Tag Archives: James Scott Bell

Beware of Dog and Other Things to Remember

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Beware of Dog and Other Things to Remember
Terry Odell

black and white dog with its face poking out underneath a blue fence with peeling paint and a sign saying Beware of Dog

Image by Kev from Pixabay

People like dogs. Readers like dogs. So, when I was starting my current wip, without much conscious thought, this appeared in the first 400 words of the manuscript:

“Evvie snatched the envelope from Roger’s hand, wrestled the cart to the door, and not waiting for him to offer to help, pushed the cart—none too gently—against the door to open it. She maneuvered the cart, fighting the universally requisite out-of-alignment-wheel, down the sidewalk to her SUV. After arranging her photos on the towels she kept in the back for Baxter, not concerned about his sheds of black dog hair, she slammed the hatch. She left the cart next to the nearby red maple—let Roger come get it—and drove home.

As she entered the kitchen of her little house near downtown Colorado Springs, Baxter greeted her. Bouncing, shimmying, his stump of a tail wagging as if she’d been gone a month, not thirty minutes.”

Okay, so Evvie has a dog. Dog loving readers will connect.

Then what? First, this isn’t a cozy, and these dogs don’t talk or have a POV role. The book is a romantic suspense, which means it’ll fall into the romance category. That means a hero. And they have to meet. Per reader expectations, very soon. Being a good dog parent, Evvie takes Baxter for a walk, and they end up at the neighborhood dog park. Enter the expected hero. With his dog, a golden retriever named Sammy.

All should be good. Hero and heroine have a connection. Their dogs. Although they’re not in a relationship at this point (Chapter 2), the hero has a dog, he likes dogs, and that scores points with Evvie.

Now, here’s the problem. It’s a romantic suspense, which means Bad Stuff Has to Happen. Whether they’re working independently or together, if they go anywhere, they (meaning me) can’t forget about the dog.

I’ve read books where a dog was introduced, and then hardly shows up on the page again. This is unacceptable. You put a living, breathing being on the page, and it has needs. Food. Water. Walks. And you have to take this into account in Every Single Scene. How much time has elapsed since the last scene? Where were the dogs?

In my writing, I try to keep time moving forward in real time, more or less. If I jump ahead, I make sure that’s noted. Here, I give readers credit for assuming that if it’s much later in the day, or the next day, or three days later, that the characters have gone about the normal day-to-day events, and that the dogs have as well.

Now, if I’m with my characters, then all those normal day-to-day events need to be covered somehow. Not a minute-by-minute, but at least a mention to readers can keep track of elapsed time. “After lunch” is good enough unless something important happens that moves the plot forward.

Since my characters are in the ‘getting to know each other’ stage, they need to be together. I don’t know about you, but back in my day, that was usually along the lines of dinner and a movie. Movies don’t make for good page time, but as long as some plot advancing happens, I have no trouble showing them in an eatery, where they’ll interact with servers—because how else will their food appear?—ordering, eating, etc., along with discussing those plot advancing topics.

But now I have to remember that they’ve got dogs at home. Did I skip the time where they were tending to them? It’s okay to tell rather than show everything—“After feeding and walking the dog…” but you put them on the page, so you can’t neglect them.

Likewise, if your characters have children, or are caring for an elderly parent, you can’t pop them in and out when you think of it. They’re part of the story and can’t be neglected.

JSB talks about the shadow story to keep track of other characters, especially the villain. Most of my books don’t have the kind of villains that more traditional “murder mysteries” have, so any tracking of bad guys tends to be minimal for me. However, secondary characters both human and otherwise, require tracking.

So, when the Real Trouble starts and my characters have to leave town in a hurry, they (meaning me) have dogs to deal with. Kennel them? Do they have dog sitters? Or do the dogs have to come along?

A sticky note on my computer saying “Don’t forget the dogs!” is the equivalent of my dog coming into my office and staring at me when one of her daily routine boxes needs to be checked.

(Side note, along similar lines. If you say a character needs to pee, I want to see that they’ve had a chance to hit a restroom. I’ve seen authors ignore this step, too. Drives me nuts.)

Basic “rule.” If you mention anything, it becomes a thread that has to be followed. Don’t leave readers hanging. Or thinking your characters are less than likeable because they’re not taking care of the dogs (or people) they’re responsible for.

What about you, TKZers? Do you avoid pets because of the complications they throw into the work? If your characters have pets (or other humans they’re responsible for), how do you deal with the requisite “care and feeding”?

Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

Deadly Ambitions
Peace in Mapleton doesn’t last. Police Chief Gordon Hepler is already juggling a bitter ex-mayoral candidate who refuses to accept election results and a new council member determined to cut police department’s funding.
Meanwhile, Angie’s long-delayed diner remodel uncovers an old journal, sparking her curiosity about the girl who wrote it. But as she digs for answers, is she uncovering more than she bargained for?
Now, Gordon must untangle political maneuvering, personal grudges, and hidden agendas before danger closes in on the people he loves most.
Deadly Ambitions delivers small-town intrigue, political tension, and page-turning suspense rooted in both history and today’s ambitions.

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

Yet More Short Story Words of Wisdom

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Despite all the changes in publishing, new short stories are still appearing in print and digitally. Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen magazines continue to publish short stories, as do various anthologies, and of course they are also an option for indie authors.

Short stories can also be a proven way to level up your writing, helping you improve existing skills and forge new ones in just a few thousand words. Typically much less writing time is at stake with short stories versus novels, and even if your latest story doesn’t work, it can teach you something in the process.

Today’s Words of Wisdom reaches into the archives for insights on writing short fiction from posts by James Scott Bell, Reavis Wortham, and John Gilstrap.

As you know, we’ve been celebrating the release of Fresh Kills here on TKZ. It’s been a pleasure working with my blogmates, pros all, to bring you these new stories, at an attractive price. Look for Fresh Kills at amazon, scribd or smashwords.

My contribution to the anthology is “Laughing Matters,” a title that has more than one meaning, as you’ll find out. And that’s sort of what the best short stories do; they work on at least a couple of levels.

Certainly, the literary short story is like that. In college I got to take a writing workshop with Raymond Carver, and that’s what his stories are famous for. They have something going on up top, on the surface, but when you finish you realize there’s a rich layer underneath that you’ve missed (and I have to confess, I usually did, and would have to re-read each one a couple of times).

In the suspense or mystery category, you need to deliver a story that has a surprise in it somewhere, to keep the reader guessing. Jeffery Deaver has written two volumes of such tales in his Twisted series, and even challenges the reader to try to outguess him. It’s cool when it works, but it’s hard to do. Which is why this kind of story is every bit as challenging as the literary sort.

The germ of “Laughing Matters” came one day when I was thinking about all the standup comics in LA who never make it. I must have just seen some clip of a comedian doing post-Seinfeld observational humor (one of thousands) and just thought, this is dull. This is derivative. This guy’s not going to go very far.

Which reminded me of a time when I was living and acting in New York, and went to a comedy club for “open mike.” There were some funny guys, and then there was this one kid who was obviously onstage for the first time. The sort whose grandmother must have told him, “Sonny, you are so funny! You should go tell your jokes on television!”

Anyway, the kid comes out, he’s nervous, and tells a joke. It fell to the ground with a thud that echoed through the club. He got rattled. And you know what happens when you get rattled in front of the 11 p.m. crowd in New York City on open mike night? It was brutal. The kid made it through maybe two more jokes, neither of which worked, and then froze. As the crowd piled on with jeers and snorts, he stood there, choking the mike stand, unable to move or speak.

The emcee, noting what was going on, jumped in from the wings with his big smile, clapping his hands, shouting “Let’s hear it for _____ !” and then took the guy’s arm and guided him off the stage.

There must have been public hangings easier to watch.

So all of that came to me as I wrote the opening lines:

He died. 

Pete Harvey, “The Harv” as he billed himself, just flat out died in front of the 11 p.m. crowd at the Comedy Zone. 

Then I have Pete sitting at the bar afterward, drowning his sorrows, when a most interesting gent sits down next to him. And the story came to me in a flash, twists and all. This is, I’d wager, how the best short stories usually appear. But then you write, re-write and polish, and hopefully come up with something that works.

I’ve reclaimed my love of the short story, and have decided to keep writing them. Maybe I’ll put out my own collection sometime. It’s nice to have a market for stories again. Because short stories matter, it seems to me. A good story can deliver a hugely satisfying reading experience in small span of time.

FWIW, here are some of my favorite short stories, based on the wallop I felt at the end:

“Hills Like White Elephants,” Ernest Hemingway

“Soldier’s Home,” Ernest Hemingway

“The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze,” William Saroyan

“A Word to Scoffers,” William Saroyan

“A Perfect Day for Bananafish,” J.D. Salinger

“The End of the Tiger,” John D. MacDonald

“Chapter and Verse,” Jeffery Deaver

James Scott Bell—February 7, 2010

Joe laughed and took a sip of iced tea. “There’s your short story.”

I came home thinking about it, but haven’t yet written it down. But it’s there, perking along until the day I write the first sentence, “The boys finished their Schlitz beers and decided they were going to meet Elvis Presley, come hell or high water,” or something like that.

Those stories come easier than I expected. Maybe it’s because I write mini-stories every week for my newspaper columns in The Paris News, Country World, and now for Saddlebag Dispatches magazine. They come to mind as a single sentence, and then I watched as my fingers type out 950 words in one sitting that will “go to press” the next day. They’re mini-short stories, a snippet of time or experience, in which I give readers a quick glimpse into the view from my own hill.

When we’re working on novels, authors create whole new fictional worlds and can revel in taking their time to describe these worlds and establish character backgrounds and settings. In a short story, we create a can of condensed soup in a sense that, if we wanted to, could sometimes expand into a novel.

I think of them as that tiny world inside a globe, those glass spheres containing a tiny piece of a mythical world. In this case, these miniature scenes don’t always have snow, unless it’s essential to the plot.

Essential to the plot. In short stories, every element, word, character, and bit of dialogue has to be informative, moving the story forward, and must relate to everything else. The logic of the narrative has to be short and concise.

To me, it’s like flipping through the pages of a novel and picking out the necessary bits and pieces to write a book report. A quick read of what could be more, but isn’t.

There’s no room for sweeping descriptions and extensive development. In my view, the author has to know the character’s entire backstory at the outset, and the setting’s history that’s revealed by bits of information dropped in a sentence or two, or as action dialogue tags.

Readers must be swept into these juicy stories with the right words, phrases, and pacing. I suppose it’s like satisfying our need for immediate satisfaction these days. In other words you have about 6,000 words to set up the story arc, very short Acts 1 and 2, before that last couple of pages in which the bombshell drops. In fact, some authors set off that climax bomb in a couple of paragraphs, or even one breathtaking sentence.

Writing short stories is an excellent way to warm up, to refill the creative basket between novels, and to achieve the personal satisfaction of a job well done.

Reavis Wortham—April 12, 2025

 

“All Revved . . .” is, hands down, the darkest story I’ve ever written. You can find it in the recently published anthology, Bat Out Of Hell, edited by Don Bruns, and the story is inspired by the title of one of the songs on the famous Meat Loaf album from the 1970s. The story tells the tale of Ace Spade, an off-duty firefighter and search and rescue operator who’s trying to impress a young lady with his four-wheeling skills in the back woods of West Virginia when things go terribly wrong. After he wrecks his Jeep in the middle of nowhere, the man who they think is there to lend assistance turns out to be a killer who wants to hunt them down and kill them.

As regular Killzoners know, I don’t outline, so even I was surprised by the lengths to which our characters would go to stay alive. I don’t want to give to much away, but let’s just say that in the end, everyone acts in his or her best interests.

As a writer who’s carved a niche for myself by writing stories with moral clarity where good triumphs over evil, it was kind of refreshing to clean the creative pipes with a story where there really are no good guys–just . . . survivors.

Here’s my take on short stories: They’re not really part of an author’s permanent record, in the sense that I think they don’t necessarily reflect their true storytelling sensibilities. In a short story, I can feel free to kill a cat or cavort with vampires. I could even write a romance–even though I don’t think I’m actually capable of doing that.

This is why I cringe when I hear writerly advice given to newbies that they should cut their teeth writing short stories before they take on the burden of a novel. To me, that’s like telling a budding cook that they need to perfect the art of scrambling eggs before they bake Thanksgiving turkey. One has nothing to do with the other–or where the skill cross, the intersection is so tangential as to be meaningless.

It’s equally important to note that novel-writing skills can get you in trouble when crafting a short story. I was fortunate that submission rules asked for an approximate submission length of 8,000 words for Bat Out of Hell. If I’d had to turn in flash fiction, or anything under, say, 3,000 words, I would have considered myself unqualified from the start.

John Gilstrap—August 20, 2025

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There you have it, three more insights on writing short stories and why short fiction matters.

Here are links to the two previous Words of Wisdom on Short stories: https://killzoneblog.com/2024/01/words-of-wisdom-short-stories.html and https://killzoneblog.com/2025/05/more-short-story-words-of-wisdom.html

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Do short stories matter to you, and if so, how?

If you write short fiction, have you ever started from an event you witnessed or experienced personally?

Do you agree with John Gilstrap short stories don’t count on your “permanent record?”

Descriptive Words of Wisdom

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If plot is the muscle of your fiction and structure is the bones, description is the skin. Today’s Words of Wisdom takes a look at the “skin” of your story, presenting two superb, longer excerpts from the TKZ archives dealing with description. The first, by James Scott Bell, gives advice on how to help the reader feel your description. The second, by Terry Odell, looks at how to handle character descriptions in both first person and deep third POVs.

You describe a scene not so the reader can see it, but so the reader can feel it. And the way they feel it is by knowing how the point-of -view character feels about it.

That’s why I’ve developed a seven-step checklist for myself for writing a setting description. It takes a little extra time, but I’ve determined that the stylistic ROI (return on investment) is worth it. Here we go:

  1. How do you want your character to feel about the setting?

This is the crucial first step, and it’s a strategic one. You know where you are in your story and what the character’s attitudes and emotional landscape are. You know what’s going to happen in the scene (note to pantsers: you’ve at least got some idea). Now you’re going to set the scene through the character’s perceptions about it. Your decision can be as simple as: I want my character to feel intimidated. 

Note that you don’t have to name the emotion when you write the scene. In fact, it’s better not to. Let the setting itself create the feeling.

  1. Using the sense of sight, describe the things the character notices.

The items that come into your mind will now be filtered through the POV character. If you want to locate a picture via the Internet, go ahead. But as you look at it, pretend you are the character and try to feel what she feels. Make a list of the items your character doesn’t just see, but notices. This is a crucial distinction. We focus on different things depending on our mood. If you’re unhappy and you walk into a sunny hotel foyer, you might ignore the fancy art and notice instead a droopy plant.

Do a little voice journaling. Have the character talk to you in her own voice, expressing her feelings about what she notices.

  1. Use the other senses to add to the feeling.

Imagine what the character might hear, smell, touch, or even in some cases taste. Make a list.

  1. Look at the items from Steps 2 & 3 and highlight the ones that work best.

That didn’t take long, did it? Five to ten minutes. But if you’re having fun, do more!

  1. Bonus Supercharger: What is the character’s personal interpretation of the place?

Here is a powerful technique used by some of our best writers: when the character offers his own interpretation of the setting, it not only creates a sense of place, but also deepens the character for the reader. Double score!

Here are a couple of examples. This is from Robert B. Parker’s first Spenser novel, The Godwulf Manuscript:

The Homicide Division was third floor rear, with a view of the Fryalator vent from the coffee shop in the alley and the soft perfume of griddle and grease mixing with the indigenous smell of cigar smoke and sweat and something else, maybe generations of scared people. 

Parker uses sight and smell, but also adds generations of scared people. That’s from inside Spenser. That’s his own impression of the place. It tells me as much about Spenser as it does the setting.

Here’s a longer impressionistic description from John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee mystery, The Quick Red Fox. These are McGee’s feelings about San Francisco. (I apologize to all my friends in the City by the Bay!)

And so we drove back to the heart of the city. San Francisco is the most depressing city in America. The comelatelys might not think so. They may be enchanted by the steep streets up Nob and Russian and Telegraph, by the sea mystery of the Bridge over to redwood country on a foggy night, by the urban compartmentalization of Chinese, Spanish, Greek, Japanese, by the smartness of the women and the city’s iron clutch on culture. It might look just fine to the new ones.

But there are too many of us who used to love her. She was like a wild classy kook of a gal, one of those rain-walkers, laughing gray eyes, tousle of dark hair –– sea misty, a little and lively lady, who could laugh at you or with you, and at herself when needs be. A sayer of strange and lovely things. A girl to be in love with, with love like a heady magic.

But she had lost it, boy. She used to give it away, and now she sells it to the tourists. She imitates herself … The things she says now are mechanical and memorized. She overcharges for cynical services.

I think it’s fair to say we know how McGee feels about San Francisco! One of the things that made this series so popular was passages like the above, where McGee riffs on such matters as setting, social mores and current events.

  1. Write the description using active verbs and concrete images.

At this point, let me advise you to overwrite the description. Don’t try to get this perfect the first time through. Feel it first.

  1. Let the scene rest, then edit.

I don’t do heavy edits as I’m writing a first draft. But I do go over my previous day’s work for style and obvious fixes. So come back to your scene the next day, or at least after a time away from it, and keep the following in mind as you edit

James Scott Bell—August 7, 2016

Today’s focus is on dealing with character descriptions in First Person or Deep/Close/Intimate Third (which are almost the same thing.)

I am a deep point of view person. I prefer everything to come from inside the character’s head, However, I will read—and enjoy—books written with a shallower point of view. It all comes down to the way the author handles things.

What are authors trying to convey to their readers with physical character descriptions? The obvious: hair color, length, style to some extent. Eye color. Height, weight, skin color. Moving forward, odds are the character is dressed, so there’s clothing to describe. This is all easier in a distant third POV. Using that POV, you can stop the story for a brief paragraph or two of description, a technique used by John Sandford. In a workshop, he said he didn’t like going into a lot of detail, and listed the basics that he conveys in each book, usually in a single paragraph. Here’s how he describes Lucas Davenport in Chapter 2 of Eyes of Prey, one of his early Davenport books:

Lucas wore a leather bomber jacket over a cashmere sweater, and  khaki slacks and cowboy boots. His dark hair was uncombed and fell forward over a square, hard face, pale with the departing winter. The pallor almost hid the white scar that slashed across his eyebrow and cheek; it became visible only when he clenched his jaw. When he did, it puckered, a groove, whiter on white.

But what if you want to write in deep point of view? Staying inside the character’s head for descriptions is a challenge. Is the following realistic?

Sally rushed down the avenue, her green-and-yellow silk skirt swirling in the breeze, floral chiffon scarf trailing behind her. She adjusted her Oakley sunglasses over her emerald-green eyes. When she reached the door of the office building, she finger combed her short-cropped auburn hair. Her full, red lips curved upward in a smile. 

You’ve covered most of the “I want my readers to see Sally” bases, but be honest. Do you really think of yourself in those terms?

There are other ways to convey that information. First, trust that your reader will be willing to wait for descriptions. Make sure there’s a reason for the character to think about her clothes, or her hair. Maybe she just had a total makeover and isn’t used to the feel of short hair, or the new color, or the makeup job. Catching a glimpse of herself as she passes a mirror and doing a double-take is one of the few times the “Mirror” description could work for me.

Even better, use another character. Some examples of how I’ve handled it:

Here,  an ex-boyfriend has walked into Sarah’s shop and says to her:

“You look like you haven’t slept in a month. And your hair. Why did you cut it?”

“Well, thanks for making my morning.” Sarah fluffed her cropped do-it-yourself haircut. “It’s easier this way.”

Note: there’s no mention of the color. Someone else can bring it up later. Neither of these characters would be thinking of it in the context of the situation.

Later, Sarah is opening the door to Detective Detweiler. We’re still in her POV, but now we can see more about her as well as a description of the detective, and since it’s from her POV, there’s none of that ‘self-assessment’ going on.

She unlocked the door to a tall, lanky man dressed in black denim pants and a gray sweater, gripping several bulky plastic bags. At five-four, Sarah didn’t consider herself exceptionally short, but she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.

Sometimes, there are compromises. My editor knows I don’t like stopping the story, especially at the beginning to describe characters, but she knows readers might want at least a hint.

This was the original opening paragraph I sent to my editor:

Cecily Cooper’s heart pounded as she stood in the judge’s chambers, awaiting the appearance of Grady Fenton, the first subject in her pilot program, Helping Through Horses. She’d spent months working out the details, hustling endorsements, groveling for grant monies, and had done everything in her power to convince her brother, Derek, to give Grady a job at Derek’s Triple-D Ranch.

This was my editor’s comment to that opening: Can you add a personal physical tag for Cecily somewhere on the first page—hair, what she’s wearing? There’s a lot of detail that comes later, but there should be something here to help the reader connect with her right away.

So, I figured there’s a good reason I’m paying her, and added a bit more.

Shuffling footfalls announced Grady’s arrival. Cecily ran her damp palms along her denim skirt, wishing she could have worn jeans so she’d have pockets to hide the way her hands trembled.

My reasoning: I mentioned the skirt was denim, because the fabric helps set the “cowboy” theme for the book, but there’s no more detail than that. Not how many buttons, or whether it’s got lace trim at the hem. Now, let’s say she was wearing Sally’s “girly” skirt. For Cecily, that would be far enough out of character  for her to think about it, BUT, I’d make sure to show the reader her thoughts. Perhaps,

“She hated wearing this stupid yellow-and-green silk skirt—jeans were her thing—but Sabrina told her that skirt would impress the judge.”

See the difference between that and Sally’s self description earlier?

Terry Odell—May 12, 2021

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How do you help the reader feel your scene descriptions? If you write in first person or deep third, any additional advice on character description?

Story Genius

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Story Genius
Terry Odell

There have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but there have been no societies that did not tell stories … Ursula K. Leguin

cover of Story Genius by Lisa Cron.

I recently discovered an overlooked book in my Nook Library. Given I was in that what next after finishing Deadly Ambitions, and waiting for the release date I’d set several months in advance, I opened it.

It’s been a while since I’ve read a craft book, and our own JSB has a passel of them out there, but I’ve heard Lisa Cron speak, and I thought I’d give this one a try.

The book?  How to Use Brain Science to Go Beyond Outlining and Write a Riveting Novel (Before You Waste Three Years Writing 327 Pages That Go Nowhere) by Lisa Cron. With a title like that, who could resist?

Cron quotes Jonathan Gottschall, author of The Storytelling Animal, who says, “Functional MRI (fMRI) studies reveal that when we’re reading a story, our brain activity isn’t that of an observer, but of a participant. … Their brains are instructing their bodies to do all the things they’d do if they were actually under mortal attack.”

Cron then goes on to say that story is the original virtual reality, and it dates back to the days of the cave people. If it had no adaptive significance, it would have disappeared long, long ago.

“It turns out that great feeling you get when you’re lost in a good story, the feeling that can keep you up all night reading, is not ephemeral, it’s not arbitrary, it’s not pleasure for pleasure’s sake, it’s not even. It’s actually the biological lure, the hook that paralyzes you, making the real world vanish so you can experience the world of the story. That feeling is what compels us to drop everything and pay attention.

What actually causes that great feeling is a surge of the neurotransmitter dopamine. It’s a chemical reaction triggered by the intense curiosity that an effective story always instantly generates. It’s your brain’s way of rewarding you for following your curiosity to find out how the story ends, because you just might learn something that you need to know.”

Cron makes the distinction between plot and story.

Plot:

  • Plot is the sequence of external events — the things that happen on the surface. It’s the visible action: what the characters do, what obstacles they face, what events unfold.
  • Plot is the vehicle that delivers the story — but not the story itself.
  • As Cron puts it, plot is “what happens,” but it’s not “what it means.”

Story:

  • The story is the internal journey — the change happening inside the protagonist as a result of those external events.
  • It’s driven by the protagonist’s misbelief — a deeply held but false belief formed in the past that shapes how they see the world.
  • Every event in the plot should force the protagonist to confront and eventually reevaluate that misbelief.

Story is about how the external events (plot) affect the character and how they transform because of them. Readers care because of what those events mean to the character. Readers don’t care about events in isolation.

Cron also goes into great length about the third rail, which she says is the protagonist’s internal struggles. It’s the emotional energy source that gives power and meaning to everything that happens. Without this third rail, the plot just sits there, going nowhere emotionally.

She also stresses the protagonist’s misbelief, which is deeply ingrained, but is a false belief about themselves or the world, formed from a painful past experience. For example, the character has been hurt by someone close to them, so they don’t let anyone else close. They believe that if they stay independent, they’ll never get hurt. For character growth, they need to learn that real safety comes from trust, not isolation.

Cron goes on to offer her process for writing a novel. She had a willing volunteer who had a glimmer of a story idea, and they agreed to work together to turn that idea into a novel, and it was interesting to watch the process unfold.

Am I a follower? Not really. The closest I come is being a planster rather than a panster. Cron shows us her story cards (although you don’t need to have them all written before you start). Do I think I’ll use them? Probably not. I’m too lazy. And, they’re much more complex than scene notes on 3×5 cards (or their digital equivalent.)

What do her cards look like?

The Alpha Point – what is the scene supposed to accomplish?

Subplots – what’s going on with secondary characters?

The top row in the grid is the Plot. What happens, and the consequences.

Below that is the Third Rail – Why it matters, and what does the character realize?

Last is the And So? What happens next, which will lead into the next scene.

Cron points out that these cards don’t have to be written in order, which to my mind is a good thing. To be honest, I’m much more likely to write something like these cards after I’ve written the scene. I prefer playing with the words on the page/screen once I can see what’s happening.

And for this, Cron’s biggest takeaway for me is to keep asking Why? This is something I’ve been doing almost from the beginning of my writing gig, but it’s nice to get a reminder once in a while.

For my current wip, I knew my protagonist preferred to hide behind the lens of her camera, but I needed to know why. For Cron, getting to know characters isn’t filling out a sheet with height, weight, eye and hair color. It’s digging into their pasts, discovered what shaped their lives up to the point of Chapter 1. This becomes the back story that’s trickled in as needed.

My noodling with an opening paragraph doesn’t show any of my delving into Evvie’s  why.

Door chimes tinkled a cheerful greeting as Evvie Gale pushed open the door to the Barrington gallery. “You wanted to see me?” Smiling, she approached the counter, where Roger Barrington glanced up for a nanosecond before ducking his head, averting his gaze. Not the face of someone happy to see her. Not the expression of someone who wanted to extend an invitation to display more of Evie’s photographs.

I’m hoping readers will be interested enough in the ‘whys’ of this opening paragraph to keep reading. And, this is all subject to change as more of the plot and story unfold.

In closing, a lot of what Cron writes has been written before, with different terminology. But a rose by any other name can still help our writing.

Your turn. The floor is open.

Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

Deadly Ambitions
Peace in Mapleton doesn’t last. Police Chief Gordon Hepler is already juggling a bitter ex-mayoral candidate who refuses to accept election results and a new council member determined to cut police department’s funding.
Meanwhile, Angie’s long-delayed diner remodel uncovers an old journal, sparking her curiosity about the girl who wrote it. But as she digs for answers, is she uncovering more than she bargained for?
Now, Gordon must untangle political maneuvering, personal grudges, and hidden agendas before danger closes in on the people he loves most.
Deadly Ambitions delivers small-town intrigue, political tension, and page-turning suspense rooted in both history and today’s ambitions.

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

Amazon’s Latest Rollout – And Controversy

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Amazon’s Latest Rollout – And Controversy
Terry Odell

Amazon is rolling out a new feature, “Ask this Book,” a new feature that allows readers (of Kindle books) to interact with the book. It’s currently available for thousands of English-language books on the Kindle iOS app in the U.S. The feature will be enabled on Kindle devices and Android OS next year.

Forget a character’s name? Can’t remember where a scene took place? Instead of searching, which can be a tedious process, you can now ask the AI genie inside the book and it will answer you, also inside the book. No scrolling, no losing your place.

That seems harmless enough. Helpful, even. But you can also ask more general questions, and AI will answer in a paragraph, and that’s where the controversy begins.

This example is from a Kindlepreneur article written by Kevin J. Duncan, Head of Content. Using the book “Alice in Wonderland,” he asked what was the role of the Cheshire Cat.

The response:

The argument continues that these sorts of answers are the “opinions” of AI. To quote Duncan, “the system is giving you its version of what that thing means. It decides what matters, what doesn’t, what’s central, and what can be glossed over.”

My own test. I don’t own a Kindle, and I buy almost all my books from Barnes & Noble, but I do have a few books from Amazon, admittedly. Most of them are the freebies that come with my Prime membership, with occasional purchases from authors I’m familiar with. I didn’t have access to the Ask This Book feature when I opened a book from my Kindle library to read on my PC, but I did get the feature on my phone.

(Personal note. Reading on my phone is a last resort. I have a Nook tablet and an iPad mini, both of which are much more eye-friendly, but sometimes I’m stuck waiting unexpectedly and don’t have one of those devices with me.)

The Ask This Book feature is activated by tapping the page and getting a menu of icons at top of the screen. Ask This Book is the diamond shape with the little +.

Or, you can highlight a word or portion of text, which should give you the option to ask your question.

You can also choose between having AI look at the whole book, or only up to as far as you’ve read, which is supposed to avoid spoilers. I used the whole book option and asked the question, “What kind of person is Mike Romeo.”

This is the response I got. (Sorry, but my phone wouldn’t let me shrink the text to get the entire answer on the screen, but you can probably figure out the first sentence.)

**If you’re reading this, JSB, what do you think about this characterization summary?

The Author’s Guild is pushing back. This is what they had to say:

“The Guild is looking into whether the feature, which was added without permission from publishers or authors, might infringe authors’ and publishers’ rights.

“Ask this Book, which is slated for a wider rollout in 2026, allows readers to query an AI chatbot about books they have purchased or borrowed. So far there is no way for publishers or authors to opt their books out of the feature, though as of this writing the feature is not available for all ebooks. It allows a reader to highlight text and click on an “Ask” icon to ask the AI to “explain” the selected text or enter their own question in the chatbot. All responses are generated from the book itself.

“The Guild is concerned that Ask this Book turns books into searchable, interactive products akin to enhanced ebooks or annotated editions—a new format for which rights should be specifically negotiated—and, given Amazon’s stronghold on ebook retail, it could usurp the burgeoning licensing market for interactive AI-enabled ebooks and audiobooks.”

Writer Beware isn’t too happy about the feature, either. They say, “Agents and publishers broadly regard anything to do with generative AI as a separate right reserved solely to the author, and publishing contracts are increasingly addressing this issue. The primary focus has been on preventing unpermissioned AI training, but with the technology embedding itself at warp speed in all aspects of the book business, the rights implications are expanding just as fast…especially where, as here, they sneak in under the radar.”

Should this be considered yet another format of a book? If so, what are the author’s rights?

As of now, there is no opt-out choice. Ask This Book is included automatically. It operates independently of the author, so they don’t get to review answers, suggest changes, or flag problems.

Your thoughts, TKZers? Are authors and publishers getting shortchanged?

**Note: if you’re upset with Amazon, my books are available wide.

New! Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

Deadly Ambitions
Peace in Mapleton doesn’t last. Police Chief Gordon Hepler is already juggling a bitter ex-mayoral candidate who refuses to accept election results and a new council member determined to cut police department’s funding.
Meanwhile, Angie’s long-delayed diner remodel uncovers an old journal, sparking her curiosity about the girl who wrote it. But as she digs for answers, is she uncovering more than she bargained for?
Now, Gordon must untangle political maneuvering, personal grudges, and hidden agendas before danger closes in on the people he loves most.
Deadly Ambitions delivers small-town intrigue, political tension, and page-turning suspense rooted in both history and today’s ambitions.

 

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

Progress and Practice

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Progress and practice are essential to both improving our writing and succeeding in the sense of completing work and putting it out into the world, be it as a submission to an agent or publisher, or an indie-published work. But how do you break down the elements of progress and measure it? How do you restart your practice of writing when you’ve stalled out?

Today’s Words of Wisdom has you covered with excerpts of posts by Clare Langley-Hawthorne, Debbie Burke and James Scott Bell. The original posts are of course date-linked at the bottom of their respective excerpts.

A few weeks ago I spotted an article in the New York Times entitled ‘Micro-Progress and the Magic of Just Getting Started’ (you can read it here) and realized it was tailor made for us writers (especially after I’d seen a number of posts on my writing groups about writers writers feeling overwhelmed about their projects).

The idea of ‘micro-progress’ is simple: For any task you have to complete, break it down to the smallest possible units of progress and attack them one at a time.

In many ways, it’s an obvious concept. But what caught my eye, was the fact that studies had shown that micro-progress (or establishing micro-goals) can actually trick the brain into increasing dopamine levels, providing satisfaction and happiness. Sounds like the perfect plan for anyone facing the daunting prospect of completing a novel:)

Online I was seeing posts from people who felt overwhelmed by revisions, who were despairing that their novel had run aground mid way through, or who were experiencing chronic writer’s block and desperate for advice. In all of these situations, focusing on ‘micro-progress’ seemed a useful place to start.

The concept of ‘micro-progress’ has also helped me. I currently have a number of projects out on submission and a couple of ones with my agent – so it was time to start a new WIP. I faced a dilemma though – I had the first 50 pages of a YA novel that I’ve been noodling over (actually driving myself insane over is probably more apt) and yet I was concerned it still wasn’t quite ‘there yet’. I struggled with whether I really knew what the book was about (despite a synopsis and outline, mind you). So I decided it was best to put it aside and start a completely new project – yet at the back of my mind I still couldn’t quite let the old project completely die. Enter ‘Micro-Progress’!

I decided to use the advice in the NYT article and tackle both projects but with a different mindset. For the brand new WIP I’d sit down and get started in the usual way. I have the synopsis and outline so it was time to face the blank page and get writing. I’d focus on this everyday except Friday – when I’d allow myself to tackle the old project but with a ‘micro-progress’ approach. I’d just take it scene by scene in Scrivener and see what happened – without placing too much pressure on myself. The regular WIP could progress in the usual fashion – but for this one I’d be happy setting smaller, more manageable goals to see how it would all come together. In this way a ‘micro-progress’ mindset helped overcome my confidence issues as well my concerns about abandoning the project all together.

A ‘micro-progress’ mindset could be helpful in almost all our writing as it focuses on the smaller more manageable steps that can be taken. The evidence also seems to demonstrate that this approach can stimulate our brains, enabling us to continue, progress and feel a sense of achievement and satisfaction – rather than becoming overwhelmed by the totality of the task ahead. But I guess the key question is – TKZers – what do you think about ‘micro-progress’?

Clare Langley-Hawthorne—February 26, 2018

By now, you’re wondering if I’ll ever get to the point of this post.

This is it.

Writing has never been a profession that delivers immediate gratification.

Measuring one’s writing progress is tough to quantify. In a regular job, a paycheck every week or two proves the worker’s worth and skills.

In writing, months and years may go by without a “paycheck.”

Even when your career reaches a point where you receive advances and royalties, the income probably won’t support you in the style you’d like to become accustomed to.

If you can’t measure your writing progress in a tangible monetary way, how do you know if you’re improving?

Your best yardstick is yourself.

Look back at what you wrote six months ago, a year, five years, or 20 years ago. Have your skills improved? Have you learned new craft techniques?

Did a class or workshop change the way you create characters, or handle action scenes, or infuse emotion into your stories? Has your pacing improved? Did you head-hop in the past but now you’ve finally mastered point of view (POV)?

Do readers and other writers notice improvement in your work?

Do you waste less time floundering around trying to find a story? Do you have more focus and better concentration when you write? Do you feel more confident about showing your writing to others?

Do you have goals? Have you achieved some of them? Then do you set higher goals?

Writing is a ladder without end. No one knows everything about writing. We all need to work continuously to improve our craft, master more complicated skills, and produce more words.

Debbie Burke—May 23, 2023

My keyboard was getting cold. So I had to go back and re-establish some disciplines. Here they are:

  1. Plan the next day’s writing the night before

At night, when I’m always too spent to produce more, I take just a few minutes to think about what I’ll write tomorrow. Hemingway famously said he’d leave off writing midsentence, so he could take off running the next day.

So I think about the scene I’m going to write next. I give it some structure brainstorming: Objective, Obstacles, Outcome.

Then I’ll write one sentence. Just one. And that’s where I start when morning comes. Which brings me to tip #2:

  1. Sleep

We all know that good, restorative sleep makes a big difference in our daily lives. We also know sleep problems are rife, especially in the anxiety-inducing world we live in.

That’s why there’s a boom in sleep products. The most common ingredient is melatonin. I like to manage my melatonin naturally. I try to get ten to fifteen minutes of sunlight between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. (good for Vitamin D, too). I also try to keep off the blue light of phone and computer and TV screens before bed. If I do some computer or watch some TV, I wear yellow-tint glasses. This renders color movies or shows a bit, well, yellowish. But I can live—and sleep—with that.

Now here’s JSB’s secret tip for a good night’s sleep: Quercetin. I pop an 800mg tab half an hour before I hit the pillow. I no longer wake up in the middle of the night.

And here is an added benefit: Quercetin is an ionophore. That means it’s a molecule that helps your cells absorb good things, like zinc. Another ionophore is hydroxychloroquine. Remember the suppression of HCQ at the beginning of Covid? Don’t get me started on the political and medical malpractice of that. HCQ, like quercetien, helps the cells absorb zinc which, along with D, is the Praetorian Guard of the immune system.

Thus the adage “An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Apples are a great source of quercetin. That’s why all those apple-egg-meat eating farmers never got sick.

  1. Write first thing in the morning

Well, second thing. First thing is make the coffee. Mrs. B and I spend devotional time together, so I get up earlier and knock out a Nifty 250 (or 350 if I’m going good) before she joins me in the living room. I sometimes do this on my laptop. I used to do it on my beloved AlphaSmart. But Alphie is showing his age lately, so I invested in a very cool Macally wireless keyboard that has a slot for your phone or tablet. I write my words in Google Docs.

Getting a 250 or 350 jump on the day makes hitting the quota so much easier.

I’ll sometimes do some morning pages to get the engine started. This often results in a new idea for a story. [Note: I don’t count morning pages in my quota, unless I end up using some of them in a project.]

James Scott Bell—October 15, 2023

***

  1. Have you tried breaking down a task into the smallest possible unit as Clare described? Any advice to add on doing so?
  2. How do you measure your progress as a writer?
  3. If you’ve ever stopped writing or been stalled out, how have you restarted your practice of writing?

Series Words of Wisdom

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A great mystery or thriller series can have lasting popularity. But how do you create a one that will go the distance with readers?

Today’s Words of Wisdom has you covered. James Scott Bell provides five qualities in the best series characters. John Gilstrap discusses planting fodder for a future series in that first book even as each book can stand on its own. Finally, Sue Coletta assembles advice from several other Kill Zone authors on building series.

All three posts are well worth reading in full, and as always are date-linked at the end of their respect excerpts.

I see five qualities in the best series characters. If you can pack these in from the start, your task is half done. Here they are:

  1. A point of uniqueness, a quirk or style that sets them apart from everybody else

What is unique about Sherlock Holmes? He’s moody and excitable. Among the very staid English, that was different.

Jack Reacher? Come on. The guy doesn’t own a phone or clothes. He travels around with only a toothbrush. Funny how every place he goes he runs into massive trouble and very bad people.

  1. A skill at which they are really, really good

Katniss Everdeen is killer with the bow and arrow.

Harry Potter is one of the great wizards (though he has a lot to learn).

  1. A bit of the rebel

The series hero should rub up against authority, even if it’s in a quiet way, like Miss Marple muttering “Oh, dear” at the local constabulary. Hercule Poirot is a needle in the side of Inspector Japp.

  1. A vulnerable spot or character flaw

Robert E. Howard’s Conan the Cimmerian has a vicious temper that sometimes gets the better of him.

Sherlock Holmes has a drug habit.

Stephanie Plum keeps bouncing between two lovers, who complicate her life.

  1. A likable quality

Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe has some of the greatest quips in the history of crime fiction. We like them because Marlowe is also vulnerable—to getting beat up, drugged, or otherwise manhandled by forces larger than himself (like Moose Malloy).

Wit is one of the great likability factors.

Another is caring for others besides oneself. Stephanie Plum has a crazy family to care for, not to mention her sometime partner Lula.

James Scott Bell—August 13, 2017

A series is more episodic.

My Jonathan Grave thriller series is not a continuing story, but is rather a collection of stand-alone stories that involve recurring main characters.  Jonathan Grave’s character arc over the course of eleven books now is very long and slow, while the arcs of the characters he interacts with are completely developed within each book.  There are Easter eggs for readers who have read all the books in order, but I am careful to make each episode as fulfilling for a reader who picks up  Book Ten as their first exposure to the series as it is for a reader who’s been with me from the beginning.

Writers like the always-fabulous Donna Andrews write series that are driven as much by place as by characters.  The people in her fictional town of Caerphilly, Virginia, are a hoot, even though an extraordinary number of people are murdered there.

Jeffery Deaver’s Lincoln Rhyme solves a new crime by the end of every book.  While Rhyme’s medical progress as a quadriplegic is continually evolving from book to book, as is his relationship with Amelia, a new reader is well-grounded in any story, without benefit of having read the previous ones.

A stand-alone, well, stands alone.

When I finished Nathan’s Run, the story was over.  There was no place I could feasibly have taken Nathan or the other characters to tell a new story.  That was the case with each of the following three novels and, of course, with my nonfiction book.  I think the primary characteristic of a stand-alone is that “The End” means the end.  The character and story arcs have all been driven to ground.

A series takes planning.

When I was writing No Mercy, the first book in the Grave series, I knew in my heart that I had finally landed on a character who could support a series.  What I didn’t know was whether or not a publisher would buy it, and if they did, whether they’d support the idea of developing the one story into many.  Still, I made a conscious effort to plant as much fodder as I could for potential use in future stories.  For example:

  1. Jonathan is a former Delta Force operator, leaving the potential for stories dealing with his days in the Unit.
  2. His hostage rescue activities are a covert part of a legitimate private investigation firm that does work for some of the largest corporate names in the world.  This sets up potential stories set in the world of more common private investigators.
  3. Jonathan is the primary benefactor for Resurrection House, a school for the children of incarcerated parents.  When every student has parents with lots of enemies, there’s lots of potential for future stories.
  4. His home, Fisherman’s Cove, Virginia, is the town where he grew up.  This puts him in the midst of people who already know the darkest secrets of his childhood and accept him for who he is.  Or they don’t.  This sets up the potential for small  town conflicts.

John Gilstrap—November 21, 2018

From Jordan Dane:

  1. Create a large enough world to sustain a series if it gains traction by planting plot seeds and/or character spinoffs in each individual novel. With the right planted seeds, future stories can be mined for plots during the series story arcs. An example of this is Robert Crais’s Elvis Cole PI series where his main character Cole is plagued by his past and his estranged father until THE FORGOTTEN MAN, a stellar novel in the middle of the series that finally provided answers to the mystery.

Crais often plants seeds that he later cultivates in later books. It takes organization & discipline to create these mysteries and track the seeds to save for later.

  1. Endings of each novel in a continuing series are important to readers if your book release schedule has long lags in time. A major cliffhanger can be frustrating for readers to discover at the end of a book before they realize the next novel won’t be released for 6 months to a year.

If your planned series isn’t limited to a certain number of stories (ie Hunger Games – 3 novels) where the overall story arc will be defined, an author might consider writing series novels that read as standalones with a tantalizing foreshadowing of the next story to hook readers. Creating an intriguing mystery to come will pique reader’s interest, rather than frustrate them with a huge cliffhanger they may have to wait a year to read.

See these tips in action in Jordan’s Mercer’s War Series.

From James Scott Bell:

  • Give your series character one moral quest that he or she is passionate about, to the point where it feels like life and death. For example, my Mike Romeo series is about the quest for TRUTH. This is the driving force for all he does. It gives both character and plot their meaning. A quest like this will carry from book to book.
  • Give your series character at least one special skill and one special quirk. Sherlock Holmes is a skilled stick fighter (which comes in handy). But he also shoots up cocaine to keep his mind active. Mike Romeo has cage fighting skills. He also likes to quote literature and philosophy before taking out a thug.

From Joe Hartlaub:

Sue, I love Jordan’s suggestions, particularly #2, about the works being standalones with a foreshadowing of what is to come. Who among us read Stephen King’s Dark Tower trilogy and got to the end of The Dark Tower III; The Waste Land to find the cast aboard a sentient, suicidal choo-choo heading toward oblivion? That was all well and good until we all had to wait six friggin’ years to find out what happened next in Wizards and Glass. 

  • I have one suggestion, which I call the Pop Tart model. Pop Tarts started with a basic formula; they were rectangular, were small enough to fit into a toaster, large enough to pull out, used the same pastry as a base, and started with a set of fillings and slowly added more and different ones over the years. So too, the series.
  • Design a character with a skill set consisting of two or three reliable elements, decide whether you are going to make them a world-beater (Jason Bourne), a close-to-homer (Dave Robicheaux), or something in between (Jack Reacher), and bring in a couple of supporting characters who can serve as necessary foils (Hawk and Susan from the Spenser novels) who can always be repaired or replaced as necessary. Your readers will know what to expect from book to book but will be surprised by how you utilize familiar elements.

From Laura Benedict:

The best series do a good job of relationship-building, along with world-building.

  • Give your main character …
  1. someone to love and fight for,
  2. someone to regret knowing,
  3. someone to respect,
  4. someone to fear.
  • Be careful about harming your secondary characters because readers get attached. If you’re going to let a beloved character go—even a villain—make the loss mean something.

See these tips in action in The Stranger Inside.

Sue Coletta—January 14, 2019

***

  1. What do you think of Jim’s five character qualities for series characters, as a writer or a reader? Any additions?
  2. When it comes to series, again as either a writer or a reader, what do you think of the easter eggs and ongoing “fodder” John mentioned?
  3. What do you think of the advice Sue shared? Anything especially resonate with you?

Voice Revisited

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Voice Revisited
Terry Odell

Travel gods willing, I’ll be in the air much of the day, on my way to Hubster’s Bucket List trip of a Mississippi River cruise on a paddlewheeler with a few extra days in New Orleans to enjoy the sights–and the food. I’ll respond to comments when I can.

In my last post, Dr. Doug Lyle spoke about voice being the most important thing that sells your next book, so I’m revisiting a post I did on the subject of voice back in 2021, with some additions and other modifications. (There’s a free short story read in this version.)

I’m looking at two aspects of voice: Character and Author.

Part A. Character Voices, or “Give Them Their Own.”

I recall reading my first book by a best-selling author. A male character discovered a young girl, about 5 years old, who had been left to die in the woods. He brings her to his cabin and finds she cannot or will not speak. I was impressed with the way the character spoke to the child—it seemed exactly how someone should deal with that situation. However, as more characters entered the story, I discovered that he spoke that way to all of them. Not only that, almost every character in the book spoke with that same “Talking to a Child” voice. Obviously, it doesn’t bother the millions who buy her books, but it bugged the heck out of me. And it’s consistent with all her books in that series. It wasn’t just a one-time deal.

It’s important in a book that characters not only sound like themselves, but don’t sound like each other. That means knowing their history, their age, education, as well as occupation, nationality—the list goes on. Ideally, a reader should be able to know who’s speaking from the dialogue on the page without beats, tags, or narrative.

Cowboys don’t talk like artists, who don’t talk like sailors, who don’t talk like politicians. And men don’t talk like women. They’re hard-wired differently. I’m a woman, and in my first drafts the dialogue will lean in that direction. After I’ve written my male characters’ dialogue, I go back and cut it down by at least 25%.

A few tips to make your characters sound like themselves.

Don’t rely on the “clever.” Dialect is a pitfall—more like the Grand Canyon. If you’re relying on phonetic spelling to show dialect, you’ll stop your readers cold. Nobody wants to stop to sound out words. You can show dialects or accents with one or two word choices, or better yet, have another character notice. “She heard the Texas in his voice” will let the reader know.

Give your characters a few simple “go to” words or phrases. For me, this is often deciding what words my character will use when he or she swears (since I write a lot of cops and covert ops teams, swearing is a given). Then, make sure he or she is the only person who uses that word or phrase.

Keep the narrative “in character” as well. This especially includes internal monologue, and even extends to narrative. Keep your metaphors and similes in character. If your character’s a mechanic, he’s not likely to think of things in terms of ballet metaphors.

What your character says and does reveals a lot to your readers. Workshops I’ve attended have given out the standard character worksheets (which have me screaming and running for the hills), but it’s the “other” questions that reveal your character. What’s in her purse? What’s in his garbage? What does he/she order at Starbucks? Would he/she even be caught dead in a Starbucks? James Scott Bell’s workshops include excellent examples.

How do you keep your characters distinct? How do you get to know them? Do you need to know a lot before you start, or are you (like I am) someone who learns about them as you go?

Which brings me to Part B: Authorial Voice, or “Stay the Hell off the Page.”

After  a presentation I gave for a local book club, one member said she’d read one of my books. Her comment was, “You write the same way you talk.” And, after I sent a chapter to my critique partners, one said, “This sounds very Terry.” That, I think, sums up “voice.”

Any author starting out tries to write what she thinks a writer should sound like. She might work hard to make her characters sound unique, and true to their backgrounds, but all the other stuff—the narrative parts where the character isn’t speaking—sounds stilted. It sounds “writerly.”

But what the characters say isn’t quite the same as “Authorial Voice.” Think of all the renditions of the national anthem performed at sporting events. The words are the same, the notes are the same, but each singer performs it in their unique voice.

The author’s voice is all the other words, the way the sentences are put together, how the paragraphs break. Can anyone confuse Harlan Coben with Lee Child? Janet Evanovich with Michael Connelly? Even Nora Roberts has a distinctive voice that is recognizable whether she’s writing a romance as Roberts, or one of her “In Death” futuristics as JD Robb. There are those who say the authorial voice is the writer’s style.

When I was a fledgling writer, I experimented. One such experiment was a short story in a voice that seems very different from the way I write now. Perhaps it was because I’d been reading a book my cousin recommended, which was not what I usually read. At any rate, it’s a very short story, and was almost my first paid writing gig. Alas, the magazine folded before the offered contract was issued. When I wrote it, it was more of an exercise in POV; first his, then hers. It’s called “Words” and you can download it for free here. For those of you locked into your Kindles, you can find it here. (Amazon is cranky about freebies.) I’d be curious to know if anyone sees my current voice with the one in this short short.

Your authorial voice will develop over time and (one hopes) will become recognizable. It’s important to learn the ‘rules’ of writing before trying to be distinctive. In the art world, we recognize artists by their style. The Star Spangled Banner opens countless events, yet even though the notes are the same, they presentations vary. Immensely.

Before artists of any format—music, poetry, prose, acting, create their own recognizable style, they learn the basics. Before your voice will develop, you have to write. And write. And write some more.

Try looking at your manuscript, or the book you’re reading. Find a passage that’s filled with narrative. How do you, or the author in question deal with it? Is it in the same vein as the dialogue, or do you get jolted out of the story because all of a sudden there’s an outsider taking over? If it’s a funny book, the narrative needs to reflect that sense of humor. If it’s serious, the author shouldn’t be cracking wise in narrative. If your character speaks in short, choppy sentences, then he’s likely to think that way, too. Again, the narrative should continue in that same style.

You want your voice to be recognized, but not intrude on the story. If you want the reader caught up in the story and the characters, you, the author have no business being on the page. Every word on the page should seem to come from the characters, whether it’s dialogue or narrative. You’re the conduit for the story and the characters. You’re there so they shine, not the reverse.

It takes practice—and courage, because you have to put “you” on the page, and not the “writer.” But when you finish, you should have your own special work. You won’t be a cookie-cutter clone. Rule of thumb—if it sounds “writerly”, cut it. When the words flow from the fingertips, that’s probably your own voice coming through. Let it sing.

New! Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

Danger Abroad

When breaking family ties is the only option.

Madison Westfield has information that could short-circuit her politician father’s campaign for governor. But he’s family. Although he was a father more in word than deed, she changes her identity and leaves the country rather than blow the whistle.

Blackthorne, Inc. taps Security and Investigations staffer, Logan Bolt, to track down Madison Westfield. When he finds her in the Faroe Islands, her story doesn’t match the one her father told Blackthorne. The investigation assignment quickly switches to personal protection for Madison.

Soon, they’re involved with a drug ring and a kidnapping attempt. Will working together put them in more danger? Can a budding relationship survive the dangers they encounter?
Available now.

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

Character Based Transitions

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Character Based Transitions
Terry Odell

dog in the snow with Happy Holidays textAs this is my last post here before TKZ takes its annual holiday break, I’d like to wish everyone my best wishes for a happy holiday season, no matter what you celebrate. And if you don’t celebrate any holidays in December, I wish you a happy month.

Travel played a big part in my 2024, with two big international trips—one to New Zealand, and another to the Faroe Islands. I’m currently working on a book set against some of the places we saw in the Faroes. I’ve mentioned it before. Writing a book set in a place you’ve been turns in into a research trip. Read tax write off.

My Danube Christmas Market book, Double Intrigue, is a stand alone, but when it came to figuring out the bones of a story focused in the Faroes, it seemed more suited to another Blackthorne, Inc. book. Keeping within that series genre, it would have to be a romantic suspense. And, like in Cruising Undercover, it wasn’t going to be a covert ops book, but rather the protagonist would be working in Blackthorne’s Security and Investigations department. I’m too burned out on war and violence to write about it. And, because “romantic suspense” would be in the subtitle, I was going to need a second protagonist in order to meet the expectations of romance readers.

Have I ever mentioned the challenges of writing a romantic suspense? It’s really three books in one. There’s the ‘suspense/mystery’ story, as well as the romance story, which requires character arcs for both the hero and heroine. (Or hero/hero or heroine/heroine, but I haven’t written one of those yet.)

hands of runners handing off a relay race batonMy normal style is to alternate chapters between my POV characters. Which brings me to transitions.

JSB recently wrote that he used a jump cut and Drop Caps to alert the reader to a new scene. I’m old school and use chapters. I used to include both POV scenes in my chapters, but my editor told me that since readers want short chapters these days, to make each POV scene its own chapter.

I recently read a book by a Big Name Author who told the story from the points of view of two protagonists. Not a romance by any stretch. The two characters were working toward a common goal, often going their separate ways. It was a great book, don’t get me wrong, but the author never made it clear (to me, anyway) at the start of each chapter, who the POV character was. It created ‘out of the story’ moments. Now, if I’d been a more astute reader, I might have realized that one protagonist was written in 1st person, and the other was written in third, but that took a lot of time to figure out.

My approach when I’m writing is to make darn sure that every chapter starts out with showing who/where/when/and a POV “flag” to ground my readers. Troubling as it may be to authors, readers might have put the book down, gone to work, come home to a family crisis, or any other interruption and they might not get back to the book for several days. Or, they’re like me, and they just plain forget.

In the current wip, not only do I have 2 POV characters, but they don’t get together on the page until Chapter 14. Until then, they’re in different countries, and their timelines aren’t the same. Not because of time zone issues. One’s several weeks ahead of the other.

I ended up writing each character’s chapters separately, and then weaving them together. Sort of like JSB’s Shadow Stories, because I needed to know what each of them was doing in their own timeline even though they hadn’t met yet, but these stories were on the page, not in my notes. That wasn’t my normal process, and created its own challenges when it came time to weave them together.

If you’re alternating POV characters, and they’re not together, the last sentence of the previous paragraph might not lead into the first one of the next.

Every chapter needs to ground the reader. Who’s the POV character? Where are they? When is it? What are they doing?

I prefer to get this information right up front. Definitely within the first few paragraphs.

The “who” I want in the first paragraph if at all possible.

Things to consider:

  • Use the character’s name.
  • Show them doing something.
  • Show a thought or something only they would know—the POV “flag”.

The vibration of Logan Bolt’s cell phone gave him a welcome excuse for a break from his run.

We have his name: Logan Bolt. He’s running. He’s glad for the interruption, and only he knows this. (flag”)

Or this:

Maddie busied herself with kitchen tasks, trying not to think that Logan might not have been completely honest.

We know the POV character is Maddie. She’s working in the kitchen. Only she will know what she’s thinking. (”flag”)

Doesn’t take much, but you’re grounding your reader.

I did a post a while back dedicated solely to different kinds of transitions, so if you want more, you can find it here.

How do you handle transitions? Tips and Peeves welcome.

And again, Happy Holidays. See you in January.

New! Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

Double Intrigue
When your dream assignment turns into more than you bargained for
Cover of Double Intrigue, an International Romantic Suspense by Terry Odell Shalah Kennedy has dreams of becoming a senior travel advisor—one who actually gets to travel. Her big break comes when the agency’s “Golden Girl” is hospitalized and Shalah is sent on a Danube River cruise in her place. She’s the only advisor in the agency with a knowledge of photography, and she’s determined to get stunning images for the agency’s website.
Aleksy Jakes wants out. He’s been working for an unscrupulous taskmaster in Prague, and he’s had enough. When he spots one of his coworkers in a Prague hotel restaurant, he’s shocked to discover she’s not who he thought she was.
As Shalah and Aleksy cruise along the Danube, the simple excursion soon becomes an adventure neither of them imagined.

Like bang for your buck? I have a new Mapleton Bundle. Books 4, 5, and 6 for one low price.

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

A Very Special Person Named First

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A little perspective, like a little humor, goes a long way. —Allen Klein

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My first two novels were written in third person. Each scene had one POV character and the verb tense was consistent throughout the scene.

But when I began my third novel, Time After Tyme, I decided to try something new. I gave one character a first-person POV in her scenes. The rest of the scenes were in third person. I discovered the power of first person in that novel, and I fell in love with it.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view … until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” –Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird

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I enjoyed writing first person so much that my fourth novel, Lacey’s Star, and the fifth (a yet-to-be-published middle grade effort), are written in first person from the main character’s POV. To me, first person is especially effective because the narration is a conversation (albeit one-sided) between the narrator and the reader. The narrator relays the story in his/her own words.

But there’s something else that’s special about first person that I think connects the reader to the story in a unique way. It’s a topic that I don’t recall having been discussed here on TKZ, so I’d like to raise it now. It has to do with verb tense.

* * *

Example 1 from the classic by J.D. Salinger.

The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger

“They kicked me out. I wasn’t supposed to come back after Christmas vacation, on account of I was flunking four subjects and not applying myself and all. They gave me frequent warning to start applying myself—especially around midterms, when my parents came up for a conference with old Thurmer—but I didn’t do it. So I got the ax. They give guys the ax quite frequently at Pencey. It has a very good academic rating, Pencey. It really does.”

Did you see how the author switched from past tense to present so the character can move from telling the events of the story to offering a personal opinion? It’s as if the character wants to share a little detail with the reader, so he turns directly to the audience and hands out some extra information. This ability to offer side comments in the character’s voice seems to me to be unique in first person, and it shows an aspect of the character that may not work if the author stays with past tense.

When I was working on my first-person novels, I didn’t realize I was using exactly this technique, but someone with editing experience reviewed some of my work and told me the tense had to agree all the way through each scene. I didn’t see it that way, so I went looking for examples that used the first-person past / present approach. In addition to The Catcher in the Rye, I found lots of other examples, and they convinced my friend this was a valid approach.

Example 2 from a highly-regarded Middle Grade novel.

The Remarkable Journey of Coyote Sunrise by Dan Gemeinhart

“Once upon a time, it was hot and I was sweaty. It was about five months before my thirteenth birthday, give or take. We were someplace in Oregon. Honestly, I don’t even remember the name of the town, but I know it was on the dry, hot side of the state, away from the ocean.”

Example 3 where John D. MacDonald gives his main character, Travis McGee, so many opinions to share in present tense that I had a hard time deciding which one to pick.

The Deep Blue Good-By by John D. MacDonald

“The next morning, after making laundry arrangements, I untethered my bike and pedaled to the garage where I keep Miss Agnes sheltered from brine and sun. She needs tender loving care in her declining years. I believe she is the only Rolls Royce in America which has been converted into a pickup truck.”

Example 4 from an American classic.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain

“After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so then I didn’t care no more about him, because I don’t take no stock in dead people.”

And finally, Example 5 from our own JSB.

Romeo’s Justice by James Scott Bell

“Which is why I owed her that blasted thing called honesty. I never want Sophie to have any illusions about this piece of work called Romeo.”

So, there you have it. Examples of past and present tense, each within one paragraph, and all from masters of writing. Novl.org has a nice summation:

“We use tenses every day naturally as part of speech. While consistency is key when maintaining narrative voice, it’s important to remember that you can play around with tense for interesting narrative effect. Whatever you do, just make sure you choose the option that best serves your story.”

“Whatever you do, just make sure you choose the option that best serves your story.” I like that.

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So TKZers: Do you write in first person? Have you noticed the use of both past and present tense in first person narratives? Will the two tenses work in third person? Any reflections on the examples above? 

* * *

Private pilot Cassie Deakin offers a first-person opinion right from the get-go in Lacey’s Star:
“I do not like handsome men… Like the one sitting in the passenger seat of my Cessna 172 while I did the run-up prior to takeoff. Frank White.” 

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