Confessions of a Book Reviewer

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I’m rushing to finish the rewrite of my new novel.  Will the reviewers like it? Here’s a repeat of an interview with a reviewer.

Confessions of a Book Reviewer

By Elaine Viets

A reviewer for a major print magazine complained to me about a novel he was reading, when it dawned on me – this was news writers could use. If we know what’s wrong, we can fix it before the reviewer writes about it, for all the (mystery) world to read.
This reviewer is not some crank who looks for excuses to rip writers. If he has to give a book a bad review, he agonizes over that decision.
But here are some writing wrongs that upset this reviewer.

(1) Padded Middles. This is my reviewer’s number one problem – novels that slow down in the middle. “The padding doesn’t advance the narrative,” the reviewer said. “It’s pages and pages of the thoughts and feelings of people who aren’t very interesting. They offer no valuable insights. Sometimes, I wonder if editors make writers add this unnecessary information because big books are so popular. Most books I’ve read recently are 20 to 30 pages too long. Often, there’s a good book buried in that excess fat.”

(2) Switching names. “The character is introduced as Joseph Smith. Then the author proceeds to call him Joe, Joey, Joseph, and sometimes just Smith. It’s hard to figure out who the writer is talking about.”

(3) Who’s talking? “A character is introduced in the first 50 pages, and then shows up 200 pages later with no ID.” Take tax accountant Mary Rogers. She has a brief scene in Chapter 2 and then in Chapter 25 we see this line: “I think the suspect embezzled half a million dollars,” said Mary Rogers.
Huh? Our reviewer said, “I’m frantically pawing through the book, trying to figure out who Mary Rogers is and why she’s saying that.

“It would help if the author gave us a hint who Mary was. Something like this:

‘I think the suspect embezzled half a million dollars,’ said tax accountant Mary Rogers.’ That two-word take makes it easier for readers.”

(4) Writers who fixate on a certain word. “Like ass. I read an author who used ‘ass’ constantly. His character fell on his ass, showed his ass, got his ass kicked and had his ass handed to him. He dealt with asshats, ass clowns and of course, assholes.”

Cuss words are necessary for realism, but don’t overdo it.

(5) Dumb and proud of it. “Writers who want to assert their real-people identities trot out lowbrow snobbery. Their favorite phrase is ‘I don’t know anything about . . .’ Then you can choose one or more of these – opera, classical music, gourmet food, Shakespeare.”

Assume your readers are intelligent – after all, they bought your book.

(6) The hero with the drinking problem. He – or sometimes she – “is haunted by the awful things they did when they were on the sauce. Yes, people drink. And some authors handle this well. But most of these characters are tiresome cliches.” Reading these novels is like getting your ear bent by the garrulous drunk at the end of the bar.

(7) Writers who don’t do their research. If you really want to frost this reviewer, have your hero open a Heineken with a twist-off cap – there’s no such animal. And Jack Daniel’s whiskey always has an apostrophe.

If you’re writing a thriller set in Nazi Germany, you’ll score extra points with this reviewer if you don’t say “Hitler was elected president in a democratic election.” You’ll find plenty of people who’ll write that, but the Website Mythfact.com says it’s complicated.
“In America we hear ‘Hitler was elected President in a Democracy’ a lot,” the website says, “but the sentence is so semantically wrong . . . In summary, the whole thing is almost too complex to apply the ol’ ‘Hitler was elected democratically’ quip to, but since it is important, perhaps it is best phrased as, ‘Hitler and the NAZI party seized power in a democratic system.’”
Got that? Good.

(8) Basic copyediting errors. “These are turning up in books by major authors,” our reviewer said. “I’ve seen ‘grizzly murders,’ when I’m quite sure the local bears are innocent. Clothes are tossed down a ‘laundry shoot,’ and people ‘tow the line.’” If you really want to see steam come out of this reviewer’s ears, mix up “it’s” with “its” and “your” with “you’re.” Granted, we all make mistakes, especially when we’re writing quickly. But somebody should catch those errors before the book is printed.

(9) TMI in the first chapter. Nearly every one of us at TKZ has written about this problem. Overcrowded first chapters slow the pace of your novel. Our reviewer said, “It stops a good book dead when the first chapter has an overlarge cast of characters and I can’t keep them straight.”

Reader, what stops you when you’re reading a novel?

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Enjoy A Scarlet Death, my new Angela Richman mystery. The hardcover is $4 off here: https://tinyurl.com/mts557z5

 

 

Significant Events

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Significant Events
Terry Odell

picture of a family arriving in the US in 1938Significant events can be individual, familial, national, or international.

I was at a family reunion last weekend, and seeing so many cousins in one place was a visual lesson in the strength of DNA. No problem knowing we were all related. What was missing was the generation that included some we fondly remember as the crazy old aunts. Looking around, the cousins of my generation realized that to a lot of the others in the room, we were now the old guard and undoubtedly would be thought of as the crazy old cousins.

Many of the maternal side of my family hailed from Danzig (now Gdansk), and were lucky enough that one of the crazy old aunts had the foresight to push the family into selling their goods and getting the hell out of there. Their arrival in New York was on the maiden voyage of the SS Noordam. A reporter was sent to cover the arrival of the ship, and when they saw the passenger manifest with Anker after Anker, they figured there was a story there.

Another branch of the family lived in Berlin, and their patriarch was of the “This too will pass” mindset. Kristallnacht, November 9-10, 1938, opened his eyes, and they began their plans to leave. That’s a significant historical event that might be more significant to their family than others.

September 11 Memorial

Image by Foundry Co from Pixabay

For most of us who are old enough to remember, September 11th, 2001 is a date that won’t be forgotten. We remember where we were, what we were doing, when we heard the news.

I was home, working on my part-time day job, which was entering registration data for an upcoming conference. As was typical, most of the attendees waited until the day before the early bird pricing was going to expire, and I was swamped. My husband called, said a plane crashed into the twin towers. My first reaction was, that’s a terrible accident, but I’m busy. He said to turn on the television, which was in his office in the next room. I did, and it took a moment or two to register that it wasn’t an accident at all. I turned up the volume, went back to my data entry, but turned on the ‘real’ television in the living room and bounced back and forth between work and watching for updates.

John F. Kennedy's gravesiteThere are other major historic milestones. Another for me was the assassination of JFK. I was in high school history class, which was being taught by a ‘student teacher.’ I don’t know what they’re called in other regions, but this was part of the required curriculum for anyone wanting a teaching certificate in Los Angeles, and it was late enough in the semester that the teacher himself felt he could leave the room and leave her in charge. I don’t remember their names, but I remember he came into the room and interrupted the lesson and announced the assassination. Everyone’s first reaction was that he was playing up the curse that presidents elected in years with zeroes would come to a bad end. Then we noticed he was crying, and the shock hit us. School was dismissed for the day.

pearl harbor memorial

Image by wojoan from Pixabay

Few of us still remember Pearl Harbor Day, but that was another one where people knew what they were doing when they got the news.

Today, we should take a moment to remember 9-11 and those who lost their lives, and the repercussions throughout the world.

How do you handle historical and significant events in your writing? If your characters are boarding a plane, do you consider the security hoops they have to deal with? Do they even know what it was like before the inspections were put in place? Do you include mention of the pandemic? I read books obviously written during the pandemic by authors who assumed it would be long gone before their books came out, and they got it wrong. Or elections? Do you mention current administrations? The floor is yours.

How can he solve crimes if he’s not allowed to investigate?
Gordon Hepler, Mapleton’s Chief of Police, has his hands full. A murder, followed by several assaults. Are they related to the expansion of the community center? Or could it be the upcoming election? Gordon and mayor wannabe Nelson Manning have never seen eye to eye. Gordon’s frustrations build as the crimes cover numerous jurisdictions, effectively tying his hands. Available now in ebook, paperback, and audio.
Like bang for your buck? I have a new Mapleton Bundle. Books 4, 5, and 6 for one low price.

New! Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

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

First Page Critique – Untitled Comedic Crime/Black Comedy

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by Debbie Burke

burke_writer

Please welcome a Brave Author (BA) from South Africa who submitted a first page described as “Comedic Crime/Black Comedy.” Read and enjoy then we’ll discuss.

~~~

It was an icy Monday, the day they came for him.

I’d crunched across the frost that covered the office courtyard.

I’d been reconciling the company bank statement when I felt, more than heard, a silence fall over the open plan office. Two men stood in the doorway. Plain clothes. But they had that look about them. They wore ties and reeked of government.

Millie, in reception, gestured towards the glassed-in cubicle at the end from which Primo conducted the affairs of the firm.

The men nodded as they passed our desks. Primo pushed his chair back and stood, arm stretched, hand open to greet them. A broad smile fixed on his florid face.

Was I wrong about the men?

They shut the door. I glanced around at my colleagues. Everyone was watching. Some gawked unabashed, others peered surreptitiously over the top of their PC’s. We couldn’t hear the words, but we could witness the gestures, expressions, and movements. I bet Primo regretted all the glass now. His motive was to keep an eye on us, but now we had prime seats for a mime spectacle.

Primo tapped the pack of Peter Stuyvesants on his desk, plucked out a cigarette and lit it. He took a deep drag, then with an arrogant tilt of his head, blew smoke rings to the ceiling. He waved at the two chairs, but the men kept standing. The older man spoke.

I imagined he was inwardly chanting, deny, deny, deny.

Finally, the smile slid off his face, and he slumped into his chair.

It didn’t take long.

One gent unplugged the computer and tucked the chassis under his arm with ease. The other helped Primo out of the chair.

Primo’s eyes found mine with an unblinking stare. A vein throbbed at my temple. I was a rabbit caught in the headlights. The tax tip-off line’s anonymous, but he knew. I was the only one who could know. The bookkeeper knows everything.

He walked through the office, shoulders squared, but he was stiff and lurching. He could feign innocence, but the evidence I provided was irrefutable. I looked away, but lifted my gaze to watch his retreating shape. His stink of cigarettes was now laced with the sour smell of fear.

He faltered, then looked back at me, and with an intense fevered stare, he dragged his finger across his throat in a slitting gesture.

~~~

Okay, let’s dig in. I found a lot to like about this first page. The opening sentence sets the time of year without over-describing the weather. The tone is foreboding.

By the second and third paragraphs, the first-person narrator is established as a bookkeeper for a company under investigation by government officials.

“I felt, more than heard, a silence fall over the open plan office.” That’s a fresh way to describe the auditors’ arrival, showing the palpable effect on all employees who immediately know something is very wrong. This also establishes the physical setting in a few words. Well done!

“They wore ties and reeked of government.” Another quick, efficient description.

“…the glassed-in cubicle at the end from which Primo conducted the affairs of the firm.” The honcho is quickly revealed as the probable antagonist to the “I” character.

Peter Stuyvescent cigarettes and blowing smoke rings at the ceiling are great specific details that show Primo’s arrogance. You don’t need to also tell the reader. I suggest deleting the adjective “arrogant.”

“I bet Primo regretted all the glass now. His motive was to keep an eye on us, but now we had prime seats for a mime spectacle.” This observation by the protagonist further characterizes Primo, shows the resentment of the workers, plus raises suspense. What spectacle is unfolding? The reader is pulled in by curiosity and tension.

As Primo is being escorted out, he looks at the protagonist.

“A vein throbbed at my temple. I was a rabbit caught in the headlights…I was the only one who could know. The bookkeeper knows everything.” Skillful, economical summation of the protagonist’s role in the story problem.

Up until now, the reader knows very little about the “I” character, including the gender.

First person narrators need to slip in the character’s name, gender, age, and other pertinent details. That’s challenging to do in a way that sounds natural and doesn’t stop the story flow. BA’s voice is adept enough that I’m willing to wait a bit to learn that info.

For now, the emphasis is his/her worry. “I” blew the whistle on Primo’s misdeeds. “I” can’t maintain eye contact with Primo out of fear and/or shame. The throat-slitting gesture sends a clear threat of retribution, raising the anticipation and stakes. Primo will be back to take his revenge and “I” is scared but also feels satisfaction.

“His stink of cigarettes was now laced with the sour smell of fear.” Good sensory detail that reinforces the mood.

BA has an economical yet vivid way of setting up the location, problem, conflict, stakes, as well as introducing the protagonist and antagonist. The characterizations are well drawn with specific details and gestures that reveal far more depth than a bland driver’s license description of height, weight, hair color, etc.

My suggestions are small tweaks.

One typo: PC’s should be PCs w/o an apostrophe. S indicates plural, ‘s indicates possessive.

Suggested edit: It was an icy Monday, the day they came for Primo. Use his name rather than the vague pronoun “him.”

Original:

I’d crunched across the frost that covered the office courtyard.

I’d been reconciling the company bank statement when I felt, more than heard, a silence fall over the open plan office.

Two sentences in a row that begin with “I’d” is weak. Plus there’s a minor bump in the transition between the courtyard and office. Maybe combine the sentences.

Suggested edit: “I’d crunched across the frost that covered the courtyard, settled into my cubicle, and was reconciling the company bank statement when I felt, more than heard, a silence fall over the open plan office.”

Delete “But they had that look about them.”   You show that look so you don’t need to tell it also.

Suggested edit: “Two men stood in the doorway. Plain clothes. They wore ties and reeked of government.”

Original: Was I wrong about the men?

Suggested edit: Unless this question has meaning later, I suggest you delete it b/c the narrator clearly is right about the men’s purpose. 

Original: I imagined he was inwardly chanting, deny, deny, deny.

Suggested edit: I imagined Primo was inwardly chanting, deny, deny, deny.

Original: I was a rabbit caught in the headlights.

Although it wouldn’t stop me from reading, rabbit (or deer) caught in the headlights is a bit cliched. You can find a better line.

Original: “The tax tip-off line’s anonymous, but he knew.”

Suggested edit: “The tax tip-off line is anonymous” rather than “line’s”. When I first read it, I thought it was possessive rather than a contraction.

The genre is described as “comedic crime/black comedy.” This page had a foreboding tone, but I didn’t pick up on “comedic.” With the Brave Author’s skill, I expect that will be introduced soon.

Congratulations on a compelling first page that checks off many important boxes: a story problem, interesting characters in opposition, a life-altering disturbance, tension, high stakes, and a promise of more complications.

Brave Author, thanks for the chance to read this and best wishes for publication.

~~~

TKZers: What are your impressions of this first page? Would you turn the page? Any ideas or suggestions for the Brave Author?

The Chronology of Story: Foreshadowing

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“Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

* * *

 As we all know, stories are the recollection of events that happen through time. In January, I posted an article on flashbacks in story-telling. Today, I’d like to go in the other direction with foreshadowing.

* * *

To begin, let’s look at the difference between flash forward and foreshadowing.

A flash forward takes the reader to a point in the future. A good example is Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol where Ebenezer Scrooge is taken into the future by a ghost to show him what will happen after his death if he doesn’t change his ways.

* * *

But foreshadowing is different, and despite what Hawthorne said, a shadow may indicate events to come.

According to masterclass.com,

“Foreshadowing is a literary device used to give an indication or hint of what is to come later in the story. Foreshadowing is useful for creating suspense, a feeling of unease, a sense of curiosity, or a mark that things may not be as they seem.”

Foreshadowing may be direct or indirect.

* * *

Direct Foreshadowing overtly states an upcoming event or twist in the story.

For example, the prologue of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet specifically states that the two lovers will die in the story:

“From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.”

 

Another example of this straight-forward form of foreshadowing is when the author simply makes a statement about the future.

I recently read the novel Tom Lake by Ann Patchett where the first-person narrator recounts to her three daughters the story of her love affair with a famous actor. Late in the book, the narrator explains to the reader that she has told all of her past to her children – well, almost all. “And I am done, except for this: I saw Duke one other time, and of that time I will say nothing to my girls.” So the reader knows that an event which is explained in detail to the reader will not be related to other characters in the book. (Sort of a negative foreshadowing.)

* * *

Indirect Foreshadowing is a more subtle way of hinting at future events or outcomes in the story.

 

“If you say in the first act that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third act it absolutely must go off.” –Anton Chekhov

 

 

 

 

In To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus talks to Jem about courage after the death of Mrs. Dubose.

“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.”

That conversation foreshadowed Atticus’s own courage in defending Tom Robinson.

In an early chapter of Tom Lake, the first-person narrator betrays her best friend by stealing the other girl’s boyfriend. That event foreshadows a similar betrayal later in the book when the same thing happens to the protagonist.

* * *

So TKZers: Do you think foreshadowing is a useful device in novel writing? Have you used foreshadowing in your novels? Can you think of any examples in stories you’ve read?

* * *

Private pilot Cassie Deakin declares her distrust of handsome men in the first paragraph of Lacey’s Star. That statement foreshadows her flawed decisions on trust throughout the book and almost gets her killed.

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

Library Love

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

“I’m completely library educated. I’ve never been to college. I went down to the library when I was in grade school in Waukegan, and in high school in Los Angeles, and spent long days every summer in the library… I discovered me in the library. I went to find me in the library. Before I fell in love with libraries, I was just a six-year-old boy. The library fueled all of my curiosities, from dinosaurs to ancient Egypt.” — Ray Bradbury

I remember how thrilled I was when I got my first library card.

It was an actual card, it had my name on it. And it meant I could go in and take books off the shelf and check them out and take them home, just like a real person.

And so many books! Shelf after shelf, there for the taking. The library back then was almost like a church. You treated the space reverently. You only spoke in a whisper, and then only if you really had to. (These days libraries sound more like greasy spoons where waitresses shout, “Gimme a ham on rye!”)

I’ve never met a writer yet who didn’t have a love of the library. Early and often reading is  fundamental for a future writer. It’s how you get the structure of a well-tuned sentence into your head, how you learn to string scenes together that make readers want to turn the page.

The library is also a place of inspiration. John Fante, the great L.A. writer of the 30s, captured that in a passage from his famous novel, Ask the Dust. It’s about young Arturo Bandini who dreams about becoming a writer, and spends hours in the main branch of the L.A. library downtown.

Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town. A day and another day and the day before, and the library with the big boys in the shelves, old Dreiser, old Mencken, all the boys down there, and I went to see them, Hya Dreiser, Hya Mencken, Hya, hya: there’s a place for me, too, and it begins with B, in the B shelf. Arturo Bandini, make way for Arturo Bandini, his slot for his book, and I sat at the table and just looked at the place where my book would be, right there close to Arnold Bennett, not much that Arnold Bennett, but I’d be there to sort of bolster up the B’s, old Arturo Bandini, one of the boys, until some girl came along, some scent of perfume through the fiction room, some click of high heels to break up the monotony of my fame. Gala day, gala dream!

When I read The Illustrated Man in junior high, I exploded with the desire to write. I’d go to my local branch and look at the Bradbury books on the shelf. The B’s! And maybe Bell would be up there someday, bolstering up the B’s….

Some years later, after I’d been published, I went to that same branch when Bradbury came to speak. He supported libraries all over town. I had him sign my copy of Zen in the Art of Writing and talked to him a bit. He loved other writers and gave me his signature and a hearty “God bless you.”

That local branch is still my home base, about seven minutes from my house.

I was in there the other day, to pick up a book I’d requested. As is my custom, I wandered past the new releases, and the mysteries and thrillers. Hya Coben, Hya Connelly, Hya Parker. I took a few off the shelf, went to a chair, and read the opening chapters. In about five minutes I could hardly wait to get back to my keyboard.

Tell us about your first encounter with a library, and how it impacted you as a writer. Do you have a favorite library now?

Making Trouble During An Ordinary Day And Other Character Words of Wisdom

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In today’s Words of Wisdom, James Scott Bell gives us advice and an example of how make trouble for our hero in the midst of an ordinary day. Claire Langley-Hawthorne shares her approach in coming up with names for characters. Sue Coletta gives tips on how to misdirect the reader with characters.

 

We start to care about characters when trouble—or the hint of it—comes along, which is why, whenever I sign a copy of Conflict & Suspense, I always write, Make trouble!

Now, there are two ways to disturb HPHL [Happy People Happy Life] in the opening. One is something happening that is not normal, as I mentioned above. It’s an “outside” disturbance, if you will.

But there’s another way, from the “inside.” You can give us a character’s ordinary day as it unfolds—while finding a way to mess it up.

That’s the strategy Michael Crichton uses in his 1994 novel, Disclosure (made into a movie with Michael Douglas and Demi Moore).

The plot centers around Tom Sanders, an mid-level executive at a thriving digital company in Seattle. He’s married to a successful lawyer named Susan. They live in a nice house on Bainbridge Island, with their four-year-old daughter and nine-month-old son.

As the book opens, we learn that Sanders expects this to be a good day. He’s sure he’s going to be promoted to head of his division, which will set him up for a windfall of millions after an expected merger and IPO. So it’s essential he get to the office on time.

Crichton is not going to let that happen. Here’s the first paragraph:

Tom Sanders never intended to be late for work on Monday, June 15. At 7:30 in the morning, he stepped into the shower at his home on Bainbridge Island. He knew he had to shave, dress, and leave the house in ten minutes if he was to make the 7:50 ferry and arrive at work by 8:30, in time to go over the remaining points with Stephanie Kaplan before they went into the meeting with the lawyers from Conley-White.

So Tom is in the shower when—

“Tom? Where are you? Tom?”

His wife, Susan, was calling from the bedroom. He ducked his head out of the spray.

“I’m in the shower!”

She said something in reply, but he didn’t hear it. He stepped out, reaching for a towel. “What?”

“I said, Can you feed the kids?”

His wife was an attorney who worked four days a week at a downtown firm.

So now he’s got to feed the kids? He hasn’t got time! But that’s life with two working parents, so he quickly begins to shave. Outside the bathroom, he hears his kids starting to cry because Mom can’t attend their every need. Crichton stretches out this sequence. Even something as innocuous as shaving can be tense when the kids are wailing.

Tom finally emerges from the bathroom, with only a towel around him, as he scoops up the kids to feed them.

Susan called after him: “Don’t forget Matt needs vitamins in his cereal. One dropperful. And don’t give him any more of the rice cereal, he spits it out. He likes wheat now.”

She went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

His daughter looked at him with serious eyes. “Is this going to be one of those days, Daddy?”

“Yeah, it looks like it.”

Exactly!

He mixed the wheat cereal for Matt, and put it in front of his son. Then he set Eliza’s bowl on the table, poured in the Chex, glanced at her.

“Enough?”

“Yes.”

He poured the milk for her.

“No, Dad!” his daughter howled, bursting into tears. “I wanted to pour the milk!”

“Sorry, Lize—”

“Take it out— take the milk out—” She was shrieking, completely hysterical.
“I’m sorry, Lize, but this is—”

“I wanted to pour the milk!” She slid off her seat to the ground, where she lay kicking her heels on the floor. “Take it out, take the milk out!”

Every parent knows how true to life this is. A four-year old has definite ideas on their routine, and what they want to control!

“I’m sorry,” Sanders said. “You’ll just have to eat it, Lize.”

He sat down at the table beside Matt to feed him. Matt stuck his hand in his cereal and smeared it across his eyes. He, too, began to cry.

Can’t you just picture this?

Sanders got a dish towel to wipe Matt’s face. He noticed that the kitchen clock now said five to eight. He thought that he’d better call the office, to warn them he would be late. But he’d have to quiet Eliza first: she was still on the floor, kicking and screaming about the milk.

“All right, Eliza, take it easy. Take it easy.” He got a fresh bowl, poured more cereal, and gave her the carton of milk to pour herself. “Here.”

She crossed her arms and pouted. “I don’t want it.”

“Eliza, you pour that milk this minute.” 

Throughout the scene he’s looking at the clock, trying to gauge how late he will be. At the end of the chapter, Susan has finally come to Tom’s rescue, and says—

“I’ll take over now. You don’t want to be late. Isn’t today the big day? When they announce your promotion?”

“I hope so.”

“Call me as soon as you hear.”

“I will.” Sanders got up, cinched the towel around his waist, and headed upstairs to get dressed. There was always traffic before the 8:20 ferry. He would have to hurry to make it.

End of chapter. We want to read on. After what this guy’s been through just to get ready for work, we hope he’s day’s going to get better.

It’s not, of course. This is Michael Crichton. Things are about to get a whole lot worse for Mr. Tom Sanders.

This strategy will work whether you open in a home or office; in a car or on a boat; in a coffee house or Waffle House.

Just decide to be mean. Mess up your character’s day.

James Scott Bell—October 14, 2018

Character names

Finding the right name for a character is always a critical first step for me. I can’t just put in a placeholder or any old name in a first draft, I really have to be sure of at least the main character’s name before I can find the right voice. Usually female character names are easy – they come to me right away, or at least after just a little historical research (when you write historical like I do, the last thing you want is a modern name that’s completely wrong for the period). When it comes to male characters, however, there’s always some degree of angst. For example, in my current WIP I’ve only just realized that I’m using the same name for my principal male protagonist as in a book a wrote a few years ago – so obviously I have some favorites that I need to eliminate:) I also avoid names of ex-boyfriends or former colleagues (I find it difficult to separate the real person from the imaginary one when using particular names). When it comes to female characters I don’t seem to have the same sensitivity (I also accidentally named a maid after my sister and had no idea until she pointed this out to me…). In my current WIP I can’t work out exactly why the name of the antagonist doesn’t fit (my beta readers are happy with it after all), all I know is that it doesn’t…and I’m struggling to find a name that does.

This character angst has got me desperately looking for new naming strategies including scouring my bookshelves for random author and character names in the hope that these strike some inspiration (nope…) and resorting to baby naming websites (also with little success). So what to do when a character’s name is so elusive?? Honestly, I’m not sure (but maybe you TKZers can help!).

When starting a first draft I often ‘try on’ a couple of character names for my main protagonist (or protagonists) as I work through accessing their voice and POV.

Claire Langley-Hawthorne—April 26, 2021

 

Character Misdirection

Character misdirection is when the protagonist (and reader) believes a secondary character fulfills one role when, in fact, he fulfills the opposite.

Two types of character misdirection.

  • False Ally
  • False Enemy

These two characters are not what they seem on the surface. They provide opportunities for dichotomy, juxtaposition, insights into the protagonist, theme, plot, and plot twists. They’re useful characters and so much fun to write.

A false ally is a character who acts like they’re on the protagonist’s side when they really have ulterior motives. The protagonist trusts the false ally. The reader will, too. Until the moment when the character unmasks, revealing their false façade and true intention.

A false enemy is a character the protagonist does not trust. Past experiences with this character warn the protagonist to be wary. But this time, the false enemy wants to help the protagonist.

When Hannibal Lecter tries to help Clarice, she’s leery about trusting a serial killing cannibal. The reader is too.

What type of character is Hannibal Lecter, a false ally or false enemy?

An argument could be made for both. On one hand, he acts like a false enemy, but he does have his own agenda. Thomas Harris blurred the lines between the two. What emerged is a multifaceted character that we’ve analyzed for years.

When crafting a false ally or false enemy, it’s fine to fit the character into one of these roles. Or, like Harris, add shades of gray.

Sue Coletta—December 13, 2021

***

  1. Do you find trouble in your characters’ “ordinary day?” If so, any tips?
  2. How do you come up with names for your characters? I’ve used the U.S. Social Security tools for popular baby names by year and decade as well as baby name and other name guides.
  3. Do you create false allies or false enemies in your fiction? Any advice on how to do so?

Reader Friday-Dine In or Dine Out?

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Simple question(s) today, TKZers! I’m liking simple more and more these days . . . you too?

Here goes.

1) Do you prefer dining in or dining out?

2) If you’re dining in, please share with us your favorite home-cooked meal.

3) If you’re dining out, please tell us what your favorite place is, and your go-to fave food to eat there.

4) AND, please tell us about a character you’ve written who has any foodie quirks.

 

Hungry yet?

 

 

Here’s my answers: I love salmon. I could eat it seven days a week and never tire of it. And I prefer a home-cooked meal to eating out. (Even if I have to cook it!)

 

 

By the time today is over, Annie Lee is convinced she has no tomorrow.

 

 

 

In my novel, No Tomorrows, the main character is Annie Lee. She’s a married mother of four who for years has served pork chops to her family every Thursday night. Why? She has fear issues, but that’s all I’m sayin’! You’ll just have to read the book…

 

 

 

 

Bullitt On The Page

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By John Gilstrap

I spent last week in Nashville, Tennessee, at Bouchercon, the World Mystery Convention, where I got to commune with dozens of writer buddies, many of whom I had not seen since the pandemic. In case you’re not familiar with how these conferences work, the official program is filled with various speeches and panels, where writers pretend to understand this thing we do, and the evenings are spent in the bar, where all real business is conducted. I had a wonderful time.

One of the panels I served on was called “Shoot to Thrill,” where I had the honor to share the stage with Brad Thor, Andrew Child, Marc Cameron, and Boyd Morrison, with the mission of discussing how to write action scenes. I shared that I find the choreography of fight scenes to be some of the most tedious writing I do, and Andrew Child was on the opposite end of the spectrum, professing to enjoy writing those scenes.

One of the most interesting questions of the session came from an audience member, who brought up the iconic chase scene from the 1968 movie, Bullitt, starring Steve McQueen and a Ford Mustang. While a bit dated now–in part because I’ve watched it dozens of times–it’s a riveting sequence, featuring great camera work and lots of squealing tires and exciting engine noise. The questioner asked how one would write that sequence for the page and achieve that same level of excitement.

I had never thought about writing in those terms before, but as I thought through my answer, I realized that I had stumbled on the topic of my blog post for this week.

First, to get yourself oriented to the topic, here’s the sequence I’m talking about.

Notice how little storytelling occurs in that chase scene. Lots of adrenaline pumping camera work plus an outstanding sound track, but not much else. This is where writing for the page trumps writing for the screen.

I’m not going to attempt to write the sequence here, but consider all the opportunities for drama if you were to decide to do so:

  • What do those aerial hijinks feel like to the driver’s spine?
  • What is he thinking as be blasts through stop signs?
  • How intent is he on keeping track of pedestrians and other vehicles as he speeds through the streets of San Francisco?
  • What are his intentions if he catches up with the fleeing car?
  • What do those downshifts feel like?
  • How does he keep control when he loses the back end in a turn?
  • What does all that burning rubber smell like?

The list goes on and on. The trick in writing an action scene for the page is to bring the reader into the protagonist’s head and body. Every action has a reaction–Newton’s Third Law of Writing. Focus on those reactions because that’s where the humanity of your character resides.

I wrote above that I find it tedious to write action sequences, and the reason is the delicate choreography of the action and the humanity, while still advancing the plot and not breaking the rhythm of the storytelling. After clearing a room and shooting bad guys, Jonathan Grave may change out a magazine before moving to the next room, even though the mag is half-full because, as he says, you never bring old bullets to a new gunfight. (More bullets are always preferred to fewer bullets.) That mag change would be just a few hand motions on the screen, but that sentence on the page provides an opportunity for characterization that advances the storytelling.

What say you, TKZ family? What’s your secret to writing effective action scenes?

Hooks, Lines And Stinkers

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By PJ Parrish

The opening line of a book is the single hardest line you write.

Many writers would disagree with that. But for my money, those folks are: A. lucky devils for whom all things come easy; B. diligent do-bees who can scribble down anything just to get started and then go back and rewrite or C. writers who aren’t really very good at what they do or maybe are just phoning it in.

I know, that sounds a little harsh. But I truly believe this. I have such respect and, yes, envy for writers who create great openings. I am not talking about “hooks.” Hooks are easy. I am firmly of the mind that anyone can write a decent hook. You’ve seen them, those clever one-liners tossed out by wise-ass PIs, those archly ironic first-person soliloquies, those purple-prose weather reports that substitute for mood.

No, not hooks. I’m talking about those rare and glorious opening moments that are telling us, “OO-heee, something special is about to happen here!”

We here at TKZ talk alot about great openings, especially for our First Page Critiques. We worry about whether we should throw out a corpse in the first chapter, whether one-liners are best, if readers’ attention spans are too short for a slow burn beginning.

A great opening goes beyond its ability to keep the reader just turning the pages. A great opening is a book’s soul in miniature. Within those first few paragraphs — sometimes buried, sometimes artfully disguised, sometimes signposted — are all the seeds of theme, style and most powerfully, the very voice of the writer herself.

It’s like you’re whispering in the reader’s ear as he cracks the spine and turns to Page 1: “This is the world I am taking you into. This is what I want to tell you. You won’t understand it all until you are done but this is a hint of what I have in store for you.”

Which is why, this week, I have been staring at a blank computer screen. I am trying to start a new book. (Yeah, I know I told you I am retired, but the urge is still there.) I have a good idea. I have outlined in my head the first couple chapters. But I don’t have a first line.

I sit here, staring at my blank Word document, as that cursed cursor blinks like a yellow traffic light in a bad noir novel.  I NEED that one line because it’s not just an opening, it’s a promise. A promise to a reader that what I am about to give them is worth their time, is something they haven’t seen before, is something that is…uniquely me.

Well, shoot. I’m rambling. I’ll let Joan Didion explain it. I have a feeling she gave this a lot more thought than I have:

Q: You have said that once you have your first sentence you’ve got your piece. That’s what Hemingway said. All he needed was his first sentence and he had his short story.

Didion: What’s so hard about that first sentence is that you’re stuck with it. Everything else is going to flow out of that sentence. And by the time you’ve laid down the first two sentences, your options are all gone.

Q: The first is the gesture, the second is the commitment.

Didion: Yes, and the last sentence in a piece is another adventure. It should open the piece up. It should make you go back and start reading from page one. That’s how it should be, but it doesn’t always work. I think of writing anything at all as a kind of high-wire act. The minute you start putting words on paper you’re eliminating possibilities.

Didion gave this interview around the time she published her great memoir after her husband’s death The Year of Magical Thinking. The first line of that book is: “Life changes fast.”

Maybe I am more hung up than usual on openings because I have read some really bad opening lines. I won’t embarrass the writers here because they are still alive and I believe in karma. Oh what the hell, I will give you one because this writer deserves to be shamed:

As the dark and mysterious stranger approached, Angela bit her lip anxiously, hoping with every nerve, cell, and fiber of her being that this would be the one man who would understand – who would take her away from all this – and who would not just squeeze her boob and make a loud honking noise, as all the others had.

Okay, I cheated. That is one of the winners from the  Bulwer-Lytton bad writing (on purpose) contest. But didn’t you believe for just a moment there it was real?

Let’s move on to some good stuff. Right now, I am re-reading Jeffrey Eugenides’s Middlesex. Look at his opening line:

I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.

There, in that one deceivingly simple declarative sentence lies the all tenderness, irony and roiling epic scope of Eugenides’s story. And I don’t even care that he used semi-colons.

And then there’s this one:

The village of Holcomb stands on the high wheat plains of western Kansas, a lonesome area that other Kansans call “out there.”

That’s from Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood. This is the first line of a long paragraph of description that opens the book, yet look at what it accomplishes — puts us down immediately in his setting, conveys the book’s bleak mood and hints with those two words “out there” that he is taking us to an alien place where nothing makes sense — the criminal mind.

What is so terrifying about openings, I suppose, is that you only have so much space to work with. And, as Didion said, once you’ve moved deeper into that first chapter, that golden moment of anticipation is gone and then you are busily engaging all the gears to move the reader onward.

I read a lot of crime novels. I do this to keep up with what’s going on in our business but I also do it out of pleasure. But too many of them rely on cheap hooks. That said, here are a couple good openings from books I pulled off my crime shelf.

  • We were about to give up and call it a night when somebody dropped a girl off the bridge. — John D. MacDonald,  Darker Than Amber
  • They threw me off the hay truck about noon. — James M. McCain, The Postman Always Rings Twice
  • The girl was saying goodbye to her life. And it was no easy farewell. — Val McDermid,  A Place of Execution.
  • I turned the Chrysler onto the Florida Turnpike with Rollo Kramer’s headless body in the trunk, and all the time I’m thinking I should’ve put some plastic down. — Victor Gischler, Gun Monkeys.

Not bad for one-liners. Then there are the more measured openings:

Death is my beat. I make my living from it. I forge my professional reputation on it. I treat it with the passion and precision of an undertaker – somber and sympathetic about it when I’m with the bereaved, a skilled craftsman with it when I’m alone. I’ve always thought the secret of dealing with death was to keep it at arm’s length. That’s the rule. Don’t let it breathe in your face.

But my rule didn’t protect me.

That’s from Mike Connelly’s The Poet and it works because it succinctly captures his protagonist’s voice and the theme of the story.

I think this blog post has been therapeutic for me. I think I am going to quit obsessing about the first line and just get the story up and moving. The more I get to know my characters, the more they will open up to me. Maybe one of them will whisper that golden opening line. I can’t remember the exact quote, but Joyce Carol Oates has said that until she knows the ending of her story, she doesn’t know how to start.

I get that. As weird and convoluted as this might sound, sometimes you have to write the last line before you can write the first. Sort of like Picasso signing his painting. Because what a great opening but the writer’s true signature?

Redux: Can Multitasking Harm the Brain?

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When I realized Labor Day landed on my Monday, I panicked. I’m in the middle of packing, as I write this, and have nothing prepared. Hence the redux of an older post but one that still pertains to all of us. For those who celebrate, hope you’re enjoying a fun and safe holiday weekend!

Writers need to multitask. If you struggle with multitasking, don’t be too hard on yourself. The brain is not wired to complete more than one task at peak level. A recent study in the journal Frontiers in Human Neuroscience showed when we’re concentrating on a task that involves sight, the brain will automatically decrease our hearing.

“The brain can’t cope with too many tasks: only one sense at a time can perform at its peak. This is why it’s not a good idea to talk on the phone while driving.” — Professor Jerker Rönnberg of Linköping University, who conducted the study.

The results of this study show that if we’re subjected to sound alone, the brain activity in the auditory cortex continues without any problems. But when the brain is given a visual task, such as writing, the response of the nerves in the auditory cortex decreases, and hearing becomes impaired.

As the difficulty of the task increases—like penning a novel—the nerves’ response to sound decreases even more. Which explains how some writers wear headphones while writing. The music becomes white noise.

For me, once I slide on the headphones, the world around me fades away. I can’t tell you the number of times a family member has strolled into my office, and I practically jump clean out of my skin. Don’t be surprised if someday they kill me by giving me a heart attack. But it isn’t really their fault. I’m in the zone, headphones on, music blaring, my complete attention on that screen, and apparently, my brain decreased my ability to hear.

Strangely enough, I don’t listen to music while researching. When I need to read and absorb content, I need silence. This quirk never made sense to me. Until now.

Have you ever turned down the radio while searching for a specific house number or highway exit?

Instinctively, you’re helping your brain to concentrate on the visual task.

Research shows that our brains are not nearly as good at handling multiple tasks as we like to think they are. In fact, some researchers suggest multitasking can actually reduce productivity by as much as 40% (for everyone except Rev; he’s a multitasking God). Multitaskers have more trouble tuning out distractions than people who focus on one task at a time. Doing many different things at once can also impair cognitive ability.

Shocking, right?

Multitasking certainly isn’t a new concept, but the constant streams of information from numerous different sources do represent a relatively new problem. While we know that all this “noise” is not good for productivity, is it possible that it could also injure our brains?

Multitasking in the brain is managed by executive functions that control and manage cognitive processes and determine how, when, and in what order certain tasks are performed. According to Meyer, Evans, and Rubinstein, there are two stages to the executive control process.

  • Goal shifting: Deciding to do one thing instead of another
  • Role activation: Switching from the rules for the previous task to the rules for the new task (like writing vs. reading)Moving through these steps may only add a few tenths of a second, but it can start to add up when people repeatedly switch back and forth. This might not be a big deal if you’re folding laundry and watching TV at the same time. However, where productivity is concerned, wasting even small amounts of time could be the difference between writing a novel in months vs. years.

Multitasking Isn’t Always Bad

Some research suggests that people who engage in media multitasking, like listening to music through headphones while using a computer, might be better at integrating visual and auditory information. Study participants between the ages of 19 and 28 were asked to complete questionnaires regarding their media usage.

The participants completed a visual search task both with and without a sound to indicate when the item changed color. Heavy multitaskers performed better when sound was presented, indicating they were more adept at integrating the two sources of sensory information. Conversely, heavy multitaskers performed worse than light/medium multitaskers when the tone was not present.

I can attest to that. If I don’t have my headphones on, chances are I won’t hit my writing goals that day. I’ve conditioned my brain to focus when the music starts. And I store a spare set of headphones in case mine break. Learned that little lesson the hard way.

“Although the present findings do not demonstrate any causal effect, they highlight an interesting possibility of the effect of media multitasking on certain cognitive abilities, multisensory integration in particular. Media multitasking may not always be a bad thing,” the authors noted.

How can writers multitask and still be productive?

  • Limit the numbers of things we juggle to two (*laughter erupts in the audience*)
  • Use the “20-minute rule.” Instead of constantly switching between tasks, devote your full attention to one task for 20 minutes before switching to the next task.

What do you think about these studies? How well do you multitask?

Because of my holiday plans, I may be late responding to comments, but don’t let that stop you from sharing your thoughts.