyd — Forensic Investigator, Washington State Patrol Crime Scene Response Team (CSRT)

Coroner Heather Tamagotchi — Jefferson County Coroner’s Office

Moses (Uzi) Galil — Seattle DEA Agent and Informant Handler

Criminal Justice System

C. Mitchell Dowd — District Attorney, Jefferson County

Jonathon Boatwright — Prosecuting Attorney, Jefferson County

Melissa Steele — Assistant Prosecutor, Jefferson County

Wallace Froude — Public Defender, Jefferson County

Emily Coulson — Lead Trial Defense Lawyer

Duncan Campbell-Elliot — Assistant Trial Defense Lawyer

Judge Morris Fish — Presiding Jury Trial Judge

Dr. Margaret Barr — Battered Woman Syndrome Expert Witness

“Margo” — Jail Guard Matron / Dee’s Mentor

Social System

Annie Lambert — Social Worker

Care Serene — Social Worker

Grace & Greer Grimsby — Foster Care Hosts

Karla Truman — Social Service Adjudicator

Media & Advocates

Ellen Capier — Port Townsend News Reporter

Rachel Vanstone — Women’s Abuse Social Media Leader & Primary Advocate

Cynne Simpson — TV Talk Show Moderator

Jennifer (Jenny) O’Donnell — Seattle TV Reporter

Gerald Gideon — Seattle Radio Reporter

Nathan Rott — NPR Investigative Reporter

Audrey Washington — CNN Investigative Reporter

Reverends John & Isobel Burke-Gaffney — Evangelists from the Reformed Baptist Church

Maria Mercedes Hernandez — Online Feminist Advocate

Nikki Daum — Native Indian Representative

Anastasia Lee — Crowdfund Organizer

Jury

12 Members Referred to as Nicknames Given by Court Staff.

“Kay” — Court Bailiff and Jury Messenger

Episode Structure

Episode One — Beating and Finn’s Death

Episode Two — Charge/Arrest

Episode Three — Children Apprehended

Episode Four — Suicide Attempt

Episode Five — Legal Adversaries

Episode Six — Black Bart

Episode Seven — Exposing Dee

Episode Eight — Trial Proceeds

Episode Nine — Retire to Deliberate

Episode Ten — Verdict and Denouement Message

Kill Zoners — Help yourself to this film treatment format. It’s not universal in the business, but it worked for me to get an option purchase.

Questions—Who out there has worked in the film industry, and who wants to? Who’s familiar with treatments, and who wants to write (or has written) a film treatment to shop their work around “Hollywood”?

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?

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone

The English actor Edmund Keane, on his deathbed, was heard to remark, “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard.”

In the same vein, I’ve always averred that beginnings are easy. Endings are hard. I can write opening chapters all day long. But to stick a novel after it, keep readers turning pages, and then wrap it up in such a way that it leaves them so supremely satisfied they go out looking for more of my books…that’s the hard part.

I’m fond of quoting Mickey Spillane’s admonition: “The first chapter sells the book. The last chapter sells the next book.” That’s why I wrote an entire tome on the art and craft of unforgettable endings.

Today I want to talk about process. Because with each novel I learn a little more about this incredible, wonderful craft of ours, always looking for tweaks to my approach. I’m thinking about that as I get ready to write the last scenes of my next Mike Romeo thriller. Specifically, I’m learning again the value of brooding—giving time to my mind to ponder, create, devise.

As an outliner, I always have an ending in mind when I start writing. It is subject to change without notice, of course. The exact details will have to be worked out. But the characters involved, the stakes, and the feeling I want to achieve are there.

I watch this scene in the movie theater of my mind.

Now I’m at the place in my WIP where Romeo is about to engage in a final battle with high stakes—the highest so far for my hero.

Here is where I slow down to brood.

For the last three weeks, even as I’ve been writing toward the end, I’ve spent time away from the keyboard just to think about that scene and the choreography of it. For everything to work, the setting is crucial. I know where it’s going to happen—at a particular spot in L.A. (shocker!).

I’ve spent a good deal of time on Google Maps to get the broad lay of the land.

I’ve driven to the location, taken pictures, and revised some details. (I like to use real locations in my books, though I reserve the right to tweak and even make things up as needed!)

I know exactly what I want to happen, and it’s starting to excite me.

That’s key. If the ending doesn’t excite me how is it going to excite the reader?

But as the scene has become more vivid, I’ve encountered some problems. This is a good thing. Overcoming plot problems is one of the skills we need to develop as writers. I’ve come to believe that any problem can be overcome if you give it enough time.

My problems included the right weaponry (how does Mike get what he needs?), the presence of police (how does the final battle happen with cops all around?), and the terrain (people on the street, cars, buildings).

For each one I did more research, watching the scene again as a movie in my mind. The nice thing about being a writer is that you don’t have to spend money on expensive re-shoots. A studio won’t shut down your production.

Brooding lets the Boys in the Basement do their work. I’ll be going about my non-writing business, even just sitting in a chair reading a book, when the Boys send up a note with an insight or a possibility. (I’ve got to remember to send them some donuts.)

I test every change by asking if it makes me more excited. If so, it stays in.

The last—and to me, the most important element—is resonance. Resonance is the very last note you leave with the reader. Like the perfect ending to a Beethoven symphony, it lingers with you long after the concert is over. That’s why the last page of my novel is always the one I work on most.

Remember that great opening scene in Romancing the Stone? The romance writer (Kathleen Turner) is typing her ending, which is shown onscreen. When we cut to her at the keyboard, she has just finished and is weeping copious tears. Her ending has captured her as if it were real life (which, in the film, it soon will be!)

“No tears in the writer,” wrote Robert Frost, “no tears in the reader.”

So brood. Watch. Edit. Brood some more. Then write those last pages for all they’re worth.

What is your approach to writing the ending of your novel? When do you know you’ve really nailed it?

Oh yes! If you’d like to get in on the ground floor of the Romeo series, the first book, Romeo’s Rules, is now 99¢ on Kindle for a limited time. Order here.

Outside the U.S., go to your Amazon store and search for: B015OXVAQ0