The Power of Words – And Writing Contests

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“But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.” — Lord Byron

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I was asked to say a few words at the upcoming Memphis Public Libraries Richard Wright Literary Awards ceremony later this week. The awards contest is for authors who live in and around Memphis, and the ceremony is held in the main library.

I came up with several thoughts, but finally settled on a theme about the power of words. The basic text of the talk is shown below (with the intro, the joke, and the conclusion removed.) I’d be interested to get your thoughts.

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It has been said that the pen is mightier than the sword. Nathaniel Hawthorne famously said that words in a dictionary are innocent and powerless, but “how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.”

Perhaps the most striking statement about the power of words is in the first book of the Bible, where we read the very first words that God utters when He says, “Let there be light.” I’m not a theologian, but I suspect those words mean more than just the creation of photons. After all, light is frequently used as a metaphor for wisdom, knowledge, and understanding, and those are characteristics that move mankind from ignorance to awareness, and that kind of light is usually conveyed through the power of words.

In this room, there are authors who come from different backgrounds, who write different genres, and who have different stories to tell. And yet, with all our differences, we have one thing in common. We’ve been given the gift of words, and we want those words to shine light into the darker corners of our world. To touch people’s lives, to make them laugh or cry, to make them think, to inspire and challenge our readers.

These are lofty goals. To meet them, our writing needs to achieve a certain level of excellence, but unfortunately, we can’t judge the quality of our own work. For that, we need knowledgeable people to read our stories and give us honest, unbiased feedback. That’s where writing awards contests come into play.

It’s through writing contests like this one that we begin to understand how well our writing stacks up against the work of other authors. Competition is good. It’s an incentive for us to improve, to raise the bar, to make the next book better than the last.

My husband and I have both been fortunate to have won a Richard Wright award, and we believe the Memphis Public Libraries Awards contest is one of best there is. After all, what better award contest could there be than one where the judges are members of a library staff and volunteers who spend much of their lives among books? And what better place to celebrate the accomplishments of a group of writers than in a library?

You’re all finalists in the Richard Wright Literary Award competition. You’ve cleared a major hurdle, and you deserve recognition for your achievement. To be a finalist for a Richard Wright award is not only affirmation about the quality of your work, but it’s also a chance to honor the legacy of Mr. Wright.

Whatever the outcome of the awards, let’s also remember that we’re here to share our journey with our colleagues, to reach out to new writers, and to build the community of authors in Memphis. Congratulations and good luck to all!

* * *

So TKZers: What are your thoughts about the power of the written word? Do you think awards contests are valuable? Unbiased feedback is always welcome.

* * *

 

 Coming Soon!

The Other Side of Sunshine
A Middle Grade Mystery

When spunky ten-year-old Reen learns of a hidden treasure in her quiet university town, she enlists the help of her shy nine-year-old cousin Joanie to help her find the loot. They form the R&J Detective Agency and follow clues through dictionaries, microfiche machines, and all around the campus. But Reen’s arch-nemesis Alicia is looking for the treasure too, and she’s not playing by the rules.

 

 

Write Like Melted Butter

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Back in the day (and for you kids, when an author of my vintage uses “back in the day” that’s a bit further than when The Big Bang Theory was a hit) there was a TV commercial for Thomas’ English Muffins. A narrator extolled the benefits of said breadstuff, then a smiling kid held one up and said, “And lots of nooks and crannies to hold the melted butter!”

I salute the ad man who came up with this line, because back in that same day the federal gummint guidelines had butter on its dietary hit list. Bosh, thought the ad man. That smooth, warm taste of liquified gold coating the taste buds is the most enjoyable part of this culinary treat.

Which is how I think about style in fiction. When the prose has nooks and crannies of “unobtrusive poetry” (as the great John D. MacDonald put it) my reading pleasure buds pop with delight and I am likely to search out more offerings from that writer.

Which brings me to the subject of metaphors and similes. They are the melted butter of prose.

For example, Raymond Chandler would have been just another detective fiction scribbler were it not for the magic of his style. Here are a few of my favorites:

It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window. (Farewell, My Lovely)  

I lit a cigarette. It tasted like a plumber’s handkerchief. (Farewell, My Lovely)

She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. (The Big Sleep)

Here are some from other authors:

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances. (Shakespeare, As You Like It)

“Sit down, Montag. Watch. Delicately, like the petals of a flower. Light the first page, light the second page. Each becomes a black butterfly. Beautiful, eh?” (Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451)

She faced the children’s mother, a young woman in slacks, whose face was as broad and innocent as a cabbage and was tied around with a green head-kerchief that had two points on the top like a rabbit’s ears. (Flannery O’Connor, “A Good Man is Hard to Find”)

She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it’s there, because it can’t hurt, and because what difference does it make? (Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon)

I shall now lay down the rule (yes, I said it) for metaphors and similes: they must be in the words that the viewpoint character would actually say or think. If they are not, it is no longer unobtrusive. It’ll stick out like a garlic breath burp at a dinner party. (Hey, not bad.)

There is only one exception to this rule, and that is if the voice of the author is the selling point, the raison d’etre of the book’s allure. Old-school Omniscient POV (e.g., Dickens) had it. So did the post-realist novels of the 60s and 70s (e.g., Vonnegut, Pynchon). Almost always it is found in comic novels, e.g., Douglas Adams, and most abundantly in the writing of the late Tom Robbins. You read his books for the flights of literary fancy, the voice of mushroom-laced, hippie-dipped, Zen-flavored farce:

Every toilet bowl gurgled like an Italian tenor with a mouthful of Lavoris, and the refrigerators made noises at night like buffalo grazing. (Jitterbug Perfume)

Like a neon fox tongue lapping up the powdered bones of space chickens, the Rising Sun licked away at the light snow that had fallen during the night. (Skinny Legs and All)

It was as if the dishwater, as gray and oily as a mobster’s haircut, washed away his arrogant confusion. (Skinny Legs and All)

So how can you find your own melted butter? Wide reading of authors who do this well is, of course, a given. In addition, I offer a couple of writing exercises to expand your style muscle. Note, this means you do the heavy lifting in your own brain; it can’t be handed to you by a machine. It’s fun, costs nothing, and will improve all of your writing.

People Pegging

Go to a public place—a park, a coffeehouse, a mall—and people watch. Home in on someone for a few seconds, then write in your notebook the following:

  1. He walks like a __________
  2. If he were an animal, he’d be a ____________
  3. His mood is the color of a ___________

Detail Digging

Wherever you are, pick a random item within your sight—pen, cough drop, lip balm, glasses, book, cup. Then:

  1. Write five things this item reminds you of.
  2. How would an advanced-race alien describe this item?
  3. Imagine this item appearing in your novel. From your Lead character’s POV, write three metaphors—one based on sight, one on touch, and one on smell.

Spend just an hour doing one or both of these exercises and you will actually feel your style improving.

Which is so worth it. Raymond Chandler would have told you that. This observation was found in one of his notebooks after his death:

“Without magic, there is no art. Without art, there is no idealism. Without idealism, there is no integrity. Without integrity, there is nothing but production.”

Don’t just produce. Monkeys can do that. AI is doing it now. Who cares?

Bring a little magic to your prose.

Write like melted butter.

Do you think about style when you write and/or edit? Do you search out fresh metaphors and similes? Do you love it when a writer is able to pull off “unobtrusive poetry”?

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?

The Unexpected Sells

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In the March/April 2025 issue of Writer’s Digest, there’s an interesting article titled The Unexpected Sells. The subtitle is Why Agents Want Genre-Defying Stories. It opens with, “In an industry built on tradition, the rise of genre-blending and trope-defying manuscripts is not just a trend but a potential goldmine for aspiring authors”.

There may be some truth to this statement. A year or so ago, I posted a piece on the Kill Zone called Slipstream — A unique, Hybrid Fiction Cross-Genre. It opened with “…I’m intentionally breaking all the rules.”

There was definitely some truth to that statement, but that’s okay as the film rights to my City Of Danger project are secured, and it’s moving toward production. Now it’s a matter of waiting till the delivery technology is in place. That might be two years away.

I moved from the true crime and crime fiction slots where I’d been working. Part of it was a urge to try something new, and part of it was a hunch not to play it safe and maybe, just maybe, reinvent the wheel. God knows I’d be a disaster in writing romance or erotica, but I went down a road filled with bumps of hardboiled & noir detective fiction, lumps of futuristic sci-fi, potholes of 1920s nostalgia, and a dangerous curve of time travelling thriller/suspense.

It was weird enough to catch, not the eye of a publishing agent, but the ear of a film producer. However, they have similar interests, and that’s finding new material they can sell – hopefully, safely. “Something different, but not to different,” are words I have heard. City Of Danger seems to have met the “different” test.

Writer’s Digest goes on to say, “Clearly defined genres have long dominated the publishing landscape, each catering to specific audiences. These days, a shift is underway. Readers now yearn for stories as intricate and multi-leveled as their lives—stories that refuse to be confined to a single category. This thirst for originality has paved the way for genre-defying narratives to shine.”

The WD article gives examples of recent successful stories that shun predictable formulas. These are authors and titles I’m not familiar with, but they’ve “balanced innovation and execution”. Helpfully, WD addresses the challenges of writing hybrid narratives and principles of positioning the work.

In closing, WD says, “It’s time to take the risks. The unexpected sells because it surprises, delights, and connects. So, dare to be different. Today’s market isn’t just ready for genre-defying stories—it’s hungry for them.”

Here are two shots of the article. You might be able to save them to a larger screen or you might want to buy the magazine if you already haven’t.

Kill Zoners — Thoughts?

Copy Edits

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By John Gilstrap

First, look up norovirus. As I write this, I am in the throes of my second day, and that explains why this will be a short post.

It might not sound like it when I’m done, but I really do have a lot of respect for copy editors. Their eye for detail and knowledge of the rules of grammar have improved every manuscript I’ve ever submitted. For my Grave series, Jeffery Lindholm has been my copy editor for at least the past four or five books. He knows the characters and remembers details from previous stories that might conflict with actions in the current story. That kind of interaction is truly remarkable. He’s part of the team, as opposed to the traffic cop that some copy editors can become–the folks who go out of their way to try to catch the author is an error that often does not exist.

Prior locking Jeff to my manuscripts, I dealt with a number annoying copy editors. One changed my sentence that “Jonathan holstered his Colt 1911” to “Jonathan holstered his Colt M1911A1 semiautomatic pistol.” Not inaccurate, but not what I wanted. The most egregious copy edit ever–and I’m sure I’ve written of it here–came from Rosemary, who changed “Jonathan looked at the door the the kid came through” to “Jonathan looked at the door whence the kid had come.” Whence. In a thriller. That’s a hard no.

About a week ago, I received the copy edits on a short story that I did for an upcoming anthology, and these edits trod new ground. In DIALOGUE . . .

Changed “Maybe we should call Triple-A” to “Maybe we should call AAA.” and

“That rifle looks like a three hundred win-mag” to “That rifle looks like a .300 Win-mag.”

In my worldview, dialogue is literally quoted speech, as it is heard. People would call AA for Alcoholics Anonymous, and Triple-A for the auto club. No one would ever refer to a rifle as a dot three-oh-oh win mag.

What do you think?

Okay, I’ve been up for an hour now. Time to go back to bed and sleep for three. Here’s hoping for a better tomorrow.

Tuning Up Your Second Fiddles

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Believe: 'Ted Lasso' fourth season confirmed by Apple | FOX 7 Austin

By PJ Parrish

It was early in my days as a mystery writer, and I thought I pretty much knew everything.

My first book got a really nice send-off from the great team at Kensington Books. The second book got an Edgar nomination. The third book in our Louis Kincaid series landed my co-author sister and me on the extended New York Times bestseller list.

I’m telling you this not to brag. But as a cautionary tale. Let’s keep going.

Then came book four, Thicker Than Water. From the start, my sister had reservations about it. I still remember what she said to one day when we were about 45,000 words into the first draft.  “It’s too….quiet,” she said.

She couldn’t quite articulate much more than that, it was just a feeling she had about the story. No one is murdered in present time; Louis is trying to solve a very cold case of a young woman’s death. The plot revolves around the dispicable man convicted of her murder, now out of prison, and two lawyers — one who put him behind bars and the other who died, knowing that he didn’t do much to prevent that. It is twisty, talky, and haunted by regret. Action took a rumbleseat to character. So yeah, it was a “quiet” book.

But that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was we let Louis get overshadowed by everyone else. He was the hero, yet we allowed the large cast of very colorful secondary characters to push him out of the spotlight while they strutted and fretted their grand hours on the stage.

Secondary characters are important. They can — and should — be a vital part of your story. No story can survive without them because they exist to support your protag and help propel the plot.

They are sounding boards, helpmates, or sidekicks. Iconic examples abound in crime fiction: Watson to Holmes, Cletus Purcel to Dave Robicheaux. Archie Goodwin to Rex Stout. Rocky to Jim Rockford.

They provide conflict and obstacles for your protago to overcome. Yes, this is what the antagoist does, but secondary characters can enrich a plot in small but significant ways — ie a police chief who constantly questions a detective’s methods.Captain McKay who dogs Dirty Harry Callahan to distraction.

They can be a love interest or companion. Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro in Dennis Lehane’s series. Siamese cats Koko and Yum Yum in Lilian Jackson Braun’s cozies.

They can be a foil, someone who provides a contrast to your protag. Nick Carraway to Jay Gatsby. Draco to Harry Potter.

They can be a mentor who helps keep your protag on the right track or see the bigger picture. M and James Bond. Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

As you can see, I’ve been thinking about secondary (and even tertiary) characters a lot. This is because I got hooked on Ted Lasso. Okay, I know it’s annoying to many of you when one of us goes nutso talking about a TV show you haven’t seen. But bear with me. Because I don’t think I have ever seen — or read — anything that does a better job with secondary characters than Ted Lasso. I strongly recommend you watch the series, not just for enjoyment, but for a great lesson in how to create and control a large cast of memorable characters.

Quick recap: Ted Lasso is a Kansas football coach who is hired to strategically tank a failing English soccer club. As head coach, he inherits a miserable quarrelsome team and an owner whose only goal is to punish her ex-husband by sabotaging his ex-team.

Digression: I thought Ted was a titular protag. But he’s actually a eponymous one. Jane Eyre = eponymous. The Man Who Would Be King = titular. Just saying…

The plot of Ted Lasso superficially revolves around the question of whether a guy who doesn’t know a red card from Red Bull can turn the franchise around. But the real drama comes from all the intricate and intertwined relationships and the paths of their individual character arcs. The show is about empathy, kindness, and human connection even as it tackles dark topics like mental health, addiction, and divorce with sensitivity and nuance. To say nothing about the chasms between fathers and sons.

Ted is the main guy. No doubt about that. As great secondary character Kathy Bates Libby Holden says in Primary Colors of the presidential candidate and his wife: “The Stantons are my sun. I lived my life drawing light and warmth from them.”

So it is with those in Ted’s orbit.

The show excels at crafting compelling secondary characters by giving them distinct personalities, personal growth arcs, and allowing them to drive storylines, even when not the main focus, creating a rich and relatable ensemble cast.

Ted is a classic fish out of the water, at soccer and his own life. But as the series goes on, Ted learns about his sport and the people around him, and starts to deal with his failing marriage, his anxiety and his father issues.

But as I said, every character in Ted Lasso has a unique personality, background and an important role in the story. Which brings us back to what we all, as writers, can learn from our second fiddles. Things to look for as you write:

Ted Lasso's Brett Goldstein Denies Roy Kent Is CGI: “I Am a Human Man” | Vanity Fair

Personal Growth Arcs
The secondary characters in Ted Lasso undergo significant personal growth throughout the series, developing new skills and changing their perspectives. Has-been soccer star Roy Kent is angry and unlikeable, but learns to let go of crippling grudges, forgive his enemies and himself.

ted lasso nate season 2

Storyline Contributions
Secondary characters are not just background players. They often drive storylines and influence the main characters’ journeys. Team towel boy Nathan Shelley is ignored by the team and derided by his father, until he gets a chance to help coach. And become an unlikely plot catalyst.

Ted Lasso' Star Hannah Waddingham Says Ted's Homemade Biscuits Are Actually Gross - TheWrap

Relatable Characters
The show focuses on creating characters that viewers can relate to, even if they are flawed or struggling. Team owner Rebecca Welton comes across as cunning and cold, hellbent only on destroying her ex. Her arc is redemption and atonement as she overcomes her loneliness to become a confident leader of men.

That’s just a few of the folks I came to love and root for. When I finally finished bingeing on the series, I felt exhilarated and sad, like I was saying goodbye to my family and best friends. Shoot, I admit it: I cried like a baby. Can there be any greater compliment to a writer?

One last note about my book Thicker Than Water. To this day, it remains one of my favorite books in my modest oeuvre. Because I love the people in the story. And because my sister finally, in the eleventh hour, figured out how to make it less “quiet.”

I spoke earlier about how, if you, the writer, are not careful, your second fiddles can out-perform your first chair. You have to find that fine line beween creating a vivid cast and not letting them take over. That is what happened to us. And worse, we took the gun out of Louis’s hand. We didn’t let him solve the case. We left it up to happenstance.

But…

In the second draft, Kelly found a way to put the gun back in Louis’s hand. So it was with Ted Lasso. He’s been running away from fatherhood for years, acting as dad to an entire team of grown men rather than the boy who needs him most. In the end, damn everyone else, he does what he has to do.

Keep writing, diamond dogs. And guess what? Ted Lasso is coming back for a new season.

 

Feed The Writer

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My guest today is a dear friend and a fantastic writer. I’ve been glued to the pages of more than one of her novels. Jan Sikes is a multi-award-winning author, who writes compelling and creative stories from the heart. Please help me welcome her to the Kill Zone.

Welcome, Jan!

Greetings, everyone. I am thrilled to be a guest in the Kill Zone today! Thank you, Sue, for inviting me.

My subject today serves as a reminder to feed the reader within each of us. We spend hours upon hours doing research, plotting, developing characters, and writing our stories. We write, rewrite, proofread, and edit day in and day out, sometimes around the clock and into the next day without a break. But are we remembering to feed ourselves, to give ourselves the nourishment we need to stay strong and alert at those tasks? And I’m not talking about food.

If you’ve gone more than a couple of weeks without reading for pleasure, pick up a book. Find a recent novel from a favorite author or try an unfamiliar author. Whichever you choose, allow yourself to get lost in the story, in the rhythms of good fiction.

Read a couple of mysteries without trying to figure out whodunit or how the author wove the plot threads together. Get lost in a love story and allow yourself to cry. Read a horror or suspense novel and give in to the goose bumps.

Writers and editors who only work at the craft but don’t enjoy reading, do not bring their best efforts to their work. When you’re not being fed a steady diet, you’re eventually not going to produce your best work.

Readers need to read.

That’s also true for writers and editors. It’s a fabulous way to slip into a fictional world for relief from stress and pressure and even from the monotony of repetition and habits in daily life. Life can be great with no need to escape. That doesn’t mean relaxing with a book, diving into the worlds of fascinating characters, can’t make it even better.

I’ve always been an avid reader and most always have a book open on my Kindle. But when I go too long without getting lost in someone else’s story, I get antsy and even a little grouchy. I need my story fix.

I require a steady diet of fiction. I need to imagine, to explore, pretend and fantasize. It is essential to feed myself everything that good stories dish up—emotional upheaval and uncertainty, conflict, danger, adventure, and definitely the satisfaction of a solid resolution that neatly ties up dozens of the story elements that have entertained me and held my attention for however many pages the book has.

If you’ve been working hard on a project—maybe even promising yourself that you’ll read something as soon as you get through with this next section or problem—allow yourself the time to read and immerse yourself in someone else’s imagination.

Don’t keep putting it off.

Feed yourself well-written books that prove nutritious, that give you the stamina to keep working. Feed yourself something sweet, or something evil—something that gets you excited about stories and what-ifs.

Ingest and digest food for the soul and mind and spirit. Reading equates to food for dreaming. Food that will give you strength for the long haul.

Reading gives your mind a break. It can revitalize your writing and allow you to smash through blocks and problem areas. Read to remind yourself of the joy in fiction. Read because it gives you pleasure. Let reading both relax and energize you.

Take a new book—tonight or tomorrow or this weekend—and jump into its world, stretching your imagination as you become the hero, sidekick or even the villain. Use the mental stimulation and otherworldliness of unfamiliar places to draw you deep. Let a story you didn’t have to create take over your thoughts so you can experience characters, their adventures, and their world from the inside, using your senses and emotions. Project yourself into an imaginative scenario that has zero connections to your writing process.

Fill yourself up with the good stuff so you can write and edit some good stuff of your own.

Jan Sikes is a multi-award-winning author, who writes compelling and creative stories from the heart.

She openly admits that she never set out in life to be an author, although she’s been an avid reader all her life. But she had a story to tell—Not just any story, but a true story to rival any fiction creation. She brought the entertaining true story to life through fictitious characters in an intricately woven tale that encompasses four books, accompanying music CDs, and a book of poetry and art.

And now, this author can’t put down the pen. She continues to write fiction in a variety of genres, and has published many award-winning short stories and novels. Learn more about Jan at: www.jansikes.com

 

A true testament of character, resilience, and the magic of never giving up.

“This is a hope-filled story that lifts spirits and elicits smiles. Though it is the second book of the series, it can be read as a standalone. I highly recommend it.” ~ Gwen Plano

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/booMQR

What Artificial Intelligence Can’t Give a Writer

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone

This is a long one. Pack a lunch.

I hesitated to write yet another post about AI. The blogosphere is jam-packed with thoughts, opinions, screeds, exaltations, and jeremiads concerning this quantum leap in machine capacity.

For writers, there is no end of discussion on the use (or abuse) of AI in the writing of a book. For me, that consideration boils down to this: AI is an amazingly powerful tool—and time saver—for things like research, brainstorming, book descriptions, synopses, series bibles and so on. But where the rubber meets the road—or the words meet the page—is when the machine writes the actual prose that will appear in the final product issued under the author’s name. That is a line I refuse to cross. Why I don’t is the subject of this post.

Before I get to the main point, allow me a small excursus on writing for money. It’s okay to do that! The pulp writers of old wrote for money, especially during the Depression. They learned the formulae for romance, mystery, fantasy, and adventure. They churned out stories for which they were paid. That’s called free enterprise. The best of them added their unique voice to set them above the average pulpster. You had the sharp leanness of Dashiell Hammett, the thunder and lightning of Robert E. Howard, the cynical snap of Raymond Chandler.

But now AI can churn out formulaic novels with a few clicks of the Return key. Anyone with a modicum of computer sense (not really a “writer” if they don’t do the actual writing) can produce a product that can be sold online. Such a producer might turn out five, ten, fifteen books a month, in the hope that sheer volume will return some hearty ducats.

It’s possible to tell Chat or Grok or some other machine to come up with a complete outline for a fantasy, and then tell it to write scenes “in the style of” Brandon Sanderson or George R. R. Martin or Patrick Rothfuss and boom, a day or two later you’ve got a novel.

That’s legal. But is it ethical? I decided to ask Grok (**irony alert**). Here’s the result. (I’ve redacted author names as I did not secure permission to include them.)

Yes, there are writers using AI to produce novels quickly, sometimes in a matter of days, and some are attempting to mimic the styles of famous authors. This practice is becoming more common as AI writing tools improve, but its legitimacy—both in terms of ethics and quality—is a subject of debate.

Several documented cases highlight this trend. For instance _____, a science fiction writer, used AI tools like ChatGPT, Anthropic’s Claude, and Midjourney to create 97 mini-novels (up to 5,000 words each) in just nine months. Each book took him six to eight hours, a fraction of the time traditional writing might require. Similarly, _____ generated a novel … in three hours using 66 prompts, winning second prize in a 2023 sci-fi competition.

As for mimicking famous authors, AI tools like NovelAI and Sudowrite allow users to train models on specific styles or prompt them to emulate authors like Agatha Christie or Stephen King. [A 2023 novel] was composed with large language models, drawing on styles of detective fiction writers like Raymond Chandler. However, the results often require human editing, as AI struggles to maintain coherence over long narratives or fully capture the nuanced voice of a specific author.

Is This Legitimate?
The legitimacy depends on perspective:

  • Creative and Practical Legitimacy: From a production standpoint, it’s legitimate in that it works—AI can generate readable content quickly. Some authors argue it enhances their creativity, acting as a tool to brainstorm and draft. _____, an indie author, uses Sudowrite to meet tight deadlines, producing a novel every nine weeks. Tools like Squibler and Jasper also market themselves to authors, offering features to generate outlines or full drafts in minutes. Readers often buy these works (selling for $1.99-$3.99), suggesting some market acceptance.
  • Quality Concerns: Critics argue the output lacks depth. Significant human curation is needed to stitch AI outputs into a cohesive narrative. Off-the-shelf models like GPT or Claude often produce generic or inconsistent prose when tasked with mimicking complex styles, as noted by writers like _____, who found AI-generated text fell short of his voice.
  • Ethical and Legal Issues: The ethics are murkier. Many authors, backed by the Authors Guild (over 10,000 signed a 2023 letter), argue that AI tools trained on copyrighted works without permission constitute theft. If a writer prompts AI to “write like Dan Brown,” it’s likely drawing on his style without consent, raising ethical questions. Legally, AI-generated works face copyright ambiguity—U.S. law traditionally requires human authorship, and the extent of human involvement (e.g., editing vs. pure generation) complicates ownership. There’s also the question of transparency: should authors disclose AI use?
  • Cultural Reception: Some see it as a betrayal of the craft. Traditional authors value the slow, personal process of writing, as expressed in a 2023 Los Angeles Times piece, fearing AI erodes the human eccentricity that defines literature. Others view it as a practical evolution, akin to using a thesaurus, especially for indie authors under pressure to publish fast on platforms like Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing.

Conclusion

Yes, writers are using AI to churn out novels in days, sometimes in the style of famous authors, enabled by tools like ChatGPT, Sudowrite, and NovelAI. It’s technically feasible and has a niche audience, particularly in self-publishing. However, its legitimacy is contested: it’s a powerful tool for speed and ideation, but the quality often lags, and ethical-legal concerns linger. For now, it’s a hybrid process—AI accelerates drafting, but human skill is still key to polish and authenticity. Whether it’s “legitimate” depends on your stance: a pragmatic shortcut for some, a creative compromise for others.

Got all that? Want to put out a novel a day? You won’t get arrested. And maybe the actual output, with help, can produce competent fiction.

But I believe there’s something you will miss, something AI can never give you: truly and deeply experiencing the lives of the characters you lovingly bring to life on the page. A machine can’t hand you that feeling; it can only come from inside you, churning through the heart, flowing through your fingertips as you type the words. And when you finally type The End there’s a certain euphoria that is only bequeathed to the writer who has “opened a vein.” The lifeblood of a story can’t be given by transfusion. It has to come from within.

Ray Bradbury wrote in Zen in the Art of Writing:

If you are writing without zest, without gusto, without love, without fun, you’re only half a writer. It means you are so busy keeping one eye on the commercial market, or one year peeled for the avant-garde coterie, that you are not being yourself you don’t even know yourself. For the first thing writer should be is excited. He should be a thing of fevers and enthusiasms. Without such a vigor, he might as well be out picking peaches or digging ditches; God knows it’d be better for his health.

I’ve experienced zest with every novel I’ve finished. A few times the experience has been overpowering.

Case in point. I wrote a trilogy, the Ty Buchanan series. Over the course of these legal thrillers there’s a love story. When I typed the last line, the most perfect I’ve ever written (for me, at least) I burst into tears. I mean, just like that first scene in Romancing the Stone where Kathleen Turner, at her keyboard with headphones on, types the last word of her novel. Weeping and laughing she utters, “Oh, God, that’s good!” It happened to me because I both created and experienced every emotion of every character over a three-book span.

I will not trade away that feeling. Besides, I believe it has value for the reader, too. I believe most readers sense when a book’s been written from a vibrating human heart, or hasn’t. As Carl Sandburg once said, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.”

Secondarily, I’m also wary of too much “cognitive offloading.” Another reason I write the words is to keep my brain in shape. If AI does that for me, my synapses stop firing. It’s like watching pickleball on TV every day instead of playing it yourself. Doesn’t do the body much good, does it? As one source puts it: “The long-term reliance on AI for cognitive offloading could also erode essential cognitive skills such as memory retention, analytical thinking, and problem-solving. As individuals increasingly rely on AI tools, their internal cognitive abilities may atrophy, leading to diminished long-term memory and cognitive health.”

I’ll finish with this. In my favorite movie, Shane, there’s a magnificent moment in the beginning where Shane, the mysterious stranger passing through, has been shown hospitality by the Starrett family—Joe, his wife Marian, and their boy, Joey. After a hearty meal, Shane excuses himself and goes outside. He’s about to express his gratitude without words. For in the yard is a big old stump that Joe has long been chopping away at.

Shane picks up an ax and starts hacking. Joe joins him and the two work into early evening.

They make their final push on the stump. It barely moves.

Joe’s wife sensibly suggests they hitch up a team of horses to pull it out. Joe says, “Marian, I’ve been fighting this stump off and on for two years. Use the team now and this stump could say it beat us. Sometimes nothing will do but your own sweat and muscle.”

Joe and Shane lay into that stump and with a final, mighty push, uproot it.

I guess I feel like Joe Starrett. There’s some things that won’t do for me as a writer but my own “sweat and muscle.”

I’ve gone on too long and I’m still thinking this all through. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Here’s that scene from Shane:

Recharging

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I’m at the Tucson Book Festival as you read this, meeting folks and recharging my creative batteries. I attend as many conferences and festivals as possible, depending on the time of the year, finances, and potential return on the investment.

And I don’t mean in a monetary sense. One of my oldest friends, Steve Knagg, is a retired motivational speaker and he says that we spend an inordinate amount of time passing out all of our figurative apples from our mental basket by encouraging and doing for others, or working hard to be successful. Eventually, that basket is empty and needs to be refilled, and to do so, we have to find a way for it to happen.

I attend writers conferences for that reason.

That doesn’t mean I go to every “book festival,” though. I learned long ago that writers have to be picky when deciding which ones to attend. I’ve spent hours…no, days…sitting behind a table while maybe twenty people pass during that entire time.

I’d never even heard of conventions for fiction, though I’d once attended the Mayborn Literary Nonfiction Conference in Dallas a few years earlier. At that time I was working onsomething far from literature, but I wanted to join a workshop they offered to get some sense on where I was going with, believe it or not, a travel book filled with humor, stories, and destinations.

Good Lord.

I found the conference stuffy, and that workshop almost made me want to quit the business altogether. Dispirited, I came home and wondered what I’d gotten myself into. I almost gave up this writing career, and that happened more than once.

As friends and fans know, I started out as a freelance newspaper columnist, writing outdoor humor, a niche that few others had attempted. Those I knew about were Pat McManus and Gene Hill, who wrote for Field and Stream and Outdoor Life magazines. In my mind at that time, i felt I didn’t have a chance to measure up to them, but I tried.

Experience and determination led me to eventually become prolific enough in the outdoor world to write for over 50 newspapers in Texas and Oklahoma. I joined the Texas Outdoor Writers Association, and the Outdoor Writers of America, meeting other authors, columnists, journalists, and contributors who shared my enthusiasm for the outdoors and writing.

Those folks shored up my obsession to write even more and hopefully publish a book, but what kind was a mystery to even myself. Someone eventually talked me into joining the board for TOWA, where I served for several years, until I lost my mind and eventually became president of that organization.

But I stalled there, partially because I fond the executive director had skimmed nearly $30,000 from the organization, leaving an unpleasant taste in my mouth. At the same time, the internet arrived with a vengeance and killed off newspapers with the ferocity of the Spanish Flu outbreak in 1918. Losing members, I wanted to do something to help and decided to bring in a guest speaker to excite the five-hundred plus attendees for our annual gathering.

Envisioning a conference that would set the world on fire, I decided to reach out to the most famous Texas writer I could think of.

I cold-called Larry McMurtry, getting the number from something called Information. Remember him, the Pulitzer Prize winning author of Horseman Pass By (eventually becoming the Paul Newman movie, Hud), The Last Picture Show, and of course, Lonesome Dove?

Steve Knagg was with me the day I called, standing under tall red oak trees outside of a used appliance store. He was there to buy a thirty-dollar dryer he could barely afford, and just the other day remembered our conversation in the parking lot.

Shaking his head in wonder, he laughed. “You just used that old bag phone sitting on the hood of your truck and called the man who’d won a Pulitzer, like you were calling to order a pizza.”

I was a little more nervous than that, especially after McMurtry answered with a friendly hello. I’m sure he heard me gulp before I explained the call, but he was gracious in declining. “I’m committed to too many deadlines. Here, call this number and ask for Bill Witliff. He’s down in Austin and might be able to attend, but thanks for calling.”

I called Bill Witliff, screenwriter and author. You’ll probably know him as the man who took McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove and turned it into one of the most famous miniseries in history, in addition to writing one of the most underrated movies I’ve ever seen, Barbarosa, featuring Willie Nelson.

Standing out there under the trees for almost half an hour, we talked writing and the business before he also had to decline. But in the course of our conversation, he was genuinely interested in my writing and I confessed I was on the verge of quitting.

I could almost see him shaking his head on the other end of the line. “Nope. You never quit. You stand back, take a look around, gather yourself, and continue with what you’re doing.”

It wasn’t long before writing became harder, and my first novel stalled. I didn’t know what to do with it, and needed to speak to someone who understood.

So I cold-called another Texas author named Joe R. Lansdale, who also spent almost an hour on the phone, explaining even more what I’d gotten into and telling me not to quit. Long ago, Joe decided all he was going to do was write, and for decades he lived so close to the edge of poverty they raised most of what they ate in a little East Texas garden.

He doesn’t worry about that kind of thing any longer, because his books have been turned into a television series, and more than a couple have become feature films. I recommend you watch Cold in July. You’ll thank me for it.

We’re now good friends and he keeps supporting my writing, and spends more time than you can imagine encouraging beginning novelists.

So why am I at another conference? Because I need time with authors who understand what I do, and I don’t cold call strangers anymore. These kinds of events are an opportunity to enjoy dinners with those folks, have drinks, and meet others who are successful, or just getting into the Game. After the Bride and I leave Tucson, other conferences are on the books.

In a little more than a month, my brother from another mother, John Gilstrap and I will be at the Pike’s Peak Writers conference where he will be the Guest of Honor. From there, it’s Western Writers of America, Bouchercon, The Will Rogers Medallion Conference, and anything else that catches my fancy when the apple basket is almost empty.

It isn’t just the conference or festival itself that I go for, it’s the people, the knowledge, and the inspiration to come home and hit the keys again.