Life Lessons from Geese to Writers

The title of this post is not a play on words. As I might’ve mentioned a time or two, we can learn a lot from animals.

This time, the life lessons come from one of our feathered friends. Or enemies, if you’re Canadian. Winking at you, Garry!

Achieving Together

Geese fly farther together than apart. When a goose flaps their wings, it creates lift for the geese that follow, making it easier for the whole flock to fly. By flying in V formation, the whole flock adds 72% greater flying range than if each bird flew alone.

If a goose falls out of formation, they feel the resistance of flying alone and quickly retake their position to benefit from the lifting power of the group.

Lesson: We are all part of the same community (if you missed my post re: writing community etiquette, find it here). By working together — accepting and giving help to one another — we move closer to reaching our goals faster than if we traveled this road alone.

Collective Responsibility

Geese understand they all have a responsibility to take their turn to lead the formation. When the lead goose tires, it moves back into formation and another goose flies to the front to take its place.

Lesson: Like geese, we depend on each other’s skills, capabilities, experience, opportunities, and resources. When everyone plays their part and shares experiences, skills, and/or challenges, like we do here on TKZ, it benefits others in our community.

How many writers have honed their craft from this blog over the last 13 years? My hand’s raised. Is yours?

The Power of Positivity

When in flight, geese in the back formation honk to encourage those at the front to keep up their speed. Basically, they’re cheering them on.

Lesson: This positive reinforcement is a reminder to us all to give praise and kindness to one another. If one of us succeeds, we all should celebrate. If someone falls, we should be there to pick them up, dust them off, and encourage them to keep going — perseverance wins the race!

Support Every Individual

The instinct to care and protect is ingrained in every goose. The care of the flock is a fundamental need. When a goose is sick or wounded, two geese will drop out of formation and follow him/her to the ground to offer help and protection until they can fly again. The trio will then add their numbers to another formation or catch up to their flock.

Lesson: Though we write alone at the keyboard, we also need the care and attention of others in our community to help us get to where we want to go. So, support your fellow writers. They are your tribe, not your competition.

10 Fun Facts About Geese

(that have nothing to do with the point of this post 😉 )

  1. As goslings, geese will bond with the first suitable moving stimulus, no matter if it’s a goose, person, or object. They remain dedicated to that goose, person, or object as their surrogate parent throughout their lives.
  2. Geese are highly social animals. If they are raised around other livestock and fowl, they usually get along well with them.
  3. Goose is the term for female geese. Male geese are called ganders. A group of geese on land or in water are a gaggle, while in the air they’re called a skein.
  4. Geese eat seeds, nuts, grass, plants, and berries.
  5. They are the largest waterfowls, the other being swans. Though geese are waterfowls, they spend most of their time on land.
  6. Geese are loyal. They mate for life and are super protective of their partners and offspring.
  7. Geese grieve the loss of their partners and offspring. So, don’t shoot them for fun!

Ahem. Moving on…

  1. Geese enjoy preening their feathers, foraging for food in the grass, and collecting twigs, bark, and leaves to make home improvements to their nests.
  2. Geese form strong attachments and affection for others in their group.
  3. Because of their loyalty and love, geese make excellent guard dogs. The internet is filled with golfers who learned this the hard way. LOL

The next time you witness geese (or other birds) flying in formation, think about your fellow writers — fellow humans. Sometimes all it takes is a kind word to make someone’s day. With all the anger and hatred in the world, be the lift they need.

*I’m out of town today, and will respond to comments when I get home tomorrow.

How Much Does Your Environment Influence Your Writing?

You may have noticed my absence on the weekends lately. This summer, I vowed to take some “me time” and have fun away from the keyboard.

So, I’ve been spending my weekends on the seacoast of Massachusetts. I grew up two towns over from where I’m staying, so the area will forever have a special place in my heart.

When I first started writing, I focused on children’s books. Once I left the seacoast, I stopped writing for many years. Life, work, and bills got in the way. It wasn’t until I moved to New Hampshire that the writing bug bit me again. This time with a focus on thrillers. During my career, I’ve written psychological thrillers, ventured into true crime/narrative nonfiction, then combined my lifelong passion for wildlife conservation and veered into eco-thrillers, the genre I write in now.

As I stood on the seacoast that first weekend, staring at the same view of the Atlantic Ocean from my youth and young adulthood, I had an overwhelming desire to write children’s books again. With the wisdom and knowledge of life experience behind me, I decided to use the same theme as in my eco-thrillers only geared toward young, impressionable minds — Animals are guardians of ecosystems and caretakers of Mother Earth, but they can’t do their job if we keep destroying their environment (or hunting them to extinction).

*Side note: theme should organically emerge from the storyline. No one wants or needs the writer to stand on a soapbox. Let the characters actions and reactions reveal the theme.

The following weekend I outlined the story from start to finish, the salt air and melodic melody of waves powering my desire to help future generations by delivering an exciting plot with animal characters they can relate to, learn from, and love. When I drove home on Monday morning, and the seacoast vanished from my rearview, my mind reverted to action-packed eco-thrillers and vigilante justice.

A longtime friend asked how I could make the switch from kids to adults so easily. My response? Location.

The question made me wonder if other writers experience this.

How much does our environment influence the stories we write?

Would you write in the same genre if you lived in a different area?

If you’d stay in the same genre, would a different environment change the type of characters you create?

Lastly, if I hadn’t written children’s books when I lived on the seacoast, would the Atlantic Ocean propel me to write them now?

Maybe, maybe not.

After I wrote the first draft of a wild and fun adventure for kids, I researched some of these questions. And here’s what I found.

From the Ripple Foundation:

         Your environment directly affects different aspects of your writing, from your style to the topics you write about. Through experience, your surroundings, such as location, atmosphere, and culture play a significant role in your writing. 

            Writing is an artistic medium which can change based on the environment you are writing in… Writing in places where you may have emotional and cultural ties can help you easily communicate your feelings. 

That certainly held true for me.

            The ambience of your environment is a powerful characteristic that can affect your writing. Your brain constantly picks up information from your surroundings, and your senses affect your thinking. Things like air temperature, environment, weather, and odours are processed subconsciously by you.

The human brain never ceases to amaze me. Salt air and the ambiance of the Atlantic reignited my passion to write for children.

From Brainly.ph

         The environment in which a writer lives can shape their perspective, attitudes, beliefs, and values, which can, in turn, influence the themes and messages in their literary works. For example, the Romantic poets were heavily influenced by the natural beauty of their surroundings, and their works often reflected their appreciation of nature and the importance of individual experience.

The physical environment of a region can also influence the literature that emerges from it. For instance, writers living in harsh, rural environments may draw on their experiences of hardship and survival to create stories about resilience and perseverance.

From Princeton.edu

         Scholars of great literature often are intrigued by questions that lie outside the pages of the text. For English professor Diana Fuss, one question that consumed her was: Where did my favorite writers write?

To find the answers, Fuss wrote “The Sense of an Interior: Four Writers and the Rooms That Shaped Them,” a study of the living and writing spaces of four well-known authors.

In the book, Fuss described the smoky ambiance of Sigmund Freud’s consulting room, the view from Emily Dickinson’s bedroom window, the inhospitality of Helen Keller’s house, and the claustrophobic atmosphere of Marcel Proust’s bedroom. The purpose of the book was to understand how the writers experienced their writing spaces.

“When these figures inhabited these domestic interiors, what were they seeing, hearing, smelling and touching?” Fuss said. “What was the full sensory experience of inhabiting that space, and how did the domestic interior shape the acts of introspection that took place there?”

Fuss noted that Proust, who suffered from asthma, lived in a cork-lined room with heavy drapes to keep out natural light and air. The author of “Remembrance of Things Past,” a work suffused in sensory experience, “found it necessary to suspend the senses in order to write about them,” according to Fuss.

Her findings corrected some misconceptions. Dickinson, for example, has long been portrayed as a helpless agoraphobic trapped in a dark, coffin-like room in her father’s house. When in fact, Dickinson’s corner bedroom had the best light and views in the entire house.

“It was a room that invested her with scopic power,” Fuss said. “Far from being confined in her room, she in fact was a kind of family sentinel.”

TKZers, let me ask you the question I posed earlier.

How much does your environment influence the stories you write? If you’ve resided or spent an extended period elsewhere, did you write in the same genre? How did your stories change, if it all?

Choosing A Unique (But Fitting) Talent for Your Character

I’m traveling today, so I invited the uber-talented Becca Puglisi to fill in for me. Don’t be shy in leaving her comments. I’ll join you tomorrow when I return from vacation. Enjoy!

I truly believe that excellent stories require excellent characters. And with so many books already out there—4 million published in the US in 2022 alone—we’ve got to be able to deliver compelling and realistic characters to set our stories apart. How do we do it? By focusing on the details. And one of the markers that can really boost individuality and memorability for a character is their particular talents or skills.

Every person has something they’re good at. Sometimes it’s a gift they’re born with that comes naturally; for others, it’s a carefully nurtured and honed ability. Many times, a character’s talent says something about who they are: it may tie into their belief system, meet a missing need, honor an influential person in their life, or reveal associated personality traits.

But despite the many talents and skills out there, we tend to see the same ones in books all the time. Now, if your story requires your character have a certain ability, that’s fine; sometimes, we don’t get to choose their special abilities. But if you’ve got more latitude, consider one of the following techniques for coming up with a skill that’s a little more original.

Go for Something Unusual

Sometimes it’s as easy as thinking beyond the obvious options. Instead of being a strong runner or artist, maybe your character could have a talent that’s a little less mainstream, like sleight of hand, lip-reading, or a knack for languages. Do you need them to be an athlete? Consider a sport readers haven’t seen a million times, like cricket, curling, water polo, or parkour. Your skilled forager could be urban rather than rural, fishing goodies out storm drains or dumpsters.

If you’re writing in a genre with fantastical elements, you can get really creative by giving your character an extrasensory ability or something that’s specific to your fantasy or paranormal world. Their skill will obviously have to work within the overall story and the world you’ve created, but you have more choices than you know, so don’t be afraid to branch out and try something new.

Encourage Your Character to Specialize

One way to come up with an unusual ability is to take a popular one and make it more specific. If your character is mechanically inclined, they may be particularly adept with machines from a certain region, time period, or industry. A marksman might specialize in one weapon, and maybe it’s not the typical rifle (Crossbow? Darts? Slingshot?). Your assassin may prefer to work with and have extensive knowledge of poisons. Breathe new life into a ho-hum strength by narrowing the focus.

Give a Common Talent a Twist

It’s not always necessary to reinvent the wheel; often, you can come up with something new by tweaking a popular talent. If musicality is your character’s thing, don’t make her a singer or piano player; maybe she really shines by writing music or crafting certain instruments. A character’s photographic memory may only be reliable for a few hours after events have happened. A person who blows off steam by knitting might use their talent to create blankets for preemies or hats for the homeless. In the latter case, the talent can also hint at personality traits (empathy, selflessness, generosity), hobbies, or other areas of passion.

We get more bang for the buck when our characterization and description elements do double duty, so if a character’s skill can also say something about who they are, that’s a bonus for readers.

Pair It with an Unexpected Personality Trait

Many skills are associated with certain traits because they often go together. For instance, people who are good with numbers are usually pretty analytical. But that doesn’t mean the two have to go together. A character with this ability could be highly creative or emotional, instead, and you’d end up with someone unexpected. Likewise, you could have a gifted public speaker who is painfully shy, stumbling their way through one-on-one conversations. This trick can be especially helpful when your story requires a common talent; get creative with your character’s traits, instead, and you can come up with something new that will pique readers’ interests.

In conclusion, an area of skill is a great way to individualize a character—but remember that it can’t be random. There are reasons people embrace and nurture certain talents. They come from somewhere: a natural aptitude, a shared passion with a loved one, the desire for approval or acceptance, etc. So a special ability shouldn’t be chosen at random. Always know the why behind it. Once you’ve ensured it ties naturally into their overall character profile, use these suggestions to take a character’s talent or skill to the next level.

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and other resources for writers. Her books have sold over 1 million copies and are available in multiple languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world.

She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online resource for authors that’s home to the Character Builder and Storyteller’s Roadmap tools.

 

The Deuteragonist

Deuteragonist – noun — the actor next in importance to the protagonist.

* * *

We all know what a protagonist and an antagonist are, but I had never heard the word “deuteragonist” until a few months ago. It comes from the Greek word “deuteros,” meaning “second.” But a deuteragonist is not just a secondary character, he/she is the secondary character.

Wikipedia tells us that ancient Greek drama originally had only one actor, the protagonist, and a group of dancers, the chorus. But then the playwright Aeschylus introduced a second character, the deuteragonist, in his plays.

Aristotle explained it in his work Poetics.

“Thus, it was Aeschylus who first raised the number of the actors from one to two. He also curtailed the chorus and made the dialogue be the leading part.”

So we can thank Aeschylus, who lived 2500 years ago, for the addition of the second character in drama, an innovation which enabled dialogue and conflict.

* * *

“The more complex you make your secondary characters, the more lifelike and involving your story will be.” –Donald Maass

So how is the deuteragonist different from the other secondary characters in today’s fiction?

According to studiobinder.com

“A deuteragonist is the second most important character in a story. This person is also known as the ‘secondary main character.’ While the protagonist gives us our primary point of view of the story, the deuteragonist often provides a different, but often similar, outlook.”

* * *

The deuteragonist can serve different purposes, depending on the author’s goals. But whatever role the deuteragonist plays, he/she should complement the protagonist  in a way that affects the main character’s arc in the story.

 

One possibility is as a supporter, friend, or assistant to the protagonist. Dr. Watson is a famous example of this type of deuteragonist in the Sherlock Holmes books. Watson not only narrates the stories, his gentlemanly compassion contrasts nicely with the purely logical Holmes.

 

 

The deuteragonist can also be a love interest. An example of this could be from the movie “Titanic” where Jack Dawson (Leonardo DeCaprio) plays the main secondary to Rose (Kate Winslet). In the movie, Jack shows Rose there is more to life than the suffocating high society she’s being forced into.

 

 

Villains are always useful in helping protagonists overcome their shortcomings and face down danger. An example of this was the film “Die Hard” where the protagonist John McClane (Bruce Willis) matches wits with the villainous deuteragonist Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman.)

So there you have it. A deuteragonist can add spice and complexity to a story while enhancing the protagonist’s character arc.

* * *

“The three things that matter most in a story are characters, characters and characters.” –Bob Gale

* * *

So TKZers: Are there deuteragonists that you like from books or films? Have you used a deuteragonist in any of your stories? Do you plan to? Tell us about them.

* * *

 

Protagonist Kathryn Frasier trains for a marathon, deuteragonist Cece Goldman rehearses for a play, and antagonist murderers hide in plain sight in The Watch Mysteries, an ebook boxset of three complete novels available at AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboGoogle Play, or Apple Books. (Today is the last day of the 99¢ sale.)

Emotional Trigger Words + The Id

A trigger word is a word that evokes a strong emotional reaction to compel someone to act. The reaction could be anything from clicking an article, opening an email, or buying a product. Like with most things in life, we don’t want to abuse trigger words. If used ethically, trigger words can help our books/newsletters/blog/articles reach a wider audience.

How are Emotional Triggers Formed?

The same way we trigger emotion in readers—tickle the senses. Some of our most powerful memories include the smell, sound, or taste of certain things when associated with a positive or negative connotation. But trigger words work differently.

All decisions made by us or others consist of multiple conscious and subconscious emotions. By delving into the psychology behind human behavior, we can increase sales and visibility.

4 Emotional Triggers

#1) Belonging

It’s human nature to want to belong to something. The writing community, a family, book clubs, critique groups, a religious organization, or other social groups. Giving people a sense of belonging works remarkably well. For example, I write “join my community” rather than “subscribe (which has a negative connotation) to my newsletter.” That little tweak makes a huge difference in how the message is received.

Trigger words for belonging

  • Community
  • Join
  • Become a member
  • Mutual
  • We
  • Together
  • Society
  • Neighborhood

#2) Fear

I can’t see why authors would want to use a fear tactic, but it’s listed as a marketing ploy. Though you could use fear triggers as keywords or in a book description.

Trigger words for fear

  • Worry
  • Anxiety
  • Concern
  • Terror
  • Death
  • Toxic
  • Mistake
  • Embarrassed
  • Nightmare
  • Doubt
  • Phobia
  • Horrific
  • Disastrous
  • Plummet
  • Warning
  • Danger
  • Looming
  • Shattered

#3) Guilt

Guilt is a powerful emotion, right? Charity organizations overuse this tactic. For us, triggering a guilt response would not be an effective way to market books. But we can use the trigger words in book descriptions or as keywords/key phrases for better targeting.

Trigger words for guilt

  • Goodwill
  • Humane
  • Disgrace
  • Shame
  • Disgusting
  • Charity
  • Donation
  • Mercy
  • Kindness
  • Empathy
  • Generosity
  • Compassion
  • Bleed for
  • Sympathize with
  • Feel for
  • Grief
  • Sorrow
  • Understand

#4) Trust

Trust is important for building a long-term business. When readers trust you to deliver the same quality in each book, article, or newsletter, you’ll build a loyal audience. Don’t try to fake this emotion, or it’ll backfire.

A few ways to show you’re trustworthy

  • Be transparent
  • Display reviews from other readers
  • Be genuine
  • Show you’re human, not perfect

In one newsletter, I wrote, “I have no words of wisdom for you today. The well is dry. I left all my emotions on the page.” I never once tried to fake it. And y’know what? I received the sweetest responses. Being emotionally spent is something we’ve all experienced, so we relate. We empathize.

Trigger words for trust

  • Caring
  • Fair treatment
  • Quality
  • Competency
  • Apologize
  • Sorry
  • Change
  • Never
  • Always
  • Privacy

The Pleasure Principle

In Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalysis, he described the pleasure principle as the instinctual force that motivates people to seek pleasure, to satisfy biological and psychological needs, and to avoid pain. The id resides in a primitive part of the psyche and is the only part of the personality that’s present at birth. Which explains the terrible twos. The ego doesn’t develop till age three or four.

Three major components of personality

  • The id – impulsive part of one’s personality that is driven by pleasure and repulsed by pain
  • Ego – conscious part of one’s personality that mediates between the id and superego and makes decisions
  • Superego – judgmental and morally correct part of one’s personality

Freud conceived the id as the unconscious mind’s primary source of motivation for all human behavior, from basic wants and needs (think: hunger and thirst) to emotional expression, impulses (think: aggression), and sexual desires. The id acts according to the pleasure principle — it seeks to fulfill its needs and desires in any way possible while avoiding pain or discomfort.

We live in a world of immediate gratification. No longer do we need to wait for the stores to stock a new album or novel. We can download it in seconds.

Can you guess how social media might affect the balance of the three components of personality? Likes, comments, and shares feed the id while making it difficult for the ego to mediate the feud with the superego. Hence why some people feel the need to condemn others and cast judgment.

TKZers, have you considered using psychology in your marketing? Do you use trigger words in book descriptions, keywords, and/or marketing?

Please note: I’ll be on the road today and will respond to comments later this afternoon. Hope you all have a fabulous day!

Reader Friday-What’s Your AKA?

By Deb Gorman

A nickname is a substitute for the proper name of a person, place or thing. It is commonly used to express affection, amusement, a character trait or defamation of character. It is distinct from a pseudonym, stage name or title, although the concepts can overlap. Nicknames are typically informal. Wikipedia

Doing just a cursory search on the internet of the word nickname yielded some doozies–especially those from the middle ages. It might be worth a laugh or two for you to take a look.

Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel (Image courtesy of Wikipedia)

 

 

I came across Benjamin Siegel, AKA Bugsy. I tried to discover why he acquired that moniker, but couldn’t find the origin. I did find out that his killer was never brought to justice.

I guess a cool nickname doesn’t mean much when you’re a bad guy.

***

I had a couple when I was a wee lass. My siblings called me Debo (pronounced Dee-bo), and my dad called me Housemouse–because I preferred being in the house reading instead of out of the house playing. My dad and brother still call me those names on occasion.

Or, just these . . .

And this one from a way long time ago!

 

 

 

 

 

How about you, TKZers? Did you ever have a nickname growing up, cool or otherwise? Does anyone still call you by that name? And, do you give your characters nicknames?

Do tell  . . .

Running and Writing
  and the Marathon

Come what may, all bad fortune is to be conquered by endurance.  –Virgil

* * *

Writing a novel is often compared to running a marathon, and my experience dealing with the unexpected in the London Marathon in April 2010 was a good rehearsal for my later efforts in writing.

I’ve never been a good marathon runner. I’m better suited for the half-marathon. But in 2009, having completed three marathons (San Antonio, Vancouver, and Toronto), I decided I’d go for just one more. And I wanted to run one of the big marathons for that once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I told my husband I’d like to celebrate our anniversary in 2010 with a trip to the UK where I would run the London Marathon in honor of our marriage. Then we could spend a week or so vacationing. Frank was supportive, and for some unknown reason, I was convinced everything would go my way.

Hmm.

The major marathons are so popular that they can’t admit everyone who wants to enter. If you’re a very good runner and can meet the qualifying time for your age group, you’ll be entered. But if you’re like most runners (me, for instance) and can’t meet the qualifying time, they’ll put your name into a lottery and it’s just a matter of chance.

So when they opened the online registration in April 2009, I jumped in and registered along with 150,000 other runners. Although only about a quarter of those would get places, I was ridiculously confident. Around October, I received an email from the London Marathon notifying me that I wasn’t chosen. Rats.

But they held out another possibility. I could run for a charity. “That’s even better,” I thought. I could do a good deed as well as run the marathon. So I applied to several of the charities that I thought I’d like to support, and a few weeks later, one of them called. With about four months to go, I had cleared the first hurdle. I was in the race.

I was sure that from then on everything would be smooth sailing. (You can smile now.)

My running buddies at work were all excited that I was going to run the London, and that made me even more determined to do well. When they asked what kind of time I was planning on, I spouted off a near-impossible-for-me number. But if everything went perfectly, maybe I could make it.

Everything did not go perfectly.

  • Our treadmill, on which I was doing almost half of my training, broke. We needed a new one anyway, so we bought a bigger, better model. A few days of training lost.
  • I injured my knee in a tempo run. A couple of weeks of training lost.

I had stumbled over those first hurdles, but my excitement continued to ramp up as the days ticked closer to the race. Since I suffer from jetlag on international trips, we planned to fly to London six days prior to the marathon to allow my body to adjust to the time change before the race. But then…disaster.

  • A few days before our scheduled departure, I woke up to the news that a volcano in Iceland had erupted, volcanic ash was drifting over western Europe, and airports were closing. Heathrow was one of them. Our flight was cancelled.

You can overcome a lot of obstacles. But a volcano? Time to throw in the towel.

But then the winds shifted, and airports reopened. We managed to get on a flight that put us in London in the early morning hours of Friday before Sunday’s race day. Okay, so my jetlag would be a problem, but the excitement of the race would probably overcome that. (Are you laughing yet?)

I dragged myself out of bed on race day after just a few hours of sleep to discover there were more obstacles: the weather was warm (not good) and it was drizzling rain (super not good). Frank and I agreed on where we’d meet after the race, and he walked me to the starting area to join the other thirty-seven thousand people who had paid perfectly good money to punish their bodies for 26.2 miles.

But at least I had made it to the starting line. Now all I had to do was finish.

The London Marathon is unique. It’s a big party, and many of the marathoners wear costumes. One guy was dressed in a full suit of armor and someone else was carrying a huge replica of the Angel of the North sculpture on his back.

As time ticked down to the start, you could feel the buzz in the air. After an entire year of waiting, hoping, training, and planning, the starter’s pistol fired, and we were off.

I wish I could say everything went well.

  • For the first time ever, my GPS watch malfunctioned. Bad omen.
  • Another first: I got a side stitch. At least now I can describe in a book what it feels like to be stabbed just below the ribs.
  • As the miles went on, fatigue set in, and I realized I was getting a blister on one of my heels.
  • By the time I got to the eighteen-mile mark, I was starving. I guess the time change had messed up my body clock. Honestly, if I had seen a child holding a sandwich by the side of the course, I probably would have snatched it out of the kid’s hand and run away before anyone could catch me. But there were no sandwiches, my back and foot hurt, and I was run-walking so slow that I knew I was going to turn in a terrible time.

* * *

That’s when I had THE THOUGHT. I could quit. I could just step off the course, find a volunteer to give me a cart-ride to the finish, and it would be over. I wouldn’t suffer the embarrassment of a poor showing. I’d just tell everybody I was injured and couldn’t finish. I could bandage my foot and take an Advil and eat a steak dinner and forget this stupid marathon. The whole thing was wrong from the start. Why hadn’t I seen that? Why did I have to be so stubborn when there were just too many problems to overcome?

That little exercise in self-pity and frustration got me through the next mile or two. Then I had the SECOND THOUGHT. I would cross the finish line even if I had to crawl. Even if I was the last person across. Even if they had taken down the banners and all the volunteers had gone home and I didn’t get a medal or a T-shirt. Even if my feet were bleeding so profusely that I was leaving a trail of blood behind me on the course. (Self-martyrdom can be useful in certain situations.)

And I knew no matter how long it took, Frank would be waiting for me, and I knew exactly what he’d say when he saw me. After all, this was the race to honor our marriage, not to show off my great (ha!) running talent.

Those reflections got me through another mile or two, and then I was within just a few miles of the finish, so it didn’t make sense to quit.

I crossed the finish line. I didn’t crawl, and I wasn’t the last person in the race. There were still a couple of thousand people behind me, including angel sculpture man and the guy in the suit of armor. A volunteer hung a medal around my neck and someone else handed me a T-shirt that said “LonDONE 25.04.10.” Then I walked into the meeting area and saw Frank waving. As I limped toward him with my hair frizzy from the rain and my clothes damp with sweat, he jogged over and put his arm around me. “Great race, honey.”

* * *

So yeah. Writing a novel, especially a first one, is a lot like running a marathon. You start out with all this enthusiasm and confidence, but then things get hard, much harder than you thought. There are unexpected challenges, and it’s discouraging when agents and publishers don’t immediately see your genius and rush to sign you to a life-long contract.

That’s when many people give up. They hit the wall and decide it’s not worth all the pain and disappointment. According to selfpublishingus.com, only about 3% of people who start writing a book actually finish it. And of those, even fewer have their book published. But for those of us who stay in the race, there’s a satisfaction of accomplishment few have known.

I learned some lessons from the London Marathon that I believe apply to my writing.

  • Life (and running and writing) is more about what you put into it than what you get out.
  • It’s more about fighting the good fight than winning.
  • It’s more about the journey than the destination.
  • You value what you earn more than what someone gives you.

And in the long run (pun intended), whether it’s running or writing or living, endurance is more important than talent.

* * *

 

This has been a very long TKZ blog post, and if you made it to the end, you deserve a medal. Maybe you should consider running a marathon.

 

 

* * *

So TKZers: Have you ever run a marathon?
Have you faced obstacles when writing your books?
How do you deal with the setbacks?

* * *

 

Kathryn Frasier is training for her first marathon, but murderers keep getting in her way.

Run with Kathryn in The Watch Mysteries. The ebook boxset is on sale at  AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboGoogle Play, or Apple Books.

How Did I Get Here?

With Memorial Day upon us, many folks will be on the road, listening to music or daydreaming while stuck in traffic. Nothing at all interesting about it. Though we want our stories to mimic real life, showing every moment or mile gets boring and repetitive fast.

My characters are constantly on the move. If I showed the entire drive, boat ride, or flight, I’d destroy the pacing. Instead, move characters from point A to B by skipping the boring parts.

via GIPHY
When we jump ahead, tell the reader how much time has passed.

Nothing is more jarring than a character at home one minute and in the next paragraph they’re in a new location with no explanation of how they got there. Ground the reader in the first sentence. Or at least, in the first paragraph. Some writers include a scene break between paragraphs — either white space or *** — but that still does not absolve us from orienting the reader.

Show the characters getting into the car. Add a few lines of plot-related dialogue or trees zip past the window to show movement. And boom, they arrive at their new destination. Or, if nothing interesting happens, write something like…

Forty grueling minutes later without air conditioner, I arrived at the hotel with a wet scalp and my t-shirt molded to my chest.

A new chapter signals a time or POV change and/or a new setting.

It’s fine to speed past uneventful stretches in a story. In fact, it’s encouraged. Just be sure to give the reader a sense of how much time has lapsed, especially at the start of a new chapter. Even if we include a timestamp, we should still mention it as many readers will only recall whether the previous chapter took place during daylight or darkness.

Don’t make them have to backtrack to guess where or when the chapter begins.

If the action continues from the previous chapter, it’s still a good idea to set the scene with a brief mention of any time gaps or sensory cue to ground the reader. It doesn’t have to be complicated. “A few hours later” does the trick.

Establish who is present in every scene.

Nothing irks me more than a character appearing out of nowhere to offer a clue when they weren’t in the scene earlier. Too convenient. And frankly, obvious and lazy.

Again, adding a character to a scene needn’t be complicated…

The screen door slapped open, and Jack strolled out to the porch.

Now the reader knows he’s there, so when he offers that all-important clue, it makes sense within the scene.

Change in POV

As a reader and a writer, I don’t understand the fad of including the POV character’s name at the top of each chapter. In my opinion, it’s unnecessary. If we ground the reader in the character’s POV right away, they should know whose head they’re in without a label. If they don’t, then we’ve failed to set the scene. I prefer rotating POVs. They’re easy to follow and add to the overall rhythm of the story.

If you want to include the POV character’s name as a chapter heading, then by all means do so. It’s your story.

The main takeaway for this post is to orient the reader, whether the characters are on the move or we switch to a new POV.

For writers: How do you handle travel or signal a change in POV?

For readers: Have you ever been jarred out of a story due to a change in space or time?

Happy Memorial Day to TKZers in the U.S.!

Clerihew, Haiku, and You

A word fitly spoken
    is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.

–Proverbs 25:11

* * *

A few months ago, James Scott Bell posted Micro Fiction for Your Writer’s Brain on TKZ. It was about writing fiction that was less than 500 words long. (I’ll wait while you go back and review.)

That post gave me an idea for writing about even shorter form fiction, and I came across a few types that are both fun and challenging.

The Clerihew

The clerihew is a form of poetry that was invented by E.C. Bentley, the author of Trent’s Last Case and other novels. Bentley’s full name happens to be Edmund Clerihew Bentley. I guess when you have a middle name like Clerihew, you may as well come up with some clever and inventive use of it.

Here’s the definition of clerihew from Wikipedia:

clerihew (ˈklɛrɪhjuː) is a whimsical, four-line biographical poem of a type invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley. The first line is the name of the poem’s subject, usually a famous person, and the remainder puts the subject in an absurd light or reveals something unknown or spurious about the subject. The rhyme scheme is AABB, and the rhymes are often forced. The line length and metre are irregular. Bentley invented the clerihew in school and then popularized it in books.

Here are a couple of examples:

Sir Humphry Davy
Abominated gravy.
He lived in the odium
Of having discovered sodium.

Did Descartes
Depart
With the thought
“Therefore I’m not”?

Here’s my humble attempt:

Albert Einstein
Had a very great mind
While in his prime
He relativized time

* * *

The Haiku

Back in 2021, Steve Hooley and his sister, Joyce, wrote a wonderful TKZ post on haiku poetry.

Dictionary.com defines haiku as

a major form of Japanese verse, written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons.

Here are a couple of rather famous ones:

“A Caterpillar” by Matsuo Basho

A caterpillar,
This deep in fall –
Still not a butterfly.

 

“A Poppy Blooms” by Katsushika Hokusai

I write, erase, rewrite
Erase again, and then
A poppy blooms.

 

And another one by me:

Azalea blossoms
Pink, but ragged on the edge
Tomorrow’s lovers

* * *

The Limerick

Here’s what Britannica.com has to say about this poetic form:

Limerick, a popular form of short, humorous verse that is often nonsensical and frequently ribald. It consists of five lines, rhyming aabba, and the dominant metre is anapestic, with two metrical feet in the third and fourth lines and three feet in the others. The origin of the limerick is unknown, but it has been suggested that the name derives from the chorus of an 18th-century Irish soldiers’ song, “Will You Come Up to Limerick?” To this were added impromptu verses crowded with improbable incident and subtle innuendo.

 

Here’s a non-ribald example.

A tutor who taught on the flute
Tried to teach two tooters to toot.
Said the two to the tutor,
“Is it harder to toot, or
To tutor two tooters to toot?”

Personally, I love limericks. I occasionally compose one in honor of politicians or other strange creatures.  😎 I won’t share any of those, but here’s one I made up just for today:

My computer decided to die
Just as the deadline drew nigh
When the publisher screamed
I knew I was creamed
So I kissed my contract good-bye

* * *

So TKZers: What do you think about these poetic short forms? Pick one or two (or all three) and astound us by entering your work in the comments. Include something in your poem about one of your books if you’re so inclined.

* * *

There once was a pilot named Cassie
An intrepid sleuth was this lassie
She flew into danger,
But it didn’t change her
And she found the murderer fastly.

A 2024 Eric Hoffer Grand Prize Award Finalist

Buy on AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboGoogle Play, or Apple Books.

Yes or No Questions in Dialogue

Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/geralt-9301/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=973992">Gerd Altmann</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=973992">Pixabay</a>The other day, I stumbled across writing advice that was only half-true. The advice said to never use yes or no questions in dialogue. The writer made a valid point that yes/no questions stop the action. True. But that’s only half right.

If the MC asks a yes/no question, the action doesn’t need to stop if it’s in the right context, with body language that screams the opposite, or includes hints the character might be lying. We can also use “Yes/No, but” to maintain pace and the trajectory of the story and to create more conflict.

Let’s look at a few examples. I wrote these quick so no judgments. 😉

“Junior, did you steal another cookie from the jar?”

The little boy dragged the back of his wrist across chocolate-covered lips. “No, Mama.”

The story continues because the kid’s body language tells us he’s lying.

Big Dan stroked his daughter’s back. “Are you excited to marry Tommy?”

Yes, but not today.”

“We’re in the church!”

The wedding song blared from the speakers.

“Tell me what you want to do, honey.”

“Hide?”

There’s more to that story, right?

“Why didn’t you come home last night, sis?”

“I stayed at a hotel.”

“Which one?”

“Why? What’s it matter?”

“Jason didn’t come home, either.”

“You think I slept with your husband?”

“Did you?”

“Are you seriously asking me if I’m having an affair with Jason?”

Notice how she responds with another question? Sounds a lot like guilt. Or maybe it’s anger. We’ll keep reading to find out.

“Is that blood?”

Silent, he wiped his cheek.

“You promised me.”

He strode into the kitchen, with the nag on his heels. “I did not kill our babysitter.”

“Then where is she? I won’t go through it again. The cops, the jury, the reporters.” A continual tap of her foot clenched his jaw. “If you’re innocent, give me the basement key.”

No.” He sniggered. “But it’s about time I gave you a private tour.”

Will he kill her, or is he innocent? We’ll keep reading to find out.

This last example I borrowed from one of my novels. The “no, but” construction is in bold. For clarity, Poe is a crow.

“You bought Poe a necklace,” he said as a statement, not a question. “After eleven p.m.”

“Yep.”

“And you paid for the necklace?”

“Cost me three hundred bucks.”

“If you bought the jewelry, you could produce a receipt. Correct?”

Crap. “Not exactly.”

“Be honest with me. Did you steal the necklace?”

“No, sir. I swear I didn’t. Ask Poe if you don’t believe me.”

“Perhaps I should rephrase.” Praying hands tapped his lips. “Was the store open when you allegedly paid for the jewelry?”

I picked at my cuticles. “No, but I swear I didn’t steal it.”

“And the reason you couldn’t wait for the store to reopen is…?”

“Because Pissy Pants over there”—I jutted a thumb at the little diva—“wouldn’t even gimme twenty-four hours. If anyone should be in trouble, it’s him. Unless you condone blackmail?”

He rocked back on his heels. “Blackmail?”

So, can we use a yes/no question in dialogue? Absolutely… if it leads to more conflict. Otherwise, we’ve wasted precious real estate.

Thoughts? There is a ton of terrible or incomplete writing advice online. Have any new ones to share? Please explain why the advice doesn’t make sense.