Let’s Talk Turkey #WriteTip

I moved into my new place last week. Hence why you haven’t seen me in the comment section. It took two weeks to pack. I’m now unpacking. I found a cozy little abode on the New Hampshire seacoast, near the Massachusetts border. It’s the best of both worlds — two minutes from anything I might need, yet a quiet country setting with plenty of wildlife.

As I gazed out my kitchen window for the first time, five huge male turkeys stood sentinel in the yard. Soon, twenty-five more joined them to socialize, feast, and play. The original five Toms guard the property all day. There’s also an adorable opossum and three albino skunks — stunning all white fur — who come nightly to eat alongside the resident stray cat. All four share the same bowl.

Why can’t humans put aside their differences like animals can?

For my fellow crow lovers out there, a murder of crows arrived on day two. Or Poe and the gang followed me. Sure sounds like Poe’s voice, but I can’t be certain until I set up their feeding spot and take a closer look. My murder has white dots, each in different spots, which helps me tell them apart. Plus, Poe has one droopy wing.

As I watched the five Toms this morning, it reminded me of a post I’d written back in 2017 (time flies on TKZ, doesn’t it?). So, I thought I’d revamp that post a bit, and tweak for our pantser friends.

***

Clare’s recent post got me thinking about craft and how, as we write, the story inflates like a Tom turkey. If you think about it long enough and throw in a looming deadline, Tom Turkey and story structure have a lot in common.

Stay with me. I promise it’ll make sense, but I will ask you to take one small leap of faith — I need you to picture Tom Turkey as the sum of his parts, constructed by craft. And yes, this light bulb blazed on over the Thanksgiving holiday. We are now having spiral ham for Christmas dinner.

But I digress.

Story beats build Tom’s spine. Think of each milestone as vertebrae. Pantsers, let the story unfold as it flows. You can always check the beat placement after the drafting stage.

The ribs that extend from Tom’s spine liken to the equal parts that expand our beats and tell us how our characters should react before, during, and after the quest.

Broken into four equal parts, 25% percent each, this is the dramatic arc. It’s a natural progression that many writers do instinctually. If you want to check your work after the drafting stage, pantsers, the dramatic arc should look like this…

  • Setup (Page 1 – 25% mark): Introduce protagonist, hook the reader, setup First Plot Point through foreshadowing, stakes, and establish empathy (not necessarily likability) for the MC.
  • Response (25% – 50% mark): The MC’s reaction to the new goal/stakes/obstacles revealed by the First Plot Point. MC doesn’t need to be heroic yet. They retreat, regroup, and have doomed attempts at reaching their goal. Also include a reminder of antagonistic forces at work.
  • Attack (50% – 75% mark): Midpoint information/awareness causes the MC to change course in how to approach the obstacles; the hero is now empowered with information on how to proceed, not merely reacting anymore.
  • Resolution (75% – The End): MC summons the courage, inner strength, and growth to find a solution to overcome inner obstacles and conquer the antagonistic force. All new information must have been referenced, foreshadowed, or already in play by 2nd Plot Point or we’re guilty of deus ex machina.

Tom Turkey is beginning to take shape.

Characterization adds meat to his bones, and conflict-driven sub-plots supply tendons and ligaments. When we layer in dramatic tension in the form of a need, goal, quest, and challenges to overcome, Tom’s skin forms and thickens.

With obstacle after obstacle, and inner and outer conflict, Tom strengthens enough to sprout feathers. At the micro-level, MRUs (Motivation-Reaction-Units) — for every action there’s a reaction — establish our story rhythm and pace. They also help heighten and maintain suspense. If you remember every action has a reaction, MRUs come naturally to many writers. Still good to check on the first read through.

MRUs fluff Tom Turkey’s feathers. He even grew a beak!

Providing a vicarious experience, our emotions splashed across the page, makes Tom fan his tail-feathers. The rising stakes add to Tom’s glee (he’s a sadist), and he prances for a potential mate. He believes he’s ready to score with the ladies. Tom may actually get lucky this year.

Then again, we know better. Don’t we, dear writers? Poor Tom is still missing a few crucial elements to close the deal.

By structuring our scenes — don’t groan, pantsers! — Tom grew an impressive snood. See it dangling over his beak? The wattle under his chin needs help, though. Hens are shallow creatures. 😉 Quick! We need a narrative structure.

Narrative structure refers to the way in which a story is organized and presented to the reader. It includes the plot, subplot, characters, setting, and theme, as well as techniques and devices used by the author to convey these elements.

Now, Tom looks sharp. What an impressive bird. Watch him prance, full and fluffy, head held high, tail feathers fanned in perfect formation.

Uh-oh. Joe Hunter sets Tom in his rifle scope. We can’t let him die before he finds a mate! But how can we save him? We’ve already given him all the tools he needs, right?

Well, not quite.

Did we choose the right point of view to tell our story? If we didn’t, Tom could wind up on a holiday table surrounded by drooling humans in bibs. We can’t let that happen! Nor can we afford to lose the reader before we get a chance to dazzle ’em.

Tom needs extra oomph — aka Voice. Without it, Joe Hunter will murder poor Tom.

Voice is an elusive beast for new writers because it develops over time. To quote JSB:

It comes from knowing each character intimately and writing with the “voice” that is a combo of character and author and craft on the page.

That added oomph makes your story special. No one can write like you. No one. Remember that when self-doubt or imposter syndrome creeps in.

If Tom hopes to escape Joe Hunter’s bullet, he needs wings in the form of context. Did we veer outside readers’ expectations for the genre we’re writing in? Did we give Tom a heart and soul by subtly infusing theme? Can we boil down the plot to its core story, Tom’s innards? What about dialogue? Does Tom gobble or quack?

Have we shown the three dimensions of character to add oxygen to Tom’s lungs? You wouldn’t want to be responsible for suffocating Tom to death, would you?

  • 1st Dimension of Character: The best version of who they are; the face the character shows to the world
  • 2nd Dimension of Character:  The person a character shows to friends and family
  • 3rd Dimension of Character:  The character’s true character. If a fire breaks out in a crowded theater, will they help others or elbow their way to the exit?

Lastly, Tom needs a way to wow the ladies. Better make sure our prose sings. If we don’t, Tom might die of loneliness. Do we really want to be responsible for that? To be safe, let’s review our word choices, sentence variations, paragraphing, white space, grammar, and how we string words together to ensure Tom lives a full and fruitful life.

Don’t forget to rewrite and edit. If readers love Tom, he and his new mate may bring chicks (sequels or prequels) into the world, and we, as Tom’s creator, have the honor of helping them flourish into full-fledged turkeys.

Aww… Tom’s story has a happy ending now. Good job, writers!

For fun, choose a name for Tom’s mate. Winner gets bragging rights.

Should You Write a Prequel?

When Dexter: Original Sin came out, I had my doubts. The ending of Dexter: New Blood left a bad taste in my mouth (I won’t spoil it for you).

Jeff Lindsay isn’t to blame for that. New Blood and Original Sin are based on the characters from Lindsay’s long-standing series but don’t have a direct novel equivalent. The television franchise creator, Clyde Phillips, made changes to the story for the show.

Dexter: Original Sin is also a prequel that shows Dexter’s early years… how his father created “the code” to keep his “dark passenger” under control, his internship at Miami Metro Police Department, and his first kill.

Without basing the prequel on a Lindsay novel, I was more than a little reluctant to watch it. But I love Dexter! Which is a great reason to write a prequel. If you have a beloved character, readers might be interested in their early years.

Upside of Prequels

Character depth: Write a prequel to show the origin story of a beloved character or cast to explain their motivation and how they became who they are in the original series.

World-building: Write a prequel to provide a deeper look into the world before the main events i.e., history, politics, culture, etc.

Fresh perspectives: Write a prequel to showcase lesser-known characters and their perspectives.

Downside of Prequels

Unnecessary recap: Don’t write a prequel to rehash plot points from one of the original novels or the series as a whole.

Disappointing character portrayals: Don’t write a prequel to capture the essence of an established character or cast, or you’ll risk undoing all the characterization in the series.

Quality: If you don’t believe the prequel can live up to the high standards of the series, write something else.

The last thing you want is for readers to think:

  • “Was the prequel necessary?”
  • “Meh. It was okay, not nearly as good as the original novels.”
  • “What did I just read? I feel tricked, like everything I believed was a lie.”
  • Or the fatal blow: “Doubt I’ll even buy the next book in the series now.”

Too many franchises use prequels to pad the bank account, and few live up to the original series. While it may be fun for readers/viewers to revisit the characters and story world they love, too often prequels fall flat. Either they’re filled with inconsistencies in characterization, or they attempt to skew previous storylines to fit the new narrative.

Neither apply to Dexter: Original Sin.

Phillips did a masterful job of showing Dexter’s early years. A young actor named Patrick Gibson plays Dexter, but Michael C. Hall — whom we all grew to love in the original television series — narrates Dexter Morgan’s inner voice. Genius! The main reason I waited to watch the show was because, in my opinion, no other actor could play Dexter Morgan. ’Course, I never thought anyone could play a believable Hannibal Lecter, either, but Mads Mikkelsen proved me wrong.

From the first episode of Dexter: Original Sin, the screenwriter captivated me with how he portrayed the origin story. Let’s look at everything he did right.

In the first five episodes, Phillips never tried to change the character of Dexter Morgan. Instead, he merely filled in the blanks of what we missed in the original series. Patrick Gibson (young Dexter) didn’t overplay his role. The trailer misled me by zooming in on young Dexter’s evil expression — and not in a good way — when in fact, 20-year-old Dexter is simply learning to deal with the duality within him.

  • He knows he’s different from other people.
  • He questions why he’s different.
  • He fights the desires of his “dark passenger.”

Conflict, conflict, and more conflict.

Discussions between Dexter and Harry Morgan turn almost heartwarming. Regardless of subject matter, the love between a father and his adopted son shines through. They’re doing the best they can under impossible circumstances.

As a homicide sergeant at Miami Metro PD, Harry taught Dexter “the code” shown via flashbacks in the original series.

For years, Dexter believed Harry created the code, but in season eight of the original series, we learned he had help. Dr. Evelyn Vogel, a neuropsychiatrist who specializes in the treatment of psychopaths, noticed Dexter had psychopathic tendencies as a child. So, she and Harry developed the Code of Harry as a way for Dexter to safely satisfy his needs and help rid society of dangerous predators.

Dexter: Original Sin provides an in-depth look at the code in real time, as the prequel takes place fifteen years before the original series.

Code of Harry

  1. Don’t get caught.
  2. Never kill an innocent.
  3. Targets must be killers who have evaded the justice system.
  4. Killing must serve a purpose. Otherwise, it’s just plain murder.
  5. Blend in socially to maintain appearances.
  6. Fake emotions and normality.
  7. Control and channel the urge to kill.
  8. Be prepared. Leave no trace or evidence.
  9. Never make a [public] scene. Stay calm and collected.
  10. Don’t make things personal because it clouds judgment.
  11. Don’t get emotionally involved.
  12. No preemptive killing.

The prequel never tries to rewrite the well-established Code of Harry. Instead, Phillips shows mistakes by both Harry and Dexter as they attempt to navigate their new normal. We also see Dexter’s first kill, which broke several rules for a valid reason, and learn more about Dexter’s birth mother and her relationship with Harry.

Dexter: Original Sin succeeds because it enhances Lindsay’s original series. And that may be the best reason of all to write a prequel. Otherwise, writer beware — penning a decent prequel is not an easy endeavor.

Have you ever considered writing a prequel? 

If you’ve written a prequel, what was your deciding factor? What did you hope to achieve? How did readers respond?

Have you read a prequel that blew you away?

What prequel failed to meet your expectations, and why?

Character Based Transitions

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.”

What is Your Character’s Wounding Event?

Characters need personal growth to achieve their goals. If the character seeks to improve themselves in some way — at work, in relationships, or spiritually — or defeat the villain, their fatal flaw will often sabotage early efforts.

Who they are and what they want is at odds with their fatal flaw, which makes it almost impossible to succeed. The character might not even realize they have this flaw until a situation, experience, or event triggers a tsunami of inner turmoil.

Fatal Flaw Defined

A fatal flaw refers to a character trait that leads to their downfall. The term fatal flaw implies the character is heroic and admirable in many other ways. Even the fatal flaw itself could be considered admirable in a different situation but it hinders them in the storyline.

The TKZ archive has several articles about character flaws (here, here, and here, to name a few).

But where does their fatal flaw stem from?

Often, the past is to blame. It doesn’t necessarily need to be from the character’s childhood, though it can be. Was the character abandoned as a child, emotionally, physically, or both? If so, they’d deal with abandonment and/or trust issues as an adult. Or perhaps, their fatal flaw stems from the opening scene in the novel.

What happened to the character to create the inner turmoil within them? We call this the “wounding event,” and it’s crucial to understand the character on an emotional level.

Many factors play a role in determining who we — and our characters — become in life, including environment, mentors/teachers, parents, genetics, and how they were raised. Life is filled with flawed people, all battling their own demons, some more than others. Specific events and long-term exposure to unhealthy ideals, behaviors, and relationships all play a role in shaping a human or fictional character.

The Wounding Event

The most crippling is emotional trauma. Unresolved pain — the wounding event — should impact the character’s life. This defining emotional experience from a character’s past is so debilitating they’ll do anything to avoid that pain again. It colors how they view the world and alters what they believe about themselves and others. The trauma instills a deep fear that it may happen again if the character doesn’t protect themselves.

Or perhaps, your character has a physical defect with long-lasting psychological effects, such as a crippling illness, birth defect, scarring, or disfigurement. The mistaken belief that the character must harden themselves to feel emotionally safe is what allows negative traits to emerge.

The wounding event creates a core belief or insecurity that manifests as a character flaw, causing them to act defensively or in self-sabotaging ways to avoid reliving the pain. The wounding event also refers to a traumatic experience that significantly impacts the character’s psychology and development, or a set of deeply ingrained fears that shape how they interact with the world. It’s the pivotal moment that created the underlying emotional wound that drives their behavior.

Whatever wounding event you choose when crafting a character, it should be hinted at or shown on the page. This will help the reader relate to, and empathize with, the character. It’ll also explain their actions.

At some point in the novel, the character must face their fears — an important scene in the character arc is about confronting and healing from their wounding event.

The ideal placement is about the midpoint. This confrontation within themselves gives the character the inner strength to overcome their fatal flaw and spins the story in a new direction, with a clearer perspective on how to proceed. Or they figure out how to use their fatal flaw to their advantage “through a vein of moral rightness,” as JSB said in an article about character.

Sounds a lot like the mirror moment, doesn’t it? 😉

Secondary flaws can also arise from the wounding event, which will compromise the character’s path and prevent them from reaching their full potential.

Wounds are powerful. Taking the time to probe your character’s past to unearth their wounding event will help you — and the reader — better understand what motivates them and their behavior.

For discussion, what fictional wounding event has stuck with you? To avoid spoilers, only include the title if the wounding event occurs early in the novel.

Or tell us about your character’s wounding event and the fatal flaw that followed.

Does Your Story Have a Full Circle Moment?

A full circle moment occurs when life provides clarity about the past.

The journey begins with an often harrowing event, we endure trials and tribulations along the way, then end up right where we started.

Only now, we have the wisdom of life experience and personal growth to view the past from a new perspective.

Have you experienced a full circle moment in your life?

I’m living one right now. As I mentioned before, I grew up in Massachusetts. When I moved to New Hampshire, I said I’d never return, that no one could pay me to live there again. And that remained my mindset for decades. But now, after a series of difficult personal experiences and a new, enlightened perspective, I plan to move back to Massachusetts. Everything about my decision feels right — it feels like I’ve finally found my way home.

If I were to write my life story one day, the jangle of the key in the lock of my new home would become a powerful full circle moment in the book.

A full circle moment completes the character arc.

Story Circle

Dan Harmon is the mastermind behind the Story Circle. Currently an executive producer at Rick and Morty, he also created and ran the NBC show Community. Dan consolidated Joseph Campbell’s classic Hero’s Journey from 17+ steps into a more contemporary set of 8, each with a punchy one-word descriptor that makes them easy to remember.

Please ignore my lame attempt at drawing a straight line with a mouse. 😀

click to enlarge

YOU: A compelling main character (YOU) has a problem.

NEED: YOU have a need.

YOU want something. YOU are not satisfied with a ho-hum lifestyle. Either this desire stems from an internal NEED before the inciting incident, or something or someone comes along to awaken the desire within YOU.

GO: YOU cross the threshold into an adventure.

YOU have packed your bags to search for a brighter tomorrow. Not only are YOU ready to GO but you’re going no matter what. No one can stop YOU. The NEED is too strong to ignore.

SEARCH: YOU find the answer to your problem.

Mission accomplished. Or is it?

YOU land in a new country and don’t speak the language, nor are YOU familiar with the culture.

Let’s see what YOU are made of. Will YOU adapt? Or fall apart? Perhaps a little of both.

FIND: Things are not how they appear.

This is a major threshold the character must cross, one that spins the story in a new direction. The protagonist has come this far. There’s no turning back. YOU must do everything within your power to fight to fulfill your NEED.

TAKE: But there’s always a price to pay.

How badly do YOU want it? This is where we see how steep of a price the protagonist is willing to pay to get what they NEED.

In this part of the story, the protagonist comes face-to-face with the villain and dangerously close to death, real or internal. The climax is the culmination of everything YOU have been fighting for since the beginning.

RETURN: After YOU slay the metaphorical (or real) dragon, YOU RETURN to the ordinary world.

YOU have fulfilled your NEED, defeated the villain, learned something about yourself, and are ready to RETURN home. In a romcom, it’s here where the hero races to the airport to prevent his soulmate from boarding the plane. In a thriller, the protagonist has defeated the villain and must RETURN home, even if there’s more danger in the near future.

CHANGE: The journey has changed YOU, for better or worse.

YOU are not the same person YOU were before. Are YOU wiser? Better prepared for the unexpected? Or more cautious, even paranoid? How has the journey changed YOU?

Wizard of Oz — Story Circle Example 

YOU: Dorothy is in the black-and-white world, dreaming (in song) about traveling over the rainbow rather than stay in Kansas.

NEED: A twister dumps Dorothy’s house in a colorful town square. No longer in a black-and-white world, she enters a land of technicolor and NEEDs to adapt to a new and unfamiliar place.

GO: When Dorothy first lands in Oz, she doesn’t know where she is or how she got there. Soon, she realizes she’s “over the rainbow” and her NEED now is to get home. The only way to do that is to journey to see the great and powerful Oz. She also must stay on the yellow brick road and watch out for the Wicked Witch of the West. But she must go. The NEED to GO home is too great. Dorothy begins her adventure.

SEARCH: With advice from Glinda, the Good Witch of the North*, and her ruby red slippers, Dorothy and Toto follow the yellow brick road toward the great unknown. For the first few steps, she literally focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until she moves farther down the road.

Along the way she encounters the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion. She also endures conflict and obstacles — facing her fears, traversing through the forest, and finding a way to meet the great and powerful Oz.

*In the original novel Glinda is the Good Witch of the South, but I used “North” from the 1939 film adaptation because it’s more well-known.

FIND: The Emerald City is finally within sight. Dorothy believes the field of poppies is a beautiful and faster way to get there. But all is not how it appears. To steal the ruby red slippers, the Wicked Witch of the West has placed a field of magical sleep-inducing poppies on the outskirts of the city, and Dorothy and Toto fall into a deep slumber.

This scene is a beautiful example of the fifth stage of the Story Circle that hints at the darkness that creeps within us all, even more so when we set out to make our dreams a reality.

TAKE: The Wicked Witch of the West sends her band of flying monkeys to bring Dorothy and her friends to the castle. But the flying monkeys can’t harm Dorothy because she wears the mark of the Good Witch of the North on her forehead. Dorothy is forced to choose between her magic slippers and Toto, whom the Wicked Witch threatens to drown if Dorothy refuses to comply.

When the Wicked Witch torches the Scarecrow, his straw is set on fire. Dorothy tosses a bucket of water to help her friend but also wets the Wicked Witch, who melts into a puddle on the floor.

Dorothy’s victory shows the reader/viewer she has the inner strength to complete her quest.

RETURN: Dorothy discovers the wizard is a fraud. But luckily, there’s still a way to get home. The answer has been on Dorothy’s feet the entire time. She clicks her heels three times and repeats, “There’s no place like home.”

CHANGE: Dorothy realizes her home and family are the most valuable treasures on earth. She’s no longer the dreamy girl who wishes to leave Kansas. She’s grateful for what she has and finds happiness in the simple things.

She is transformed. And it’s a powerful full circle moment.

Have you experienced a full circle moment in your life? Tell us about it. Or share your favorite full circle moment from a book or movie.

Are you familiar with the Story Circle? Pantser or plotter, it’s an easy way to test your character arc.

Thank you to all our military men and women for your service. Happy Veterans Day!

Please note: I’m on the road today, so I may not be available to respond to comments right away.

The Chronology of Story: Foreshadowing

“Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

* * *

 As we all know, stories are the recollection of events that happen through time. In January, I posted an article on flashbacks in story-telling. Today, I’d like to go in the other direction with foreshadowing.

* * *

To begin, let’s look at the difference between flash forward and foreshadowing.

A flash forward takes the reader to a point in the future. A good example is Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol where Ebenezer Scrooge is taken into the future by a ghost to show him what will happen after his death if he doesn’t change his ways.

* * *

But foreshadowing is different, and despite what Hawthorne said, a shadow may indicate events to come.

According to masterclass.com,

“Foreshadowing is a literary device used to give an indication or hint of what is to come later in the story. Foreshadowing is useful for creating suspense, a feeling of unease, a sense of curiosity, or a mark that things may not be as they seem.”

Foreshadowing may be direct or indirect.

* * *

Direct Foreshadowing overtly states an upcoming event or twist in the story.

For example, the prologue of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet specifically states that the two lovers will die in the story:

“From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Do with their death bury their parents’ strife.”

 

Another example of this straight-forward form of foreshadowing is when the author simply makes a statement about the future.

I recently read the novel Tom Lake by Ann Patchett where the first-person narrator recounts to her three daughters the story of her love affair with a famous actor. Late in the book, the narrator explains to the reader that she has told all of her past to her children – well, almost all. “And I am done, except for this: I saw Duke one other time, and of that time I will say nothing to my girls.” So the reader knows that an event which is explained in detail to the reader will not be related to other characters in the book. (Sort of a negative foreshadowing.)

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Indirect Foreshadowing is a more subtle way of hinting at future events or outcomes in the story.

 

“If you say in the first act that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third act it absolutely must go off.” –Anton Chekhov

 

 

 

 

In To Kill a Mockingbird, Atticus talks to Jem about courage after the death of Mrs. Dubose.

“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.”

That conversation foreshadowed Atticus’s own courage in defending Tom Robinson.

In an early chapter of Tom Lake, the first-person narrator betrays her best friend by stealing the other girl’s boyfriend. That event foreshadows a similar betrayal later in the book when the same thing happens to the protagonist.

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So TKZers: Do you think foreshadowing is a useful device in novel writing? Have you used foreshadowing in your novels? Can you think of any examples in stories you’ve read?

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Private pilot Cassie Deakin declares her distrust of handsome men in the first paragraph of Lacey’s Star. That statement foreshadows her flawed decisions on trust throughout the book and almost gets her killed.

Available at  AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboGoogle Play, or Apple Books.

#WriteTip: To Fix a Scene, Sniff Out the Tick

Not her, but she wore a similar expression.

Last weekend, I was lovin’ on an adorable Chihuahua/Fox Terrier when I spotted an abscess under her left eye. She’s a little furball. The abscess hid under a mess of blonde curls.

When I brought the problem to her human’s attention, we discussed possible reasons for it. Did she scratch herself? Why was she scratching? Do her eyes itch? If so, why? Or did she accidentally catch the skin with her nail while cleaning her face?

Over the years, I’ve treated many abscesses on friends’ animals. For some reason, they all call me when something’s wrong with their furbabies. I’m not a vet, but some problems are easy fixes that don’t require dishing out hundreds of dollars and leaving the furbaby in distress while they wait for an appointment.

Like we did with the dog, if a scene in the WIP feels off in some way, we need to acknowledge there’s a problem. Only then can we gain enough clarity to fix it.

The first step in treating an abscess is to find the root cause. When we examined her eye, we found a dead tick attached to the inside rim of her lower eyelid. The rubbing of the tick against her eyeball caused her to scratch while her human was at work. We also found a small red mark in the corner of the abscess from her nail(s).

The first step to fix a scene is to find the root cause. Why doesn’t the scene work? Is the pacing off? Does it lack tension/conflict? Are there no obstacles to overcome? Does each character have a scene goal? If so, what are they? How does the scene advance the plot?

Once we removed the tick, we treated the abscess by applying hot compresses. Heat loosens the pocket of infection and relaxes the skin. The goal is to let the existing wound open on its own.

When examining a scene, go slow and sniff out the problem. First, look at the structure. Does it follow the micro-beats of scene and sequel?

SCENE

Goal: What does the POV character want? If you don’t know, that could be the problem. The character’s goal must be clear from the start, even to the reader.

Conflict: What are the obstacles standing in the way of the character reaching their goal? Obstacles can be external or internal. If there aren’t any, you’ve identified the problem.

Disaster: Even if your character overcomes the conflict, your job is to make things worse. Ideally, the scene should roll into the sequel with the feeling of, “Oh, no! Now what?”

SEQUEL

Reaction: How does your character react to the scene disaster?

A well-crafted sequel clues the reader into the character’s internal journey, presents a compelling dilemma, and ends with the character setting a new goal. Sequels are where major decisions, reversals, and growth happens. They set up the character’s next move.

Dilemma: The dilemma is the problem your character faces because of the scene disaster. Make sure your character has no good options, or at least they can’t see a way out of the tricky situation they’re in. If the sequel lacks a dilemma, it’ll destroy the structure because the choice they make leads to the next micro-story beat.

Decision: How will they deal with the new dilemma? The decision often becomes the goal of the next scene. If they have no idea what to do, you at least need some sort of decision here, even if they choose to retreat.

Also not her, but same happy mood.

After a few rounds of hot compresses, blood and puss drained from the abscess. The inner lid where we removed the dead tick stopped bleeding, the skin relaxed into place, and the wound under her eye sealed closed.

No one was more relieved than the sweet, little furbaby. We accepted payment in the form of kisses, tail wags, and happy prances.

The next time a scene in the WIP doesn’t work, search for the tick. It’s hiding in there somewhere.

Editing Tricks of the Trade

Editing Tricks of the Trade
Terry Odell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

marked up manuscript printed in 2 columns

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

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

Trick #5 – Read from start to finish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

New! Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings.


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

Choosing A Unique (But Fitting) Talent for Your Character

I’m traveling today, so I invited the uber-talented Becca Puglisi to fill in for me. Don’t be shy in leaving her comments. I’ll join you tomorrow when I return from vacation. Enjoy!

I truly believe that excellent stories require excellent characters. And with so many books already out there—4 million published in the US in 2022 alone—we’ve got to be able to deliver compelling and realistic characters to set our stories apart. How do we do it? By focusing on the details. And one of the markers that can really boost individuality and memorability for a character is their particular talents or skills.

Every person has something they’re good at. Sometimes it’s a gift they’re born with that comes naturally; for others, it’s a carefully nurtured and honed ability. Many times, a character’s talent says something about who they are: it may tie into their belief system, meet a missing need, honor an influential person in their life, or reveal associated personality traits.

But despite the many talents and skills out there, we tend to see the same ones in books all the time. Now, if your story requires your character have a certain ability, that’s fine; sometimes, we don’t get to choose their special abilities. But if you’ve got more latitude, consider one of the following techniques for coming up with a skill that’s a little more original.

Go for Something Unusual

Sometimes it’s as easy as thinking beyond the obvious options. Instead of being a strong runner or artist, maybe your character could have a talent that’s a little less mainstream, like sleight of hand, lip-reading, or a knack for languages. Do you need them to be an athlete? Consider a sport readers haven’t seen a million times, like cricket, curling, water polo, or parkour. Your skilled forager could be urban rather than rural, fishing goodies out storm drains or dumpsters.

If you’re writing in a genre with fantastical elements, you can get really creative by giving your character an extrasensory ability or something that’s specific to your fantasy or paranormal world. Their skill will obviously have to work within the overall story and the world you’ve created, but you have more choices than you know, so don’t be afraid to branch out and try something new.

Encourage Your Character to Specialize

One way to come up with an unusual ability is to take a popular one and make it more specific. If your character is mechanically inclined, they may be particularly adept with machines from a certain region, time period, or industry. A marksman might specialize in one weapon, and maybe it’s not the typical rifle (Crossbow? Darts? Slingshot?). Your assassin may prefer to work with and have extensive knowledge of poisons. Breathe new life into a ho-hum strength by narrowing the focus.

Give a Common Talent a Twist

It’s not always necessary to reinvent the wheel; often, you can come up with something new by tweaking a popular talent. If musicality is your character’s thing, don’t make her a singer or piano player; maybe she really shines by writing music or crafting certain instruments. A character’s photographic memory may only be reliable for a few hours after events have happened. A person who blows off steam by knitting might use their talent to create blankets for preemies or hats for the homeless. In the latter case, the talent can also hint at personality traits (empathy, selflessness, generosity), hobbies, or other areas of passion.

We get more bang for the buck when our characterization and description elements do double duty, so if a character’s skill can also say something about who they are, that’s a bonus for readers.

Pair It with an Unexpected Personality Trait

Many skills are associated with certain traits because they often go together. For instance, people who are good with numbers are usually pretty analytical. But that doesn’t mean the two have to go together. A character with this ability could be highly creative or emotional, instead, and you’d end up with someone unexpected. Likewise, you could have a gifted public speaker who is painfully shy, stumbling their way through one-on-one conversations. This trick can be especially helpful when your story requires a common talent; get creative with your character’s traits, instead, and you can come up with something new that will pique readers’ interests.

In conclusion, an area of skill is a great way to individualize a character—but remember that it can’t be random. There are reasons people embrace and nurture certain talents. They come from somewhere: a natural aptitude, a shared passion with a loved one, the desire for approval or acceptance, etc. So a special ability shouldn’t be chosen at random. Always know the why behind it. Once you’ve ensured it ties naturally into their overall character profile, use these suggestions to take a character’s talent or skill to the next level.

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and other resources for writers. Her books have sold over 1 million copies and are available in multiple languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world.

She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online resource for authors that’s home to the Character Builder and Storyteller’s Roadmap tools.

 

The Deuteragonist

Deuteragonist – noun — the actor next in importance to the protagonist.

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We all know what a protagonist and an antagonist are, but I had never heard the word “deuteragonist” until a few months ago. It comes from the Greek word “deuteros,” meaning “second.” But a deuteragonist is not just a secondary character, he/she is the secondary character.

Wikipedia tells us that ancient Greek drama originally had only one actor, the protagonist, and a group of dancers, the chorus. But then the playwright Aeschylus introduced a second character, the deuteragonist, in his plays.

Aristotle explained it in his work Poetics.

“Thus, it was Aeschylus who first raised the number of the actors from one to two. He also curtailed the chorus and made the dialogue be the leading part.”

So we can thank Aeschylus, who lived 2500 years ago, for the addition of the second character in drama, an innovation which enabled dialogue and conflict.

* * *

“The more complex you make your secondary characters, the more lifelike and involving your story will be.” –Donald Maass

So how is the deuteragonist different from the other secondary characters in today’s fiction?

According to studiobinder.com

“A deuteragonist is the second most important character in a story. This person is also known as the ‘secondary main character.’ While the protagonist gives us our primary point of view of the story, the deuteragonist often provides a different, but often similar, outlook.”

* * *

The deuteragonist can serve different purposes, depending on the author’s goals. But whatever role the deuteragonist plays, he/she should complement the protagonist  in a way that affects the main character’s arc in the story.

 

One possibility is as a supporter, friend, or assistant to the protagonist. Dr. Watson is a famous example of this type of deuteragonist in the Sherlock Holmes books. Watson not only narrates the stories, his gentlemanly compassion contrasts nicely with the purely logical Holmes.

 

 

The deuteragonist can also be a love interest. An example of this could be from the movie “Titanic” where Jack Dawson (Leonardo DeCaprio) plays the main secondary to Rose (Kate Winslet). In the movie, Jack shows Rose there is more to life than the suffocating high society she’s being forced into.

 

 

Villains are always useful in helping protagonists overcome their shortcomings and face down danger. An example of this was the film “Die Hard” where the protagonist John McClane (Bruce Willis) matches wits with the villainous deuteragonist Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman.)

So there you have it. A deuteragonist can add spice and complexity to a story while enhancing the protagonist’s character arc.

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“The three things that matter most in a story are characters, characters and characters.” –Bob Gale

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So TKZers: Are there deuteragonists that you like from books or films? Have you used a deuteragonist in any of your stories? Do you plan to? Tell us about them.

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Protagonist Kathryn Frasier trains for a marathon, deuteragonist Cece Goldman rehearses for a play, and antagonist murderers hide in plain sight in The Watch Mysteries, an ebook boxset of three complete novels available at AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboGoogle Play, or Apple Books. (Today is the last day of the 99¢ sale.)