Found But Not Lost:
A Dusty Ode To Our Genre

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By PJ Parrish

This is a story about treasure hunting.

I am a sucker for estate sales. We have a lot of them in summer up here in northern Michigan. My town, Traverse City, is awash in splendid old Victorians left over from the days of the logger barons. And we have hundreds of listing barns crammed with family flotsam.

Among the cool stuff I’ve gathered: A set of ten Baccarat champagne coups (eight bucks) Two circa-Forties prints of gaudy cockatoos from a Miami Beach hotel (how they got in a Michigan basement I can’t guess). A Paint-by-Numbers of a naughty can-can dancer. A pathetic sock monkey (I have a huge collection, the uglier the monkey the better). And a dirt-encrusted mantel clock from the Fifites that keeps perfect time.

But yesterday, I struck gold. An old antique store was going out of business here. You know the place — an old barn stuffed rafters-to-basement with jade jewelry, molting hats, rusty New Era potato chip tins, lethal looking pitchforks and creepy one-armed baby dolls.

I spotted a handsome looking leather book. It had heft and smelled like rotting candy.

A digression: That great old book smell? You’re not imagining it. It comes from the chemical breakdown of the books after they’re exposed to light and heat for a long time. The break down releases volatile organic compounds that create a palette of those old book smells — mainly almonds and vanilla but also toluene, which produces coffee overtones.

That old book smell has an official name — bibliosmia. In other words, what you’re smelling is the scent of a book slowly dying.

I had to save this one. The title on the spine was The Omnibus of Crime. The name was Dorothy Sayers. It is a compilation of detective stories she gathered together. It is pristine, first edition. I Googled it on my phone and it goes for about $300 among collectors. It bought it for $20.

It wasn’t until I got home that I found a leaflet stuck inside. It is the original Book-of-the-Month Club News. Sayers’ anthology was the August 1929 selection. Its price was $3. I think I got a bargain.

The book is over 1,200 pages and many of the stories are by names lost in the haze of our genre’s history. But there are some famous folks — Poe, Doyle, Stoker, Dickens, H.G. Wells, Joseph Conrad, Ambrose Bierce. Did you know Aldous Huxley wrote a short story called “The Giocanda Smile”? From that story:

Whatever she said was always said with intensity. She leaned forward, aimed, so to speak, like a gun, and fired her words. Bang! the charge in her soul was ignited, the words whizzed forth from the narrow barrel of her mouth. She was a machine-gun, riddling her hostess with sympathy.

The book is arranged historically, from the seminal roots of our genre in Latin, Greek and “oriental” primitives, logs through the “modern” contributions of Poe and Doyle, lurks through the shadows of vampires, witches and ghosts and ends with a section titled “Tales of Cruelty and Blood.”

Can’t wait to get to that part.

But I’ve just cracked the book, and first lingered in Sayer’s inspired introduction. I have to share my favorite passage from that intro, wherein Sayers argues why detective stories are, in the words of the Book of the Month Club editors, “sufficiently dignified”:

There is one respect, at least, in which the detective story has an advantage over every other kind of novel. It possesses an Aristotelian perfection of beginning, middle and end. A definite and single problem is set, worked out, and solved; its conclusion is not arbitrarily conditioned by marriage or death. It has the rounded (although limited) perfection of a troilet.

Okay, I looked up a couple words for you:

Aristotelian: Coming from the philosophy of Aristotle, an emphasis upon deduction and upon investigation of concrete and particular things and situations.

No argument from us on that, right?

Troilet: A poem form, invented by 13th century French minstrels. It has — get ready folks — eight lines, with the first line being repeated as the fourth and seventh lines and rhyming with third and fifth, while the second line serves as a refrain in the eighth and final line and rhymes with the sixth. Most commonly written in iambic tetrameter but almost as often in iambic pentameter.

Let’s just say that Sayers is trying to tell us that a good detective story has a nice structure.

I can’t tell you much more about my book yet. The editors of the Book-of-the-Month-Club news are sort of stuffy and borderline snide in their introduction, burbling on about how the English write better detective stories than Americans, that the Russians had a влюбился on Sherlock Holmes and that Sayer’s collection is “an agreeable summer’s afternoon reading.” (Is that like a Beach book?). They finally, at the end, loosen their man buns and concede:

“But come! The Omnibus of Crime is intended to be enjoyed. We can think of no book that offers so sure and innocent a nirvana for an active mind.”

I guess that means they thought it was sorta kinda okay to like detective stories. I’d rather you listen to what Dorothy Sayers has to say about our genre. Her words are as relevant today as they were in 1929.

Man, not satisfied with the mental confusion and unhappiness to be derived from contemplating the cruelties of life and the riddle of the universe, delights to occupy his leisure moments with puzzles and bugaboos….The fact remains that if you search the second-hand book stalls for cast-off literature, you will find fewer mystery stories than any other kind of book. Theology and poetry, philosophy and numismatics, love-stories and biography, [man] discards [these books] as easily as his old razor blades. But Sherlock Holmes is cherished and read and re-read, till the covers fall off and the pages crumble to fragments.

Keep searching those second-hand book stalls. We endure, crime dogs.

влюбился = Russian for man crush

How Much Does Your Environment Influence Your Writing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The question made me wonder if other writers experience this.

How much does our environment influence the stories we write?

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

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

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

Maybe, maybe not.

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

From the Ripple Foundation:

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

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

That certainly held true for me.

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

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

From Brainly.ph…

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

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

From Princeton.edu…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time Getting You Down? Tune In To Radio Station KDRI

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Salvador Dalí, The Persistence of Memory, 1931. Oil on canvas

We’ve had some discussions about time recently. Brother Gilstrap opined about making time for the things that count. Garry laid out a grid of 100 10-minute blocks. Heck, Kay has a whole cozy series centered around time.

Just thinking about time takes time! The trick is not to go crazy about it.

Reminds me of some Dad Jokes:

Why did the woman put a clock under her desk? She wanted to work overtime.

Why shouldn’t you tell secrets when a clock is around? Because time will tell.

What does a wall clock do after it stops ticking? It hangs around.

Ba-dump-bump.

All seriousness aside, I’ve been a lifelong learner about what we call “time management.” There are tons of books out there on the subject, my favorite being the classic How to Get Control of Your Time and Your Life by Alan Lakein.

To me, it all boils down to deciding what you want to do and then prioritizing the list.

I’ve used the A-B-C method. You look at your list and mark all the “must do” tasks with an A, the “want to do” tasks with B, and the “can wait” tasks with C.

Then you prioritize each letter with a number. Thus, A-1 becomes the first thing you tackle, followed by A-2 and so on. If you have time, you start on the Bs. Usually you don’t do anything with the Cs, until they move up to a B or an A.

I find taking a few minutes each morning to write a fresh list extremely helpful.

The other day I was thinking about time again because, well, the sands of time run on and our allotment gets a little less each day. Yet the things I want to do seem to keep expanding. The bucket for my list is a twelve-pound drum.

Pondering the possibilities can be overwhelming. I am reminded of the Donald Fagin song lyric: But tell me what’s to be done, Lord/’bout the weather in my head?

It’s like the static and program bits you hear as you keep changing the channels on a radio.

And that’s when an idea hit me. I needed to find the right station.

So I formed KDRI.

That stands for four columns: Know, Do, Read, Ideas.

Under K, I began to list the things I want know more about. It includes subjects like Alexander the Great, The Mongol Empire, George Orwell, Vikings, and secrets of the grill masters.

The Do list is all my tasks, with writing as top priority. I list here my WIP, my WIP-to-come, Substack posts, blog posts, and miscellaneous other projects. Then there are things I want to do and places I want to go.

Read is for the books and long articles I want to get to. A few of the titles on my TBR list are: Musk by Walter Isaacson, the autobiography of Jim Murray, Jerry West by Roland Lazenby, Nicholas Nickleby, The Raymond Chandler Papers, and The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories.

Ideas is for my creativity time, capturing ideas for later sorting The best way to get good ideas is to come up with lots of ideas, assess, and throw the weak ones out. Mostly these are story ideas that I’ll look at for further development.

Each day I look at the columns and write my priority list, as described above. (And I do mean writing, with a pen on a piece of paper. There’s something empowering about doing so.)

I include exercise time, eating time, a power nap, and leave some time for discretionary goofing around. I start early and go till about 4 p.m. The rest of the day is wife time: dinner, maybe a movie, maybe play a game, or just talk. Of course, that’s subject to change if we have friends over, go out, or life tosses in one of its many intrusions.

Sunday is a day of rest. I usually try to catch up on my reading.

I’m mindful of not getting too obsessive over this. As Sue said in her comment on John’s post, “Balance is key. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

But I also know that a few minutes of planning can pay off in productive dividends.

So next time the static is getting you down, try tuning in to KDRI. It’s free!

What are some things you have in your KDRI columns?

Those Stubborn Characters

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So, Hopeful Author, you came up with a great plot and over the course of several months, or years, you’ve hammer out 30,000 words in fine order. With the first act written, polished over and over, and massaged into a form you can live with, the next phase begins.

It’s the pesky second act that gives me headaches, and not because it’s hard to write, but because the whole world seems to slow down, and the words come slow. You might have experienced it also, when the universe conspires to keep you from writing, and all those carefully crafted characters develop minds of their own and refuse to move, lounging around, drinking coffee and puffing cigarettes.

“I can’t think of anything to write when I get to that point!”

This was a comment I heard the last time I talked with a group of writers. The young woman’s voice was full of tension, and frustration.

“I have a suggestion.”

The assemblage waited, pens poised…and in one instance, a woman held her fingers over the home keys on her laptop’s keyboard.

“Start a new chapter and throw a couple of your characters together. Start a conversation, or give them a nudge, and see what happens.”

Raised hands.

“That’s all?”

A voice came from the back. “What if it doesn’t go anywhere? I will have wasted those hours.”

“If nothing else, you’ve finished an exercise in creative writing. Delete those sentences, or pages, and give it another shot.”

Frowns. Eyebrows came together in dark lines over hooded eyes.

“Does that work?”

“It does for me, and remember, there’s nothing concrete about creative writing.” I quoted Miss Adams, my high school English teacher who still whispers advice in my ear on occasion. “Put words on paper, and those words will lead to others.”

Another question from under a raised hand sent us off into a new direction. “I keep working on this scene, but it won’t develop.”

“Maybe you’re trying to make your characters do something that’s not necessary at that time. It could be you’re wanting them to go against their fictional codes. Listen to your subconscious. Stop trying to make them do what you want, and approach it from another direction.”

“I didn’t know there would be so many complications.”

“None of us did when we started out.”

I experienced a similar lag this week. I finished the first act of a novel contracted with a new publisher, satisfied with the plot and excited about where the story was going. Then it happened. Act II refused to move.

I went back and read those pages and realized I hadn’t utilized a character to her full extent. It was time for her to walk on stage. We needed to hear her story. Putting her into an uncomfortable situation with little support from anyone she knew, I watched Victoria’s back stiffen with resolve and she moved the story forward in a direction I hadn’t anticipated.

The story is rolling along today, and the tension is rising as fast as this summer’s temperature. Don’t let that second act slow you down. Once you’re through to the other side at around 60,000 words, it’ll be a downhill race to the conclusion.

Write away!

Reader Friday-Revisions

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Ah, revisions, revisions . . . music to our ears, yes?

Maybe, but today we’re going to talk about a different kind of revision. Not the kind that produces blood, sweat, and tears. Not the kind that makes us want to throw our notebooks and laptops against the nearest tree and go for a long walk.

What, then?

Which path do I follow now?

All of life on earth is just one big revision. And for some of us, there came a time when we read something that changed us forever, sent us down a new path, or brought the next step we needed to take into clear focus.

Here’s the question for us to ponder, and hopefully share today:

Tell us about a book or story that changed your life, revised your thinking, maybe sent you down a new path you hadn’t considered before, or thought you could never negotiate.

(Mine will be in the comments.)

Editing Tricks of the Trade

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Editing Tricks of the Trade
Terry Odell

Playing Tricks With EditingHitting “The End” on the manuscript doesn’t mean you’re finished. Once I have the full manuscript done, and have let it marinate for a while, it’s time to read it from the beginning. I wrote about my process several years ago, and I hope you don’t mind a repeat performance here. Some of my “Tricks of the Trade” might be helpful, either as a refresher for TKZers who’ve been here a long time, or for those who’ve joined more recently.

I finished my personal edits on the manuscript of my next book, Double Intrigue, and I thought I’d share some of the tips I’ve discovered over the years for that final pass before turning the manuscript in.

We want to submit the cleanest possible manuscript to our editors, agents, or the sales channels. By the time most of us hit “The End”, we’ve been staring at the manuscript on a computer screen for months. We probably know passages by heart, we know what it’s supposed to say, and it’s very easy to miss things.

What we need to do if fool our brain into thinking it’s never seen these words before. My tricks:

Trick #1– Print the manuscript. It’s amazing how much different it will look on paper.

Trick #2 – Use a different font. If you’ve been staring at TNR, choose a sans-serif font. In fact, this is a good time to use the much-maligned Comic Sans.

Trick #3 – Change the format. You want the lines to break in different places. I recommend printing it in 2 columns, or at least changing the margins. That will totally change the line scan, and it’s amazing how many repeated words show up when the words line up differently.

marked up manuscript printed in 2 columns

Trick #4 – Read away from your computer. Another room, or at least the other side of the room.

The above are all “Fool the Brain” tricks. Moving on to my basic process.

Trick #5 – Read from start to finish.

As I read, I have a notepad, highlighters, red pen, and a pad of sticky notes. This pass isn’t where I fix things; it’s where I make notes of things to fix. I don’t want to disrupt the flow of the read by stopping to check out if the character drove a red Toyota or a green Chevy. I have a foam core board by my chair, where I’ll post my sticky notes. Also, because it’s a hard copy, there’s not simple “Find” function.

When repeated words or phrases jump out, I note them on a sticky for a future search-and-destroy mission. I’ll circle or highlight words that could be stronger, or places where I might be able to come up with a metaphor that doesn’t sound writerly.

I’m also critical of “does this move the story?” as I’m reading. The beautiful prose might not be all that beautiful when reading it in the context of the entire novel. Don’t be afraid to use that red pen. On the flip side, you can also note where a scene needs more depth, or something needs foreshadowing. Are characters behaving consistently? Or do their personalities change because the author needs them to do something for the plot.

Another thing I look for is named characters. Naming a character tells the reader “this is an important person.” Do they play enough of a role in the story to earn a name? Can they be deleted, or referred to generically?

Once I’ve reached the end, I’ll go back to the computer and deal with the notes I’ve made.

The last pre-submission editing chore for me—and it’s a tedious one—is to let the computer point out all the clunkers I’ve missed. Because, despite all the ‘trickery,’ the story is still familiar enough that I don’t catch everything.

For this, I use a program called “Smart Edit.” (I might do a full post on this software another time.) I use the version that’s a Word add-on, and run its checks. I know I have my standard crutch words, but it seems that every manuscript brings a few new ones that I lean on too heavily.

Once I’m finished with the Smart Edit purges, the manuscript goes off to my editor. My work up front means she should be able to spend more time looking at the story, and less time dealing with clunky prose.

The last step for me, which comes right before I’m ready to publish, is to let Word read the manuscript to me. I’ve talked about that before, and using ears instead of eyes is another way to trick the brain into thinking the story is new. And yes, I still find things to fix.

What about you? How do you deal with whipping your manuscript into shape before submitting it?

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.

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.”

Six Questions to Ask Beta Readers

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by Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Cover by Brian Hoffman

Whew!

I just typed “The End” on the draft of Fruit of the Poisonous Tree, the ninth book in my Tawny Lindholm Thriller series.

But “The End” doesn’t mean THE END. Far from it.

Now the fun begins.

Print out the manuscript.

Pro Tip: print the hard copy in a different font than the one used onscreen. Errors and typos pop out more visibly.

Grab the red pen and let it bleed all over the pages. Look for inconsistencies, plot holes, chronology problems, dangling subplots, name or description changes (blue eyes to brown, blond hair to auburn), etc.

Oops. I changed one character’s name from “Fram” to “Framson” and hit “replace all.” But I forgot to put a space on either side of the name. Therefore, every time the letters “fram” appeared, it was changed to “Framson.” The same petite frame now read The same petite Framson.

Once you transfer corrections from the hard copy into the digital copy, it’s time to send to beta readers. Their fresh eyes are invaluable because the author is too close to the story and can’t judge it objectively.

How can you help beta readers help you?

  1. Choose beta readers carefully.

They don’t necessarily need to be other writers, but they do need to be avid readers. Their function is to assess your book as if they plucked it off the bookstore shelf.

Find people who read in your genre. You probably shouldn’t choose a fan of blood-and-guts action thrillers to beta read a picture book for young readers.

But don’t eliminate a possible beta simply because they don’t often read your genre. A viewpoint from a different perspective frequently gives additional dimension your story wouldn’t otherwise have.

  1. Find people you can depend on to read in a timely manner. If you have a deadline, let them know it.
  2. Find appropriate experts.

Do your books have legal, medical, law enforcement, professional, technical, and/or historical elements?

Are you writing about a society, nationality, culture, ethnicity, religion, or other group that you’re not familiar with?

If so, ask for an expert’s help to make your depictions authentic.

Experts are often busy professionals in their field and may not have time to read the entire book. You can send them select passages that you’d like them to review.

For instance, in Deep Fake Double Down, I wanted short, understandable descriptions about how to create and detect deep fakes, but not too many details to bog the story down. I sent several short excerpts to the expert (say that three times fast). He made suggestions and corrected out-of-date information. The review only took him an hour (including our phone conversation) and my story had accurate details.

  1. Ask specific questions.

Do character actions seem plausible and realistic?

Is the plot interesting? Can you follow it?

Does the writing flow smoothly?

Were you confused? Please note where.

Did you lose interest in places? Please note where.

Are there dangling threads that need to be wrapped up?

Please note anything that bothered you.

If you are concerned about particular issues, let betas know so they’re on the lookout.

5. Series writers need to consider additional factors when asking for feedback from beta readers.

Are your books a series?  Or are they serials?

Generally, a series (Sherlock Holmes, Sue Grafton’s Alphabet Series) features continuing characters in a common location, during a similar time frame, often with consistent themes. Each book stands alone with a self-contained plot arc of beginning, middle, end. A reader does not necessarily have to read the books in order.

PublishDrive.com defines serials as:

“…literary works published in sequential installments rather than as complete, standalone books. A serial is a continuing narrative that must be read in the proper sequence to understand the plot.”

Serial examples are The Hunger Games trilogy, Harry Potter (seven books), and Breaking Bad on TV.

Serials can be:

Duology (2 books)

Trilogy (3)

Tetralogy (4)

Pentalogy (5)

Hexology (6)

Heptology (7)

Octology (8)

Ennealogy (9)

Decology (10)

For this post, I only talk about series, not serials.

Generally, readers prefer to read series books in order even though that’s not necessary.

With each book, series writers need to establish the ongoing characters and their relationships to each other, the world where the story takes place, and the time frame.

My Tawny Lindholm Thriller series features investigator Tawny Lindholm and attorney Tillman Rosenbaum. All books (except one) take place in Montana. A common theme is justice will be done (although not necessarily in the courtroom!). Each is written as a standalone.

In the first book, Instrument of the Devil, Tawny is a 50-year-old recent widow who unwittingly becomes entangled in a terrorist plot to destroy the electric grid. Tillman is the attorney who keeps her from going to prison, then hires her to be his investigator.

Although their relationship arc changes and evolves through the series, the plot of each book is separate and self-contained.

For series authors, the balancing act is always how much review is needed to orient new readers vs. too much rehashing from past books that bores ongoing readers.

My regular betas know the series history. But with each new book, I seek out at least one fresh reader who hasn’t read prior books. For that person, I ask specific questions like:

Are relationships among characters clear and understandable?

Can you follow the plot easily?

When events from past books are referred to, can you still follow the current story?

Are past references confusing or unclear?

Do you want more information or clarification?

  1. What about spoiler alerts in a series? Over a number of books, continuing characters often undergo changes in marital/relationship status, children, mental or physical abilities, and even death. They can move to a different location. They shift jobs or functions.

The overall theme may even evolve. One great example is Sue Coletta’s Mayhem series. Hero Shawnee spends several books under attack from serial killer, Mr. Mayhem. Then (spoiler alert) they become unlikely allies as eco-warriors against common enemies that threaten wildlife.

Some spoilers are inevitable. The most obvious is the hero survives the life-or-death catastrophe from the prior book. Otherwise, s/he wouldn’t be around for succeeding stories.

Where does a series author draw the line about giving away secrets?

In Fruit of the Poisonous Tree, I wrangled with a difficult spoiler and even asked for advice from TKZ readers.

The surprise ending from the third book, Eyes in the Sky, comes back to haunt the ongoing characters in the ninth book. I had to weigh whether it was more important to preserve the surprise from Eyes or tell a current story built around that in Fruit. Ultimately, I gave up worrying about revealing it and wrote the new story that demanded to be told.

Fruit of the Poisonous Tree is now out to beta readers, and I’m interested in their reactions to this spoiler.

~~~

Beta readers are important friends for writers to have. To thank them, I always acknowledge them in the published book, give them a signed copy, and, if possible, take them out for lunch or dinner, or send them a small gift.

Make your beta reader’s job as easy and painless as possible. The resulting rewards are well worth it!

~~~

TKZers: Have you used beta readers? Any ideas for other questions to ask them?

Have you been a beta reader? Did the author include questions or concerns for you to watch for? Did that help?

~~~

Deep Fake Double Down was chosen as a Top Pick for the Silver Falchion award, sponsored by Killer Nashville, and was the Mystery Finalist for the BookLife Prize.

Available at major online booksellers.

 

Visit debbieburkewriter.com for more information and release dates for Fruit of the Poisonous Tree.

Clues

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Clue – noun — anything that serves to guide or direct in the solution of a problem, mystery, etc.

* * *

According to the online Merriam-Webster dictionary

‘The word clue was originally a variant spelling of clew, meaning “ball of thread or yarn.” Our modern sense of clue, “guide to the solution of a mystery,” grows out of a motif in myth and folklore, the ball of thread that helps in finding one’s way out of a maze. ‘

 

The “ball of thread” mentioned in the M-W etymology refers to one of my favorite stories in Greek mythology.

The Clue of Ariadne

It all started when there was a war between Crete and Athens. Crete won the war, and the rather sadistic King Minos of Crete exacted a horrible punishment on the Athenians. He required that the king of Athens periodically send seven young men and seven young women to the Isle of Crete to become dinner for the horrible monster, the Minotaur.

The Big M was housed inside a labyrinth constructed by none other than the ingenious Daedalus.  The labyrinth was so large and complex that it served as a prison for the Minotaur. When the poor Athenian sacrifices arrived, they would be forced into the maze. At some point in their wanderings, they’d encounter the Minotaur, and things wouldn’t go well for them.

After this horrific nonsense went on for a few years, a young man named Theseus, the son of the Athenian king, decided enough was enough. He vowed to put a stop to the awful goings-on by sailing to Crete, entering the labyrinth, and killing the Minotaur. That was a noble plan, but it had one problem: the labyrinth was so complicated, he probably wouldn’t find his way out.

That’s when our heroine, Ariadne, entered the picture. Ariadne was the daughter of King Minos, and she fell in love with the dashing Theseus. He promised to marry her if she could figure out a way to get him back out of the labyrinth after he offed Mr. M. (At this point, I feel compelled to say that without Ariadne, Theseus was clueless.)

I truly love simple solutions to complicated problems, and I especially admire people who come up with them. That Ariadne was a problem-solver for the ages. She handed her true love a ball of thread, known as a clew, and told him to unwind it as he wandered around in the labyrinth. Then after he killed the Minotaur, he could just rewind it as he followed it out. Brilliant. And it worked!

Sounds like a Happy Ever After kind of ending, eh? Unfortunately, that scumbag Theseus broke his promise and didn’t marry the beautiful Ariadne, but I think she won out in the end. She got to go down in history as the very first mystery solver, and that’s endeared her to millions of readers through the years, whether they knew her name or not.

* * *

Clues in a modern mystery are a little more sophisticated than a simple ball of thread, and detectives do more (at least we hope they do) than just wander around until they find the culprit.

However, there is one major similarity in our mysteries to the story of Theseus: the detective and the readers are led into a labyrinth. Only this one is constructed by the author. The answer to the mystery is within the maze, but the detective needs to know which clues to follow and which are red herrings.

I liked some of the clue categories listed on zaraaltair.com:

Physical clues: A gun or knife left at the scene of the murder. Maybe a button torn off. Of course, the villain can plant a clue at the scene to misdirect the detective.

Biological clues: Strands of hair, DNA, fingerprints.

Psychological clues: Profilers try to identify the type of person likely to commit a murder, but the detective uses his/her own knowledge of human nature to decide on suspects.

Timing clues: This is one of my favorites. Alibis are established based on the time of death, but clever villains might be able to manipulate that piece of evidence. A smashed watch is always a good clue that might be a red herring.

Clues of Omission: Another favorite. Something should be evident, but it isn’t. There’s a famous example from the Sherlock Holmes mystery “The Adventure of Silver Blaze” by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Holmes (naturally) notices something everyone else has missed.

Gregory (Scotland Yard detective): Is there any other point to which you would wish to draw my attention?
Holmes: To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.
Gregory: The dog did nothing in the night-time.
Holmes: That was the curious incident.

 

 

I don’t know about you, but if I can include clues in such a way the reader finishes the story and slaps him/herself on the side of the head, thinking, “I should have seen it,” then I’ll be happy.

* * *

So TKZers: How do you decide what clues to have in your mystery novels? What clues have inspired you?

 

In Lacey’s Star, there’s only one  clue to the murder, but it’s just a child’s note. It couldn’t be important. Could it?

Lacey’s Star is a Silver Falchion Award Top Pick (Cozy Mystery) at Killer Nashville.

On sale now at  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

5 Timeless Truths of Popular Fiction

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by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

It was in the 1920s that “commercial” or “popular” fiction really took off. Radio was in its infancy and TV was two decades away. The local movie house gave you a night’s entertainment for a dime or a quarter. But to fill the rest of the week, a voracious reading public wanted entertaining fiction delivered regularly…and fast.

Thus, the pulp market exploded, with magazines printed on cheap paper so they could be sold for ten or fifteen cents.

The usual pay for writers was a penny a word. Pulp writers used certain tricks to make an extra penny. For instance, Erle Stanley Gardner (creator of Perry Mason) liked to use both names when a character did or said something (with some unneeded adverbial attributions), a la:

Paul Drake entered Perry Mason’s office.

“Hiya, Beautiful,” Paul Drake said to Della Street, Perry Mason’s confidential secretary.

“Hello, Paul,” Della Street said with a shy smile.

“What brings you by, Paul?” Perry Mason remarked in a curious tone.

A pulp writer named Wyatt Blassingame gave his series character the name Joe Gee, because it was only six letters but counted as a two words. Smart!

But above all these writers had to master what I’m calling “The 5 Timeless Truths of Popular Fiction.” They were writing for the market and if they wanted to keep bread on the table and beer in the icebox, they had to please that market. These truths helped them do it.

  1. A Lead to Root For

Gardner said this was the key. He called it “the lowest common denominator of public interest.” It is the “firm foundation.” If an author doesn’t have that in a story “he doesn’t have anything.”

I don’t see any counter argument for that.

Which is not to say your Lead needs to be a classic “hero.” There are anti-heroes we root for, and also “negative Leads,” such as Scrooge and Scarlett. We root for the latter because we hope for their redemption.

  1. Colorful Characters

No stereotypes or “placeholder” minor characters. This is where am author can add “spice” to the plot. It’s what sets Dickens apart from other Victorian writers. It’s what makes The Maltese Falcon a pleasure to read and view (I mean, how can you beat Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet added to Bogart and Mary Astor, not to mention Elisha Cook, Jr. and Ward Bond? Come on!)

Don’t throw away the opportunity to spice up your tale with colorful characters. 

  1. Major in Action

Leave us not go into the merits of literary fiction. But there is a reason we demarcate literary and commercial fiction. The latter sells more. And it does so in part because it majors in action.

That doesn’t always mean car chase or gunfight type action. It means the main thrust of the story is a character doing things to solve the story question.

And while I’m an advocate of “unobtrusively poetic” prose, solid action by colorful characters can override somewhat clunky writing. If you want an example, read any of the Conan stories by Robert E. Howard. His writing is rough but so full of “blood and thunder” that pulp readers couldn’t get enough of it.

  1. Cliffhangers

The term “cliffhanger” came from the early silent movie serials featuring Pearl White (“The Perils of Pauline”) where an episode would end with Pearl tied to the railroad tracks or literally hanging over a cliff, clutching a branch. You just had to come back next week to see how she got out of it.

But cliffhangers are not limited to these “big” moments. They can also be the subtle things that make a reader want to turn a page or read a next chapter.

One of the things I did when I was learning the craft was read a bunch of thrillers and ask myself why I wanted to read on. I made a list of techniques I call “Read On Prompts” (ROP). I’d jot ROP in the margin of the books each time I found myself eager to turn the page. It’s an invaluable practice I commend to you.

The prolific pulp writer Lester Dent made up a “formula” for a 6k word suspense story. He broke it into four parts of 1500 words, listing the fundamental elements of what needed to be in each quadrant. Here are his goals for the ROPs:

  1. Near the end of first 1500 words, there is a complete surprise twist in the plot development. SO FAR: Does it have SUSPENSE?
  2. A surprising plot twist to end the 1500 words. NOW: Does second part have SUSPENSE? Does the MENACE grow like a black cloud? Is the hero getting it in the neck? Is the second part logical?
  3. A surprising plot twist, in which the hero preferably gets it in the neck bad, to end the 1500 words. Does it still have SUSPENSE? The MENACE getting blacker? The hero finds himself in a hell of a fix? It all happens logically?
  4. Ending the final 1500 words. Final twist, a big surprise, (This can be the villain turning out to be the unexpected person, having the “Treasure” be a dud, etc.). The snapper, the punch line to end it. The suspense held to the last line. Everything been explained? It all happen logically? Is the Punch Line enough to leave the reader with that WARM FEELING?

That last bit brings us to Timeless Truth #5.

  1. Resonant Endings 

Dent’s “warm feeling” I call resonance. As stated in my book The Last Fifty Pages, “Resonance is that last, perfect note in a great piece of music, leaving the audience not just satisfied, but moved. Perhaps even changed.”

That’s why I spend more editing time on my endings, even the last page and paragraphs, than any other part of the book.

We all know that a lousy ending can sour the taste of an otherwise good book or movie.

A good ending is better of course, one that connects all the threads.

But a resonant ending is best of all, for it captures the hearts of the readers and sends them looking for more of your books, which makes you a popular author.

And that’s the truth.

Comments welcome.

More Villainous Words of Wisdom

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Today’s Words of Wisdom returns to an evergreen topic: villains. We love to hate them.  Our fiction needs them. They help drive the plot. Understanding the importance of villains can be the key to writing more engaging and gripping mysteries and thrillers.

Clare Langley-Hawthorne, James Scott Bell and Debbie Burke give advice and tips on creating better villains in your fiction. Afterwards, please give us your take.

It can often be all too easy to fall for the ‘psychotic’ serial killer or other sort of evil cliche without trying to provide for the reader a solid grasp of what lies behind this. Villains rarely consider themselves villains. Sometimes they feel justified (in their own perverted way) or compelled by something to do what they do. Unlike in real life, in fiction, we can often provide the reader with a rationale for someone’s behaviour.

So how do you create a believable villain? How do you ensure that, when it comes to the battle between good and evil, neither side slides into caricature? I’ve been thinking about this a lot in my current WIP and I have some to a few conclusions (or observations, at least) as I go through this process:

1. Characters don’t think they are dumb so don’t make them do ‘dumb’ things just because they are (cue manic Dr. Evil laughter) the bad guy.
2. Don’t fall into the trap of making evil generic. For every character there needs to be a specific reason, cause or motivation for his or her behaviour. The more specific and believable this is, the more believable a character will be.
3. Give you villain a clear objective. I’m not a big fan of the psycho who just seems to do stuff because he is, well, ‘psycho’ – this always seems to the to dilute the power of having an antagonist.
4. Think as much about the back story for your villain as you do for the protagonist of the story – this will ensure the character behaves consistently and with clear purpose. It also helps you avoid falling into a cliche if you have a fully realized back story.

Clare Langley-Hawthorne—July 23, 2012

 

Dean Koontz wrote, “The best villains are those that evoke pity and sometimes even genuine sympathy as well as terror. Think of the pathetic aspect of the Frankenstein monster. Think of the poor werewolf, hating what he becomes in the light of the full moon, but incapable of resisting the lycanthropic tides in his own cells.”

All this to say that the best villains in fiction, theatre, and film are never one-dimensional. They are complex, often charming, and able to manipulate. The biggest mistake you can make with a villain is to make him pure evil or all crazy. 

So what goes into crafting a memorable villain?

  1. Give him an argument

There is only one character in all storytelling who wakes up each day asking himself what fresh evil he can commit. This guy: 

But other than Dr. Evil, every villain feels justified in what he is doing. When you make that clear to the reader in a way that approaches actual empathy, you will create cross-currents of emotion that deepen the fictive dream like virtually nothing else.

One of the techniques I teach in my workshops is borrowed from my courtroom days. I ask people to imagine their villain has been put on trial and is representing himself. Now comes the time for the closing argument. He has one opportunity to make his case for the jury. He has to justify his whole life. He has to appeal to the jurors’ hearts and minds or he’s doomed.

Write that speech. Do it as a free-form document, in the villain’s voice, with all the emotion you can muster. Emphasize what’s called “exculpatory evidence.” That is evidence that, if believed, would tend to exonerate a defendant. As the saying goes, give the devil his due. 

Note: This does not mean you are giving approval to what the villain has done. No way. What you are getting at is his motivation. This is how to know what’s going on inside your villain’s head throughout the entire novel.

Want to read a real-world example? See the cross-examination of Hermann Goering from the Nuremberg Trials. Here’s a clip:

“I think you did not quite understand me correctly here, for I did not put it that way at all. I stated that it had struck me that Hitler had very definite views of the impotency of protest; secondly, that he was of the opinion that Germany must be freed from the dictate of Versailles. It was not only Adolf Hitler; every German, every patriotic German had the same feelings. And I, being an ardent patriot, bitterly felt the shame of the dictate of Versailles, and I allied myself with the man about whom I felt perceived most clearly the consequences of this dictate, and that probably he was the man who would find the ways and means to set it aside. All the other talk in the Party about Versailles was, pardon the expression, mere twaddle … From the beginning it was the aim of Adolf Hitler and his movement to free Germany from the oppressive fetters of Versailles, that is, not from the whole Treaty of Versailles, but from those terms which were strangling Germany’s future.”

How chilling to hear a Nazi thug making a reasoned argument to justify the horrors foisted upon the world by Hitler. So much scarier than a cardboard bad guy.

So what’s your villain’s justification? Let’s hear it. Marshal the evidence. Know deeply and intimately what drives him.

  1. Choices, not just backstory

It’s common and perhaps a little trite these days to give the villain a horrific backstory and leave it at that. 

Or, contrarily, to leave out any backstory at all.

In truth, everyone alive or fictional has a backstory, and you need to know your villain’s. But don’t just make him a victim of abuse. Make him a victim of his own choices.

Back when virtue and character were actually taught to children in school, there was a lesson from the McGuffey Reader that went like this: “The boy who will peep into a drawer will be tempted to take something out of it; and he who will steal a penny in his youth will steal a pound in his manhood.” 

The message, of course, is that we are responsible for our choices and actions, and they have consequences. 

So what was the first choice your villain made that began forging his long chain of depravity? Write that scene. Give us the emotion of it. Even if you don’t use the scene in your book, knowing it will give your villain scope.

James Scott Bell—October 26, 2014

 

I wrote mysteries like I read mysteries, from a state of ignorance, constantly trying to figure out what was going on.

I had a general idea of the bad guy’s motive, but never paid much that attention to the schemes and machinations happening offstage. All action took place onstage because the first or close third POV required the sights, sounds, smells, and emotions be filtered through the protagonist only. My focus stayed stuck on the hero.

The bad guy hid in the shadows behind the curtain until the big reveal at the end. Unfortunately he’d been hiding from the writer too!

Finally, thanks to the wise folks at TKZ, I recognized the big fat blind spot in my books.

Here’s the epiphany:

In crime fiction, the antagonist drives the plot. Unless a crime has been committed, or is about to be committed, there’s nothing for the protagonist to do. The antagonist acts, the protagonist re-acts.

I’d been following the wrong character around all these years! 

My realization probably seems like a big DUH to many crime authors. But I’m sharing it in hopes of helping others like myself who overlooked the obvious.

It’s fun to think like a villain! When I started writing from the bad guy’s POV, a whole new world opened up—a world without conscience, constraints, or inhibitions.

Jordan’s great post from last May says, “The best villains are the heroes of their own stories.” 

Actor Tom Hiddleston says, “Every villain is a hero in his own mind.” Most actors would prefer to sink their fangs into the role of a great villain than play the good guy.

The baddies in my earlier books had been flat and dull because I’d never gotten inside their heads. Finally, the missing element became clear and…my book won a publishing contract!

Why is the villain willing to steal, cheat, and kill? What rationalizations justify the harm done to others? 

A sociopath comes up with perfectly logical justifications and excuses for abhorrent actions.

Irresistible influences like greed, power, and lust can seduce an ordinary person over to the dark side.

Misguided righteousness can lead to horrendous consequences.

A law-abiding citizen may be forced into a corner where he commits acts he would never do under normal circumstances.

If an author roots around in the antagonist’s brain for a while, background, reasons, and rationalizations for antisocial behavior bubble up. Armed with such knowledge, it becomes impossible to write a two-dimensional character. Jim Bell offers a great technique—try to imagine the villain delivering the closing argument to the jury that will determine his fate.

Do you show the villain’s POV in the story or not? That choice is contingent on subgenre.

In a whodunit mystery, the identity of the villain is typically a surprise at the end. Therefore, that POV is generally not shown to the reader, although some authors include passages from the villain’s POV without revealing the identity.

Suspense and thriller novels often are written from multiple POVs, including the villain’s. When the reader knows early on who the bad guy is, the question is no longer whodunit, but rather will s/he get away with it?

The author can choose to show the antagonist’s POV or keep it hidden. But either way, you need to be aware of it because that’s what’s driving the story forward.

Even if you never show the villain’s POV, try writing scenes inside his/her head.You don’t need to include them in the book, but the act of writing them gives you a firmer grasp on that character’s deep desires and how those desires screw up other people’s lives. Once you really understand what the antagonist is striving for, that provides a solid framework from which the story hangs.

If you’re in a corner and your hero doesn’t know what to do next, check in with the villain. While the hero is slogging through steps A, B, and C to solve the crime, the bad guy is offstage setting up roadblocks D, E, and F to keep from being caught.

Debbie Burke—September 28, 2017

***

There you have it, advice on writing villains. Today the authors of our three excerpted posts pose the questions to help jumpstart our discussion:

  1. So how do you approach the process of creating villains? Are there any ‘evil doers’ in novels that strike you as the ‘dumb and dumber’ of their kind? What about the most chilling, compelling and believable villains in fiction?
  2. What’s your approach to villain writing?
  3. What is your villain doing right now? Do you prefer to show the antagonist’s POV or keep it hidden?