First-page critique: CANNIBAL’S HYMN

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By Joe Moore

I took a break from first-page critiques last time around to make room for my friend and guest blogger Tom Schreck to give us some tips on hand-to-hand street fighting. Now back to my regularly scheduled blog. Today, I take a look at a first-page submission called CANNIBAL’S HYMN. My thoughts and suggestions are on the flipside.

Fredrick’s knees and hands shook as he pulled his wallet from a back pocket, bumping his wrist on the Glock snugged against the small of his back. He extracted a business card and flicked the wheel of a cigarette lighter. On the seventh try, and after cave-fireturning his back to the mouth of the cave, the flame stood upright and he set fire to the card stock. Crouched down, he tucked the curling paper into a small mound of dried leaves. His hands were turning white and going numb from cold and he could barely feel his toes, even though he slept with his tennis shoes on.

I should have bought boots. Or better socks, he thought. Shielding the infant pyre with his hands the wind blew across his back and dropped snow onto his neck. He shivered. He snapped pieces off of a branch and began laying them on top of the smoldering tinder. Tight, tiny pops gave way to less meek snaps as the fire grew. He blew steady breaths through pursed lips at the bottom of the fire. The horse clomped about, swishing its tail outside.

Turning around Fredrick stared through the aperture of the cave towards the trees. The snow fell in orderly, regimented lines that seemed more akin to the static waves painted on community theater backdrops than real weather and his eyes began to lose focus, depth disappeared and the forest flattened into a single crowded plane of dark green, gray and white. Then, right then, a small voice opened fire in the back of his mind. He knew it was right. There was no way he was getting away. Everything was too far, the weather too hateful, too many people looking.

He hunched over and crawled back into the darkness of the cave. Pawing around in the darkness he gripped his backpack and pulled it towards him. Setting the Glock to one side he reached down along the side of the bag and shimmied a collapsible aluminum bowl from the bottom and pushed it into shape. But the bottle of water was frozen.

OK, here’s what I know so far: Fredrick is trying to build a fire outside the entrance to a cave. He is hiding from “people”. It’s freezing and he’s not properly dressed for the elements. He is armed. There is a horse nearby. He has come to the realization that he may not survive. After Fredrick starts the fire, he goes inside the cave to fetch a bowl and heat some water.

First the good news. The writer has established two strong questions here that should keep a reader wanting to turn to the next page.

1. Will Fredrick survive the cold?

2. Will he avoid capture?

Now the not-so-good news. This is a hodgepodge of mixed images and confusing staging. Some of the writing is illogical. And a number of things just don’t work visually. Here’s my line-by-line critique.

Fredrick’s knees and hands shook as he pulled his wallet from a back pocket,

Does this mean that the rest of his body parts did not shake? Why isolate the shaking to his knees and hands?

bumping his wrist on the Glock snugged against the small of his back.

Is “snugged” really the word to use here? Is it even a real word? It stopped me as I tried to determine if it was a typo. How about snuggled or pressed?

He extracted a business card and flicked the wheel of a cigarette lighter.

It sounds like the cigarette lighter was in the wallet, too. Unless it really was in the wallet, I would suggest clarifying that he removed it from a pocket or pouch or whatever.

On the seventh try, and after turning his back to the mouth of the cave, the flame stood upright and he set fire to the card stock.

This is an instance of staging confusion. Is Fredrick inside the cave and is shielding the flame from the wind blowing in or is he outside the cave and shielding the flame? Why would he turn his back to the mouth of the cave if he was outside? At this point, I’m not sure where he is. But I do know that building the fire outside in the wind makes little sense.

Crouched down,

The word “down” is not needed since it’s physically impossible to crouch “up”. The economy of words rule: deliver the most information with the least amount of words.

he tucked the curling paper into a small mound of dried leaves. His hands were turning white and going numb from cold

“Were turning” is passive voice, and there’s no need to mention that the numbness is from the cold. What else would it be from?

and he could barely feel his toes, even though he slept with his tennis shoes on.

Why would he do otherwise? Sleeping with his shoes off under these conditions would be insane.

I should have bought boots. Or better socks, he thought.

Better socks? Like $100 silk dress socks? Instead of a meaningless word like better, how about thicker or insulated or woolen or hiking?

Shielding the infant pyre with his hands

OK, I admit that a “pyre” is technically a type of fire—a heap of combustible material, but it’s usually the size of a Rose Bowl Parade float. He may have high hopes that his fire will grow to the size of a pyre, but seriously, this is thesaurus-intensive writing. And it’s the wrong image to put into the reader’s mind.

the wind blew across his back and dropped snow onto his neck. He shivered. He snapped pieces off of a branch and began laying them on top of the smoldering tinder.

Now I know he’s outside the cave. So where is the logic in trying to build a fire in the wind when he could use the shelter of the cave instead?

Tight, tiny pops gave way to less meek snaps as the fire grew. He blew steady breaths through pursed lips at the bottom of the fire.

What other kind of lips would he use to blow steady breaths? And the way this sentence is constructed, the pursed lips are at the bottom of the fire. A cleaner version would be: He blew at the bottom of the fire.

The horse clomped about, swishing its tail outside.

The horse? So is it his horse or did the animal just wander up out of nowhere? Another bit of confusing staging. And it swished its tail outside. Outside of what? The cave?

Turning around Fredrick stared through the aperture of the cave towards the trees.

So is he now inside the cave looking out? And the choice of the word aperture is another example of thesaurus-intensive writing. Yes, technically, aperture is a type of opening. But the image it places into the mind of the reader is normally associated with the parts of a camera lens. Is Fredrick a photographer?

The snow fell in orderly, regimented lines that seemed more akin to the static waves painted on community theater backdrops than real weather

I’ve never seen snow fall in regimented lines. If anything, it’s exactly the opposite. I’ve also never seen “static waves” painted on a community theater backdrop. As a reader, I can’t relate to these references.

and his eyes began to lose focus,

Mine, too.

depth disappeared and the forest flattened into a single crowded plane of dark
green, gray and white.

No idea what’s going on here. Is he on drugs? Hallucinating?

Then, right then,

I think one “then” should do fine.

a small voice opened fire in the back of his
mind.

Opened fire connotes gunfire. Since we don’t know who Fredrick is yet, it would be easy to assume with this phrase that he is military and thinks in military terms. If he is, then this is probably OK. Otherwise, it might not be the best word choice.

He knew it was right. There was no way he was getting away. Everything was too far,

Too far as in distance or plot development? In other words, was the closest place to which he could escape too far away, or had pervious events leading up to this scene gotten too far out of hand?

the weather too hateful,

Hateful is normally a human emotion and may not be the best word choice here. Unless the author intends for the weather to become a contributing “character” with human attributes (think OLD MAN AND THE SEA), I would suggest words like harsh or severe might be better.

too many people looking.

A slight clarification would help here and ratchet up the suspense. Rather than the generic word “looking”, how about something more intense as in, too many soldiers out to kill him or too many cops out to capture him or too many villagers with pitchforks hunting . . . Obviously I don’t know the story, but I think this is a missed opportunity to create tension.

And if so many people are searching for him, wouldn’t the smoke from the fire attract their attention?

He hunched over and crawled back into the darkness of the cave.

OK, so he really is outside the cave.

Pawing around in the darkness

Pawing conjures up the image of the actions of an animal, not a human. That may be fine if the writer wants to start planting seeds in the reader’s mind that Fredrick is someone with animal-like instincts, despite the tennis shoes and bad socks.

he gripped his backpack and pulled it towards him. Setting the Glock to one side he reached down along the side of the bag and shimmied a collapsible aluminum bowl from the bottom and pushed it into shape. But the bottle of water was frozen.

Again, the staging is confusing. Where did the water bottle come from? Like the horse, did it materialize out of thin air? A short clarification avoids confusion.

As we’ve said many times, it takes a lot of guts for a writer to submit a sample for a public TKZ critiquing. And I have the utmost admiration for the courage of anyone who does. At the end of the day, this exercise is all about helping a writer become better at the craft. This submission is not bad at all, but it needs a great deal of clean-up and revision. I get the impression that this is probably a really cool story. The writer needs to decide what images to plant in the reader’s mind that correspond closely to those of his own, and avoid confusing alternatives. Probably the biggest sin committed here is questionable word choice. The words are all a writer has to get the story clearly into the head of the reader. It’s not easy. If it were, everyone would be writing books. Hey, wait, come to think of it everyone is.

So I hope that this writer will take my comments and sometimes snarky suggestions as a means to improving skills. It’s never personal. In fact it can’t be because I have no idea who wrote this submission. It’s always about advancing the art of story telling. Good luck.

Any additional thoughts? Do you agree or disagree with my suggestions? Would you keep reading?

The REAL secret of best-sellers

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I had an epiphany the other day.


My dear friend Pam and I were taking a rare cross-country trip together for the first time in years. This trip, to a weekend reunion of Wellesley friends, was to be our girls-weekend-off escape from the pressures of work and life.

Just before we boarded Jet Blue, we each extracted our books for the road (hardcovers, mind you!). It turned out we’d selected the books–both mega bestsellers–with the particular goal of being a good “airplane read.” 

“These kind of books aren’t even well written, but they’re perfect for a plane ride,” Pam observed.”They’re written like movies.”


Like movies.


Two hours into the flight, I opened up my book and looked at it with fresh eyes. It did, indeed, read like a movie. 


What are the elements that make a novel “like a movie”?

  1. They are written in a highly visual style, with an overall effect that functions almost like a camera’s lens.
  2. They keep the reader flowing precisely in the moment from scene to scene, at the breaking surface of the action. They focus on what the character sees, hears, is feeling, at that exact moment.
  3. There are few digressions into back story or descriptions. 
  4. There’s a lot of “white space,” which means the action and dialogue is flowing briskly, and the pacing is swift.
  5. The chapters are short–sometimes, only a page or two. Again, that helps the action and pacing drive forward.



I don’t know why the phrase “like a movie” hit me with such force. All of these elements–action, pacing, tension–are things we always strive to do as writers. But that the end goal was to write “like a movie”? That was a new thought for me.


Do you agree that most best-selling thrillers are written like movies? What are the elements you see that contribute to pulling it off?

Building the Mythology

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne



Last week I had the privilege of witnessing a true ‘once in a lifetime’ event – the transit of Venus. 


Visible from Melbourne for some six hours last Wednesday, I took my boys out of school and headed down to the historic observatory in our botanical gardens in the hope of actually seeing it (we had terrible weather during the week so there were no guarantees we’d even see the sun!). The local astronomical society had set up telescopes on the lawn and, inside the observatory, the historic 19th century telescope was perfectly positioned to capture an event that, by most calculations, won’t occur again until 2117. 


After waiting over two hours (!) it was finally our turn and, thankfully, the clouds parted and we got a terrific view of Venus as it travelled between the Earth and the Sun. Thing was, after all the build up, what we really saw was a tiny black dot passing across a white disc…so how come my boys declared it to be one of the most ‘awesome’ things they had ever seen? 


Mythology. 


By that I mean that after all the anticipation, research, and history involved, the actual event took on its own kind of mythic status. Therein lay its power and therein lies the power behind some of the most popular bestselling books and films. Think of Harry Potter – or the film Alien. Even Twilight has a detailed mythology that draws readers in. So when writing your current manuscript consider the mythology you are building inside. This doesn’t mean you have to be writing fantasy or science fiction because even with mystery and thrillers what you are creating is your own mythology and a world that will draw a reader in and compel them to read further. 


So what do you need to create  ‘mythology’ within your work?
It could be (to name a few):

  • A sense of an epic battle between good and evil being played out
  • An emotional resonance that seems to tap into a universal yearning (for love, for peace – whatever you like)
  • A world that despite being foreign, alien, or even historical feels so fully formed that a reader is transported (using all five senses) 
  • A sense of something that lifts a reader from the mundane to the profound

As a writer or a reader, what do you think about when you consider the ‘mythology’ of a book? Do certain issues resonate with you and therefore raise a book to mythic status in your eyes? Have there been events in your life which have gained almost mythological status? How do you weave mythology into your own work?

Rhino Skin

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Today’s column is brought to you by Kit Shannon, turn-of-the-century Los Angeles lawyer. ANGELS FLIGHT, the second novel in The Trials of Kit Shannon series, is now available for Kindleand Nook.

Nothing had prepared her for the hostility of a city gripped by prejudice . . .

But you have to be prepared for the slings and arrows of the writing life. These may come in the form of rejection letters, bad reviews, angry reader e-mails,  personal jabs from a family member, or any  number of other places.
           
To survive, you need to develop Rhino skin. You need an outer armor that takes the hits but doesn’t stop you. Here’s how you get it:
1. Let rejection, or criticism, hurt for a day, no more
It’s all right to take a hit and feel its full force. Don’t try to hide from the emotional impact. Give vent. Destroy a pillow if you must. But let go after half an hour or so. Determine to go immediately to #2.

2. Write
When my son fell off his two wheeler the first time out, I didn’t let him quit. I got him back on the bike and almost burst my lungs running with him. We repeated the process till he got it.
           
He did not like falling. But when he was back on the bike and peddling, he was not thinking about the fall. He was thinking about staying up for the next few feet.
           
Writing is like that. When you are down about your writing, pound out those words. Dennis Palumbo, in his book Writing From the Inside Out,says “Every hour you spend writing is an hour spent not fretting about your writing.”
           
A daily quota is tonic for your ache.
           
What you’ll find is wonderful: when your mind reflects back on the hurt, the wound won’t be as deep as it once was. And the more you do write, the more the hurt begins to fade. You won’t forget it, but it won’t debilitate you.

3. Review your career path
And that’s what you’re on. Do not think of yourself as someone trying to sell a novel. You are a writer, and that means you never quit.
           
Do you need to start another book? What will you do differently? What can you learn from the rejection or the critic that is of actual value to you? Learn that thing then write and forget the rest.

4. Reward yourself
For a writing job finished, for a quota met, for a manuscript completed, heck, for just about anything, treat yourself to something.
           
When I finish a manuscript I like to take a full day off and go on a literary goof. There are used bookstores in L.A. I like, so I’ll start there, browse the shelves, pick up that Cornell Woolrich I’ve been missing, or add to my collection of 50’s paperback originals.
           
I might just go to a park or the beach, put out a chair and read.
           
That night, I’ll take my wife to one of our favorite places for dinner. You simply have to enjoy the journey or what’s the point of it all?

5. Remind yourself
Two reminders to put inside your head.
           
The first is to remember that the greatest writers of all time have been rejected and, once published, slammed in a review.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich, writing in the Atlantic Monthly in 1892, said of Emily Dickinson, “An eccentric, dreamy, half-educated recluse in an out-of-the-way New England village—or anywhere else—cannot with impunity set at defiance the laws of gravitation and grammar. Oblivion lingers in the immediate neighborhood.”
           
Nothing of Mr. Aldrich, to my knowledge, remains in print.
           
An unnamed editor returned Tony Hillerman’s first Navajo detective manuscript to him, with a note: “If you insist on rewriting this, get rid of all that Indian stuff.”
           
When you get a rejection or bad review, remember you’re in very good company.
           
And then remind yourself constantly that you are a writer, because you write. There are many more people who do not write yet feel perfectly at ease sniping at those who do. When such a snipe comes your way, know that you are the one putting yourself on the line, opening a vein, walking the tightrope, singing a solo under hot lights. You are part of a courageous bunch who are all about doing. Teddy Roosevelt’s famous advice applies to writers:
“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena . . . who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
Get in the arena. Go at your writing with all the devotion and love and enthusiasm you have. When the darts of rejection or criticism come your way, keep writing. You will stop them with Rhino skin, and keep right on charging ahead.

The Butterfly Effect

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One of the leading stories this week concerned the passing of Ray Bradbury. This is noteworthy considering that in the 1940s Bradbury was to a great extent consigned to the pulp magazines. I’d wear a legacy such as that like a badge of honor now, but back then it was anything but. So-called “serious” or “literary” authors did not frequent those types of publications. Bradbury kept plugging away and by the mid-1960s his novels and short stories were being studied in university courses. If you wanted to break a friend into the science-fiction genre, you did so by steering him over to the paperback section of a drug store and thrusting FAHRENHEIT 451 (“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of that. Did he write that?”) or THE MARTIAN CHRONICLES or THE ILLUSTRATED MAN into their hands. Bradbury has seen his work go from pulps to hardcover to paperbacks to yes, e-books. News comes that there is going to be a huge roll-out of his work in digital form, sooner rather than later. A few things were available at the time of this death; a sticking point that had kept more from being available had nothing to do with adversity to the technology; Bradbury simply did not want the libraries to be bypassed. Indeed, word comes down that in accordance with The Man’s wishes e-book versions will be available for lending from your local library as well.
Most folks talk about FAHRENHEIT 451 when they mention Bradbury. I’m going to talk about four short stories that have stuck in my mind for over fifty years. Every time we get a gullywasher around here, when the rain pours and pours for more than a day or so, I think of “The Long Rain” a gem of Bradbury’s from 1950. First published in a wonderful little periodical titled Planet Stories, the tale deals with three earthmen who are stranded on Venus in the midst of the torrential rains which at that time everyone thought enveloped the planet. A classic. “The Small Assassin” is one of the darkest stories that Bradbury, or anyone, ever wrote. I missed its original publication in 1946 in the pages of Dime Mystery(love that title) by a few years but I am sure it caused a stir. Read this story about a baby who may or may not be homicidal and see what you think about toys left on the stairs and pretty things. “Way in the Middle of the Air” was published in  Other Worlds in 1950 and became a part of the canon of  The Martian Chronicles. It was social commentary disguised as science fiction, telling the tale of the day that all of the black folks left the country and emigrated to Mars, and the surprising reaction from some quarters. While I have never forgotten this story since  the day that I read it, it, I had particular cause to recall it several years ago, during one of a series of visits to New Orleans.  I was staying on the east side of the city at that time and, purely by happenstance, went for two days without seeing a Caucasian face. It briefly crossed my mind that perhaps all of the white folks had left the country and I had somehow missed the memo. The story was still so vivid in my mind, some forty-odd years on, that I expected to see the rocket departing when I looked up in the sky. The most haunting of Bradbury’s stories for me personally, however, remains 1952’s “The Sound of Thunder.” It has been heavily anthologized, but first appeared in Collier’sin 1952. I as a rule don’t care for time travel stories, but this one is quite different,  a cautionary tale about the importance of following directions and staying on the path. The term “butterfly effect” was indirectly coined as a result of this story. If you haven’t read it, do so and see why.
Now it is your turn. What is your favorite Ray Bradbury novel, collection, or short story? Do you recall when you first read a Bradbury work? How did it affect you? And if you have never read any of Bradbury’s works, we’d like to know that, too.

Leave Your Warm-Up in the Gym

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By John Gilstrap

Week before last, I had the honor of serving on the staff of the Writing Away Retreat in beautiful Breckenridge, Colorado, where we awoke to snow, only to have it melt in the 70-degree afternoon sunshine. 

Here’s how it works: Twenty writers (as many as 31, actually) gather in this massive mansion of a house just off Main Street, where they spend five days together in the most nurturing, creative environment that I have experienced outside of teaching I used to do at Virginia’s Governor’s School for the Humanities and Visual and Performing Arts.  Cicily Janus, the Retreat’s creator and hostess, is a gourmet chef who creates outstanding meals out of only fresh and natural foods.  We’re not talking granola and seeds here, folks, but rather fresh beef, fresh eggs, fresh fruit and vegetables.  Mac-n-cheese lunch day is a nearly religious experience.

As faculty—a position I shared with a number of other professional writers, editors and literary agents—my job was to critique 10,000-word submissions from the attending writers.  That accounted for a few hours of every day, and the rest of the time allowed me to write nearly thirty pages of HIGH TREASON, my Grave book for 2013.  I confess that it was a little intimidating to consider offering an honest critique and then dining and partying with the people on the other end, but I was thrilled to see that this was a group of realists, who understand that honest criticism is part of the writing journey.

As far as I can tell, no one ever turned on a television, unless it was in their private bedroom (this is a BIG house), and every attendee found the inspiration they needed to take the next step forward on their manuscript.  Folks, if given the opportunity to attend one of these events, I recommend that you pounce on the opportunity.  (I have no idea what people pay to attend, but when you factor in the four-star lodging and five-star food, I’m sure it’s worth the price.)  I will forever have fond memories of the alcohol-infused marathon 8-Ball tournament with Andre, Signe and Eric.  I’m sure I didn’t win, but I have no idea who did.

There’s a talent bell curve in any event like this, but I have to say that overall, I was highly impressed with the level of talent among the students.  Two stories in particular have what I think is tremendous commercial potential.

While strengths and weaknesses vary, though, nearly 100% of the submissions shared the same weakness: a first-chapter digression to backstory.  They’d launch with a terrific hook, they’d get some good momentum going, and then they’d slam on the brakes to tell me stuff that I really didn’t need to know.  The rationale was always the same: “I need the reader to understand where my character is coming from.”  Or some variation thereof.

No, they don’t the reader needs to be pulled along by compelling real-time, on-stage action.  Motivation can wait.  Motivation can always wait.

We all do it, folks.  very writer on the planet makes the same mistakes.  What separates the professionals from the hopefuls is the ruthless, critical eye that allows us to carve up our beloved creations with a dull machete.

Of the submissions I critiqued, a full 30% included the recommendation to kill the first chapter and start with the second.  In one case, I suggested that the book start on page 25.  It’s as if we address the daunting task of writing a book with 2,500 words of warm-up.  Twenty-five hundred words of tuning.  Rehearsal, maybe.  That’s fine.  Whatever gets the creative juices flowing.

And now that the juices are flowing, erase the rehearsal from your recording CD.

**

Okay, now there’s one bit of shameless self-promotion (as if I need to burden you with more of that).  I learned earlier this week that Threat Warning was nominated for a Shamus Award from the Private Eye Writers of America.  It’s one of the big ones, and I’m totally jazzed.

First Page Critique: The Year of the SSSSSnake

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By Jordan Dane

My post series on self-publishing (post #2) will continue after this first-page critique. You know the drill. My comments on the flip side.


San Jose, California

Casey crouched behind the concrete block retaining wall and peered around the corner. Bright light shown from an industrial overhead light, illuminating the parking lot in back of the old computer parts shop.

Five men dressed in black t-shirts were loading long unmarked boxes into the back of an equally unmarked van. Three of them had guns tucked into the back waistband of their jeans. Guns. She squinted into the wash of flood light, but couldn’t make out the van’s plate.

Dammit. She was going to have to get closer. A job was a job, right? Brian had assured her it was a good one. Yeah, like he was at the top of her ’T for Trustworthy’ list. But he had said it paid well. In cash.

Still, guns. She blew out a breath. But cash. She nodded to herself. Get closer, check it out, then leave — fast — if… Yeah, if.

The shadows were ink black from the light, but sparse. She glanced at her Kawasaki leaning a few feet away. Not exactly a stealth cycle. On foot, then. She shifted her weight, ready to dart behind a huge SUV three rows over. They won’t see you. The light’s too bright. Stay low. No noise. She swallowed, hard. They won’t see you.

Her hip vibrated. She fell back, landing on her butt, scrabbling in the gravel to make sure she was out of sight behind the wall. She grabbed the phone and flipped it open. “What the fuck have you gotten me into, you slimy piece of shit?” she hissed in a harsh whisper. “They have guns, Brian. Guns.”


“Get out of here, little girl,” the voice on the phone said.

She went still, then checked the caller ID. Private caller. Not Brian. Shit. “Who the hell‘re you?”

“You’re in way over your head. Go home.”


Looks like Casey is in real trouble. And they’ve got GUNS! (Sorry mystery author, but I had to clear the italics. Blogger went weird on me.) Overall, there is a lot to like about this intro. I get a sense of action and Casey’s POV is fun to read. I’m intrigued enough to turn the page, for sure, but there are improvements that could be made to tighten the opener.

Casey crouched behind the concrete block retaining wall and peered around the corner. Bright light shown from an industrial overhead light, illuminating the parking lot in back of the old computer parts shop.

This opening line didn’t do anything for me. The only thing of value here is the name Casey being introduced and a quick reference to the setting being a parking lot behind a parts shop. The author clearly is trying to establish that Casey can see what’s going on (their guns) because of the overhead light. I’m also not sure why a last name for the character is not given. If we are in the head of the character, they would not refer to themselves in the 3rd person, but at the start of a book, this is the one area you can mention the name and readers expect it. Sure, the name could be introduced in conversation, but why not mention it in the intro. The details mentioned in the first two lines might work better if they were included in tightened paragraph 2, such as:

Possible rewrite – Casey crouched in the dark watching five men dressed in black. They were loading long unmarked boxes into the back of a van parked behind an old computer parts shop. Three of them had guns. Guns. From behind a retaining wall, she squinted into the wash of the flood light they worked under, but couldn’t make out the van’s plate.

At the start of the next paragraph, there is an example of passive voice.
Passive-She was going to have to get closer.
Stronger-She had to get closer.

A job was a job, right? Brian had assured her it was a good one. Yeah, like he was at the top of her ’T for Trustworthy’ list. But he had said it paid well. In cash.

Although this is in Casey’s voice, it took me out of the action a bit, even though these lines are short. These lines made me wonder why she would do this job if she didn’t trust Brian. This reflects on her smarts too.

The author might have considered having Casey creep closer, out of her safety zone of the retaining wall and her bike, before she gets that creepy phone call from someone watching HER. Having said that, I would suggest that these lines be shortened to (if they apply): Brian promised her cash for the job, but how far could she trust another thief?

Still, guns. She blew out a breath. But cash. She nodded to herself. Get closer, check it out, then leave — fast — if… Yeah, if.

These lines are redundant (the guns and the cash) and don’t add anything. They TELL the reader what she wants to do, rather than SHOW them. The debate in her head reads a little choppy and is harder to follow. For me, it detracted from the action. I would rather SEE her getting closer with a build-up of tension before her cell vibrates.

The shadows were ink black from the light, but sparse. She glanced at her Kawasaki leaning a few feet away. Not exactly a stealth cycle. On foot, then. She shifted her weight, ready to dart behind a huge SUV three rows over. They won’t see you. The light’s too bright. Stay low. No noise. She swallowed, hard. They won’t see you.

The first line caused me to read it over. Shadows can’t be ink black with a light shining on them. I understand what the author meant, but this description made me reread it. Perhaps something like – Beyond the light, shadows were inky black.

This paragraph starts out with the shadows and how they won’t see her, but the Kawasaki lines interrupt this idea that is picked up at the end again. Casey’s thought process is out of sequence and leaps around as a result. How important is it to mention that she rode in on a Kawasaki (other than the chuckle factor)? Can that aspect wait until her getaway?

The Kawasaki made me chuckle and wonder what she was thinking. If she’s casing a place or doing anything in stealth, why ride in on a loud Kawasaki? And why even consider getting closer using her bike? (I’m guessing here, but is there a reason that the huge SUV is mentioned, like perhaps that a cop is on a stake out in that SUV and is the guy calling her at the end?)

Her hip vibrated.

This description pulled me out. Surely there is a better way to describe this. Her hip isn’t doing the vibrating. Her cell is.

She fell back, landing on her butt, scrabbling in the gravel to make sure she was out of sight behind the wall.

This sentence could be sharper. Something like – After landing on her butt, she scrambled and dove for cover.

She grabbed the phone and flipped it open. “What the fuck have you gotten me into, you slimy piece of shit?” she hissed in a harsh whisper. “They have guns, Brian. Guns.”

Using the F bomb on the first page has been mentioned before on TKZ as something to avoid. Although it doesn’t bother me, I do appreciate that other readers could be unnecessarily offended and this could detract from book sales and reviews. Something to consider.

I do love the fact that Casey gets a mysterious call from someone watching her at the end of this intro. Definitely makes the reader wonder what’s going on. I’d turn the page. How about you?

It takes a lot of guts to submit your work for critique. Kudos to the author. Having your work under a microscope on a blog for feedback, it is easy to comment on each line. I hope the suggestions made today strengthen your work. I always learn from these critique sessions. Thanks for your submission.

RAILS Critique

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RAILS: First Page Critique
Enoch grumbled through his mustache. His head jerked left and right, looking for a parking spot around Canaan Height’s town hall. Deputy Hollis Wolford stepped into the street, flashing the flat of his hand, slowing us to a stop.

“Head over to the church’s lot. Ain’t no parking here.”

Tobacco juice stained a corner of Hollis’s mouth, his finger barreling toward the Methodist church. I couldn’t help but focus on his lazy eye, the right one. When he looked toward the church, the eye drifted elsewhere.

“Have to wonder how he got into the sheriff’s department,” I said after we parked. I grabbed a fan, the one with Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. I didn’t expect it to help, being July and with hot-heads gathering at the hall.

Enoch rushed me along the sidewalk. “C’mon, woman. We’re missing the Ol’ Time Bloomers Raiders.”

“Pshaw. They haven’t sung any new songs since John Polk passed two years ago.”

He steered me around a cluster of men milling near the door. “Airplane crashes killed many a great song writer. Buddy Holly, Patsy Cline, Cowboy Copas,” he said.

A row of chairs showed two vacant seats. Helen Lipscomb sat in front of them. I took a deep breath before surging ahead. “At least John made a respectable exit. The others could learn from him.”

We clambered through a line of legs, offering “Excuse mes” and “Pardon mes.” Enoch settled in his seat as I leaned over and whispered in Helen’s ear.

“Who’s minding the restaurant?”

Perspiration beaded on her forehead. “Laurel. Thought you’d be here. Deloris’s running things. Hopefully, not into the ground.” Years of smoking gave her a raspy voice. She chuckled at her own joke, causing a coughing spasm.

“Fat chance. With this crowd here, your daughter’s probably sitting alone.”

Her nose sniffed the air. “They paint the hall recently?”

Paint cans and drop cloths gathered at the platform’s base, left by careless caretakers. I tilted my head in their direction. “As they say, ‘A good paint job covers a multitude of tales.’”

“If that’s true, more than the hall needs painting.”

My Critique
Overall, the author’s voice is unique and I can picture a western setting here. However, I need more thoughts and identity on the main character. Establish that the protagonist is a female right up front. I’d like to be in her head and learn her attitude toward this meeting. And what’s she wearing? Have her smooth down her dress or skirt or whatever.

Also, the setting isn’t clear. Is this modern day or the past? Western U.S.? You’ve established that it’s July, so that’s good.

Now for some particulars:
In the first paragraph, you have Enoch’s head jerking around and then looking for something. Change sentence to read: He jerked his head…

Then you change viewpoints with the Deputy. Start a new paragraph there.

Slowing us to a stop? Who’s us? The viewpoint character is unclear.
Better to read like this:

Enoch grumbled through his mustache. He jerked his head left and right, looking for a parking spot around Canaan Height’s town hall.

Deputy Hollis Wolford stepped into the street, flashing the flat of his hand, slowing us to a stop.
“Head over to the church’s lot. Ain’t no parking here.” Tobacco juice stained a corner of Hollis’s mouth, his finger barreling toward the Methodist church.

I couldn’t help but focus on his lazy eye, the right one. When he looked toward the church, the eye drifted elsewhere.

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I like the speaker (Relation to Enoch?) grabbing a fan and the references to July and the hot heads in the town hall. Oh, then we find out she’s a woman. Make this clear up front.

You don’t need the “he said” in the paragraph beginning with “He steered.” It’s clear who is speaking: “…Cowboy Copas,” he said.

Careless caretaker: Can you change the adjective?

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In general, it’s an interesting start but I think the action skips ahead a little too much with not enough setup regarding the protagonist or the location. Sometimes we’re a bit too eager to get to the action. In this case, I’d rather you slow down and show me more insights into who these people are and where they are.

Cruise With Your Muse: An Opportunity to Create

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By: Kathleen Pickering  http://www.kathleenpickering.com

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I believe networking is one of the most important writing business tools for authors. I’ve stressed this fact several times in previous discussions.

While TKZ is a mystery writers site, I make it a point to attend cross-genre conferences because we are ALL writers with something to teach each other.

Today, I’m here to suggest an excellent conference opportunity to add to your networking schedule—or to use as a jump off point if the conference world is new to you.

The Florida Romance Writer’s Cruise With Your Muse Conference, in my humble opinion, offers one of the most laid-back atmospheres to either get your feet wet in the writing industry or celebrate your writing career.

Blue Heaven-Key West

Adam Wilson playing ping-pong while the group awaits  table for breakfast at Blue Heaven in Key West.

 

22236_282690434155_700359155_3635882_220329_n[1]There is something about attending writing  workshops and mingling with authors, editors and agents aboard a beautiful ocean liner that sets the mood for relaxed, fun and productive results. Fellow Blogger, Nancy Cohen, who writes romance and mysteries has also attended this conference as a workshop presenter.

Founding Mothers and imposters

Joan Johnston, Aleka Nakis, Heather Graham, Kathleen Pickering, Sally Fairchild and Tracy Hall after a skit honoring three of FRW’s founding mothers.

Attendees such as authors Heather Graham (who will attend the up-coming cruise), Alexandra Sokoloff, Joan Johnston, Sally Fairchild, Erin McCarthy (another up-coming 2013 attendee), Karen Kendall, as well as TOR editor Eric Raab, Simon & Shuster editor Adam Wilson, Harlequin editor Wanda Ottewell, and agents Lucy Childs and Lucienne Diver were just some of the contributors to previous conferences’ success. You will also note that several of the above named folks write and represent genres other than romance.

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After three years of conference networking, my career launched as the result of the last Florida Romance Writers Cruise With Your Muse Conference in 2011. I met my editor and agent on board. Networking with them in such a care-free environment helped us get to know each other better without the the stress of “performing.” In these two short years working with my agent and editor, I have signed contracts for four books and another novel is being shopped around as we speak.

I consider that excellent results from attending a Cruise!

Charlaine Harris fans will be thrilled to know that Charlaine is our Keynote Speaker for the next FRW Cruise.

charlaine harris

Charlaine is the New York Times Best Selling author of the Sookie Stackhouse urban fantasy series and HBO series, True Blood http://www.hbo.com/true-blood.

Charlaine possesses thirty years of knowledge and success in the writing industry. She will be sharing her insights with authors. Wouldn’t you just love some one-on-one time with her? And, I know she’s going to look hot in a balloon hat!

Visit Charlaine’s website for more details about her amazing career. (http://www.charlaineharris.com/)

Here is a photo from the last conference lunch on the wharf in Cozumel. It’s like a WHERE’S WALDO picture, but if you look closely you can spot  notable authors, editors and agents. (Another of these photos adorns the banner on my Facebook page. www.facebook.com/kathleenpickering)

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So, I beg forgiveness for turning this blog into an advertisement for the FRW Cruise, but I so wholeheartedly endorse networking as a writing business tool, that I didn’t want to miss the chance to share this opportunity.

I will be on this Cruise. I hope to see you there!

Write on, my friends!

xox, Piks

Early Readers

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by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

Always on the lookout for some great new books for my twin boys to read, I was in two city bookstores last Friday when a depressing realization set in…As I scoured the shelves it became increasingly obvious how gender segregated these early readers seem to be. On the boys’ side were books like the Zac Powers and Jack Stalwart secret agents series, Boy vs. Beast and Battle Boy while on the girls’ side were the Rainbow Magic Fairy books, Ivy and Bean, Mermaid and Unicorn books. 


Although I know there are definitely cross-over books like The Magic Tree House books (which are, believe it, or not hard to find in Australia), the way the section was laid out made it clear that there were ‘boy books’ and ‘girl books’ and I had to wonder what kind of message this sent to kids (who are, after all, the readers of the future). 


Although  I’m not the sort who believes we should inflict some crazy gender neutrality on kids, it is kind of depressing that the majority of  ‘boy’ books are all about aliens, battles and secret agents while the girls books were all pink and cutesy with themes of flowers, fairies, unicorns and magic…I wonder as these kids grow up how this will affect their reading choices (which, to be fair, vastly improve as they get to  middle grade and teen books).


My boys think I should rectify the situation by writing some awesomely cool series aimed just for them (I only wish ideas came that easily!) but all I can do is try to mitigate the situation by opening their minds to a whole range of reading choices. I remember growing up that, though there were obviously some girl/boy-centric books, there were heaps of stories that appealed to everyone. Both my husband and I grew up on Enid Blyton’s Famous Five, Mystery and Adventure series and so when we talk about books that we loved as children we have lots of common ground. I just can’t believe twenty-odd years later, that the gap between what boys and girls read seems to have grown wider – at least among primary/elementary school kids. 


Perhaps part of the reason is the perception that it is hard to get boys to read and so publishers have been focusing on ‘cool’ themes to try and encourage boys to pick up a book. Nothing wrong with that…but I have to admit, as a parent, I would love to see books that have broader appeal. Not to mention that the actual writing itself is pedestrian. I fear that the early book market become little more than a production line pushing out a plethora of bland, badly written books.


I feel like there are so many amazing children’s picture books and then there is this huge gap until middle-grade or young adult books (where I think there are some fabulous things going on). Should I be worried that by the time my boys reach that point they will think that books are divided (like clothes) on gender lines (blue for boys, pink for girls…)?


So what do you think? Is reading in these early years getting more gender specific? Is anyone else depressed when they look at books aimed for 6-10 year olds?