Category Archives: #writetips

Immersion Technique #WriteTip

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Every character is the hero of their own story. Even the villain.

We’ve talked many times about the importance of fleshing out characters. This time let’s reframe the narrative for those who may not grasp the finer details of crafting a compelling villain.

It’s easy to tell a fellow writer to slip into the villain’s skin and view the world through their eyes—I’ve given the same advice—but for those who haven’t mastered characterization, it may not be enough.

  • How does one craft a killer when they’ve never committed a crime?
  • How can we champion a villain’s efforts with no real-world experience?

Sure, we can draw conclusions and make assumptions. Is that enough for readers?

  • Is there a way to pull from life experience, to really feel what it’s like to transform into somebody else?

Yes, there is. And it’s called immersion. Method actors use the same technique.

The dictionary defines immersion as “deep mental involvement.” It can also mean engagement, as in a mixture of how much you’re paying attention, how submerged you are in an experience, and how it affects you emotionally.

Immersion, whether real or imagined, taps into fundamental psychological principles like perception, emotional engagement, and the sense of presence. It involves a combination of sensory stimuli, cognitive engagement, and emotional resonance that creates a feeling of being completely absorbed in the experience.

Immersive experiences are rich and complex, drawing upon personal experiences, and engage with emotions through the manipulation of the five senses. They’re described as transformational, intense, sometimes hectic, and provoking.

What we see tells us a lot about the world around us, but what the body experiences is much more powerful.

How we immerse ourselves in a life unlike our own starts with walking in their shoes. Listen to the villain’s favorite music. Eat their favorite foods. View the world through their eyes.

  • What’s their culture like?
  • What’s their theme song?
  • What’s their religion, politics, and views on other hot topics?
  • Do they like the rain? Cold weather? Scorching hot sun?
  • Are they happy with where they live? Or have they been trying to escape the area for years?
  • What do they do for a living? Do they have buddies at work?
  • Are they body conscious and drink water all day? Or do they drink black coffee till noon, then switch to scotch?
  • Do they smoke? I’m not proposing you start smoking but you can pretend.

Even if the character’s actions rub against your values and beliefs, you must find at least one redeeming quality, or at least be able to empathize with a part of them.

Take Ed Kemper, for example. His mother was a severe alcoholic who favored his two sisters and never missed the chance to belittle him. Ed’s father, a World War II veteran, hated his wife. The couple divorced when Ed was still in grammar school.

Living with his mother was no picnic. She locked him in the cellar for days and/or weeks at a time—alone—a bare lightbulb hanging from a wire in the center of the dark and creepy space. Since the door locked from the outside, the only way out was through a trap door beneath the dining room table.

Trapped, Ed lay on the cold cement floor staring into the flame of the furnace. And it was then, he later told an FBI profiler, he saw the face of the Devil for the first time. That period of his life exacerbated his already fractured mind.

Later, at age 14, his father sent him to live with his grandparents in California. Interestingly, Maude (grandmother) was an extra in Gone with the Wind and a writer for Redbook McCall’s. Even so, Ed hated living there, calling his grandfather “senile” and his grandmother, well, this is how he described her…

“She thought she had more balls than any man and was constantly emasculating me and my grandfather to prove it. I couldn’t please her. It was like being in jail. I became a walking time bomb, and I finally blew.”

And blew he did, with the murder of his grandparents. Authorities sent him to Atascadero State Hospital, a maximum-security facility where doctors subjected him to various tests. One of which illuminated his genius IQ. They also diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic.

In the six years he spent at the institution, he became one of the doctors’ favorite patients. They even allowed him to assist in conducting tests on other inmates, until 1969 when they released him into his mother’s care.

Big mistake. At 6 ft. 9 inches tall and 250 pounds, Ed was a mammoth with a genius IQ and a rage inside him.

After killing and decapitating six young women, he finally turned his wrath on Mother—the true source of his hatred—murdering, decapitating, and using her head as a dartboard. He also tore out Mother’s vocal cords and shoved them down the garbage disposal. When the disposal spat the gristly innards back out, he said to himself,

“That seems appropriate as much as she’d bitched and screamed and yelled at me over so many years.”

With his personal monster dead, Ed turned himself into police. He had no reason to kill anymore. He’s lived at California Medical Facility in Vacaville ever since. As a model inmate, he’s allowed to work as an audiobook narrator.

If Ed Kemper was a fictional villain, how would you make him the hero of his own story?

We’d need to focus on the abused little boy, alone and frightened, that still cried inside him and the personable guy who doctors adored. Does that mean I agree with what he did? Absolutely not. But as writers, we must find a way to justify his actions. We must. Otherwise, the villain will fall flat.

Now, don’t tell the reader what redeeming qualities you clung to while writing. Show them a tidbit here and there—just enough to pique curiosity and drive the plot—that make him feel more human. Or let the hero figure it out on their own.

If the villain is a series character, only reveal enough to intrigue and drive the plot. I did this with my serial killer named Mayhem. In three books, I showed him as a merciless serial killer. I also showed his love of animals, especially his sidekick Poe, the crow, and how tender he could be when caring for a wife stricken with ALS and his close relationship with his daughter and grandson.

Mayhem loves fine wine and is an expert chef, but he’s offended by bad language and numerous other things, especially rapists, cannibals, and child killers. Readers fell in love with Mayhem. Deeply in love. So much so, I had to transform him into an antihero in later books.

Readers understand, even champion, why he kills.

We did the same with Dexter. Who didn’t love to watch him murder other serial killers? Genius on Lindsay’s part.

Find a different angle for your villain. Copycats aren’t unique or memorable. Villains are some of the most difficult characters to craft because they do bad things. I also find villains and antiheroes the most rewarding to write.

The next time you craft a character vastly different from yourself, try immersion. It works for the entire cast, including heroes, sidekicks, foils, secondary characters, etc.

Hooking the Reader Words of Wisdom

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“You ever killed anything?” Roy asked. (Dean Koontz, Voice of the Night)

The car was just sitting there, its hazard lights blinking like beacons in the darkness. (P.J. Parrish, Paint it Black)

I was talking to a woman about flowers when John the Baptist blew up. (James Scott Bell, Romeo’s Rules)

An opening line like the ones above grabs the reader and pulls them into the story. The hook at the end of the chapter propels the reader forward, making them turn to the page to find out what happens next. Yet another hook is the book description itself, which gets the reader hooked into opening the novel to read that first line.

In today’s Words of Wisdom, Kathleen Pickering discusses favorite opening hook techniques, Nancy Cohen tackles end of chapter hooks and Jodie Renner looks at how to hook the reader with a book description. The full posts are date-linked from their respective excerpts. Afterwards, I’ll have a few questions as fuel for our discussion.

Hooks–so many types! Of the various suggested techniques, I’ve listed my five favorite hooks below.

  1. Three-Pronged Hook. This is a wonderful approach using three sentences to pull the reader deeper into the story.

Here are three, expertly crafted Three-Pronged Hooks:

“I sleep with the dead. I don’t remember the first time I did it and try not to think about why. It’s just something I do.”  (In the Arms of Stone Angels, by Jordan Dane)

Or:

“Two Whom It May Concern: My name is Wilfred Leland James and this is my confession. In June of 1922 I murdered my wife, Arlette Christina Winters James, and hid her body by tupping it down an old well. My son, Henry Freeman James aided me in this crime, although at 14 he was not responsible; I cozened him into it, playing upon his fears and beating down his quite normal objections over a period of 2 months.” (Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King)

Or:

“The boy stood naked in the middle of the road. Sam Hall’s headlights caught him there, frozen in position, like a deer. He was covered in something slick and it dripped down his flesh.”  (The Evil Inside, by Heather Graham)

Makes you want to read more, yes? You’ll also see that expertly composed hooks manage to combine techniques to create a masterful atmosphere. With hooks created by the guest authors I’ve featured here today, if readers were fish, they’d be jumping into the boat.

  1. Startle Hooks.These hooks capture audiences quickly because the readers can’t quite believe what they’ve just read (like those hooks above). Folks will keep reading to discover what is really going on. Another example, and shameless plug, is in Mythological Sam-The Call, where Sam Wilson starts the first chapter with a surreal visual:

“I steer around the bend and my breath catches in my throat. A hideous, mythological hydra suspends across the bay, clawing each shore with twin, snarling heads straining towards the sky.” (Mythological Sam-The Call by Kathleen Pickering.

Couldn’t help but include myself here, especially in such good company, but  I hope you’ll agree that no normal dude driving along the road is going to see a snarling, mythological beast where a bridge is supposed to be. I’d like to think the startle factor will keep the audience reading to learn what’s really happening.

  1. Describe a personality and elicit emotion.  See how a master handles this one:

“Myron lay sprawled next to a knee-knockingly gorgeous brunette clad only in a Class-B-felony bikini, a tropical drink sans umbrella in one hand, the aqua clear Caribbean water lapping at his feet, the sand a dazzling white powder, the sky a pure blue that could only be God’s blank canvas, the sun as soothing and rich as a Swedish masseur with a snifter of cognac, and he was intensely miserable.” (The Final Detail, by Harlan Coben).

Superbly done. (Applauding from my chair!) This hook flashes Myron as a law enforcer of high caliber who knows danger, attracts sexy women, lives life like a hedonist and is bored out of his gourd, eliciting both envy and concern from the reader over a intriguing personality. All done in one sentence. Amazing.

  1. Establish a Setting. Mr. Coben also combines setting into the above hook, so I will cite the same quote. While establishing a setting is a gentler hook, when professionally cast as Coben has done, the results reel readers in hook, line and sinker. (I just know you were waiting for me to use that cliché!)
  2. Introduce the Main Character. This hook is most effective when working with character driven plots, especially if the author is establishing a series with a particular character. Here, F. Paul Wilson’s character, Repairman Jack, has developed a cult-like following by portraying a darkly dangerous Jack with a quirky yet endearing, under-the-radar life style.

“Jack looked around the front room of his apartment and figured he was either going to have to move to a bigger place, or stop buying stuff. He had nowhere to put his new Daddy Warbucks lamp.” (Conspiracies – Repairman Jack Series, by F. Paul Wilson)

Kathleen Pickering—September 27, 2011

 

Creating a hook at the end of a chapter encourages readers to turn the page to find out what happens next in your story. What works well are unexpected revelations, wherein an important plot point is offered or a secret exposed; cliffhanger situations in which your character is in physical danger; or a decision your character makes that affects story momentum. Also useful are promises of a sexual tryst, arrival of an important secondary character, or a puzzling observation that leaves your reader wondering what it means.

It’s important to stay in viewpoint because otherwise you’ll lose immediacy, and this will throw your reader out of the story. For example, your heroine is shown placing a perfume atomizer into her purse while thinking to herself: “Before the day was done, I’d wish it had been a can of pepper spray instead.”

This character is looking back from future events rather than experiencing the present. As a reader, you’ve lost the sense of timing that holds you to her viewpoint. You’re supposed to see what she sees and hear what she hears, so how can you see what hasn’t yet come to pass?

Foreshadowing is desirable because it heightens tension, but it can be done using more subtle techniques while staying within the character’s point of view.

Stick to the present, and end your chapter with a hook that stays in character.

Here are some examples from Permed to Death, my first mystery novel. These hooks are meant to be page turners:

“This was her chance to finally bury the mistake she’d made years ago. Gritting her teeth, she pulled onto the main road and headed east.” (Important Decision)

“There’s something you should know. He had every reason to want my mother dead.” (Revelation)

“Her heart pounding against her ribs, she grabbed her purse and dashed out of her town house. Time was of the essence. If she was right, Bertha was destined to have company in her grave.” (Character in Jeopardy)

“She allowed oblivion to sweep her into its comforting depths.” (Physical Danger)

Personal decisions that have risky consequences can also be effective. For example, your heroine decides to visit her boyfriend’s aunt against his wishes. She risks losing his affection but believes what she’s doing is right. Suspense heightens as the reader turns the page to see if the hero misinterprets her actions. Or have the hero in a thriller make a dangerous choice, wherein he puts someone he cares about in jeopardy no matter what he decides. Or his decision is an ethical one with no good coming from either choice. What are the consequences? End of chapter. Readers must keep on track to find out what happens next.

To summarize, here’s a quick list of chapter endings that will spur your reader to keep the night light burning:

  1. Decision
    2. Danger
    3. Revelation
    4. Another character’s unexpected arrival
    5. Emotional turning point
    6. Puzzle
    7. Sex

Nancy Cohen—April 9, 2014

BACK COVER COPY

Your back cover copy or book description is the biggest deciding factor for readers picking up your book for the first time. Not only does it have to be enticing and polished, but it has to strike at the heart of your actual story, hint at the genre and tone, and incite curiosity among the readers, to compel them to open the book and read the first page (which, as you know, is also critically important).

Your back cover copy or book description needs to:

– Grab readers’ attention – in a good way

– Incite curiosity about this book

– Tell us roughly what the story is about

– Give an indication of the genre and tone of the book

– Introduce us to the main character and his goal

– Tell us the protagonist’s main problem or dilemma

– Leave us wanting to find out more

James Scott Bell (Yes, TKZ’s beloved Sunday columnist and writing guru) gives us a great template for writing strong, compelling back cover copy in his excellent book, Plot & Structure.

Jim’s outline is a perfect jumping-off point for creating your own book description.

Paragraph 1: Your main character’s name and her current situation:

__________________ is a ________________ who ___________________________________.

Write one or two more sentences, describing something of the character’s background and current world.

Paragraph 2: Start with Suddenly or But when. Fill in the major turning point, the event that threatens the character, disrupts his world and forces him to take action. Add two or three more sentences about what happens next.

“But his world is turned upside down when…”

Paragraph 3: Start with Now and make it an action sentence, for example, “Now (name) must struggle with….”

Or use a question or two starting with Will: Will (name) be able to….? Or will she….? And will these events….?

Then add a final sentence that is pure marketing, like “(Title) is a riveting…. novel about …. that will …you…till the … twist at the end.

Now polish it up, making sure every word counts and you’ve used the best possible word for each situation. Aim for about 250-500 words in total.

There are of course many other ways to grab your readers in your book description, but be sure to use the main character’s name and hint at the threat that has upset his world and the obstacles he needs to overcome to win, survive or defeat evil, and right wrongs. And leave the readers with a question, to pique their curiosity and propel them into the story.

Then, if there’s space, you could squeeze in a great blurb or two, or a short author bio.

Jodie Renner—July 13, 2021

***

  1. Do you have a favorite type of opening hook to grab the reader? How do you come up with one?
  2. Which sort of end of chapter hook (AKA “mini-cliffhangers”) have you used? How much do you focus on them when revising your novel?
  3. What do you think of Jodie’s elements of an effective book description? Anything to add?
  4. Do you have any books or other resources you’ve found helpful in coming up with hooks?

Dialogue Words of Wisdom

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Along with narrative, dialogue is the lifeblood of fiction, and today’s Words of Wisdom presents advice on this crucial subject. First, Elaine Viets offers tips on writing realistic dialogue. Then, Joddie Renner gives advice on dialogue tags. Finally, James Scott Bell presents a terrific “random dialogue exercise” to take our dialogue in unexpected directions. The original posts are date-linked from their respective excerpts. Afterwards, I’ll have a few questions as additional fodder for today’s discussion.

(1) Listen to How People Talk

Go to a bar, restaurant or a coffee shop or a McDonald’s and listen to conversations. I love to eavesdrop on conversations. They help me pick up the rhythm of real speech – and sometimes I hear things I can use. Like the man at the bar who talked to his friend about how to kill his wife. They discussed various fatal scenarios until he finally concluded that he should “accidently” push her radio off the shelf into water when she was in the tub. I was about to call the police when I realized the two men were plotting a novel.

(2) Don’t be too realistic

People say “uh,” and “er” and rarely speak perfectly. They interrupt one another. You need to make your dialogue believable without making it absolutely realistic.

(3) Beware of stereotypes and accents

If your character speaks with an accent, point it out for a sentence or two: He spoke with a heavy Russian accent – but don’t make your readers wade through it for pages.

(4) Cut the small talk

You don’t need all those hellos and good-byes. Normally, they add nothing to the story. If your scene starts with a wife coming home from work and it begins this way:

“Hi,” she said.

“How are you?” he asked. “How was your day?”

Skip the hellos and start with “How was your day?” And let us know if the couple kiss. That could be a key to their marriage.

(5) Break up the dialogue with action

If two characters are talking over breakfast, have them pour syrup on their pancakes, sugar their coffee and cut up their bacon between sentences.

(6) Avoid dialogue tags

She sputtered. He chortled. She raged. He observed. She exclaimed. He interjected. She purred. These are all dialogue tags. Now forget them.

Dialogue tags attribute a line of dialogue to one or other of the characters, so that the reader always knows who is speaking. Tags should be invisible.

All you need are “he said” and “she asked.”

(7) Avoid the “You know, Jim,” syndrome

That’s an information dump disguised as regular dialogue: “You know, Jim, if you want a tax break, equipment that qualifies for the Residential Renewable Energy Tax Credit includes solar, wind, geothermal and fuel-cell technology.” Nobody talks like that in casual conversation – not even a salesperson.

Elaine Viets—March 11, 2019

 

1. Avoid overusing dialogue tags. Instead of constantly using he said or she said (or the name and said), replace them often with action beats, which will also help bring the scene alive:

He closed the door very quietly. Too late.

She stood there, hands on hips. “Where’ve you been?”

“Don’t start.” He took off his coat and hung it up.

The action immediately before or after the words tells us who’s talking.

Or, if it can be done without confusing the readers, just leave out the dialogue tag or action beat. Context often makes it obvious who’s speaking.

2. The best dialogue tags are the simple he said and she said (or asked), or with the name: John said, Carol said. These simple dialogue tags don’t draw attention to themselves or interrupt the story line, as they’re almost invisible. Avoid fancy tags like queried, chortled, alleged, proclaimed, conjectured, affirmed, etc., which can be distracting. But I do suggest using verbs that accurately and quickly describe how the words are delivered, like whispered, shouted, yelled, screamed, or stammered.

3. You can’t use words like laughed or grinned or smiled or grimaced or scowled as dialogue tags.

These are both incorrect:

“You look great,” he grinned.
“Why, thank you,” she smiled.

Why don’t they work? Because smiling is not talking; you can’t “smile” or “grin” words.
Change to:

“You look great,” he said, grinning.
“Why, thank you.” She smiled at the compliment. (Note period and capital “She”)
Or “Why, thank you,” she said, then smiled at him.

4. Use adverbs very sparingly.

Avoid:
“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically.
“Come here,” he said imperiously.
“I’m in charge,” she said haughtily.

Instead, make sure the words they’re saying and any actions convey the feelings you wish to express.

5. Off-topic, but do not put quotation marks around thoughts. That’s a topic for another post.

 TWO CURRENT STYLE TRENDS (Jodie’s observations):

  1. Contemporary North American fiction seems to avoid the reversed form, “said Carol”, in favor of “Carol said.” The reversed form seems to be more British and also considered kind of archaic, which makes it great for historical fiction.
  2. Most contemporary North American fiction writers, with the notable exception of Lee Child, seem to put most dialogue tags after the words spoken:

“Let’s go,” Tony said.

Rather than before:

Tony said, “Let’s go.”

These last two points are of course just my observations of common usage, not rules. But aspiring or debut authors would do well to stick with what seems to be in favor, to give a contemporary feel to your novel. Of course, if you’re writing historical fiction, go for the older “said Elizabeth” form.

Jodie Renner—June 19, 2014

Here’s a little exercise I teach in my workshops: take one of your dialogue-heavy scenes. Go to the middle and select a line at random. Now, pull down a random novel from your shelf. Open to a random page. Flip around until you find some dialogue. Pick one line of that dialogue.

NOW: substitute the line you just read for the line you selected in your scene. THEN: figure out how to justify it!

NEXT: Tweak the line so it fits the character. FINALLY: Rewrite the rest of the scene. Do this as a way to create or explore deeper levels of story or character. You may end up not using the dialogue line itself, but you will have opened up new vistas in your story and given your imagination a chance to play.

But if you do use the line, here is a big benefit: It creates a surprise for the reader. And surprise is the greatest page-turning prompt of all. Predictability is dull. So throw the reader off every now and then with something out of the blue.

Another benefit: you can use this exercise whenever you hit bad old writer’s block. Don’t know where your story is going? Having trouble plotting the next few scenes? Not sure who a character is? Try this exercise and get the mental pistons firing again.

Here’s a clip from my current WIP:

“Isn’t the view gorgeous?” she said.

“You better get right to it,” Dylan said, “because this is the last time we meet.”

“You can’t mean that.”

“I’m prepared to walk away.”

“I don’t think so, dear.”

“Watch me.”

“You haven’t even seen what I have.”

“I don’t care—”

“Or heard.”

“Heard?”

“So many things. You can be happy. We can be happy.”

“Look, you’re sick and you need help.”

“Don’t—”

“I know people. I can get you help.”

Now I perform the exercise. I’ll show you what I came up with using four very different novels off my shelf.

Using a line from An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser (1925):

“Or heard.”

“Heard?”

“So many things. You can be happy. We can be happy.”

“Look, you’re sick and you need help.”

“Oh, it doesn’t amount to anything, really. We just quarrel, that’s all, once in awhile.”

From The Gods Themselves by Isaac Asimov (1972):

“Or heard.”

“Heard?”

“So many things. You can be happy. We can be happy.”

“Look, you’re sick and you need help.”

“Sexually?”

From The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett (1929):

“Or heard.”

“Heard?”

“So many things. You can be happy. We can be happy.”

“Look, you’re sick and you need help.”

“Yeah, she had it tucked under her arm when she paid me.”

From L.A. Requiem by Robert Crais (1999):

“Or heard.”

“Heard?”

“So many things. You can be happy. We can be happy.”

“Look, you’re sick and you need help.”

“Well, we’re going to find out, but right now we’ve got a maniac to get off the street.”

Well now! Each one of these lines takes us in a different direction, doesn’t it?

The first one gets me thinking along the lines of Psycho, and multiple personalities.

The second one gives me a whole new aspect of character.

The third one is so obscure I have to do some more cogitating. I try to figure out why this woman would have been paid, and by whom. That’s a whole new plot point! That she could be working with someone. So I spend a few minutes jotting down ideas about that. Also, what did this mystery woman have tucked under her arm?

Since I’m writing a thriller, the last example really got my imagination scrambling. Which is, of course, the point of this exercise.

If I decide to use one of these lines, I’ll tweak it to make it consistent with the character’s voice.

But, after all this, I may just go back to the way I had it before. But wouldn’t that be wasted effort? Far from it! Because the writer’s mind is always stronger after this kind of workout—lithe, supple, and ready for action … hmm, maybe I should write a romance.

But not now, because I’m in the middle of my WIP and I’ve got a maniac to get off the street.

James Scott Bell—May 21, 2017

***

  1. What do you think of Elaine’s advice on making dialogue realistic? Any additions to her tips?
  2. How do you handle dialogue tags?
  3. What do you think of Jim’s random dialogue exercise? Is this something you’ll try? (I certainly will.)
  4. Any general advice on making dialogue more effective and engaging?

Scars Tell a Story #WriteTip

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Close-up of a scarred male lion

Click to Enlarge

While watching my wildlife gorge on peanuts, bread, almonds, dates, and raisins one morning, an impressive male bluejay caught my attention. Tall, well-built, and mysterious. The moment he landed on the food table in front of my window, the scarring on his face came into focus, and I wondered what happened to him.

Scars tell a story, an undeniable truth of the past. Perhaps “Scar” had a run-in with a hawk in his youth. The scars looked old, as though they’d formed during his development years or changed him as a young adult. The feathers atop the usual bluejay markings were much darker — midnight black — the skin obviously disrupted by a traumatic experience.

What was Scar’s wounding event? Did he fight this battle alone? Or did a predator kill his entire family in the nest?

I can only speculate. The answers died long ago.

All in all, Scar is a happy little dude, but also more cautious than the others, which adds some validity to my hypothesis as to how he received the scars. I’m intrigued by Scar, and pray a human didn’t hurt him. He piques my interest. Keeps me guessing about his past.

If Scar was a character in a novel, I could never stop flipping pages until I’d unraveled the mystery behind his scars. The author would have hooked me simply by showing me his face. What seems like a minor detail like a scar adds to the hero’s characterization. And you can bet an emotional scar lurks behind the physical disruption. All species, including humans, are affected by past events.

bluejay on snow

Not Scar. I cannot photograph him while we’re building trust.

Take Scar, for example. He waits for others to sample the food before he takes a bite. He watches how I interact with the other bluejays before he approaches.

He’s careful.

Reserved.

Suspicious of humans or new food sources.

The rest of the party (my favorite collective noun for a group of bluejays) scream with excitement and joy.

Not Scar. He’s quiet. Hangs back. Learns. Only after he’s gathered enough intel to satisfy his inquisitive mind does he feel safe enough to fly closer. I admire that about him. It shows he’s intelligent.

As writers, we’re told to include emotional scars but we also shouldn’t avoid physical scars. And not only for villains. Heroes wear scars, too.

Tattoos are often reminders of a special time in one’s life or symbolize what the wearer loves, embodies, or believes in. They can also help the wearer regain control over a trauma or cover, even enhance, a physical scar.

Years ago, I knew a young woman who was born with a cleft palate and left with scars from the corrective surgery. She never felt beautiful. All she could see were her scars. But she was beautiful, inside and out. Since few could make her see herself through their eyes, she turned to drugs and alcohol and eventually lost her life.

Some say, it’s more difficult for women to deal with facial scars than men. I know from personal experience that isn’t necessarily true. Both men and women try to hide scars public. It’s easier than having to retell — or relive — the story behind them.

Back in 1995, I was involved in a car accident that threw me into the windshield. Half conscious, I opened my eyes while stuck in the glass and tried to break free. The movement tore off my left eyebrow, eyelashes, upper eyelid, a chunk of my nose, split open my upper lip, and cracked all my teeth. The hospital called in a plastic surgeon to repair the damage to the left side of my face. Doctors told me I’d never regrow my eyebrow or eyelashes. For a girl in her twenties, it was devastating news.

I’ve never been one to follow the norm, or listen to doctors who think they can predict the future. Instead, I prayed for a miracle. Little by little, as I picked glass shards out of both eyes for several weeks, tiny hairs filled in my eyebrow and my lashes sprouted new growth. The doctors couldn’t believe it. My progress from the accident to full eyebrow and lashes is now in medical journals.

The emergency plastic surgery left me with scars on my eyelid, nose, and above my left upper lip. If you and I met in person, you might never notice. I only allow those closest to me to see my scars without makeup. When I’m tired, they pop right out. Not sure why scars get more visible then, but I’m not alone…

A dear friend for the last 30+ years got badly injured on a motorcycle when his gas tank exploded. The melted skin covering his right armpit looks like it belongs to Freddy Kruger. And the deep scarring on his forehead and zipper-like indent in his skull are still prominent 40 years after the accident. I love his scars. He wouldn’t be the same man without them.

Not only are scars reminders of past trauma but how one dealt with the injury and pain, then and now.

Like me, my friend also covers his scars in public. Only those closest to him are allowed to see the extent of his old injuries (2nd dimension of character = the person family and friends know). Neither of us regret our scars. They remind us that we’re lucky to be alive, along with all our other physical scars. Doesn’t mean we want to share them with the world (1st dimension of character = one’s public face).

See how a detail like a scar can inform one’s character? Keep it in mind while crafting your hero or secondary characters. Just remember to note them in your story bible, so a scar on the left cheek doesn’t move to the right in subsequent chapters and/or books. LOL

Would anyone like to share their scars and the story behind them? Have you ever seen a scarred bluejay or other backyard bird? I don’t dare photograph Scar until he gets to know me better, or the trust we’ve built may crumble.

Let’s Talk Turkey #WriteTip

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I moved into my new place last week. Hence why you haven’t seen me in the comment section. It took two weeks to pack. I’m now unpacking. I found a cozy little abode on the New Hampshire seacoast, near the Massachusetts border. It’s the best of both worlds — two minutes from anything I might need, yet a quiet country setting with plenty of wildlife.

As I gazed out my kitchen window for the first time, five huge male turkeys stood sentinel in the yard. Soon, twenty-five more joined them to socialize, feast, and play. The original five Toms guard the property all day. There’s also an adorable opossum and three albino skunks — stunning all white fur — who come nightly to eat alongside the resident stray cat. All four share the same bowl.

Why can’t humans put aside their differences like animals can?

For my fellow crow lovers out there, a murder of crows arrived on day two. Or Poe and the gang followed me. Sure sounds like Poe’s voice, but I can’t be certain until I set up their feeding spot and take a closer look. My murder has white dots, each in different spots, which helps me tell them apart. Plus, Poe has one droopy wing.

As I watched the five Toms this morning, it reminded me of a post I’d written back in 2017 (time flies on TKZ, doesn’t it?). So, I thought I’d revamp that post a bit, and tweak for our pantser friends.

***

Clare’s recent post got me thinking about craft and how, as we write, the story inflates like a Tom turkey. If you think about it long enough and throw in a looming deadline, Tom Turkey and story structure have a lot in common.

Stay with me. I promise it’ll make sense, but I will ask you to take one small leap of faith — I need you to picture Tom Turkey as the sum of his parts, constructed by craft. And yes, this light bulb blazed on over the Thanksgiving holiday. We are now having spiral ham for Christmas dinner.

But I digress.

Story beats build Tom’s spine. Think of each milestone as vertebrae. Pantsers, let the story unfold as it flows. You can always check the beat placement after the drafting stage.

The ribs that extend from Tom’s spine liken to the equal parts that expand our beats and tell us how our characters should react before, during, and after the quest.

Broken into four equal parts, 25% percent each, this is the dramatic arc. It’s a natural progression that many writers do instinctually. If you want to check your work after the drafting stage, pantsers, the dramatic arc should look like this…

  • Setup (Page 1 – 25% mark): Introduce protagonist, hook the reader, setup First Plot Point through foreshadowing, stakes, and establish empathy (not necessarily likability) for the MC.
  • Response (25% – 50% mark): The MC’s reaction to the new goal/stakes/obstacles revealed by the First Plot Point. MC doesn’t need to be heroic yet. They retreat, regroup, and have doomed attempts at reaching their goal. Also include a reminder of antagonistic forces at work.
  • Attack (50% – 75% mark): Midpoint information/awareness causes the MC to change course in how to approach the obstacles; the hero is now empowered with information on how to proceed, not merely reacting anymore.
  • Resolution (75% – The End): MC summons the courage, inner strength, and growth to find a solution to overcome inner obstacles and conquer the antagonistic force. All new information must have been referenced, foreshadowed, or already in play by 2nd Plot Point or we’re guilty of deus ex machina.

Tom Turkey is beginning to take shape.

Characterization adds meat to his bones, and conflict-driven sub-plots supply tendons and ligaments. When we layer in dramatic tension in the form of a need, goal, quest, and challenges to overcome, Tom’s skin forms and thickens.

With obstacle after obstacle, and inner and outer conflict, Tom strengthens enough to sprout feathers. At the micro-level, MRUs (Motivation-Reaction-Units) — for every action there’s a reaction — establish our story rhythm and pace. They also help heighten and maintain suspense. If you remember every action has a reaction, MRUs come naturally to many writers. Still good to check on the first read through.

MRUs fluff Tom Turkey’s feathers. He even grew a beak!

Providing a vicarious experience, our emotions splashed across the page, makes Tom fan his tail-feathers. The rising stakes add to Tom’s glee (he’s a sadist), and he prances for a potential mate. He believes he’s ready to score with the ladies. Tom may actually get lucky this year.

Then again, we know better. Don’t we, dear writers? Poor Tom is still missing a few crucial elements to close the deal.

By structuring our scenes — don’t groan, pantsers! — Tom grew an impressive snood. See it dangling over his beak? The wattle under his chin needs help, though. Hens are shallow creatures. 😉 Quick! We need a narrative structure.

Narrative structure refers to the way in which a story is organized and presented to the reader. It includes the plot, subplot, characters, setting, and theme, as well as techniques and devices used by the author to convey these elements.

Now, Tom looks sharp. What an impressive bird. Watch him prance, full and fluffy, head held high, tail feathers fanned in perfect formation.

Uh-oh. Joe Hunter sets Tom in his rifle scope. We can’t let him die before he finds a mate! But how can we save him? We’ve already given him all the tools he needs, right?

Well, not quite.

Did we choose the right point of view to tell our story? If we didn’t, Tom could wind up on a holiday table surrounded by drooling humans in bibs. We can’t let that happen! Nor can we afford to lose the reader before we get a chance to dazzle ’em.

Tom needs extra oomph — aka Voice. Without it, Joe Hunter will murder poor Tom.

Voice is an elusive beast for new writers because it develops over time. To quote JSB:

It comes from knowing each character intimately and writing with the “voice” that is a combo of character and author and craft on the page.

That added oomph makes your story special. No one can write like you. No one. Remember that when self-doubt or imposter syndrome creeps in.

If Tom hopes to escape Joe Hunter’s bullet, he needs wings in the form of context. Did we veer outside readers’ expectations for the genre we’re writing in? Did we give Tom a heart and soul by subtly infusing theme? Can we boil down the plot to its core story, Tom’s innards? What about dialogue? Does Tom gobble or quack?

Have we shown the three dimensions of character to add oxygen to Tom’s lungs? You wouldn’t want to be responsible for suffocating Tom to death, would you?

  • 1st Dimension of Character: The best version of who they are; the face the character shows to the world
  • 2nd Dimension of Character:  The person a character shows to friends and family
  • 3rd Dimension of Character:  The character’s true character. If a fire breaks out in a crowded theater, will they help others or elbow their way to the exit?

Lastly, Tom needs a way to wow the ladies. Better make sure our prose sings. If we don’t, Tom might die of loneliness. Do we really want to be responsible for that? To be safe, let’s review our word choices, sentence variations, paragraphing, white space, grammar, and how we string words together to ensure Tom lives a full and fruitful life.

Don’t forget to rewrite and edit. If readers love Tom, he and his new mate may bring chicks (sequels or prequels) into the world, and we, as Tom’s creator, have the honor of helping them flourish into full-fledged turkeys.

Aww… Tom’s story has a happy ending now. Good job, writers!

For fun, choose a name for Tom’s mate. Winner gets bragging rights.

The Art of Misdirection

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“There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.” — Soren Kierkegaard

* * *

One of the most interesting aspects of mystery novels for me is the author’s ability to construct a story that leads the reader “down the garden path.” Then when the truth is revealed, the reader smacks him/herself on the side of the head in recognition that they picked the wrong person as the villain. They should have seen it coming.

When I told a friend of mine about my interest in constructing novels that use this technique of misdirection, she was astonished. “It sounds like you’re deliberately manipulating what the reader is thinking.”

“Right,” I said. “That’s the point. If the author can present information to the reader so they react to the scenes in the story in a predictable way, it will produce an entertaining and satisfying experience for the reader.”

My friend said she didn’t like the idea of being fooled, but I think she’s fooling herself.

At its heart, a mystery novel is a game, a challenge to the reader to see if they can put the puzzle together correctly. The reader has all the necessary information, but the author uses several devices to misguide the reader into putting their trust in the wrong characters or the wrong clues.

Foreshadowing, Clues, and Red Herrings

In his article in Writer’s Digest,  Robert McCaw put it well:

“Misdirection also requires subtlety. The reader will feel crassly manipulated if the surprise ending arrives without sufficient hints or foreshadowing. Ideally, good misdirection makes the reader look back at various telltale clues peppered throughout the story, hopefully leading them to admire the author’s skill in setting up and obscuring the ultimate surprise.”

Perhaps the cleverest red herring of all time was created by Agatha Christie in her novel And Then There Were None, in which ten people on a remote island are being killed off one by one in a way that mirrors the nursery rhyme Ten Soldier Boys. When they get down to three people left alive, one of them (Vera) says

“You’ve forgotten the nursery rhyme. Don’t you see there’s a clue there?” She recited in a meaning voice: “Four little Indian boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.” She went on: “A red herring—that’s the vital clue. Armstrong’s not dead… He took away the china Indian to make you think he was. You may say what you like—Armstrong’s on the island still. His disappearance is just a red herring across the track…”

A clue that references the very words “red herring” is clever. But it turns out the clue itself was a red herring. Now that was really clever.

The Unreliable Narrator

In a novelsuspects.com article, Emily Watson writes

The term “unreliable narrator” was introduced in 1961 by Wayne C. Booth in his book The Rhetoric of Fiction. Typically, for a narrator to be unreliable, the story needs to be presented by a first-person narrator. And since first-person accounts of stories and events are often flawed and biased, you could argue that all first-person narrators are by nature unreliable. But Booth explains that for a narrator to be unreliable, they must either misreport, misinterpret, misevaluate, underreport, under-interpret, or under-evaluate.

Once again Agatha Christie claims preeminence in misdirection with the unreliable narrator Dr. Sheppard in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

The False Ending

Robert McCaw also addressed the topic of false endings in his article in Writer’s Digest.

“Another of my favorite techniques is the false or penultimate ending. In this case, the narrative comes to a neat close. The protagonist solves the mysteries and identifies the culprit. There are no loose strings. The story is over, except it’s not. Instead, another chapter surprises the reader with a new and different take on the ending, often creating the opportunity to begin a new story, perhaps in another book.”

An example of this is the French film He Loves Me… He Loves Me Not directed by Laetitia Colombani. While not exactly a mystery, the movie’s unusual structure is a good example of misdirection, unreliable narration, and a false ending.

The movie was released in 2002 and starred Audrey Tautou, the actress who had previously been best known for her performance as the main character in the movie Amelie. Casting Tautou as Angelique in He Loves Me was a brilliant way to manipulate the viewers into immediately trusting the adorable girl.

In this movie, Angelique is an accomplished young artist in love with a married man, Dr. Loic Le Garrec (Samuel Le Bihan). The movie begins in a flower shop where Angelique is sending a pink rose to Le Garrec on his birthday, and it tracks the plot through scenes where Angelique appears to get closer and closer to her goal of breaking up Le Garrec’s marriage so the two of them can go off together.

Then something goes awry. Angelique realizes her plan has failed, and she decides to commit suicide. It seems this will be the sad end to a young woman’s life, but that’s the false ending. The movie is only at the halfway point.

As Angelique lies down on the floor in front of a gas stove, everything changes. It looks like the movie is rewinding in Fast Backward mode, and suddenly we’re all the way back to the beginning at the flower shop.

But this time, the movie presents the actual events, not just Angelique’s fantasy, and the viewer comes to understand Angelique was suffering from a mental illness called “erotomania.” The first half of the movie showed only a partial truth, but one that convinced the viewer of a lie.

In the actual ending, Angelique has survived her suicide attempt and is incarcerated in a mental institution. The final end of the movie is yet another false ending that I won’t spoil for you.

* * *

So, there you have it. Red herrings, unreliable narrators, and false endings. All devices to trick the reader into enjoying a wonderful story.

“Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken.”
― Jane Austen, Emma

* * *

So TKZers: There are many ways to lead the reader astray. Have you been fooled by misdirection? Have you used misdirection in your books? What books or movies would you recommend that gleefully mislead the audience?

* * *

Was it a clue to murder? Or just a small child’s fanciful note? Private pilot Cassie Deakin must find her way through the labyrinth to solve the puzzle.

Available at  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

Starting a New Series: 5 Questions

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By Elaine Viets

Last year, I started a new mystery series. It’s been a long road to publication, including five rewrites.

My editor liked my Angela Richman, death investigator series. But I longed to write another series set in south Florida.

Here’s the new cover.

 

In Sex and Death on the Beach, Norah McCarthy owns the Florodora apartments. Plumbers repairing the pool discover the body of porn star Sammie Lant, notorious for having sex on the beach with a college football star. When more bones are uncovered, Norah is shocked to her core.

When I start a new series, I have to answer five questions: who, what, where, when and why.

Who is my main character? She’s Norah McCarthy, age 41. Norah owns the most exclusive apartment building in Peerless Point, Florida. The Florodora is more than a hundred years old, the first apartment building in this south Florida beach town between Fort Lauderdale and Miami.

You don’t need money or social status to rent an apartment at the Florodora. You must be a member of a more exclusive group. You have to be a genuine Florida Man or Woman. You’ve seen the headlines: “Florida Man Busted with Meth, Guns and Baby Gator in Truck.” Or: “Florida Woman Bathes in Mountain Dew in Attempt to Erase DNA after Committing Murder.”

Yes, those are real headlines.

Norah is descended from an early Florida Woman, her grandmother, Eleanor Harriman.

Grandma always had a soft spot for scapegraces, since she was one herself. She was a Florodora Girl, a superstar chorus girl a century ago. Grandma was in the 1920 Broadway production of Florodora, before she eloped with handsome Johnny Harriman, a millionaire, back when a million was real money. She was married at sixteen and madly in love.

When Norah was old enough, Grandma told her about poor Johnny’s accidental death, which involved a champagne bottle and a chandelier.

“I loved that man,” Grandma said. “I’m glad he died happy.”

Johnny’s death made Grandma a rich widow at seventeen. She moved to south Florida and built an apartment building right on the ocean in 1923, on a narrow barrier island.

What am I writing? A funny cozy mystery.

You’d be surprised how many mystery authors aren’t sure if they’re writing a cozy, a thriller, or a traditional mystery. Answering this question will set the tone and pace for your novel.

Where is it set? This Florida Beach series is set in mythical Peerless Park, a beach town between Fort Lauderdale and Miami, which has much in common with Hollywood, Florida, where I currently live.

When is it set? Right now in the present day, with occasional trips back in time when Norah’s grandmother was still alive.

Why write a new series?

Let me tell you about my latest walk on Hollywood beach, near my home. I was on the Broadwalk. That’s  not a typo, that’s what the city calls the wide walkway of pink pavers along the beach.

It was close to sunset on a sparkling bright day. The light was soft, the air was brisk, and the sky was smeared shades of flamingo pink and purple.

Against this colorful background, I heard German, English and Spanish. I saw a smiling shirtless man wearing earbuds dance the mambo on the Broadwalk. He followed the steps perfectly: Step. Pause. Other foot. Pause. And repeat.

Right after the mambo dancer, another man was loading a stunning macaw with long indigo tailfeathers into his van. A third man was rocking gently in a rainbow-colored hammock.

And last, but not least, four people were setting up for a beach wedding, assembling a five-feet tall rose petal heart as the backdrop for the couple’s seaside ceremony.

I wanted to write about Florida’s life and color. That’s how my Florida Beach series was born. Yes, I know there’s much to dislike about Florida, from the humidity to the hurricanes and more. Look at any news site, and you’ll find at least one story proving some residents of the Sunshine State are a little dim.

But Florida has its own brand of wackiness that appeals to someone with a slightly skewed sense of humor.

Like me.

Preorder your copy of Sex and Death on the Beach here: bit.ly/3W6Y2Rp

 

Should You Write a Prequel?

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When Dexter: Original Sin came out, I had my doubts. The ending of Dexter: New Blood left a bad taste in my mouth (I won’t spoil it for you).

Jeff Lindsay isn’t to blame for that. New Blood and Original Sin are based on the characters from Lindsay’s long-standing series but don’t have a direct novel equivalent. The television franchise creator, Clyde Phillips, made changes to the story for the show.

Dexter: Original Sin is also a prequel that shows Dexter’s early years… how his father created “the code” to keep his “dark passenger” under control, his internship at Miami Metro Police Department, and his first kill.

Without basing the prequel on a Lindsay novel, I was more than a little reluctant to watch it. But I love Dexter! Which is a great reason to write a prequel. If you have a beloved character, readers might be interested in their early years.

Upside of Prequels

Character depth: Write a prequel to show the origin story of a beloved character or cast to explain their motivation and how they became who they are in the original series.

World-building: Write a prequel to provide a deeper look into the world before the main events i.e., history, politics, culture, etc.

Fresh perspectives: Write a prequel to showcase lesser-known characters and their perspectives.

Downside of Prequels

Unnecessary recap: Don’t write a prequel to rehash plot points from one of the original novels or the series as a whole.

Disappointing character portrayals: Don’t write a prequel to capture the essence of an established character or cast, or you’ll risk undoing all the characterization in the series.

Quality: If you don’t believe the prequel can live up to the high standards of the series, write something else.

The last thing you want is for readers to think:

  • “Was the prequel necessary?”
  • “Meh. It was okay, not nearly as good as the original novels.”
  • “What did I just read? I feel tricked, like everything I believed was a lie.”
  • Or the fatal blow: “Doubt I’ll even buy the next book in the series now.”

Too many franchises use prequels to pad the bank account, and few live up to the original series. While it may be fun for readers/viewers to revisit the characters and story world they love, too often prequels fall flat. Either they’re filled with inconsistencies in characterization, or they attempt to skew previous storylines to fit the new narrative.

Neither apply to Dexter: Original Sin.

Phillips did a masterful job of showing Dexter’s early years. A young actor named Patrick Gibson plays Dexter, but Michael C. Hall — whom we all grew to love in the original television series — narrates Dexter Morgan’s inner voice. Genius! The main reason I waited to watch the show was because, in my opinion, no other actor could play Dexter Morgan. ’Course, I never thought anyone could play a believable Hannibal Lecter, either, but Mads Mikkelsen proved me wrong.

From the first episode of Dexter: Original Sin, the screenwriter captivated me with how he portrayed the origin story. Let’s look at everything he did right.

In the first five episodes, Phillips never tried to change the character of Dexter Morgan. Instead, he merely filled in the blanks of what we missed in the original series. Patrick Gibson (young Dexter) didn’t overplay his role. The trailer misled me by zooming in on young Dexter’s evil expression — and not in a good way — when in fact, 20-year-old Dexter is simply learning to deal with the duality within him.

  • He knows he’s different from other people.
  • He questions why he’s different.
  • He fights the desires of his “dark passenger.”

Conflict, conflict, and more conflict.

Discussions between Dexter and Harry Morgan turn almost heartwarming. Regardless of subject matter, the love between a father and his adopted son shines through. They’re doing the best they can under impossible circumstances.

As a homicide sergeant at Miami Metro PD, Harry taught Dexter “the code” shown via flashbacks in the original series.

For years, Dexter believed Harry created the code, but in season eight of the original series, we learned he had help. Dr. Evelyn Vogel, a neuropsychiatrist who specializes in the treatment of psychopaths, noticed Dexter had psychopathic tendencies as a child. So, she and Harry developed the Code of Harry as a way for Dexter to safely satisfy his needs and help rid society of dangerous predators.

Dexter: Original Sin provides an in-depth look at the code in real time, as the prequel takes place fifteen years before the original series.

Code of Harry

  1. Don’t get caught.
  2. Never kill an innocent.
  3. Targets must be killers who have evaded the justice system.
  4. Killing must serve a purpose. Otherwise, it’s just plain murder.
  5. Blend in socially to maintain appearances.
  6. Fake emotions and normality.
  7. Control and channel the urge to kill.
  8. Be prepared. Leave no trace or evidence.
  9. Never make a [public] scene. Stay calm and collected.
  10. Don’t make things personal because it clouds judgment.
  11. Don’t get emotionally involved.
  12. No preemptive killing.

The prequel never tries to rewrite the well-established Code of Harry. Instead, Phillips shows mistakes by both Harry and Dexter as they attempt to navigate their new normal. We also see Dexter’s first kill, which broke several rules for a valid reason, and learn more about Dexter’s birth mother and her relationship with Harry.

Dexter: Original Sin succeeds because it enhances Lindsay’s original series. And that may be the best reason of all to write a prequel. Otherwise, writer beware — penning a decent prequel is not an easy endeavor.

Have you ever considered writing a prequel? 

If you’ve written a prequel, what was your deciding factor? What did you hope to achieve? How did readers respond?

Have you read a prequel that blew you away?

What prequel failed to meet your expectations, and why?

Finishing Strong with Aspects of the Novel

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“Everything ends; you just have to figure out a way to push to the finish line.” —Jesse Itzler

* * *

Welcome back, TKZers! Isn’t it wonderful to be back in the Zone after the two-week break?

Now that we’re approaching the finish line for 2024, it’s time to look back at lessons learned in the past year. In addition to the great content posted here, TKZ contributors lent their voices to other platforms. One of those was The Craft of Writing Blog on my website at kaydibianca.com.

The theme of this year’s blog was Aspects of the Novel, and each month I interviewed an accomplished author on a different facet of novel writing. Five of those authors are TKZ contributors whose thoughts were so instructive, I wanted to share an excerpt from each interview in this post.

So enjoy finishing the year strong by walking with our wise friends through various Aspects of the Novel. To see the entire interview for any of the choices below, click on the link.

* * *

VOICE (James Scott Bell)

How does an author go about developing his/her own voice?

It’s really a matter of learning ways to let the voice run free. Let it come out naturally as you, the author, are concentrating on the emotion and action and internal lives of the characters. There are various exercises I give in my book on voice, such as the page-long sentence. When I come to a place of high emotion in a scene, I like to start a fresh document and write a single, run-on sentence of at least 200 words. It is free-form, wild text in the character’s voice, not thinking about grammar or structure. It’s just pouring out the emotion as fast and intensely as possible.

What happens inevitably, like panning for gold, is you get a few glistening nuggets. It may even be only one sentence, but that sentence will be choice.

There are other methods, but the great point is that doing this begins to develop a strong “voice muscle” in your writer’s brain, and you get better and better at it the more you exercise it.

 

ANTAGONISTS (Debbie Burke)

How does a good writer approach creating the antagonist character? Are there exercises a writer can use to develop their villain-creating talents?

A technique I like to use is James Scott Bell’s voice journal. Let the antagonist write out their thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. What are their deepest, most secret desires? Give them the opportunity to express their frustration, anger, and hatred. Putting their emotions into words helps the author get inside their skin and understand why they feel their behavior is justified.

Interview the villain/antagonist. Ask questions. What is their background? How did their parents treat them? Were they bullied or abused? What early losses or failures scarred them?

Another Jim Bell tip: have villains argue their case before the jury that will decide their fate. What compelling arguments can they offer to save themselves from the death penalty?

 

DEEP POINT OF VIEW (Terry Odell)

Now, on to Deep POV:

Deep POV can be thought of as writing a first person book in third person. You are deep inside the POV character’s head, providing the reader with not only the character’s five senses, but also their thoughts and feelings. Because you’re deep into their heads, your readers should feel closer to the characters than if you have an outside narrator, as is the case in shallower third person POV. A test. You should be able to replace he, she, or the character’s name with “I.”

When writing in Deep POV, it’s also important to be true to the character. What would they notice? Two characters walk into a room. (No, that’s not the start of a joke.) One’s a cop; the other is an interior designer. They’ll focus on very different things.

 

ANTI-HEROES (Sue Coletta)

How do you define an anti-hero?

An anti-hero is the protagonist of the story, who straddles the law. Good people doing bad things for the right reason. Nothing is black and white. Anti-heroes thrive in shades in gray.

 

DESCRIPTION (P.J. Parrish)

How would you define descriptive writing?

Wow. That’s a toughie. Well, let’s start with a distinction. There’s explanation and then there’s description. Explanation is you, the writer, just dealing with the prosaic stuff of moving characters around in time and space. Explanation example: The man walked into the room. Simple choregraphy. Gets the job done but pushes no emotional buttons.

But description? That’s where the magic happens. When you work your descriptive powers, you engage the reader’s senses and imagination, maybe tugging on their memories and experiences. The man didn’t just walk into the room.  Rewrite:

The old man stopped just inside the door of the café. He was in his eighties, that much was clear. But as he stood there, erect and with a small smile tipping his lips, heads turned to him. It wasn’t just the panama hat or the seersucker suit. Because the hat was yellowed and his sleeves were frayed. No, we were staring at him because the air around him seemed to vibrate with an aliveness. He caught my eye and started toward me, and my throat closed. It was like looking at my father, the one I had seen only in photographs.

See the difference? The main purpose of descriptive writing is to show the reader a person, place or thing in such a way that a picture is formed in their mind. It means paying close attention to the details by using all of your five senses. Explanation vs description. When you explain something, you try to make it clearer and easier to understand. But when you describe, you’re tugging on their emotions.

 

* * *

As we come to the end of the year, I want to wish you all a Happy, Healthy, and Successful New Year!

* * *

So TKZers: How are you finishing strong in 2024? Any lessons learned you can share? What are you looking forward to in 2025?

 

“A delicious murder mystery” —Readers’ Favorite Reviews

Available at  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

Does Your Story Have a Full Circle Moment?

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A full circle moment occurs when life provides clarity about the past.

The journey begins with an often harrowing event, we endure trials and tribulations along the way, then end up right where we started.

Only now, we have the wisdom of life experience and personal growth to view the past from a new perspective.

Have you experienced a full circle moment in your life?

I’m living one right now. As I mentioned before, I grew up in Massachusetts. When I moved to New Hampshire, I said I’d never return, that no one could pay me to live there again. And that remained my mindset for decades. But now, after a series of difficult personal experiences and a new, enlightened perspective, I plan to move back to Massachusetts. Everything about my decision feels right — it feels like I’ve finally found my way home.

If I were to write my life story one day, the jangle of the key in the lock of my new home would become a powerful full circle moment in the book.

A full circle moment completes the character arc.

Story Circle

Dan Harmon is the mastermind behind the Story Circle. Currently an executive producer at Rick and Morty, he also created and ran the NBC show Community. Dan consolidated Joseph Campbell’s classic Hero’s Journey from 17+ steps into a more contemporary set of 8, each with a punchy one-word descriptor that makes them easy to remember.

Please ignore my lame attempt at drawing a straight line with a mouse. 😀

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YOU: A compelling main character (YOU) has a problem.

NEED: YOU have a need.

YOU want something. YOU are not satisfied with a ho-hum lifestyle. Either this desire stems from an internal NEED before the inciting incident, or something or someone comes along to awaken the desire within YOU.

GO: YOU cross the threshold into an adventure.

YOU have packed your bags to search for a brighter tomorrow. Not only are YOU ready to GO but you’re going no matter what. No one can stop YOU. The NEED is too strong to ignore.

SEARCH: YOU find the answer to your problem.

Mission accomplished. Or is it?

YOU land in a new country and don’t speak the language, nor are YOU familiar with the culture.

Let’s see what YOU are made of. Will YOU adapt? Or fall apart? Perhaps a little of both.

FIND: Things are not how they appear.

This is a major threshold the character must cross, one that spins the story in a new direction. The protagonist has come this far. There’s no turning back. YOU must do everything within your power to fight to fulfill your NEED.

TAKE: But there’s always a price to pay.

How badly do YOU want it? This is where we see how steep of a price the protagonist is willing to pay to get what they NEED.

In this part of the story, the protagonist comes face-to-face with the villain and dangerously close to death, real or internal. The climax is the culmination of everything YOU have been fighting for since the beginning.

RETURN: After YOU slay the metaphorical (or real) dragon, YOU RETURN to the ordinary world.

YOU have fulfilled your NEED, defeated the villain, learned something about yourself, and are ready to RETURN home. In a romcom, it’s here where the hero races to the airport to prevent his soulmate from boarding the plane. In a thriller, the protagonist has defeated the villain and must RETURN home, even if there’s more danger in the near future.

CHANGE: The journey has changed YOU, for better or worse.

YOU are not the same person YOU were before. Are YOU wiser? Better prepared for the unexpected? Or more cautious, even paranoid? How has the journey changed YOU?

Wizard of Oz — Story Circle Example 

YOU: Dorothy is in the black-and-white world, dreaming (in song) about traveling over the rainbow rather than stay in Kansas.

NEED: A twister dumps Dorothy’s house in a colorful town square. No longer in a black-and-white world, she enters a land of technicolor and NEEDs to adapt to a new and unfamiliar place.

GO: When Dorothy first lands in Oz, she doesn’t know where she is or how she got there. Soon, she realizes she’s “over the rainbow” and her NEED now is to get home. The only way to do that is to journey to see the great and powerful Oz. She also must stay on the yellow brick road and watch out for the Wicked Witch of the West. But she must go. The NEED to GO home is too great. Dorothy begins her adventure.

SEARCH: With advice from Glinda, the Good Witch of the North*, and her ruby red slippers, Dorothy and Toto follow the yellow brick road toward the great unknown. For the first few steps, she literally focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until she moves farther down the road.

Along the way she encounters the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion. She also endures conflict and obstacles — facing her fears, traversing through the forest, and finding a way to meet the great and powerful Oz.

*In the original novel Glinda is the Good Witch of the South, but I used “North” from the 1939 film adaptation because it’s more well-known.

FIND: The Emerald City is finally within sight. Dorothy believes the field of poppies is a beautiful and faster way to get there. But all is not how it appears. To steal the ruby red slippers, the Wicked Witch of the West has placed a field of magical sleep-inducing poppies on the outskirts of the city, and Dorothy and Toto fall into a deep slumber.

This scene is a beautiful example of the fifth stage of the Story Circle that hints at the darkness that creeps within us all, even more so when we set out to make our dreams a reality.

TAKE: The Wicked Witch of the West sends her band of flying monkeys to bring Dorothy and her friends to the castle. But the flying monkeys can’t harm Dorothy because she wears the mark of the Good Witch of the North on her forehead. Dorothy is forced to choose between her magic slippers and Toto, whom the Wicked Witch threatens to drown if Dorothy refuses to comply.

When the Wicked Witch torches the Scarecrow, his straw is set on fire. Dorothy tosses a bucket of water to help her friend but also wets the Wicked Witch, who melts into a puddle on the floor.

Dorothy’s victory shows the reader/viewer she has the inner strength to complete her quest.

RETURN: Dorothy discovers the wizard is a fraud. But luckily, there’s still a way to get home. The answer has been on Dorothy’s feet the entire time. She clicks her heels three times and repeats, “There’s no place like home.”

CHANGE: Dorothy realizes her home and family are the most valuable treasures on earth. She’s no longer the dreamy girl who wishes to leave Kansas. She’s grateful for what she has and finds happiness in the simple things.

She is transformed. And it’s a powerful full circle moment.

Have you experienced a full circle moment in your life? Tell us about it. Or share your favorite full circle moment from a book or movie.

Are you familiar with the Story Circle? Pantser or plotter, it’s an easy way to test your character arc.

Thank you to all our military men and women for your service. Happy Veterans Day!

Please note: I’m on the road today, so I may not be available to respond to comments right away.