Characters: The Good, the Bad and the Unnecessary

Posted on by

Protagonists, antagonists and supporting characters– without some version of each, it would be very difficult to write a thriller, and even harder to write a murder mystery. Protagonists must tackle the obstacles they face, with strength of will, usually sooner rather than later. Antagonists must throw up roadblocks; oppose, fight, scheme, betray, whatever it takes to get what they want, depending upon the character. Let’s not forget supporting characters—both protagonists and antagonists need them.

In today’s Words of Wisdom, James Scott Bell discusses that strength of will every protagonist needs, while Jodie Renner dives into creating a fascinating, believable antagonist. Finally, Joe Moore talks about the challenge of removing a character you realize is unnecessary to your novel. This last was something I had to do with my most recent novel, erasing no fewer than three supporting characters, because each turned out to be unnecessary.

As always, it’s worth reading the full posts, which are date-linked from their respective excerpts.

There is no novel, no drama, no conflict, no story without a Lead character fighting a battle through the exercise of his will.

As Lajos Egri states in his classic, The Art of Dramatic Writing:

A weak character cannot carry the burden of protracted conflict in a play. He cannot support a play. We are forced, then, to discard such a character as a protagonist … the dramatist needs not only characters who are willing to put up a fight for their convictions. He needs characters who have the strength, the stamina, to carry this fight to its logical conclusion.

Let’s think about Scarlett O’Hara for a moment. Do we want 200 pages of her sitting on her porch flirting with the local boys? Do we want to listen to her selfish prattle or watch her flit around in big-hoop dresses?

I’m not sure we want anything to do with her at all after seven pages or so, but then! She learns that Ashley Wilkes, her ideal, her dream husband-to-be, is going to marry that mousy Melanie!

She immediately lays plans to get him alone at the big barbecue. She’ll tell him of her love and he’ll dump Melanie. Through strength of will she draws him into a room where they can be alone.

Only her plan does not work out as intended. Which is good! For strength of will must be met with further obstacles and challenges and setbacks. The protagonist has to keep fighting, or the book is over.

That’s why, after the setback with Ashley, Scarlett faces a further complication—a little thing I like to call the Civil War.

For the rest of the book Scarlett will have to show strength of will to save the family home and fight for the man she loves (NOTE: strength of will does not always mean strength of insight. Scarlett does not realize until it’s too late who she really loves. Of course, we could have told her. It’s the guy who looks like Clark Gable!)

Now, a character can start passive. But she cannot stay there for long. In Stephen King’s Rose Madder, the opening chapter depicts a wife who is horribly abused by her psycho husband. The chapter ends with the chilling line: Rose McClendon Daniels slept within her husband’s madness for nine more years. 

Wise storyteller that he is, King does not give us more pages of abuse. No, he quickly gets us to a blood stain. It’s what Rose sees on a sheet as she makes the bed one morning, a reminder of her most recent beating. Nothing she hasn’t seen before, only this time it triggers something inside her:

She looked at the spot of blood, feeling unaccustomed resentment throbbing in her head, feeling something else, a pins-and-needles tingle, not knowing this was the way you felt when you finally woke up.

Then comes Rose’s strength of will. She finally does what her husband has strictly forbidden—leave the house. Do that, he warns, and I’ll track you down and kill you.

For us, walking out a door is a small thing, but for Rose Daniels it is the biggest risk of her life. But she does it.

And that’s why we want to watch her for the rest of the book. She will have to exercise her will many times in order to survive.

James Scott Bell—October 25, 2015

 

To pose a credible, significant threat and cause readers to worry, your antagonist should be as clever, powerful, and determined as your protagonist. Challenges and troubles are what make your main character intriguing, compel her to be the best she can be. They force her to draw on resources she never knew she had in order to survive, defeat evil, or attain her goals.

For today’s post, we’ll assume your antagonist is a villain – a mean, even despicable, destructive character we definitely don’t want to root for. He needs to be a formidable obstacle to the protagonist’s goals or a menace to the hero’s loved ones or other innocents. And thrillers, fantasy, and horror require really frightening, nasty villains.

Most of the bad guys in movies and books want the same thing: power. Or maybe revenge or riches. And they don’t care who gets hurt along the way. Or worse, they enjoy causing pain, even torturing their victims.

The antagonist needs to be powerful, a game-changer. As Chuck Wendig says in his excellent blog post “25 Things You Should Know About Antagonists,” “The antagonist is there to push and pull the sequence of events into an arrangement that pleases him. He makes trouble for the protagonist. He is the one upping the stakes. He is the one changing the game and making it harder.”

The protagonist and antagonist have clashing motivations. Their needs, values, and desires are at odds. The antagonist and protagonist could have completely opposite backgrounds and personalities for contrast – or be uncomfortably similar, to show how close the protagonist came or could come to passing over to the dark side.

Most readers are no longer intrigued by “mwoo-ha-ha,” all-evil antagonists, like Captain Hook in Peter Pan. Unless you’re writing middle-grade fiction, be sure your villain isn’t unexplainably horrid, evil for the sake of evil. Today’s sophisticated readers are looking for an antagonist who’s more complex, realistic, and believable.

Chuck Wendig suggests antagonists should be depicted as real people with real problems: “People with wants, needs, fears, motivations. People with families and friends and their own enemies. They’re full-blooded, full-bodied characters. They’re not single-minded villains twirling greasy mustaches.”

For a believable, fascinating antagonist or villain, try to create a unique, memorable bad guy of a type that hasn’t been done to death. Try to give him or her an original background and voice.

Remember that the antagonist is the hero of his own story. He thinks he’s right. He justifies his actions somehow, whether it’s revenge, a thirst for power, ridding society of undesirables, or payback. He may even feel he has a noble or just goal, as in the serial killer of prostitutes.

Jodie Renner—March 9, 2015

Lynn and I write thrillers with complex plots, and THE PHOENIX APOSTLES is turning out to be the most complex of all. Because of the complexity, we have some really intense brainstorming sessions, especially as we approach the end of the book and must tie all the loose ends together so they are resolved for the reader. Our conference calls go on for hours as we play “what if”, argue, plot, and strategize. Since we live over 300 miles apart and only meet once or twice a year, we rely on unlimited long distance calling to work out the details.

Recently, we were discussing how each of our characters would resolve at the climax of the book. We both like big Hollywood endings, and this one is shaping up to be a whopper. We were going down the list of ever character, either signing their death warrants or letting them live another day. We knew what should happen to Carlos, but when we got to Teresa, we came up short. As a matter of fact, we couldn’t even justify placing her in the final scene. Normally, we assign all our characters “jobs” in each scene, and she was pretty much unemployed by the time the shit hit the fan.

There was a long silence on the phone. Then Lynn asked that dreaded question no self-respecting fictional character ever wants to hear. “Do we really need her?”

“You mean in the climax?”

“No, in the book?”

After another long pause, I had to admit she was right. If Teresa vanished from the pages of our novel, would it make any difference? The reluctant but honest answer was, no.

We came to the conclusion that we could convert all of Teresa’s “jobs” into the Carlos character and the result would be a tighter, crisper story with fewer heads to hop between.

And so the killing began.

Within a few hours, I had gone through the entire manuscript, found every instance of Teresa’s character, rewrote each one and shifting her responsibilities, motivations, and character development to Carlos. By sundown, Teresa was pronounced dead. Worse than dead; like some former Soviet government official who fell out of favor, she simply ceased to exist.

I had lived with Teresa for over a year. I knew her wants and needs. I liked her. But I had to sacrifice her to make for a better story. I mourned her passing, drank some whisky, and moved on.

R.I.P Teresa Castillo.

Joe Moore—July 1, 2009

***

There you have it, advice dealing with protagonists, antagonists and unnecessary characters.

  1. How have you shown your protagonist’s strength of will? Do you have a favorite example from fiction or film of this in action?
  2. How do you like to bring your antagonist to life? What’s the most fun aspect of creating an antagonist for you?
  3. Have you ever had to erase a character from one of your novels or stories? How much work was it? Any advice?

***

Brand-new librarian Meg Booker is just supposed to be checking out books.

Instead, it’s the patrons who are being checked out–permanently.

A Shush Before Dying, the first book in my new cozy library mystery series set in the 1980s, is now out, and available in ebook and print.

Reader Friday – Science or Perception

Posted on by

Science is “the systematic study of the structure and behavior of the physical and natural world through observation, experimentation, and the testing of theories against the evidence obtained.” (Oxford Languages) – my italics

Perception is “a way of regarding, understanding, or interpreting something; a mental impression.” (Oxford Languages) – basically, the way we see the facts from our perspective

Note that “perception” is our view of the facts at a given moment. Science is an ongoing testing of the “facts” that is continuously changing the “facts.”

There has been an ongoing conflict between perception and science since humans began declaring their perception as science. Ex. “The earth is flat.” Or, “the sun rotates around the earth.”

And that conflict continues today, often with someone’s bias inserted into the perception:

  • A Chinese “weather balloon” gently drifting across the U.S. … and making figures-of-eight over high security military sites
  • Installation of “climate-friendly” wind turbines off the east coast … and whales washing up on the beach
  • The “facts” about the Covid virus, immunizations, and preventative measures that were presented to the public … and later, in the light of science, were shown to be more someone’s perception or bias
  • Developing AI technology (see Debbie’s post from last week) and its “promise” of benefits … when it is already being used for nefarious purposes

Note that all these examples are filled with conflict and are ripe with opportunity for insertion into our stories.

So, your assignment, should you choose to accept it:

  1. What examples of fact vs. fiction (science vs. perception) have you used in your stories, or enjoyed in stories by others?
  2. What other examples of science vs. perception can you think of that might be useful for conflict in a story?

~~~

 

 

A powerful wizard uses Covid “jabs” to spread his DNA and achieve immortality.

Available on Amazon. Currently priced at $0.99.

Romans, Horse Asses, US Railroads, Space Shuttles, and Common Writing Paper

Posted on by

Kill Zoners — Bear with me. I promise this headline will make sense. I belong to a police veteran group where this piece was recently posted. Yes, I’m plagiarizing sharing it here because I can’t say it better in my own writing. So please read away, digest the logic or humor, and be sure to comment.

*   *   *

The United States standard railroad gauge (distance between the inside flanges of the rails) is 4 feet, 8.5 inches or 56 ½ inches wide. That’s an exceedingly odd number.

Why was that gauge used? Well, because that’s the way they built them in England, and English engineers designed the first US railroads.

Why did the English build them like that? Because the first rail lines were built by the same people who built the wagon tramways, and that’s the gauge they used.

So, why did ‘they’ use that gauge then? Because the people who built the tramways used the same jigs and tools that they had used for building wagons, which used that same wheel spacing.

Why did the wagons have that particularly odd wheel spacing? Well, if they tried to use any other spacing, the wagon wheels would break more often on some of the old, long-distance roads in England. You see, that’s the spacing of the long-established wheel ruts.

So, who built those old, rutted roads? Imperial Rome built the first long distance roads in Europe (including England) for their legions. Those roads have been used ever since.

And what about the ruts in the roads? Roman war chariots formed the initial ruts, which everyone else had to match or run the risk of destroying their wagon wheels. Since the chariots were made for Imperial Rome, they were alike in the matter of wheel spacing.

Therefore, the United States standard railroad gauge of 4 feet, 8.5 inches, or 56 ½ inches wide, is derived from the original specifications for an Imperial Roman war chariot.

Bureaucracies live forever.

So, the next time you’re handed a specification/procedure/process and wonder What horse’s ass came up with this? you may be exactly right.

For perfect balance, Imperial Roman army chariots were made just wide enough to accommodate the outside width of the rear ends of two harnessed and pulling war horses. (Two horse asses wide.)

Now, here’s the twist to the story.

When you saw a United States Space Shuttle sitting on its launch pad in Florida, you noted the two big booster rockets attached to the sides of the main fuel tank. Those were solid rocket boosters, or SRBs.

The SRBs were made by Thiokol at their factory in Utah. The engineers who designed the SRBs would have preferred to make them a bit fatter, but the SRBs had to be shipped by train from the factory to the Florida launch site.

The railroad line from the Utah factory happened to run through a tunnel in the mountains, and the SRBs had to fit through that tunnel. The tunnel is slightly wider than the railroad track, and the railroad track, as you now know, is as wide as two horse behinds.

So, a major Space Shuttle design feature, of what was arguably the world’s most advanced transportation system, was determined over two thousand years ago by the width of horse asses.

And you thought being a horse’s ass wasn’t important?

*   *   *

Kill Zoners — This chariot-becoming-shuttle story makes sense to me, but what doesn’t make sense (in a completely unrelated way) is why the common paper size we writers use is 8 ½ by 11 inches. Can anyone explain the reason or logic of this? (Wikipedia, Google, Quora, and/or ChatGPT cut ‘n pastes not allowed.) BTW, debunk the horse backside story if you’d like, but remember this is a writers’ site where girls just wanna have fun.

The Other Side of Newsletters

Posted on by

By John Gilstrap

Two days ago, on May 1, our own Sue Coletta posted an outstanding article here about newsletters, with the promise of more to come. As I read her piece, I found myself dealing with a low grade sense of anxiety–not because I disagreed with her, but rather because I think everything she said was exactly right.

I’ve stated here before that social media in general is my Achilles’ heel. I deeply don’t understand Twitter, which seems bloated and toxic, and I don’t photograph nearly enough of my life to drive my Instagram account. My social media safe space is my Facebook author page, where I’ll post a few times a week with interesting tidbits and photos–leaning heavily into dog pix because Kimber is the cutest creature on the planet. I don’t post book news unless it is timely and new, so that leaves me with the daily chores, pleasures and ironies of life.

I never post anything negative about health or family because I’m aware that I live a very blessed life and people don’t need to add my burdens to their own. I’m in the entertainment business, after all, so I figure it’s best to be, well, entertaining.

My YouTube channel, to which I have not posted in a while, is dedicated to helping writers learn their craft, but I would guess that most of my fans have little interest in becoming writers themselves.

Which brings me to my newsletter, which has over two or three times the number subscribers as my Facebook page has followers. Here’s where I start thinking too much. To me, newsletter articles need to reach a higher bar than social media posts. I’m invading a busy person’s inbox, which is a lot more intrusive than having a post sit passively on Facebook for people to see or ignore as they amble by. I use my newsletter for significant announcements about book launches, signings, appearances, that sort of thing, but they tend to all concentrate around the date. At Christmas, I’ll send out a virtual card with a link to the family Christmas letter, if people want to read it.

I know I should do more, if only because everyone tells me that, but what am I supposed to talk about, beyond the topics mentioned above? Fern Michaels’s website is a wonderful mix of newsy newsletter, recipes, a touch of technology and flowers. I think it’s great, informative, and very Fern Michaels-y. Her books aren’t about blowing stuff up, killing bad guys and saving the world.

I could always write about what interests me, such as guns, politics, gardening and cooking, but those pose challenges. Certainly, politics are a non-starter, and guns fall close enough to that high-voltage wire that I don’t want to submit myself to long screeds and diatribes. As for gardening (at which I suck but am learning) and cooking (at which I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself), neither one of those topics does much to advance my brand.

My lovely bride and I took a trip to Alaska back in February, about which I posted extensively on Facebook, but again, is that worth invading someone’s inbox with a newsletter? Isn’t it self-aggrandizing to show people who may be slogging through their day that I have the time and the wherewithal to go mushing and snowmobiling?

It is in my nature to overthink just about everything, and perhaps that’s what’s happening here. Rest assured, though, that if I had a better idea of what to post (outside the confines of book stuff), I’d be much more active with my newsletter.

First Page Critique: Point
Of View Is A Powerful Tool

Posted on by

By PJ Parrish

Our submission today is designated as a “thriller” so that’s all we know going in. The presumed protag is a 17-year-old young man. This is a rather spare sample, clocking in at just over 300 words and I wish the writer had gone on some more, up to our 400 word limit. But the beginning has promise. Let’s dive in.

WHERE PIECES FALL

Kellen Koufax sensed no pleasure in the stranger’s gaze. The young Middle Eastern woman’s straight-lined lips knotted his stomach the way he felt on Christmas morning eight years ago. No positives came from firmed expressions. Reluctance secreted in hers. The woman broke her pause inside the classroom door at Skyline High School and approached the teacher.

The woman’s blazer bulged at her waist. It identified her as someone seventeen-year-old Kellen preferred not to encounter. Not on his birthday, and not because he had committed any unforgivable crime. He chose to avoid anyone who relied on firearms to further their careers.

The teacher approached and whispered, “Kellen, this lady is from Idaho Falls Police.” Concern and curiosity infected the teacher’s tone. “She asked to speak to you in private.”

Kellen glanced at a Grizzly football teammate, shrugged, and paced to the detective’s squish-squash footfalls from the classroom to the principal’s office. The school’s guidance counselor waited with a uniformed officer. The counselor ushered Kellen and the detective into her adjoining office. The officer followed and posted himself near the door.

The detective motioned Kellen to sit in one of two chairs in front of a small desk. She sat and leaned forward. “My name is Detective Sahar Osman. I work in Idaho Falls Police Department’s Crimes Against Person’s Unit. Officers responded to a fire this morning at Sandy Downs. I’m sorry to have to tell you your father and mother did not survive.”

Kellen bowed his head. The detective’s words burst into the whoosh of red-orange flames sucking oxygen from the air while they lashed his parents who struggled to inhale their final breaths and flailed arms to beat off the flames. He flinched when a hand touched his left shoulder from behind. It was the only part of his body to sense warmth besides the tears on his cheeks. Everything else stiffened and ached as if the detective’s statement sealed him in cryonic suspension.

_________________________________

There are some good things going on here. We definitely have a disturbance in the norm — what can be worse than being called out of class to hear your parents have died in a fire? Too often, writers feel they must first world-build a “normal” day in order to make the disturbance, when it comes, feel more dreadful. I used to think this was the way to go early in my writing career. But I learned to make waves first and then explain later what was left behind in the wake. So kudos, writer, for not falling into that trap.

Other things that are good: We know who we are following, the protag’s gender, how old he is, and where we are (a real high school in Idaho Falls…I looked it up). You’d be surprised how many writers leave out this basic info.

Given the shortness of the scene, we don’t have much time to get to know Kellen or establish empathy with him. I’m sure that will come later. I wish the writer had taken the care and time to slip in a few telling details about Kellen. How do you do this? Maybe he nervously fiddles with a brand new class ring (which tells us he is about to graduate). Maybe he exchanges a nervous glance with someone specific before he leaves. (which tells us he has a good friend or even a girlfriend). Or maybe everyone stares at him weirdly or even laughs (which, in his reaction, tells us he’s a loner).  I mention this because of this line:

The woman’s straight-lined lips knotted his stomach the way he felt on Christmas morning eight years ago. No positives came from firmed expressions.

Someone happened to Kellen when he was seven that must have scarred him to the point that this stranger’s expression made his stomach knot again. This is good! This is a tease of backstory! I found it the most interesting thing in the whole submission. This opening needs a few more dabs of this kind of intrigue. The TELLING DETAIL is so important. These imprint on the reader’s mind, providing flesh on your character’s bones, a hint of intrigue and the promise of more to come. Slow down in your writing, dear writer, and look for opportunities to provide this.

Also, this is his birthday! So important for someone so young. At 17, you’re on the cusp of manhood. Kellen surely feels this. And he is being thrust, on this very special day, into a nightmare. Surely some thought crosses his mind about this as he is being ushered out by a policewoman. Again, slow down and let the drama play out more.

Okay, now I have to talk about confusion. There were a few times, I had to stop and think about what I was reading and figure it out. We call these hiccups. You don’t want hiccups in your opening. You want clarity and conveyance of plot.  I was a little confused by the opening paragraph:

Kellen Koufax sensed no pleasure in the stranger’s gaze. The young Middle Eastern woman’s straight-lined lips knotted his stomach the way he felt on Christmas morning eight years ago. No positives came from firmed expressions. Reluctance secreted in hers. The woman broke her pause inside the classroom door at Skyline High School and approached the teacher.

First, he has no reason at this point to know the policewoman is there for him. That info comes later from the teacher. UNLESS…you make a point of the teacher looking directly at him first and then the detective does. Only then would he feel targeted.

“Young Middle Eastern woman” is also confusing. Coming in the second line of the book, I hiccupped and thought we were in the Mideast somewhere. And I don’t know how Kellen can realistically pinpoint her ethnicity at a glance. Unless she’s wearing a head scarf? (Yes, women cops wear them). What’s the point of even bringing this up?

The second graph has issues as well.

The woman’s blazer bulged at her waist. It identified her as someone seventeen-year-old Kellen preferred not to encounter. Not on his birthday, and not because he had committed any unforgivable crime. He chose to avoid anyone who relied on firearms to further their careers.

The woman’s blazer does not “identify her as someone Kellen preferred not to encounter.”  The gun, which is hidden, does. Detectives wear guns on their belts, and badges. Why be coy? It’s more interesting that he sees them. And that the detective keeps staring at him!

What’s going on in the class right now? Wouldn’t there be a low hum of curiosity? Wouldn’t heads be craning toward him by now? Given our gruesome times, a cop showing up in a classroom is not a good thing for anyone. Again, you’re missing chances to up the drama and tension in your scene by moving through it too fast.

Next graph:

Kellen glanced at a Grizzly football teammate, shrugged, and paced to the detective’s squish-squash footfalls from the classroom to the principal’s office. The school’s guidance counselor waited with a uniformed officer. The counselor ushered Kellen and the detective into her adjoining office. The officer followed and posted himself near the door.

So Kellen plays football? I almost missed that detail because the wording “glanced at a Grizzly football teammate” is so awkwardly phrased. Maybe something like:

Kellen looked over at Ted. His friend’s eyes were wide with questions, Kellen looked down at his teammate’s sweatshirt, focusing on the logo of the bear print until the word GRIZZ was just a blue blur.

Personalize! Be specific. Connect. (I looked up Skyline HS, home of the Grizz) Make us feel what Kellen is feeling right now. All we get is a shrug? This, after what you told us about a knot in the stomach? I recognize teen boys can be laconic. But again, I think you’re missing a chance to inject drama.

Next graph:

The detective motioned Kellen to sit in one of two chairs in front of a small desk. She sat and leaned forward. “My name is Detective Sahar Osman. I work in Idaho Falls Police Department’s Crimes Against Person’s  Persons Unit. Officers responded to a fire this morning at Sandy Downs. I’m sorry to have to tell you your father and mother did not survive.”

Again, I have to advise the writer to slow down. Because here’s another missed opportunity to add tension. Split the detective’s dialogue into parts and let Kellen react to each new piece of info. I think she would be less blunt, for starters. And second, it gives you a beat — a second or two for Kellen to react and readers to learn something more. There’s no reason to race through this crucial scene. Sandy Downs is a real place, a equestrian arena and popular concert site. Maybe something like this:

“My name is Detective Shar Osman. I work in Idaho Falls Police Department’s Crimes Against Persons Unit.”

Kellen stared at her, not understanding. Crimes against persons?

“Our officers responded to a fire this morning at Sandy Downs,” she went on.

Sandy Downs? The horse place, the arena where they hold rodeos? I was there once, That’s where Ted and I went and saw The Cure. It burned down?

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your parents were involved and did not survive.”

One aside: Most average people (outside us crime dogs) don’t know “crimes against persons” is another name for homicide et al.  Why is a homicide detective going to a school when the crime here is arson? Since the fire was “this morning” it would not realistically be ruled homicide yet. At some point very soon this has to be addressed.

Now, you are at a critical point. Kellen’s reaction is everything here. And depending on your plot, you have to be clear on his emotions. Did his parents work there? If not, why were they there in the middle of a school day? If they DID have good reason to be there, THAT is where his thoughts go first. If they DIDN’T, then his reaction is completely different.

And I think, at 17, he’d almost not understand what she’s saying: “Did not survive” is a cop’s way of couching bad news. I can imagine him thinking:

Did not survive. Did not survive what? Wait….a fire. There was a fire. Does she mean they’re dead?

Such moments need to be that strange. People, especially kids, process awful news in an almost detached away, like they’re trying to tune in a bad radio station signal. Which leads us to the last paragraph:

Kellen bowed his head. The detective’s words burst into the whoosh of red-orange flames sucking oxygen from the air while they lashed his parents who struggled to inhale their final breaths and flailed arms to beat off the flames. He flinched when a hand touched his left shoulder from behind. It was the only part of his body to sense warmth besides the tears on his cheeks. Everything else stiffened and ached as if the detective’s statement sealed him in cryonic suspension.

I don’t think this works, for the reasons I cited above. You must give words to Kellen’s thoughts. I can buy that dreadful news creates a “whoosh” in the brain. But nothing as articulate and “writerly” as what is in this graph.

The detective’s words burst into the whoosh of red-orange flames sucking oxygen from the air while they lashed his parents who struggled to inhale their final breaths and flailed arms to beat off the flames.

What has happened here, dear writer, is that you have abandoned the view point of a 17 year old boy and lapsed into omnisicient. This is you being writerly, not Kellen feeling and reacting.

Then you need a new graph:

Kellen closed his eyes. He flinched when a hand touched his left shoulder from behind.  It was the only part of his body to sense warmth besides the tears on his cheeks. Everything else stiffened and ached as if the detective’s statement sealed him in cryonic suspension.

I think that last line needs to go. It’s a toke over the line after flames, warmth, stiffening. I doubt a 17 year old teen who’s just gotten such news thinks in terms of “cryonic suspension.”  Again, that is the writer talking, not the character thinking.

I’m not going to red line edit today because I don’t think we need it. I’ve tried to cover the main points and hope the writer takes my critique in the spirit it is intended. This is one person’s opinion, dear writer, and meant only to help you down your path. I like this set-up and would definitely read on.  But you need to get inside this young man’s head more and see this terrible event through his eyes only. Point of view is a potent tool. Put it to work for you more precisely and you’ll add more power to your story.

 

5 Tips to Improve Newsletters – Part I

Posted on by

When I bought back my rights to my Mayhem Series, one of the first things I did was to revamp my newsletters.

So, let’s discuss five tips that improved my newsletters. Hopefully, they’ll work for you, too.

 

  1. Consistency

Readers like to know when they’ll hear from you. Whether you send newsletters weekly, bi-monthly, or monthly, sticking to a schedule improves opens and click rates.

  1. Choose a Theme

The biggest complaint from writers is they don’t know what to put in their newsletters. As a result, so many end up being “Buy my book!” emails. Once I chose a theme, my newsletters became a breeze—even fun—to write.

Base your theme around your genre. If you write in multiple genres, it’s a good idea to segregate your list into genre groups. For example, a newsletter about fictional characters might not go over well for your nonfiction fans.

Because I write Native American metaphysical thrillers exclusively now, I share fascinating animal facts and tidbits about the Natural World. Once I based my newsletters around a theme, my opens and click-through rates improved tenfold. And it can work for you, too!

Open Rate

An email open rate is the percentage of subscribers who open a specific newsletter. Tracking open rates will give you a better understanding of how often your audience look forward to your emails, how successful your subject lines are, and what type of content is the most effective. Most email providers supply open rates for you.

A good email open rate falls between 17-28%. The average is 21.5% across all industries, according to the Email Marketing Benchmarks Report of 2022. For Media, Entertainment, Publishing, the average is 23.9%.

Click-Through Rate (CTR)

A CTR is the measurement of how many subscribers clicked on a hyperlink, call-to-action prompt (CTA), or image within your newsletter. The main goal for you is to measure engagement. By tracking click-through rates, you can gauge how your audience responds to your content. If you’re getting low engagement, it might be time to rethink what you’re sharing. Believe it or not, a good CTR is 2.9% for Media, Entertainment, Publishing.

Click-to-Open Rate (CTOR)

Most authors don’t pay enough attention to CTORs. It’s a mistake to ignore this valuable information. A click-to-open rate measures the effectiveness of your content. Because it’s based on the number of unique opens, CTOR is a good indicator of how interesting your content is to your subscribers. If your links, layout, copy, and overall content are interesting, your readers will want to click through to learn more.

Some email providers will show you the CTOR, some will not. To measure your CTOR, divide the number of unique clicks by the number of unique opens. For example, 100 clicks divided by 180 opens = 55%. As with all the metrics listed above, the CTOR fluctuates per campaign. A good CTOR for our industry is 12.4%.

  1. Write to One Reader, Not Thousands

Adopting the right mindset makes all the difference. If you try to please everyone, your newsletter will come across as cold and impersonal. It’s also stressful. My #1 tip is to write to your ideal reader only. If some subscribers don’t enjoy your newsletter, they don’t belong on your list. Chances are, they won’t buy your books, either. That is, if you’ve themed your newsletters to match your genre.

  1. How to Choose an Ideal Reader

Search your beta reader list or ARC team or readers who reply to every newsletter. One name should rise to the top. Or, better yet, use the same ideal reader you write for—you do have someone in mind while writing, right?—and craft each newsletter as a conversation between you and them. Not only will your newsletter sound sincere, but everyone who reads it will feel like you’re writing to them. It’ll read like a warm hug to a friend.

  1. Give More Than You Take

By sharing interesting tidbits, recipes, oddities from a certain era (whatever theme you choose), you are training your subscribers to click. Most of the time, you aren’t asking for them to buy anything. For example, in one of my newsletters I shared fascinating facts about eagles. If they clicked the prompt, it led to a live feed of an eagle’s nest. See what I’m saying? I rewarded those who clicked with the chance to watch mother and father eagles care for their young.

By training your subscribers to click links in your newsletters, when you release a new book, they’ll be more likely to click again.

In my next post (Part II), we’ll dig into the ins and outs of designing the layout of your newsletter, and why it’s important. If there’s still room, I’ll include how to set up an onboarding sequence. If not, there will be a Part III. 🙂 Sound good?

Do you write newsletters? What’s your theme? What’s your #1 tip? If you’re a reader, what type of newsletters are your favorite?

The Heroic Vision

Posted on by

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

Publicity shot from The Magnificent Seven (1960)

There are two kinds of heroes.

One is the man or woman who responds to an immediate crisis, and in rising to the occasion discovers who they really are. This used to be called “the testing of one’s mettle.” It’s the classic Hero’s Journey wherein a character arcs to a transformation.

The second kind of hero responds to a crisis because of a moral vision. The arc is not so much one of transformation but of vindication.

The first hero represents the triumph of an individual, which inspires the community.

The second represents the triumph of a vision, which inspires and strengthens the community. (Where there is no vision, the people perish. – Proverbs 29:18).

Many stories—both fictional and real life—involve the immediate response to a crisis. Think of Sully Sullenberger, who saved an entire plane of passengers by landing his suddenly incapacitated ship on the Hudson River.

Then there are examples of the heroic vision. I would define this as a view of life which combines duty, honor, and courage. Every civilization that manages to survive has told stories of heroic vision. Some of the best movies ever made have it.

One of my favorites is Sergeant York (1941) starring Gary Cooper in an Oscar-winning role. It’s the true story of Alvin C. York, a poor boy from the Tennessee hills who had to hunt to help his family eat, and in the process became a dead shot with a rifle. Drafted during World War I, he sought an exemption based on his Christian beliefs, but was later became persuaded that he had a duty to save lives in a just war. During a battle in France he used his rifle skills to take out a German machine gun nest that was mowing down American soldiers. Single handed he killed 25 of the enemy, and captured 132 more. For this he was awarded the Congressional Medal of —wait for it—Honor.

Another favorite is The Magnificent Seven (1960), the classic Western starring Yul Brynner, Steve McQueen and Eli Wallach. A re-vision of Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai, it’s the story of a group of gunfighters hired by a poor, Mexican village to save them from the plundering of a bandit gang.

At first, the seven take the job because the age of the gunfighter is over, and there’s nothing but menial jobs for them in town. But as they get to know the villagers, the heroic vision begins to take hold. It’s seven against forty, but they stay and fight because it’s the right fight. It is reminiscent of last stands like the Spartans at Thermopylae, and the Jews of the Warsaw ghetto.

The movie has terrific dialogue, too. Like in the scene where Calvera (Wallach), the leader of the bandits, first encounters the gunfighters. He rides in with his men and finds Chris (Brynner), Vin (McQueen) and Britt (James Coburn) waiting for him. Calvera, not looking overly concerned, remarks on the new walls. “They won’t keep me out,” he says.

“They were built to keep you in,” says Chris.

Calvera mulls it over, and offers to make the seven equal partners. When asked about the poor villagers, Calvera answers with a vision (decidedly unheroic) of his own. He says to Chris, “I leave it to you. Can men of our profession worry about things like that? It may even be sacrilegious. If God didn’t want them sheared he would not have made them sheep.”

Oh heck, it’s better if you watch it:

So in your work, consider giving your Lead characters a heroic vision. Ask yourself some questions:

  • What do they believe about duty, honor, and courage?
  • Who or what would they die for?
  • What will their stand cost them? (A good source of inner conflict)

And flesh out your villain with a vision of his own. Why does he think he’s justified? Calvera has to feed his men, and these villagers were born to be sheep. The clash of visions makes the denouement all the more satisfying. (If you’d like to see how the seven answer Calvera, you can watch the rest of the scene here.)

Comments welcome.

In The Air Around Us

Posted on by

When I finished my talk to a large civic group last month and took questions, a lady’s hand shot up. “Where do you get your ideas?”

I shrugged. “They’re everywhere. Willie Nelson once said that songs are just floating in the air and all we have to do was reach up and grab them. It’s the same for me when I’m writing. They come from nowhere, and everywhere.”

I’d been discussing my most recent upcoming release and a gentleman on the front row spoke up. “So did your idea for Hard Country come from the news or is it totally from your imagination?”

The question was one of those softballs I love. “It’s real, in a sense. A few years ago, we had a ranch in Oklahoma that should have been heaven, and it was in most cases, but our house was across a gravel road, three hundred yards from a ‘buy house’. Cars ran the roads at all hours of the day and night, coming and going to buy drugs.

“during the same period of time, meth-heads broke into our place more than once, kicking in the door and ransacking the house. I got pretty good at repairing door frames and locks, that did little good. Then they stole my brother-in-law’s truck and we learned that the first place the thieves drove it to that night was buy house to trade some of our stolen items for drugs. The law was little help, because more than one member of that small-town sheriff’s department were related to the dealers, so they tended to look the other way.

“It took an unconnected DPS officer to arrest one of the criminals before they launched an investigation. It did little good, and as far as I know, they were still selling drugs out of the old trailer house today. That idea eventually became the basis for the first Tucker Snow novel that will release August 1, 2023.”

Another hand. “So do you have any ideas for another book?”

“I have dozens, and some of them will never be written by me.”

“Name one.”

“Are you a writer looking for ideas?”

The audience laughed and the lady answered. “No, I just like to hear what writers are thinking.”

“When you’re talking to a thriller or mystery writer, they’re most likely thinking of interesting ways to kill you.” I paused for effect and she gave a nervous laugh that the others enjoyed. “But here’s one you might be interested in, because I believe my grandson has a paranormal connection some people won’t believe…”

And that gave me the idea for today’s post. Consider this proposal for your consideration.

My two-year-old grandson, Caden, piqued my interest in a possible book when he could barely talk. Sunday afternoons are usually pure chaos at our house as both daughters and their families come over to what we call here in Texas, supper. All five kids always want to get in the pool, and that’s where our story starts.

That weekend the Bride bought floats and several water toys, including a package of old-fashioned water guns. The older kids immediately filled them from the pool and commenced to spirting each other and any unwary adult who might wander past. I was one of the first victims, and in response, I took up arms and looked for a target, immediately ruling out the Bride.

Caden saw me and that’s when things got weird. This kid who only watched Bubble Guppies and Paw Patrol grabbed one of the water pistols and squeezed the trigger. His eyes lit up when the stream of water shot out, and the next thing I knew he held the plastic gun at High Ready, looking for a target.

He saw me and I swear this is true, advanced using sophisticated footwork, as if trained by a SWAT team. His form was perfect, and if you want to see an example, find any video of a trained soldier or law enforcement officer moving up in a dangerous situation. He was letter perfect and he shot me several times before ducking out of sight with his back against a wide support pillar under our huge patio cover.

The Bride saw him holding the pistol against his chest, still at High Ready, as I proceeded to find an angle on him. That twenty-four-month-old moved with me, keeping the column between us, then turned the corner to fire again before procceding, again, looking like he’d spent years in the military, or as a law enforcement officer.

Let me make this clear, this kid performed as a trained, seasoned warrior and at that age, had never seen anything like it on TV. Neither of his parents watched movies when the kids were up, because his dad works most nights and is interested in nothing but sports. Good or bad, that son-in-law who only had a vague notion of who John Wayne was, cared nothing for war or cop movies or series.

That wasn’t all. When we wrestled, Caden had moves. He never retreats, but attacks. If one of us played chase with him, he used one hand to slap things in our path to slow us down. If you’ve ever read Lee Child’s Jack Reacher series, Lee describes his protagonist when he was a child. He could have been describing Caden.

When he was threer, he loved to play policeman, and wanted to put us in cuffs.

The Bride’s “office” became a jail.

That made us think he’d been on this earth before. I started thinking about reincarnation and remembered two well-researched events involving a boy and girl who are prime examples of this phenomenon.

James Leninger began to experience nightmares at the age of two. When his parents woke him up, they report he kept saying repeating the same story. “He developed a habit of saying “airplane crash on fire,” and slamming his toy planes nose first into the family’s coffee table. When they woke him from those bad dreams, he often shouted, “Little man can’t get out!” (Jim B. Tucker, M.D. University of Virginia.)

He repeated this behavior over and over, producing dozens of scratches and dents on the table and began to describe being an American pilot in WWII who was killed when his plane was shot down by the Japanese during the battle of Iwo Jima. He gave details that included the name of an American aircraft carrier, the Natoma, the first and last name of a friend who was on the ship with him, and a location and other specifics about the fatal crash, Somewhere around three years of age, he described how a Corsair plane reacted upon takeoff, always pulling to the left, and that particular war plane’s tires and tendencies for them wear out.

His parents eventually discovered a close correspondence between James’ statements and the death of a World War II pilot named Jack Larson. They eventually tracked Jack down and the veteran remembered Huston who was a pilot and friend. He described how Huston’s plane hit by Japanese gunfire and he saw the explosion when on the plane’s nose. Jack confirmed they both took off from the aircraft carrier Natoma, and saw Huston’s plane crash in the ocean, reporting that the nose was on fire.

Little James told his parents his last images from that past life was the sky covered by water, and his feet trying to kick the plane’s clear canopy open, and then nothing.

It gives me chills.

They released a book titled, Soul Survivor: The Reincarnation Of A World War II Fighter Pilot.

Here’s one of many interesting studies of their fascinating story: https://med.virginia.edu/perceptual-studies/wp-content/uploads/sites/360/2017/04/REI42-Tucker-James-LeiningerPIIS1550830716000331.pdf

And a detailed, well-researched article: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1209795/Reincarnated-Our-son-World-War-II-pilot-come-life.html

The more I researched that youngster who is now an adult, it reminded me of another account I read way back when I was in college. It revolved around an Indian girl, Shanti Devi, who was born in 1926.

Not long after she learned to speak, Shanti told her parents about a past life in a town neither she nor her parents had ever been to. Small events reminded her of former memories in India, such as foods she enjoyed, or the clothes she used to wear.

As the years passed, Shanti remembered her name in a past life was Lugdi, and she died shortly after delivering a son in 1925. She even added details about labor pains and surgical procedures she endured. She described in detail the shops and streets in town, and though she refused to reveal her husband’s name, the youngster described a man with fair skin, a wart on his left cheek, and wore reading glasses.

At around age ten, an uncle decided to investigate her continuing and detailed claims about a past life in Mathura,75 miles away. Her story panned out, and the man she insisted was her husband existed. They took Shanti there, hiring a driver to follow her directions without question.

She led them directly to her former house. Devi’s father went in first, and in an effort to trip her up, had the man’s relative come forward, telling her it was her former husband. She said no, it was his her “husband’s” brother, but when Pandit Kedarnath Chaube came to the door, she threw her arms around him and wept, shocking everyone. She said he was her husband, and even identified others by name, including children and the child she says she delivered, and other familial relationships. Shani eventually became part of their family and died in 1987.

There are dozens of websites that discuss this story. Here’s one: https://allthatsinteresting.com/shanti-devi

Whether or not you believe these stories or not, or believe in reincarnation, the fact is they are great concepts that can lead to interesting books in hundreds of different ways.

Feel free to steal these ideas because I don’t need ‘em. They are flying in the air all around us.

 

Reader Friday: What Writing is Like

Posted on by

James Salter, Wikimedia Commons

“In the end, writing is like a prison, an island from which you will never be released but which is a kind of paradise: the solitude, the thoughts, the incredible joy of putting into words the essence of what you for the moment understand and with your whole heart want to believe.” – James Salter

What is writing like for you?

True Crime Thursday – Vicious Vishing by Voice Cloning

Posted on by

Photo credit: Jason Rosewell, Unsplash

By Debbie Burke

@burke_writer

Believe half of what you see and none of what you hear.

That saying has been attributed to sources like Benjamin Franklin and Edgar Allen Poe. It’s appeared in song lyrics like Leon Haywood’s “Believe Half of What You See (and None of What You Hear)” and the third verse of the immortal Marvin Gaye classic, “I Heard It Through The Grapevine.”

Today, those wise words are even truer because of Voice Cloning, a new tool created by Artificial Intelligence (AI) for the cyber-scammer’s toolkit.

Phishing and Vishing are scams where criminals contact victims, often posing as a bank, reputable business, government agency, hospital, law enforcement, or other entity in order to gain access to your personal and/or financial information.

Phishing contacts victims by email, urging you to open an infected attachment or click on a link that downloads malware. Phishing attacks are generally sophisticated and massive in scale, targeting thousands of businesses and individuals at a time using automation.

Reportedly 74% of organizations in the US have been successfully targeted by phishing attacks.

Vishing (AKA voice phishing) is when a scammer contacts the victim by phone, impersonating a law officer, banker, charity, etc. who convinces you to verbally share your confidential information. The caller ID is spoofed, making the call appear to come from a legitimate source like a bank, Social Security Administration, credit card company, etc.

Vishing requires a scammer to contact one victim at a time, to persuade them to give up sensitive personal and financial information on the phone, making it less efficient than phishing.

However, vishing can still be devastatingly effective, especially now thanks to Voice Cloning. AI can take a sample of someone’s voice and create speech that’s impossible to tell from the real person.

Voice cloning is a boon for scams like Family Emergency, Friend Stranded Overseas, or Grandchild in Trouble. Scammers harvest voice samples of your loved one from YouTube, TikTok, and other online sources.

They can also call the person to record their voice or even use their outgoing voicemail message.

In a few seconds, criminals can download enough of a person’s voice to create a convincing imitation.

Now when “Johnny” calls Grandma saying he was in a car accident and needs bail money, the voice is identical to the real Johnny. That triggers panic, and the victim is more likely to act without thinking. And lose money in the process.

“Johnny” will ask for gift cards, cryptocurrency, or want you to wire money. Once you do, the funds are instantly transferred to the scammer and the transaction can’t be reversed.

Your money is gone.

How do you protect yourself against a voice that sounds exactly like your loved one?

The FTC advises:

“Don’t trust the voice. Call the person who supposedly contacted you and verify the story. Use a phone number you know is theirs. If you can’t reach your loved one, try to get in touch with them through another family member or their friends.”

A simple low-tech safeguard is to have a password or code that only you and your family knows. If something about a call with a loved one sounds suspicious, ask them for the password.

But be careful how you select a code. Criminals often scour social media accounts for clues to possible passwords.

If you post a photo of “my dog Spot” and choose that for your password, it could be guessed.

Speaking of Spot, to wrap up this post on a light note, does anyone remember the old Cal Worthington TV commercials that always featured “My Dog Spot”?

The last Worthington family car dealership was sold in February, 2023. End of an era but Cal’s jingle lives on.

~~~

TKZers: Has someone you know been taken in by voice cloning?

Can you think of ways to use Voice Cloning in mystery, suspense, or thriller fiction?

~~~

 

Investigator Tawny Lindholm plunges into an alternate reality where video is fake but death is real.

Please check out my new thriller Deep Fake Double Down.