Tag Archives: writing

How Much Does Your Environment Influence Your Writing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The question made me wonder if other writers experience this.

How much does our environment influence the stories we write?

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

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

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

Maybe, maybe not.

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

From the Ripple Foundation:

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

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

That certainly held true for me.

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

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

From Brainly.ph…

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

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

From Princeton.edu…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clues

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

* * *

According to the online Merriam-Webster dictionary

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

 

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

The Clue of Ariadne

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

Biological clues: Strands of hair, DNA, fingerprints.

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

* * *

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

 

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

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

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

Running and Writing
  and the Marathon

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Come what may, all bad fortune is to be conquered by endurance.  –Virgil

* * *

Writing a novel is often compared to running a marathon, and my experience dealing with the unexpected in the London Marathon in April 2010 was a good rehearsal for my later efforts in writing.

I’ve never been a good marathon runner. I’m better suited for the half-marathon. But in 2009, having completed three marathons (San Antonio, Vancouver, and Toronto), I decided I’d go for just one more. And I wanted to run one of the big marathons for that once-in-a-lifetime experience.

I told my husband I’d like to celebrate our anniversary in 2010 with a trip to the UK where I would run the London Marathon in honor of our marriage. Then we could spend a week or so vacationing. Frank was supportive, and for some unknown reason, I was convinced everything would go my way.

Hmm.

The major marathons are so popular that they can’t admit everyone who wants to enter. If you’re a very good runner and can meet the qualifying time for your age group, you’ll be entered. But if you’re like most runners (me, for instance) and can’t meet the qualifying time, they’ll put your name into a lottery and it’s just a matter of chance.

So when they opened the online registration in April 2009, I jumped in and registered along with 150,000 other runners. Although only about a quarter of those would get places, I was ridiculously confident. Around October, I received an email from the London Marathon notifying me that I wasn’t chosen. Rats.

But they held out another possibility. I could run for a charity. “That’s even better,” I thought. I could do a good deed as well as run the marathon. So I applied to several of the charities that I thought I’d like to support, and a few weeks later, one of them called. With about four months to go, I had cleared the first hurdle. I was in the race.

I was sure that from then on everything would be smooth sailing. (You can smile now.)

My running buddies at work were all excited that I was going to run the London, and that made me even more determined to do well. When they asked what kind of time I was planning on, I spouted off a near-impossible-for-me number. But if everything went perfectly, maybe I could make it.

Everything did not go perfectly.

  • Our treadmill, on which I was doing almost half of my training, broke. We needed a new one anyway, so we bought a bigger, better model. A few days of training lost.
  • I injured my knee in a tempo run. A couple of weeks of training lost.

I had stumbled over those first hurdles, but my excitement continued to ramp up as the days ticked closer to the race. Since I suffer from jetlag on international trips, we planned to fly to London six days prior to the marathon to allow my body to adjust to the time change before the race. But then…disaster.

  • A few days before our scheduled departure, I woke up to the news that a volcano in Iceland had erupted, volcanic ash was drifting over western Europe, and airports were closing. Heathrow was one of them. Our flight was cancelled.

You can overcome a lot of obstacles. But a volcano? Time to throw in the towel.

But then the winds shifted, and airports reopened. We managed to get on a flight that put us in London in the early morning hours of Friday before Sunday’s race day. Okay, so my jetlag would be a problem, but the excitement of the race would probably overcome that. (Are you laughing yet?)

I dragged myself out of bed on race day after just a few hours of sleep to discover there were more obstacles: the weather was warm (not good) and it was drizzling rain (super not good). Frank and I agreed on where we’d meet after the race, and he walked me to the starting area to join the other thirty-seven thousand people who had paid perfectly good money to punish their bodies for 26.2 miles.

But at least I had made it to the starting line. Now all I had to do was finish.

The London Marathon is unique. It’s a big party, and many of the marathoners wear costumes. One guy was dressed in a full suit of armor and someone else was carrying a huge replica of the Angel of the North sculpture on his back.

As time ticked down to the start, you could feel the buzz in the air. After an entire year of waiting, hoping, training, and planning, the starter’s pistol fired, and we were off.

I wish I could say everything went well.

  • For the first time ever, my GPS watch malfunctioned. Bad omen.
  • Another first: I got a side stitch. At least now I can describe in a book what it feels like to be stabbed just below the ribs.
  • As the miles went on, fatigue set in, and I realized I was getting a blister on one of my heels.
  • By the time I got to the eighteen-mile mark, I was starving. I guess the time change had messed up my body clock. Honestly, if I had seen a child holding a sandwich by the side of the course, I probably would have snatched it out of the kid’s hand and run away before anyone could catch me. But there were no sandwiches, my back and foot hurt, and I was run-walking so slow that I knew I was going to turn in a terrible time.

* * *

That’s when I had THE THOUGHT. I could quit. I could just step off the course, find a volunteer to give me a cart-ride to the finish, and it would be over. I wouldn’t suffer the embarrassment of a poor showing. I’d just tell everybody I was injured and couldn’t finish. I could bandage my foot and take an Advil and eat a steak dinner and forget this stupid marathon. The whole thing was wrong from the start. Why hadn’t I seen that? Why did I have to be so stubborn when there were just too many problems to overcome?

That little exercise in self-pity and frustration got me through the next mile or two. Then I had the SECOND THOUGHT. I would cross the finish line even if I had to crawl. Even if I was the last person across. Even if they had taken down the banners and all the volunteers had gone home and I didn’t get a medal or a T-shirt. Even if my feet were bleeding so profusely that I was leaving a trail of blood behind me on the course. (Self-martyrdom can be useful in certain situations.)

And I knew no matter how long it took, Frank would be waiting for me, and I knew exactly what he’d say when he saw me. After all, this was the race to honor our marriage, not to show off my great (ha!) running talent.

Those reflections got me through another mile or two, and then I was within just a few miles of the finish, so it didn’t make sense to quit.

I crossed the finish line. I didn’t crawl, and I wasn’t the last person in the race. There were still a couple of thousand people behind me, including angel sculpture man and the guy in the suit of armor. A volunteer hung a medal around my neck and someone else handed me a T-shirt that said “LonDONE 25.04.10.” Then I walked into the meeting area and saw Frank waving. As I limped toward him with my hair frizzy from the rain and my clothes damp with sweat, he jogged over and put his arm around me. “Great race, honey.”

* * *

So yeah. Writing a novel, especially a first one, is a lot like running a marathon. You start out with all this enthusiasm and confidence, but then things get hard, much harder than you thought. There are unexpected challenges, and it’s discouraging when agents and publishers don’t immediately see your genius and rush to sign you to a life-long contract.

That’s when many people give up. They hit the wall and decide it’s not worth all the pain and disappointment. According to selfpublishingus.com, only about 3% of people who start writing a book actually finish it. And of those, even fewer have their book published. But for those of us who stay in the race, there’s a satisfaction of accomplishment few have known.

I learned some lessons from the London Marathon that I believe apply to my writing.

  • Life (and running and writing) is more about what you put into it than what you get out.
  • It’s more about fighting the good fight than winning.
  • It’s more about the journey than the destination.
  • You value what you earn more than what someone gives you.

And in the long run (pun intended), whether it’s running or writing or living, endurance is more important than talent.

* * *

 

This has been a very long TKZ blog post, and if you made it to the end, you deserve a medal. Maybe you should consider running a marathon.

 

 

* * *

So TKZers: Have you ever run a marathon?
Have you faced obstacles when writing your books?
How do you deal with the setbacks?

* * *

 

Kathryn Frasier is training for her first marathon, but murderers keep getting in her way.

Run with Kathryn in The Watch Mysteries. The ebook boxset is on sale at  Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Google Play, or Apple Books.

Clarity in Writing

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“Having knowledge but lacking the power to express it clearly is no better than never having any ideas at all.” –Pericles

* * *

I recently had cataract surgery on my right eye. The left eye gets its turn later this week. Prior to the surgery, I was accustomed to viewing objects with a slight blur to them, and that’s not bad when you’re looking at the world in general. As a matter of fact, maybe it’s preferable. But it wasn’t a great method for reading, and the font size on my iPad was getting close to max, so I finally agreed to undergo the procedure. Within a couple of hours after the operation, the world suddenly came into perfect focus, and I could see details I had been missing for years.

All this made me think about writing. No surprise there, but it’s not about seeing the words on the page, but rather seeing the story you want to tell. That kind of sight is what every author aspires to, and one way to obtain it is to understand the theme of your book.

* * *

In his book Story Engineering, Larry Brooks writes

“Not to be confused with concept, theme is what your story is illuminating about real life.”

I like that “illuminating about real life.” Theme is the fundamental message you want your readers to get. It’s the lens through which they will view your story and understand the deeper meaning within it.  And when that happens, the reader will walk away with a memorable experience.

But how do you choose a theme?

* * *

“To produce a mighty book, you must choose a mighty theme.” —Herman Melville

* * *

Writers.com lists some of the common themes in literature. These include

Coming of Age
Faith vs Doubt
Family
Fate vs Free Will
Good vs Evil
Hubris
Justice
Man vs Nature
Man vs Self
Man vs Society
Power and Corruption
Pursuit of Love
Revenge
Survival
War

A few of the novels mentioned on the writers.com site were Jane Eyre (Coming of Age) by Charlotte Bronte, The Iliad (Hubris) by Homer, To Kill a Mockingbird (Justice) by Harper Lee, and 1984: A Novel (Man vs Society) by George Orwell.

They didn’t mention All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque, but that is the book I would choose for its powerful theme of War.

* * *

Some authors decide on a theme before starting a new work. Others may work on their novel for a while before seeing the theme take shape. In any case, having an underlying theme for the story leaves the reader with something more than a good reading experience. It’s a message to carry with them beyond The End.

As a mystery writer, the theme for my books is always that truth will be found and justice will be served. But my last novel, Lacey’s Star, took it one step further. It was based on the theme that finding the truth may depend on who you decide to trust.

My stories also reference the importance of faith and family and emphasize the need for endurance. “Never give up” is an underlying message in every book.

* * *

So TKZers: Do you identify a theme for your books before you start writing? Or do you “discover” the theme as you go along? What themes have you used in your books? What memorable themes have you taken away from books you read?

* * *

 

“The truth is bitter, but with all its bitterness, it is better than illusion.” –Ahad Ha’Am

2024 Eric Hoffer Grand Prize Award Finalist
2024 Eric Hoffer Mystery/Crime Award Honorable Mention

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

Slipstream — A Unique, Hybrid Fiction Cross-Genre

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Recently, I was Zoom chatting with a writer friend. She asked me how it was going with my current work-in-progress—a project titled City Of Danger. I chuckled and said, “I’m intentionally breaking all the rules.”

“What genre is it in?” she asked.

I kept chuckling. “Hard to put a finger on it. It’s kind of a dog’s breakfast. Part hardboiled/noir detective crime fiction. Part thriller and suspense. A lot of historical nostalgia from the 1920s. And some sci-fi from a dystopian future. It involves malevolent AI and time travel. I might even throw in a touch of romantic comedy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m not doing what every editor, agent, and publishing guru always says to do. ‘Strictly write to one genre.’ Nope. I gotta be different.”

“Sounds like Slipstream.”

“Slipstream? What’s that?”

“It’s a unique, hybrid fiction cross-genre. The style has been around awhile, but it’s really gaining traction. Slipstream pushes creativity boundaries. It explores the depths of human experience, the human condition, in novel ways.”

“Damm. I thought I was inventing something new.”

She laughed, and we moved on to other things. When we were done, she’d piqued my interest. I Googled “Slipstream” and asked Chat about it. Did I ever get my eyes opened, and it fit exactly with what I stumbled upon while building City Of Danger.

Among other information, I found a great article in The Write Life titled How to Write Slipstream Fiction—Full Guide and Definition. Here’s the link and the piece’s opening words which don’t need me rephrasing:

In the ever-evolving genres of fiction, Slipstream emerges as a genre that defies the traditional boundaries of storytelling, offering a unique blend of the real and the surreal. This genre, sitting at the crossroads of speculative fiction and literary fiction, challenges our perceptions of reality, inviting readers and writers alike into a world where the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

If you’re intrigued by the idea of crafting narratives that transcend conventional genres, Slipstream fiction may be the creative avenue you’ve been searching for. This article is your comprehensive guide to understanding, appreciating, and ultimately writing Slipstream fiction that captivates and resonates.

What is Slipstream fiction?

Slipstream fiction is a genre that thrives on ambiguity, challenging both writers and readers to explore the spaces between the known and the unknown. Let’s dive into the core aspects that define this intriguing genre.

Our Slipstream fiction definition

Slipstream fiction is notoriously difficult to pin down with a single definition, but at its core, it represents a narrative that straddles the line between the speculative and the literary, often blurring the boundaries of reality and the fantastic. This genre is not just about fantastical elements or futuristic settings; it’s about invoking a sense of wonder, unease, or the uncanny through stories that feel both familiar and deeply strange.

Slipstream challenges our everyday understanding of reality, pushing readers to question what they know about the world around them.

It is this unique blend of the real and the surreal that sets Slipstream apart from more conventional genres, making it a fascinating field for writers who want to explore the depths of human experience in novel ways.

What are the key characteristics of Slipstream fiction?

Before we delve into the characteristics that define Slipstream fiction, it’s important to understand that these traits work together to create a distinctive reading experience that defies easy categorization. Here are the seven most important characteristics of Slipstream fiction:

  1. Ambiguity: Stories often leave more questions than answers, challenging readers to find their interpretations.
  2. Cognitive dissonance: The narrative may combine elements that traditionally don’t coexist, creating a sense of unease or perplexity.
  3. Surreal atmosphere: The setting or events have an otherworldly quality, even if rooted in the familiar.
  4. Emotional resonance: Despite the fantastical elements, the core of Slipstream fiction lies in its ability to evoke deep emotional responses.
  5. Intellectual stimulation: These narratives encourage readers to think deeply about themes, ideas, and the nature of reality itself.
  6. Genre blending: Slipstream fiction often incorporates elements from various genres, refusing to be boxed into a single category.
  7. Metafictional elements: There’s often a self-awareness within the narrative, playing with literary conventions and reader expectations.

Keep in mind that Slipstream fiction is by its nature a genre that blends elements and influences from a wide range of sources. As a result, feel free to use or ignore whichever characteristics of Slipstream depending on what your story requires.

———

So, now I was really intrigued. I spent the better part of a day digging into Slipstream, and I did what I do with most things that intrigue me. I encapsulated it visually on an 11×17 inch sheet. It came out looking like this:

Some of the takeaways from my research were the terms cognitive dissonance, cognitive equilibrium, and cognitive consonance. I wasn’t quite sure what they meant and how they meshed with the Slipstream style. Here’s what my little AI friend said:

Combined, these three terms encompass aspects of cognitive psychology related to the harmony, conflict, and resolution of beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors:

Cognitive Dissonance highlights the discomfort that arises when there is inconsistency between beliefs, attitudes, or behaviors. It emphasizes the tension that individuals experience when they hold conflicting cognitive elements.

Cognitive Equilibrium refers to the state of mental balance or harmony that individuals strive for, wherein their beliefs, attitudes, and understanding of the world are consistent and coherent. It reflects the desire for stability and coherence in one’s cognitive processes.

Cognitive Consonance underscores the psychological comfort that individuals experience when their beliefs, attitudes, or behaviors are in agreement with one another. It signifies a state of alignment and consistency in cognitive processes.

Together, these concepts provide insights into how individuals navigate the internal conflicts and seek harmony in their cognitive processes, whether by resolving inconsistencies (cognitive dissonance), striving for balance and coherence (cognitive equilibrium), or experiencing comfort in consistency (cognitive consonance).

The concepts discussed in this thread—cognitive dissonance, cognitive equilibrium, and cognitive consonance—can intersect with the genre of Slipstream in intriguing ways.

In Slipstream literature, there’s often a deliberate blending of genres, a crossing of boundaries between the familiar and the strange, resulting in narratives that defy conventional categorization. This blending can mirror the cognitive tension of cognitive dissonance, as readers encounter elements that challenge their expectations and beliefs.

Moreover, Slipstream narratives often disrupt traditional narrative structures, creating a sense of cognitive imbalance akin to cognitive dissonance. The stories may provoke a sense of unease or uncertainty, inviting readers to question their assumptions and perspectives, much like cognitive dissonance prompts individuals to confront conflicting beliefs.

At the same time, Slipstream literature can evoke a sense of cognitive equilibrium through its exploration of the surreal and the ordinary coexisting. Just as individuals seek cognitive balance by assimilating new information into their existing frameworks (cognitive equilibrium), Slipstream narratives integrate disparate elements into a cohesive whole, inviting readers to find meaning in the juxtaposition of the familiar and the unfamiliar.

Cognitive consonance also finds resonance in Slipstream, as readers may experience a sense of satisfaction or resonance when seemingly incongruent elements in the narrative coalesce into a coherent whole. This alignment of disparate elements can evoke a feeling of harmony, akin to the psychological comfort of cognitive consonance.

In summary, the concepts of cognitive dissonance, cognitive equilibrium, and cognitive consonance offer a lens through which to explore the cognitive dynamics at play in Slipstream literature. The genre’s blending of genres, disruption of narrative conventions, and integration of disparate elements can evoke cognitive tensions and resolutions reminiscent of these psychological concepts.

———

Me — This is all well and fair, because the object of all fiction is to suspend disbelief in the reader and take them on an exciting, memorable journey. Mixing genres has been successfully done by many writers with many stories over time. Here are some of the Slipstreams that made it big:

Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

Station Eleven by Emily St, John Mandel

Cloud Atlas and The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood

Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami

The City & the City by China Mieville

The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster

The Arrival by Shaun Tan

Her — the movie by Spike Jonze

However, the granddaddy of Slipstream, and one of the early ground breakers, was The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. It’s about a guy who wakes up one morning and finds that he’s turned into a giant insect and has to deal with a situation that truly sucks. Here’s the opening paragraph:

Kill Zoners — Who has heard of the Slipstream style? Has anyone read Slipstream, and what do you think of wildly mixing genres? And has anyone written anything that resembles Slipstream? Let’s get a discussion going and share experiences.

Tropes to the Left of Me

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Tropes to the Left of Me …
Terry Odell

old fashioned key being inserted into a keyhole with white light shining behind it.Kris’s recent post about retiring the Defective Detective followed close on the heels by JSB’s got me thinking. My post is blatantly “borrowed” (and unedited) from tvtropes.org, which is a rabbit warren of fun things to think about. Take a look sometime when you’re not busy.  I did a post about “generic” television tropes (more like cliches) a while back, but this list today is mystery-related..

Whether or not all of these qualify as “tropes” isn’t an issue. Maybe they’re really “plot devices.” Or “reader expectations.” Whatever you call them, they make frequent appearances in mystery tv shows. Here you go:

Absence of Evidence: When the absence of something is a clue.

The Alibi: Someone can prove they were physically incapable of committing the crime.

Amnesiac Hero: When the protagonist has amnesia.

Anachronistic Clue: Something which can’t come from the time period it supposedly came from, which is a sign something is amiss.

Anonymous Killer Narrator: When the serial killer is the narrator of the mystery story.

Anti-Climactic Unmasking: Someone rips off someone else’s face-concealing costume (such as a mask, visor, etc), expecting someone extraordinary, but they get someone ordinary.

Believer Fakes Evidence: A believer plants fake evidence to make others believe in the phenomena of their choice.

Beneath Notice: Disguising oneself as a very plain, regular person.

Beneath Suspicion: When the culprit was never suspected because no one thought it could have been them.

Blood-Stained Letter: A letter or note that has blood on the paper.

Bluffing the Murderer: Someone is pretty sure who committed the crime, so they trick the criminal into revealing themselves.

Bookmark Clue: An important clue is discovered because someone used it as a bookmark.

The Butler Did It: A butler turns out to be the one who committed the crime.

Cast as a Mask: A character and their disguised self are played by separate actors.

Chronic Evidence Retention Syndrome: Bad guys hold onto evidence for no good reason.

Clock Discrepancy: Something seems to have happened at a certain time, but then it turns out it didn’t, for instance because the clock had stopped.

Closed Circle: A plot where the characters can’t leave until it’s over.

Clueless Mystery: A mystery story where the reader/viewer can’t follow along.

Condensation Clue: A hidden message written with one’s finger onto a mirror or window.

Confess in Confidence: The criminal confesses to someone whose job requires confidentiality, such as a clergy member, doctor, or lawyer.

Consulting a Convicted Killer: There’s a dangerous criminal at large, but luckily the investigators can talk to another, incarcerated criminal.

Conviction by Contradiction: A whodunnit mystery is solved by finding a hole in the perp’s story, like a logic puzzle.

Corpse Temperature Tampering: Interfering with natural cooling of a dead body to obfuscate time of death.

Costumes Change Your Size: A disguised figure’s size is somehow different from that of the person underneath. A standard trope for “Scooby-Doo” Hoax mysteries.

Cozy Mystery: A mystery story where there is no graphic violence, sex, or profanity, the murder victims were bad people, the detective is usually a woman with a down-to-earth hobby, the setting is a small community, and the story in general has a lighthearted vibe despite usually dealing with a murder.

Creepy Red Herring: A blatantly creepy suspect is innocent.

Curtain Camouflage: Hiding behind a curtain.

Cut Himself Shaving: A character was attacked, but lies that the injuries are for a mundane reason, such as falling downstairs.

Dame with a Case: Beautiful but untrustworthy woman who hires the Hard Boiled Detective.

Death in the Clouds: A mystery story involving a murder on a plane.

Detectives Follow Footprints: Looking for evidence can solve the case.

Did Not Die That Way: Someone lies about the cause of someone else’s death.

Disability Alibi: A suspect is determined innocent because they have a disability of some sort that makes it impossible for them to have done the crime.

The Dog Was the Mastermind: The villain turns out to be a seemingly harmless and irrelevant character.

Dramatic Curtain Toss: Someone dramatically removes a curtain/tarp/veil, revealing something important.

Driving Question: When the whole story revolves around solving some sort of mystery.

Eagle-Eye Detection: A detective whose main skill is being really observant.

The End… Or Is It?: The story ends with a reveal (or at least an implication) that danger is still present.

“Eureka!” Moment: A character has an epiphany from seeing or hearing something unrelated that reminds them of the answer (e.g. seeing a dog, then realizing the killer was the owner of the hot dog stand.)

Everybody Did It: All the suspects were responsible for the crime in some way.

Everyone Is a Suspect: When the killer in a murder mystery could have been anybody.

Evidence Dungeon: The villain has a lair where lots of incriminating evidence is.

Evidence Scavenger Hunt: A scene about protagonists searching for clues.

Evil Plan: A plan that a villain has.

Exposition Victim: Upon finding out who the killer is, the character speaks to them instead of fighting or running away.

Fair-Play Whodunnit: The opposite of a Clueless Mystery—a mystery story where the reader/viewer can follow along.

Fake Alibi: A suspect claims to have an alibi, witnesses confirm, yet the suspect is actually guilty.

Fake Mystery: The mystery plot turns out to have been staged to prank the detectives.

Fantastic Noir: Mystery and magic mix on the mean streets.

Finger-Licking Poison: Someone was poisoned by licking something covered in poison.

Fingertip Drug Analysis: Testing if a powder or liquid is drugs by sniffing or tasting it.

The Game Never Stopped: Characters take part in a game involving a simulated death, then someone actually dies… or so it seems. As it turns out, the game hasn’t ended yet.

Guilty Until Someone Else Is Guilty: A suspect isn’t proven innocent until the true culprit is exposed.

Hide the Evidence: Hiding the evidence of something wrong or embarrassing is a major plot point.

Hidden in Plain Sight: Something is being searched for, and it turns out it was there the whole time but blended into the surroundings.

Hidden Agenda Hero: The hero’s motivation is never revealed.

Hidden Villain: The villain’s identity is not revealed until much later.

I Never Said It Was Poison: A character accidentally gives themselves away by revealing information that their knowledge of proves they are guilty.

Insists on Being Suspected: The detective counts themselves as a suspect.

Intrepid Reporter: A journalist who actively searches for stories.

Let Off by the Detective: The detective knows who did it, but sympathizes with their motive (or feels they’ve been punished enough) and so doesn’t say so.

Lights Off, Somebody Dies: The lights go out, then when they turn back on, someone has been murdered.

Locked Room Mystery: A crime that seems to have been impossible at first glance (for instance, a murder victim in a locked room.)

Lotsa People Try to Dun It: It turns out that all the suspects tried to kill the victim.

The Main Characters Do Everything: It’s always the protagonists who find the important evidence.

The Meddling Kids Are Useless: The protagonists did all the cool stuff, but ultimately it was some other person, such as the police, who solved the problem.

Mistaken for Evidence: Something looks like a specific, suspicious item but it’s something different.

Mockspiracy: A conspiracy theory which turns out not to be true.

Mockstery Tale: A story that starts out with a mystery, but the mystery turns out to be fake or unsolvable, so the plot goes somewhere different.

Motive = Conclusive Evidence: A motive is treated as incriminating evidence.

Mysterious Stranger: A recurring character who isn’t known by the others, and who’s deliberately set up as enigmatic.

Mystery Episode: An episode in a serial work dedicated to solving a mystery.

Mystery Magnet: Someone who coincidentally seems to attract mysteries.

Mystery of the Week: The protagonists solve a mystery in every episode.

Needle in a Stack of Needles: An object hidden in a bunch of similar objects.

Never a Runaway: Someone who is said to have run away actually befell some other crime.

Never One Murder: Murder mysteries never have just one victim.

Never Suicide: It looks like somebody killed themselves, but it turns out to be murder instead.

Never the Obvious Suspect: Somebody seems to have been the culprit due to having obvious motive and ability to have done it, but it was somebody else who was the real culprit.

No One Sees the Boss: No one, not even his underlings, knows the Big Bad’s identity.

Notable Non Sequitur: In a detective story, every out-of-place line turns out to be important.

Not-So-Fake Prop Weapon: An actor accidentally kills another actor due to a prop weapon being switched for a real one.

Obfuscating Postmortem Wounds: A killer inflicts additional wounds on a corpse to mask the true cause of death.

Old, Dark House: One or more murders happens in an old, poorly-lit house.

Only One Plausible Suspect: A whodunnit where the identity of the culprit is obvious to the viewers.

Ontological Mystery: A story where the characters are locked somewhere and must find out how they got there, why, how to escape, and who (if anyone) is the cause of the situation.

Orgy of Evidence: A criminal plants fake clues, but gives themselves away by the sheer number of fake clues.

Perfect Poison: Killing someone with poison is unrealistically quick and easy.

Placebo Eureka Moment: A character figures out a mystery on their own, but thanks someone near them anyway.

Precrime Arrest: Someone gets arrested for a crime they haven’t even committed yet.

Proof Dare: The criminal dares the detective to prove their guilt.

Propping Up Their Patsy: A culprit proclaims the innocence of another suspect to conceal their own culpability or further their own agenda.

Public Secret Message: Sending a coded message to everyone because only the intended target of the message will understand the code.

Put on a Prison Bus: The culprit is often defeated at the end by being arrested.

Puzzle Thriller: A mystery story where the mystery is “how does it all work?”.

Recorded Audio Alibi: Someone uses a recording of themselves to establish an alibi.

Red Herring: Something seems like a clue, but it misleads the audience.

Reverse Whodunnit: We know who committed the crime, but we don’t know how the detective will solve the case.

Rewind, Replay, Repeat: Somebody finds something that gets their attention in a video, so they rewind and replay it over and over.

A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery Inside an Enigma: Somebody describes a frustrating mystery as three mysteries in one.

Ripped from the Headlines: A crime story based on a real crime.

Saying Too Much: Someone accidentally says something that reveals plot-sensitive info.

Scary Minority Suspect: An immoral-seeming Token Minority character is portrayed as the obvious suspect of a crime.

“Scooby-Doo” Hoax: The perpetrator disguises the crime as a paranormal or supernatural event.

Secret Identity Apathy: The villains do not care about the true identity of the hero who’s always thwarting them.

Serial Killings, Specific Target: A murderer covers up the murder by killing other people with similar traits as the initial victim.

Shadowed Face, Glowing Eyes: A character has glowing eyes peeking out from a shadowed, usually covered face.

Shell Game: Two or more identical things are shown, one is significant, and we initially know which it is until the objects get mixed.

Sherlock Can Read: Someone thinks someone else used great detective work when they didn’t.

Sherlock Scan: A detective comes to a conclusion about someone they just met from looking at them.

The Seven Mysteries: Mysteries come in sevens.

Signature Item Clue: A distinctive item means that someone must have put it there and that’s a clue.

Spot the Impostor: Someone is seen with their impersonator and their friends have to determine who is the real deal and who is the disguised phony.

The Stakeout: One or more people setting up camp somewhere and watch a location in secret to search for information.

Stranger Behind the Mask: The answer to the mystery is something or someone we’ve never heard of.

The Summation: When the detective does a speech about how they solved the mystery.

Summation Gathering: During the Summation in a murder mystery, all the suspects, including the killer, are present.

Suspect Is Hatless: Someone reports a crime while giving a description of the culprit that is too vague and generic to narrow down who the person responsible could be.

Suspicious Missed Messages: Someone won’t answer their phone? Better find out why!

Ten Little Murder Victims: A group of people ends up somewhere, one of them turns out to be a killer, and they must find out which one before they kill everybody.

That Mysterious Thing: Characters refer to something in ambiguous terms so the audience won’t know what it is.

Thriller on the Express: A crime story set on a train.

Twist Ending: The plot leads one way, but then something happens at the end which changes everything.

Two Dun It: There were two culprits all along.

The Unsolved Mystery: A mystery story without a resolution.

Varying Competency Alibi: A character is proven innocent when they’re shown to be too competent or incompetent to do.

Weather Report Opening: The story opens with a description of the weather.

Wheel Program: A number of TV shows are run in the same slot under one title.

Who Dunnit To Me: Someone survives a murder attempt or comes back from the dead after being killed and tries to find out who it was who killed them or tried to kill them.

Who Murdered the Asshole: An unsympathetic person has been killed, but it is difficult to determine who’s responsible because pretty much everyone who knew the victim hated them.

World of Mysteries: A setting with heaps of mysteries in it.

Writing Indentation Clue: Reading the indentations of notes written on a separate piece of paper.

You Meddling Kids: The villain claims they would have gotten away with whatever they planned on doing, if not for the protagonists.

You Wake Up in a Room: A character wakes up in an unfamiliar location.

You Wake Up on a Beach: A story that starts with a protagonist waking up on a beach.

All right, TKZers. Which have you used? Which would you avoid?

How can he solve crimes if he’s not allowed to investigate?

Gordon Hepler, Mapleton’s Chief of Police, has his hands full. A murder, followed by several assaults. Are they related to the expansion of the community center? Or could it be the upcoming election? Gordon and mayor wannabe Nelson Manning have never seen eye to eye. Gordon’s frustrations build as the crimes cover numerous jurisdictions, effectively tying his hands.
Available for preorder 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.”

100 Days of Rejection

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Rejection. Every writer who’s ever auditioned in publishing knows the feeling. Some more than others because some writers are punishment gluttons who keep on submitting queries despite many times being shouted at, “No!”

There’s a famous Stephen King quote that goes, “By the time I was fourteen the nail in my wall would no longer support the weight of the rejection slips impaled upon it. I replaced the nail with a spike and went on writing.”

I don’t know how many rejections Mr. King got before he struck gold with Carrie, but I do know of a man who purposely set out to experience one hundred days of rejections. His name is Jia Jiang, and he put on a marvelous TEDx Talk called What I Learned From 100 Days of Rejection. It’s a must-watch for all writers, entrepreneurs, and creatives who wander into the crosshairs of criticism and rejection.

Spoiler Alert: Jia Jiang was emotionally traumatized as a six-year-old, first-grader when his teacher tried a social experiment that publicly humiliated him. He was so scarred that it wasn’t until his thirties that he faced up to his fear of public rejection. Mr. Jiang overtook his fear by intentionally devising one hundred creative ways to approach strangers and filming their responses to his “crazy” proposals.

Jiang’s crazy proposals went viral, and he now travels the world giving keynote presentations and holding workshops helping others overcome their fear of rejection. You can watch his amusing and informative TEDx Talk here, and you can visit his website RejectionTherapy.com here. You can also source his book Rejection Proof — How I Beat Fear and Became Invincible Through 100 Days of Rejection.

I’ll leave you with a rejection story that happened to me. I finished my first novel manuscript in 2011. I paid to have it professionally edited and, when it was done-as-good-as-it-was-going-to-get-done, I shopped it around the agents. I don’t remember exactly who or how many—probably thirty or forty—even some big names as well as some newbies. I maybe heard back from ten of which eight or so were form rejections.

There was not even one request for a look. So, I moved on. That was when indies were starting to take hold in ebooks, so I went that route. My debut did well on the Amazon charts and, not long after its release, I got an unsolicited email from a literary agent asking if I was represented to which I said, “No.”

I won’t say who, but they requested my complete manuscript to which I complied. After a few weeks, the agent got back to me. “It’s a pass on this one,” they said. “I didn’t quite connect with the story, but I will say you have a really good voice. Send me your next one. If you write it, I’ll read it.”

To which I did. I sent them my sequel—the full 90K word ms—as a Word.doc attachment direct to the agent’s personal email they first cold-called me from and complimented my voice.

Well… I got back this icy, snot-infused reply. “How dare you bypass the company submission guidelines and contact me directly!”  BTW, I just Googled that agent and can’t find them working today.

So, Kill Zoners, that’s my rejection story. How about yours? Let’s hear who’s been snubbed by the world and how badly it went.

The Project Plan

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“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” – Benjamin Franklin

* * *

Last week, Garry Rodgers wrote a TKZ post about Leonardo da Vinci that explored the idea of using both sides of the brain: the left (analytical) and the right (emotional). Today’s post on project plans is all about the left side.

* * *

Let’s start with software. Software development projects are carefully planned and tracked. At least they should be. A large deliverable may involve many actors including developers, documenters, administrators, and testers. A good project manager will maintain a gantt chart much like the one pictured below (intentionally blurred), to document the various deliverables, dependencies, and milestones.

Gantt charts can contains hundreds of line items, so they’re a good way to keep track of everything. But there are pitfalls. Some project managers become so enamored with the bells and whistles of project planning software that they end up managing the plan rather than managing the project.

* * *

So what does this have to do with writing? Although writing is considered a right-brain function, the tasks that go into publishing a book are lefties.

My first book was traditionally published. Once the publisher offered a contract and I signed, they took the steering wheel. They had their own editors that I worked with. They also came up with several different cover designs for me to choose from. They purchased the ISBN and arranged for the copyright. They also decided on the release date and took care of uploading the book to the retail sites as well as Ingram Spark. I didn’t have a lot to do during that phase except ask some people for endorsements and review the situation whenever the publisher contacted me. There was no need for me to have a formal plan. But then things changed, and the rest of this post has to do with all the things that go into self-publishing a novel.

* * *

When my husband and I decided to self-publish the next book, we established our own publishing company, Wordstar Publishing, LLC. The process of publishing a book became a lot more difficult.

I started with a simple to-do list, and things went fairly well, but I only had one book to worry about. It soon became clear that I needed a project plan to keep track of all the threads.

So now I have a project plan for each book. I don’t use a gantt chart, but I maintain an excel spreadsheet with categories. Each category has a list of tasks and each task has a target date, completion date, and notes.  Although I’m an avid follower of the KISS principle, there are well over a hundred line items on the plan for my latest book, and it will grow as I add book promos and feedback.

Here are the major categories and a brief description of each one:

  • Writing / Editing – Everything it takes to get the ms ready for publication. Original ms, dev editor, revisions, line editor, proofreader, text to speech.
  • Beta Readers – List of all the wonderful people whose feedback makes it a better book.
  • Endorsers – More wonderful people who add credibility to the book.
  • Cover Design – Work with the designer, finalize the image, provide back cover copy
  • Copyright & Library of Congress – Get copyright and Library of Congress number. Send copies to gov agencies.
  • Wordstar Publishing tasks – ISBN, barcode, contract with author
  • Website – Update kaydibianca.com with book info
  • Format and Finalize – Format in Vellum, finalize front and back matter
  • Launch-related activities – Identify launch team, finalize emails, newsletters, images
  • Prep for Pre-order and Final ebook – Choose ebook release date, prepare pre-order and upload to retail sites. Upload final version.
  • Prep for Release of Print copy – Choose print release date for retail sites. Upload final version.
  • Ingram Spark and Draft2Digital – Upload ebook and print to Ingram Spark. Upload to Draft2Digital for library distribution.
  • Editorial Reviews – Identify and contact orgs for editorial reviews
  • Marketing – Promos, giveaways, book store contacts
  • Mail books – Send copies to all the folks who helped along the way

So there you have it. A way to keep organized and stay on-target.

* * *

Over to you, TKZers. How do you organize publishing your books? Do you maintain a project plan? What other activities do you track beyond what I have on my list? 

* * *

Cassie Deakin has one item on her to-do list: find out why two ex-cons attacked and almost killed her beloved uncle. But can she complete the task before she becomes the next victim?

Lacey’s Star: A Lady Pilot-in-Command Novel.

 

Writing Things Right

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Writing Things Right
Terry Odell

My second cataract surgery was yesterday, and if everything went as smoothly as the first one did, I should be around to respond to comments.

I’m not a fan of the old “Write What You Know,” mostly because if I followed that guideline, I’d bore my readers (and myself) to death. “Write What You Can Learn” always made more sense to me.

The problem arises when you’re clueless that you don’t know something and merrily write along, enjoying the story.

Hint: Readers don’t like inaccuracies.

In Finding Sarah, I needed a way to keep her from doing the obvious—taking the bad guy’s car keys and driving away after she bonked him on the head. I gave the car a manual transmission, and parked it headed against a tree. Pretty clever, right?  A wise critique partner told me that the Highlander I’d chosen for the vehicle (inside nod to my writing beginnings) didn’t come with a manual transmission. I had no idea you couldn’t get every car in whatever configuration you wanted.

Then there are the gun people.

Robert Crais made the unforgiveable “thumbed the safety off the Glock” error in a book, and I asked him if readers gave him flak about it. His response? “Every. Damn. Day.”

John Sandford had the same issue once when he’d been using the term “pistol” and decided he wanted to get specific, so he changed it to a Glock, not realizing he’d already had a character releasing the safety. His response? “It was an after-market addition.”

I know darn well I’m clueless about weaponry, so I do my homework before arming my characters.

What about other areas? The current manuscript, Deadly Adversaries, seemed to be throwing roadblocks every time I wrote a scene. Wanting to make sure what I’d written was at least plausible, I asked my specialist sources.

***Note. It’s important to rely on reliable sources if you want to get things right. As Dr. Doug Lyle said in a webinar: Google something you know a lot about, and see how many different explanations you get. The internet can be helpful, but don’t take it as gospel.

Sometimes solutions are easy. If I have a fight scene, I give my martial arts daughter the basics, letting her know who’s fighting, who’s supposed to win, if anyone’s injured, etc. She comes back with the basic choreography and I put it into prose.

Sometimes solutions are not quite so easy. I had a great scenario for immobilizing my victims. I ran it by my medical consultant, and he said, Nothing is impossible but this is as close as it gets. The drug would have to absorb through the skin in very small doses and very quickly. Cyanide and sodium azide can do that but they are both deadly—very quickly. I’d find another way to incapacitate your character.

Back to the drawing board.

In my Blackthorne, Inc. series, which center around a totally made up high-end security and covert ops company, I can give my characters technology, equipment, and just about anything else they need. In and out like the wind is their motto. The scope of plausibility is wide.

Not so with my Mapleton books. They’re contemporary police procedurals at heart, and I want them to be as accurate as possible. To this end, I ran a couple of scenes by my cop consultant. He told me my headlight fragments probably weren’t going to help the cops identify the vehicle involved. Okay, I could work around that.

The next question was about my cops questioning someone in jail. Eye opener here. After some what if this’s and what about that’’? the bottom line: usually what you get at the time of the arrest is the last bite at the apple. So, the information I needed my cops to discover had to come from someone else instead of going to the jail to interview him after he was arrested.

Back to the drawing board again.

The biggest—and most troublesome—stumbling block in this book was that the story played out in numerous jurisdictions. I couldn’t have my cops go to their suspects, or even witnesses, without a local LEO along, or at least notified.

Once they knock on the character’s door, they’re just civilians. Outside of their jurisdiction, they’re not cops. What I’d written was just plain wrong and my decent, play by the rules Mapleton cops would never have done it. If they had, they could have been charged with false imprisonment.

So much for my exciting climactic scene! It would be nothing but paperwork and judges and extraditions. Nothing edge-of-the-seat in those scenarios.

As my cop friend put it, Funny how most people don’t get how complicated the laws make everything.

I went back to the drawing board a lot on these scenes.

By the time we’d had dozens of back-and-forths, and I’d reached a plausible, “that could work” resolution, he said:

I’m laughing. You try to do it right. See how boring Hollywood would have been it they had to keep within that pesky Constitution. It stood in my way many times.

What about you, TKZers? How do you make sure you get things right? Have you ever not realized you thought you knew something and then found out you didn’t? Do you write first, fix later, or research first? Or ignore the issue altogether–it’s fiction, after all.

Cover image of Deadly Relations by Terry OdellAvailable Now
Deadly Relations.
Nothing Ever Happens in Mapleton … Until it Does
Gordon Hepler, Mapleton, Colorado’s Police Chief, is called away from a quiet Sunday with his wife to an emergency situation at the home he’s planning to sell. A man has chained himself to the front porch, threatening to set off an explosive.

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

What Spelling Bee Taught Me About Writing

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“Handle a book as a bee does a flower, extract its sweetness but do not damage it.” –John Muir

* * *

If you haven’t played the NY Times Spelling Bee game, here’s a brief intro:

The game involves making words out of seven letters. I suppose one reason I’m attracted to it is how the game is presented: Each of the seven letters is inside a hexagon-shaped cell. Six of the cells surround a central one, and it all looks like a honeycomb. Clever, eh?

The idea is to make words (at least four letters in length) using the letters. You can use a letter more than once, but you must use the center letter in every word you make. For example, the word “TAUNT” wouldn’t work in the example above because it doesn’t contain the letter G. “GAUNT” would be a good word.

You get one point for a four-letter word. If the word is longer than four letters, you get a point for each letter in the word. If you use all seven letters in a word, you get the number of points for the word plus another seven. It’s called a pangram. In the example above “UNTAGGED” would be a pangram.

As you rack up points, you move up a scale from Beginner to Genius. If you get to the Genius stage, a screen pops up telling you how wonderful you are. If you continue and get every possible word, you achieve Queen Bee status. (Very hard to do without using hints.)

* * *

My husband and I play this game almost every day while we eat lunch. We figure it takes both our brains to get to Genius. In our experience, we usually move up the scale and get one step short of Genius, but getting that last step is hard. Sometimes we make it and other times we don’t. So why am I telling you all this? What does it have to do with writing?

It’s because of a “boys in the basement” pattern that’s developed.

* * *

If we haven’t reached Genius by the time I finish lunch, I’m ready to move on. I may stay around for a few minutes, but I have other things to do. (My husband, on the other hand, will diligently stare at the letters for much longer, and he sometimes gets us to that last step by himself.)

I leave the table and either clean up a little in the kitchen or retire to my office to invent some new disaster to throw at the characters in my WIP. However, in either case, I’ve put the word game out of my mind, and I’m thinking of the next thing on the schedule.

Lately, I’ve noticed a phenomenon that occurs frequently during these “moving on” sessions: As I’m dealing with another item on my to-do list, a word will pop into my mind. It’s not something I was thinking about or trying to come up with. It just appears.

For example, a while back I had stopped working on the puzzle and was putting dishes in the dishwasher when the word “EJECTABLE” popped into my mind. Now that’s not a word I think of very often. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember ever having heard of it before. I wasn’t even sure it was an actual word. I turned to my husband. “Does ‘ejectable’ work in the puzzle?”

Yep. And it was a pangram.

* * *

The process seems to be that I stare at the letters, make words, and keep trying until I’m convinced I’ve made all the words I can possibly make. I walk away, my brain relaxes, and those little neuron pathways that were blocked by my mental overexertion clear up. Then a word slips through and presents itself in tiny little neon letters.

I’ve noticed the same thing happens when I work on a tough crossword puzzle. I’ll get stuck on a clue and can’t find a solution, so I put the puzzle aside. When I return to it the next day, I immediately think of the word I was looking for. If that had happened once or twice, I wouldn’t be mentioning it now. But it happens often enough that I’m wondering how to consistently apply this to writing.

* * *

Is the same process possible as we pound away at developing our stories? Like so many cells in a honeycomb, the answer we’re looking for may be there, but we can’t seem to dig it out. We have to let it come to us.

So TKZers: Do you play word games? What are your favorites? Have you had a similar experience of ideas popping up only after you start another project? Do you deliberately try to use a shift in focus to get those boys in the basement into the game?