Tag Archives: writing craft

Yet More Short Story Words of Wisdom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There must have been public hangings easier to watch.

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

He died. 

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

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

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

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

“Hills Like White Elephants,” Ernest Hemingway

“Soldier’s Home,” Ernest Hemingway

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

“A Word to Scoffers,” William Saroyan

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

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

“Chapter and Verse,” Jeffery Deaver

James Scott Bell—February 7, 2010

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reavis Wortham—April 12, 2025

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Gilstrap—August 20, 2025

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

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

***

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

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

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

Your Antagonist’s Response to Fear

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When we think of fear as a response, we often think of the protagonist. Well-rounded villain’s also feel fear. Rarely discussed but equally important. Please help me welcome back our friend, Becca Puglisi, to discuss just that. And look — a new book in the Emotional Thesaurus series! This series rocks. IMO, it belongs on every writer’s bookshelf. Welcome, Becca!

When we talk about debilitating fears in storytelling, the focus is mostly on how it impacts the protagonist. We build stories around their fear—the way it binds and constricts them, how they gradually become aware of it, and their journey to eventually facing and defeating it. This process is essentially a change arc, and it applies to most protagonists.

But we don’t often talk about fear’s impact on antagonists. And we should, because fear is also limiting, motivating, and transformative for these characters.

What’s interesting, though, is the antagonist’s relationship with and response to fear isn’t like a protagonist’s at all. Villains and other adversaries will claim they’re impervious to fear, but this just isn’t true. Everyone feels fear, and characters who deny it are wearing a mask that shows them as strong, powerful, and in control. It’s often their refusal to remove that mask that ultimately leads to their undoing.

So let’s look at how protagonists and antagonists differ in their treatment of this universal emotion.

The Protagonist’s Fear Arc

These characters are often aware of their greatest fear because it’s kept close via emotional shielding, like a thick cloak they pull around themselves. The material is heavy and restrictive but functions as a constant reminder that threats are always near and something to be wary of.

At some point in the story, though, the protagonist’s shoulders begin to ache. They feel encumbered and overheated. They’re limited by the cloak’s weight, forced to give up opportunities too difficult or risky to tackle in their state.

One day it hits them that they’re unhappy, and if they didn’t have this burden, they might feel lighter and find it easier to get around. It’s not easy, but they make the choice to let the cloak fall, even though it exposes them. They understand that while life contains danger and emotional risk, letting go of fear leads to freedom, self-empowerment, and joy.

The fear pattern for protagonists: Fear starts as protection, but the character soon learns it’s also limiting. Deep unhappiness from unmet needs forces awareness. The character chooses to be vulnerable and cast aside fear so growth can occur.

The Antagonist’s Fear Arc

For antagonists, much is the same. The weight of their fear is just as heavy, and they wear the cloak for the same reason their counterparts do. But when their unhappiness surfaces, they become resentful and angry that what they want is out of reach. Rather than remove their cloak, they cinch it tighter and continue to manipulate situations, control people, and steal power to achieve their goals. Their inability to let go of their fear and accept emotional risk as a part of life ultimately destroys them.

The fear pattern for antagonists: Fear begins as protection, but it also limits. Unhappiness and unmet needs spark resentment. The character clings to fear for a sense of control, but it makes them weaker and imprisons them, resulting in failure.

This is how fear causes an antagonist to perceive events and people differently than a protagonist, leading to vastly disparate actions and choices. We see this at work when we compare the hero and villain from Stephen King’s Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption (spoilers ahead).

In 1947, banker Andy Dufresne is framed for his wife’s murder and lands in Shawshank State Prison. Everyone and everything there is controlled by Samuel Norton, a corrupt religious fanatic who believes harsh discipline is the way to inmate salvation. The irony is that the warden uses his position to commit a host of crimes. He takes a shine to Andy for his banking and accounting knowledge and uses him to embezzle money and commit tax fraud. As warden, he’s the king, and his greatest fear is losing his power and control.

Andy is determined to prove his innocence, but he’s repeatedly victimized in the brutal prison system. He earns protection when the warden realizes what Andy can do for him, but this means trading one form of pain for another, since Andy’s fate now depends on protecting the warden and hiding his criminal activities. Along the way, Andy’s greatest fear develops: becoming institutionalized and losing all sense of himself and the will to fight for his innocence.

Andy and the warden handle their fear in different ways. Andy pushes against fear by holding onto hope that he will eventually be free. He finds small joys to sustain him—reading, carving, building a library for the inmates, encouraging higher education, and planning his escape. The warden feeds his own fear by using intimidation and violence to run the prison and force Andy to help hide his crimes. From his position of authority, he consolidates power and deploys cruelty, even murder, to neutralize threats.

Andy is innocent, and the warden knows it. But once he declares that he’ll never let Andy go, Andy knows it’s time to “get busy living or get busy dying.” If he doesn’t escape, he’ll never leave Shawshank, and his hope will die with him.

Andy uses the tunnel he’s been digging for over a decade to get away, but not before stealing the warden’s ledger. Once free, he sends evidence of the warden’s activities to the authorities, who come for him at Shawshank. Rather than face accountability for his crimes, the warden ends his life.

These two characters are bookends, one using the fear of hopelessness to push him to risk everything and gain freedom, and the other using a fear of exposure to push him to do anything to hoard power and control. Fear impacts both characters the same way, but they respond to it differently.

Common Antagonistic Responses to Fear

Just like every protagonist is unique, the same is true of villains, which means they each will react to fear in their own way. Here are some ways an antagonist driven by a deep fear may respond.

· Never becoming aware of it

· Actively refusing to acknowledge it

· Accepting it as something beneficial that should be nurtured

· Using unacceptable or unethical methods to keep their biggest fear from being realized

· Redefining their moral code as needed to keep their worst fear from happening

· Weaponizing other people’s fears against them

A hero is only as strong as the antagonist standing in their way. To make that adversary truly formidable, ask yourself: What’s motivating them? Why do they do the things they do? How will they respond to fear in general but also when confronted with a deeply personal fear? The answers to questions like these will help you build an antagonist who is powerful and authentic, requiring the hero to be strong enough to face and overcome them.

For more information about the universal nature of fear and its individual impact on characters, check out The Fear Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to What Holds Characters Back.

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and best-selling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and other resources for writers. Her books have sold over 1.4 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.

When You’re Right, You’re Still Wrong

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When You’re Right, You’re Still Wrong,
Terry Odell

top of a bald man's head

I’ve been dealing with writing stuff I know little about recently, and I’ve turned to reliable sources for research. As so often happens, I end up relying on “It’s FICTION” as I write. My philosophy is it has to be plausible for the situation.

This brought to mind something from years and books ago. I had written the following:

Touching base about the accident. I noticed a couple of units pulling away from the scene not long ago. Wondered if you had anything you could share. The Yardumians are concerned about the missing woman. Told them I’d see where things stand.” Okay, so that was a boldfaced lie. But he figured the Yardumians were concerned, and if they’d asked him to, he’d have called.

When my critique partners got their eyes on it, one suggested either barefaced or bald-faced, which he thought were the “right” usages.

I’d thought I’d used a correct term, so I looked it up. I discovered all 3 usages could be considered correct. (You might like to read the article for yourself.) Curious, I posed the question on my Facebook page, and a short time later, I’d had over 1000 views of that post, and over 40 comments. (To put this in perspective, if I get 150 views of a post, and a dozen comments, that’s a lot.) Granted, Facebook isn’t a scientific sample by any means, but I found the results worth thinking about. It wasn’t the number of hits that was of interest to me, or the number of comments—rather, it was that there was no consensus. Boldfaced and Bald-faced were almost tied with 18 and 16 “votes” respectively, while Barefaced had 7 people saying that’s what they were used to hearing.

What does this mean for a writer? Clearly, no matter which term I used, there would be a whole lot of readers who thought I got it “wrong.” And, as my first critique group used to say, “Just because it’s right doesn’t make it good.”

This can happen a lot, given how many regional differences we have in our language. But it’s not only language; sometimes it can be a ‘fact’ that you get right but readers believe the truth lies elsewhere. Getting police investigation and forensics procedures right when your readers believe what they watch on television is reality can make them think you don’t know your subject.

An author friend who wrote historical novels used the term technology in her book, and her editor called her on it. Although she could document the word’s usage in that time period, she decided to change it simply because readers probably wouldn’t take the time to look up the word’s etymology.

When I was writing Finding Sarah, I wanted to thwart her efforts to get away, so I made the only car she had access to one with a manual transmission. People who drove stick shifts years and years ago (myself included) know that you can start the car by “popping the clutch.” I made sure the car was parked facing a tree so Sarah would have to use reverse, which complicated that solution. However, in reality, in modern cars with manual transmissions, you can’t even start the car unless you’ve got the clutch depressed. Sarah didn’t know that, but critique partners who’d driven stick shifts back in the day thought I was “wrong” when the car didn’t start.

What are the solutions? For Sarah, I had Randy explain it to her later. Readers might have thought I was ‘wrong’ at the beginning, but I hope they understood when it was explained. For cop procedures, it’s nice if you can have either another character or some internal monologue to explain that “life doesn’t work like television.”

As for my bold, bald, bare dilemma? Rather than have over half my readers think I’ve got it wrong no matter which word I chose, I did a write around and said ‘blatant lie’ instead.

How do you deal with people thinking you’re wrong when you’re right?

Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

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

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

We Become the Stories We Tell Ourselves

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The idea for this post began with a quote attributed to Michael Cunningham in A Home at the End of the World…

“We become the stories we tell ourselves”

This is especially true of writers. If you tell yourself, “I’ll never find an agent” or “My writing isn’t good enough to score a publishing contract,” chances are you won’t. Why? Because you’ve adopted a negative mindset.

Same principal applies to, “I can only write on weekends.” If you tell yourself you can only write on weekends, you’re already making decisions about your ability to write Monday through Friday, so if you slip behind the keyboard on a weekday, it’ll be more difficult to write. You’ve handicapped your creativity with a fixed (negative) mindset.

We’ve discussed fixed vs. growth mindsets before. I want to revisit the Mental Game of Writing *shameless plug for JSB* from a different angle, because it’s not discussed enough in writers’ circles.

RAY EDWARD’S THOUGHT EXPERIMENT 

Imagine you’ve been given a treasure. This treasure, like all magical treasures, comes with conditions. While it’s an unlimited treasure, each day you can only take one gold coin. Just one. And every day you suffer from amnesia. When you forget you have this treasure, you lose a day of unlimited value.

How will you remind yourself to take the coin? Leave a note? Set an alarm? Phone a friend and ask them to remind you? How will you remember not to waste a single coin?

You already own this treasure. It’s called life. Consider this your reminder. Each new day offers endless possibilities, in life as well as writing. What will you do with your coin today? Will you squander it by scrolling through social media for hours? Or will you cash it in for its full value?

Look. We’re all guilty of procrastination from time to time. The trick is to prioritize your writing.

Every morning, I watch the sunrise. Not only does it inspire me, it grounds me with a positive mindset for the day. If you roll over and slap the snooze button, dreading the day ahead, you’ll start the day with a negative mindset. Things tend to roll downhill from there.

Have you ever heard a writer complain about being a lousy writer? That’s a fixed mindset. Their mind is made up. They will never write well. Period.

A growth mindset is positivity based. If that same writer said, “I may not be the best writer today, but I will be” they’ve flipped the script. Because now, they know if they continue to show up, they will improve.

See the difference?

The writer with the growth mindset is moving forward. The writer with the fixed mindset would rather complain about writing than study, hone, and implement their craft.

Writers aren’t the only ones who fall prey to a fixed mindset. It’s easy to do.

Do these excuses sound familiar?

  • Too much to do today. I’ll write tomorrow.
  • Can’t write now. I just worked an eight-hour shift.
  • Too tired to write.
  • Not in the mood to write today.
  • I’m not inspired.
  • I have writer’s block.

Every excuse is steeped in negativity, yet this is common rhetoric in the writing community.

Let’s pull back the veil on each one.

TOO MUCH TO DO TODAY — I’LL WRITE TOMORROW

When life shakes the to-do list in your face, it’s easy to avoid the keyboard. The problem is, tomorrow never comes. If you are a professional writer, or striving to become one, then you must prioritize your writing.

Can you carve out thirty minutes in your busy schedule today? How about fifteen? How about five? No one’s too busy to write a paragraph.

CAN’T WRITE NOW — JUST WORKED AN EIGHT-HOUR SHIFT 

Writers all over the world work a full-time day job. Lee Child wrote his first novel during his commute to and from work. If you’re driving, can you dictate into your phone? Hands-free, please! I don’t want to cause any accidents.

Or write on your phone during your lunch break.

Or start supper fifteen minutes later than usual — after you’ve hit the keyboard.

Priorities, priorities, priorities. How bad do you want it? If writing full-time is your ultimate goal, you must continue to show up.

If you train yourself to write for fifteen minutes when you arrive home from work, the word count will continue to grow. An ever-increasing word count leads to confidence, excitement, and joy. There’s no downside. None. If all you have is fifteen minutes, you must protect that time. Tell your family and friends how much writing means to you. The house won’t burn down if you disappear for fifteen uninterrupted minutes, nor will your children starve.

Some days the words will flow. Other days they won’t. That’s okay. You still made progress. Don’t get caught up in evaluating your writing or hitting a certain word count right away, or you’ll backslide into a negative mindset. Celebrate the fact that you showed up.

TOO TIRED TO WRITE

With all the snow blowing I’ve done this winter, it’d be easy for me to use the “too tired” excuse. Battling Mother Nature does wear me out, but I also have multiple writing projects that need my attention. I take time to rest, enjoy a nice hot cup of tea, then hit the keyboard. If my hands hurt from squeezing the handles of my snowblower (a common problem), I may only squeak out 500 words that day — self-care is equally important — but at least it’s something.

NOT IN THE MOOD TO WRITE TODAY 

If we sit around waiting to get in the mood to write, the WIP will languish on the hard drive for months, even years.

“The only way out is through.”

—Robert Frost

Here’s where having a solid writing routine in place makes all the difference. For me, it’s sliding on the headphones. Once I crank the music, the world fades away, my focus narrows on the screen, and I’m transported into my story. It’s a form of self-hypnosis. When I hear that playlist, my creativity soars.

Find a routine that works for you and stick with it. You may be surprised by how quickly you can jump into the zone.

I’M NOT INSPIRED 

Seriously? I’ve never understood this excuse. What are you waiting for, a lightning rod to shoot from the sky? Lemme tell ya, watching cat videos on social media won’t inspire you, either. Stop wasting precious writing time. Slide on the headphones, or whatever works for you, and write something, anything, even if it’s only a paragraph.

If you don’t know what to write, review your writing from the day before. It’ll come to you. If you’re still stuck, go for a walk. Alone. And think about your story.

Planners may have a slight advantage over pantsers in this regard. If I know my next milestone in the story — first plot point, first pinch point, midpoint, etc., etc. — then I’m able to say, “Okay, the MCs need to wind up doing this or that. How do I get there from here?”

The answer may require research. Or the introduction of a new character. Or better yet, kill a character. Nothing kickstarts creativity faster than raising the stakes.

I HAVE WRITER’S BLOCK 

Pah-lease. Writer’s block is nothing more than a negative mindset with a title attached. You’ve convinced yourself you cannot write for whatever reason. Flip the script in your head, and the words will flow like Niagara.

Perhaps, you’re overwhelmed. It happens. Take a breath. You’re okay. Move on.

Or maybe, real life has given you more than your fair share lately. Or you’ve written yourself into a corner. Figure out what the root cause is, but please don’t call it writer’s block.

Burnout is something else entirely — been there, done that, got the scars to prove it — the subject of which has too many variables to discuss now. Want me to cover it next time?

Maintaining a positive mindset takes work and perseverance, but you can do it… if you want to.

Therein lies the rub.

How will spend your treasure today?

Ferdinand Magellan and the Hero’s Journey

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“You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.” ― Christopher Columbus

* * *

I recently read Over the Edge of the World by Laurence Bergreen. It’s a detailed account of Ferdinand Magellan’s extraordinary expedition that resulted in the first circumnavigation of the Earth. For such an accomplishment, you might expect Magellan’s story to be the quintessential tale of the hero. Let’s see how he did:

* * *

In the typical hero’s journey, the main character is reluctant to accept the call to adventure, but Magellan didn’t fit that model. He wanted to lead an expedition. The goal wasn’t necessarily to sail all the way around the world, but to secure fame and fortune by finding a route to the Spice Islands in Indonesia by sailing west—something earlier explorers had failed to do.

Back then, spices were to Europeans what oil is to the world today, i.e., very valuable. So Magellan, being a reliable seaman with strong credentials, felt his plan was something the nautical powers-that-be should be willing to finance.

Those maritime powers were Spain and Portugal, and they ruled the exploration of the world. Being Portuguese, Magellan pitched his plan to King Manuel of Portugal, who repeatedly refused to fund the journey. A lesser man may have given up, but Magellan instead turned to King Charles of Spain who agreed to bankroll the expedition. After all, if a quick route could be found to the Spice Islands in Indonesia, that would mean valuable cloves would line the king’s pantry and silver coins would jingle in his pocketbook.

Magellan at last had his chance to secure his place in history, following in the watery footsteps of his personal hero, Christopher Columbus.

So far, so good.

* * *

In September 1519, Magellan set sail with five ships, 260 seamen, a chronicler named Pigafetta, and a woefully incorrect map of the world.

Previously, no one had found a waterway from the Atlantic Ocean around or through the large land mass we call the Americas, but Magellan had a plan. The map he used showed a strait, a small body of water that sliced through the southern part of the Americas. Magellan went to sea to seek that strait and find a thruway to the Pacific, and he proved himself a true hero in this part of the journey. He led the expedition through a stormy crossing of the Atlantic, suppressed (albeit brutally) a mutiny, identified the mouth of the strait, and managed to continue with three ships after one was lost to a storm and another was taken over by mutineers and turned back to Spain.

By the time the weather was good enough to enter the strait, Magellan, ever the disciplined seaman, carried on and led his group through the treacherous waterway. This was no small feat. The strait was so circuitous, with winding inlets that went nowhere and weather that worked against the expedition, that some historians call Magellan’s crossing of the strait the greatest navigational feat in history.

To put it in perspective, the waterway that came to be known the Strait of Magellan is 350 miles long, a shorter distance than that from Los Angeles to San Francisco.  It took the expedition over a month to maneuver through it. We can only imagine their delight when one morning they sailed out into a vast ocean—the first time a European vessel had crossed from the Atlantic Ocean to the new body of water Magellan named the “Pacific Ocean.”

So how was Magellan doing on the hero scale? He gets high marks for Leadership, Discipline, Endurance, and Courage. But the journey wasn’t over yet.

* * * 

Using his inaccurate charts, Magellan expected it would take just a few days to cross this new ocean to the Spice Islands. It took over three months until they sighted land.

Up until then, Magellan had shown himself to be up to the task of the hero, but once the expedition arrived in the Philippines, his ability to deal with the nuances of other cultures proved to be far weaker than his skill as a seaman. When a tribal king complained about a possible fight with another tribe, Magellan offered to punish the second king by warring with them. In the skirmish that followed, Magellan and several of his crew were killed.

Without Magellan, leadership was lacking, and progress to the Spice Islands was slow. In the end, only one ship managed to acquire a load of spices and complete the circumnavigation. The Victoria sailed into Seville harbor in September 1522, almost a full three years since it had left. Of the 260 sailors in the original expedition, only 18 were aboard.

Following the magnificent accomplishment of the first circumnavigation of the Earth, other expeditions were sent out to retrace Magellan’s route, but they all failed. It would be fifty-eight years before another explorer, Sir Francis Drake, would complete a circumnavigation of the world.

* * *

Authors will appreciate that one major accomplishment of the expedition was the work of the chronicler, Pigafetta, who survived the journey to publish his personal narrative, one version of which resides in the Library of Yale University. Of Pigafetta’s work, Bergreen notes

“…it is a compilation of events, illustrations, translations of foreign tongues, prayers, descriptions, epiphanies, and bawdy asides… The reader of Pigafetta’s chronicle hears his voice, alternately bold, astonished, devastated, fascinated, and in the end, amazed to be alive in the cruelly beautiful world of his time.”

Although his original goal was to find a route to the Spice Islands, perhaps Magellan’s most heroic accomplishment was to have single-handedly changed the map of the entire world. Bergreen writes

“Although no continent or country was named after him, Magellan’s expedition stands as the greatest sea voyage in the Age of Discovery.”

Maybe no countries were named for him, but Magellan did have a couple of impressive remembrances. The Strait of Magellan was named in his honor a few years after the expedition, and two galaxies orbiting the Milky Way that are visible from the Southern Hemisphere were named the Magellanic Clouds. Not bad to have your name enshrined in the heavens.

* * * 

So TKZers: What do you think about Magellan? Hero? Flawed meddler in someone else’s quarrel? Cruel task master? Or maybe a combination of these qualities. How do you construct the heroes of your stories? Do you have a Magellan-like hero?

* * * 

 

Heroes come in many sizes and shapes, and the lure of treasure is bound to propel them into adventure.

Join Reen & Joanie as they tackle a treasure hunt with determination and a little help from their friends. Can they fend off the evil Alicia, solve the strange puzzles, and bask in the glory of success? Click on the image to go to the Amazon detail page.

Story Genius

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Story Genius
Terry Odell

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

cover of Story Genius by Lisa Cron.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cron makes the distinction between plot and story.

Plot:

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

Story:

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do her cards look like?

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

Subplots – what’s going on with secondary characters?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your turn. The floor is open.

Find me at Substack with Writings and Wanderings

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

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

Creative Quirk or Signature?

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When I first strolled through my new house with the realtor, I noticed a lot of unfinished work. For example, the previous owner painted the barn to match the house but left the tip of the peak untouched. Support posts on the covered porch were all painted, except the top of one. It baffled me. Why wouldn’t she paint those spots? Higher areas, she’d painted.

I could tell she’s creative. Painted butterflies, hummingbirds, and flowers dotted the landscape.

Did I buy the house from an emerging artist?

The support beam in the new addition (living room) has pallet wood wrapped around two sides, with the third side only painted. Gorgeous wood frames the back mudroom ceiling except for one tiny missing piece. The underside of an outside railing has new paint, one bare space, then continues to the barn loft. Four solar motion detectors line the back fence, with one blacked out with tape.

After I moved in, the closer I examined small details, the more my curiosity piqued. What’s going on here? The previous owner clearly has a fondness for 3s (as do I). Or maybe, she knows the importance of the number 3.

The number 3 often appears in nature and fundamental structures:

  • Atoms: protons, neutrons, electrons
  • Dimensions: length, width, height
  • Cycles: birth, life, death
  • Time: past, present, future
  • Essential survival needs: air, water, food
  • Geometric strength: The triangle is the simplest and most stable shape — it’s represented in everything from molecular structure to human-made architecture
  • Monocots: many flowering plants (monocots) have flower parts in multiples of three
  • Tree structure: roots, trunk, canopy
  • Primary colors of light: red, blue, yellow
  • States of matter: solid, liquid, gas
  • Layers of skin: epidermis, dermis, hypodermis
  • Types of muscle: skeletal, cardiac, smooth
  • Germ layers during development: ectoderm, mesoderm, endoderm
  • Circulations: Systemic, Pulmonary, Portal
  • Trinity: Earth, sun, moon… body, mind, spirit
  • Genetic code: DNA instructions are read in triplets (codons) to build proteins
  • Sensory Perception: Human color vision is trichromatic, based on three types of cones in the eyes sensitive to red, green, and blue light
  • Survival “Rule of 3”: Humans can typically survive 3 minutes without air, 3 hours without shelter in harsh environments, and 3 days without water
  • Geographic regions: land, sea, air
  • Insects: adult insects are characterized by a 3-part body: head, thorax, abdomen.
  • Dietary groups: herbivores, carnivores, omnivores

The number 3 represents universal patterns of stability and completeness.

Did the emerging artist find comfort in the power of 3? The mystery haunted me as I surveyed my new property.

Then one morning, I was admiring the sunrise from the back mudroom, when I noticed she’d painted only three sides of a window frame. The floor she tiled, except for one square in the corner by the water heater.

A ha! It’s an intentional act. Her creative signature, if you will.

Kind of a pain for the new buyer (me) to touch up all these spots but I also respect her creativeness — she left her signature on every improvement she made. And helped create the quirkiness I love about the property.

To her credit, she also left the supplies to finish every project. Maybe I’ll leave one or two minuscule signatures in a corner that’s not visible to others, as an homage to her creative spirit. Not the living room beam — that blank side drives me crazy. What she probably never considered was that buyers deduct money from their offer for unfinished projects. It’s automatic. The more a buyer must do, the less they want to spend.

The same could be said for readers.

If a reader runs into too many writing tics, they’ll either:

  • Never read that author again
  • Deduct stars for the annoyance
  • Give the author one last chance; they better deliver in the next book

Writing tics could be seen as a creative signature of sorts, I suppose, but not in a good way. Readers don’t want to be yanked from the story. They want immersion. They want you to sweep them away, to transport them into the scene and hold them captive. Writing tics do the opposite.

Even in my new home, some might look at the unfinished spots in a negative way. Not me. Though I’ll complete most of the projects for continuity, I love the quirkiness of the understated ones. With the mystery of why she did it solved, I appreciate her creative spirit.

The same cannot be said for writing tics. If you made no other writing resolutions this year, add this: Tighten your prose, TKZers!

What a Difference a Day Makes

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Mindset, clarity, control, and/or opportunities can all change in a single day. Think of how many plot twists could occur in a 24-hour period. Characters run full force into danger, narrowly escape, and end the evening in a hot tub with a cocktail. Or they don’t escape. Imagine how grueling every second of captivity must feel?

Entire novels that take place in a single day include:

  • Saturday by Ian McEwan follows a neurosurgeon through his Saturday, dealing with personal and national anxieties.
  • The Hours by Michael Cunningham interweaves three women’s lives across different eras, all connected by Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, with events occurring in one day. Albeit in different years.
  • The Flight Attendant by Chris Bohjalian is about a flight attendant who wakes with a dead man in a Dubai hotel. The MC must piece together the previous night before her next flight.
  • Rock Paper Scissors by Alice Feeney: A couple’s anniversary trip to a remote Scottish castle turns sinister as secrets unravel in a single, stormy weekend (more than one day but still a condensed timeframe).
  • Supremely Tiny Acts by Sonya Huber explores the small moments of a single day in a woman’s life.
  • The Mezzanine by Nicholson Baker focuses on a man’s lunch hour and his detailed observations of office life.
  • The Sun Is Also a Star by Nicola Yoon is a romance novel that follows two teens who meet and fall in love in a single day in New York City.

The above list demonstrates this technique isn’t limited to thrillers. A condensed timeframe could work with almost any genre.

Movie Examples:

  • Collateral shows how a cab driver’s night turns deadly as he’s forced to drive a hitman around LA for one wild night of murder and mayhem.
  • Ambulance focuses on two robbers who hijack an ambulance, and leads to a city-wide chase.
  • Unstoppable is about a runaway train that threatens a city, with a veteran engineer and young conductor racing to stop it in hours.
  • The Taking of Pelham 123 shows how a subway dispatcher must outwit hijackers holding passengers hostage in a lone NYC subway car.

All these stories use the compressed timeframe to heighten tension and force characters to make immediate decisions, which often leads to more conflict and higher stakes. Compressed timeframe novels are almost impossible to put down. The movies? Forget about it. They demand your full attention — keep the pause button handy for bathroom breaks. You won’t want to miss a second!

Crafting a novel set within a 24-hour period requires tight plotting, a strong central conflict, and a heightened sense of urgency.

Tips to Write Compressed Timeline Novels

Use a chronological structure that follows the progression of the day, from sunrise to sunset or from the inciting incident through the next 24-hours. If you begin each chapter with a heading to mark the hour, it’ll emphasize the ticking clock and add even more intensity.

Anchor the story around a major time-sensitive event, like a party, heist, or sudden disaster. The main character’s journey through this event provides a natural narrative arc. A strong inciting incident is a must. Whatever event kicks off the quest should happen early and be urgent enough to force the MC to act. For example, in Ian McEwan’s Saturday, the MC witnesses an accident that disrupts his peaceful day.

Use backstory strategically through dialogue, internal thoughts, or quick flashbacks. All must relate to the main storyline and reveal important tidbits and/or character traits. Since time is limited, be intentional with your dialogue. Conversations between characters can reveal relevant backstory and propel the plot forward.

Avoid unnecessary subplots. With such a tight window of time, every scene, conversation, and action should serve the storyline. You could weave in a subplot between dueling protagonists, like unreciprocated romantic feelings or a divorced couple forced to work together. Both would cause even more conflict and obstacles.

Word of caution: Don’t let the subplot destroy the pacing of the novel or detract from the main storyline. Let’s use my two quick suggestions as examples. The awkward moments of unreciprocated love could be used as comedy relief to give the reader a break from the tension. A divorced couple could also add hilarity if one spouse nitpicks the other at the worst possible time.

A countdown structure, where the plot builds toward the climax, heightens stakes, builds tension and conflict. Keep raising those stakes — challenge your characters! They cannot escape their fate by waiting for tomorrow, thus the pressure escalates throughout the day.

Use the setting to your advantage. Saturate the narrative with sensory details to create a strong sense of place, mood, and atmosphere. Take advantage of the time of day, traffic, weather, and location to reflect the characters’ changing moods and emotions.

Limit your cast. With less time to develop characters, a smaller cast allows for more intimate and detailed dynamics.

There isn’t much time for massive external changes, so trigger character flaws early and focus on internal changes to create a strong character arc. Show how the day’s events force them to change strategy, perspective, or arrive at a new understanding.

Also, the compressed timeline allows the perfect place to demonstrate the three dimensions of character through action and reaction under pressure. Give readers direct access to their inner lives with a deep POV. An omniscient narrator won’t be as effective.

Hope you all had a joyous holiday season, TKZers!

Have you written a story with a limited timeframe? What’s your favorite “crunch time” movie or novel? Why did the tight timeline work for you?

From Cockpit to Keyboard: What ‘Aviate, Navigate, Communicate’ Teaches Novelists

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Never wait for trouble. —Chuck Yeager

* * *

 “Aviate. Navigate. Communicate.”

When I was taking private pilot lessons, my instructor drilled this three-word phrase into me in every lesson as essential to successful flying. Although you need to keep all three of these skills in mind and not fixate on any one of them, there is a priority order.

Aviate. Fly the plane. This is always first. The pilot must maintain the altitude, airspeed, and position in the air (attitude). Things can get busy in the cockpit, and a mechanical failure or some other unanticipated issue can divert a pilot’s attention from simply flying the plane. The Society of Aviation and Flight Educators notes:

A famous example of failure to follow the established aviation priorities is the crash of Eastern Airlines Flight 401. In December 1972, the crew of a Lockheed L-1011 TriStar became focused on the malfunction of a landing gear position indicator light for the nose gear. The plane subsequently descended into the Everglades northwest of Miami, killing 101 of the 176 people on board (two people died more than seven days after the accident).

Navigate. When you’re flying an aircraft, you need to know where you are and where you’re going. Whether the pilot is navigating or there’s a separate navigator onboard, their job is to monitor the flight and make adjustments as needed to get the plane to its destination. Mistakes in navigation can lead to loss of situational awareness and accidents.

Communicate. Air Traffic Control is the pilot’s friend. They direct flights to keep safe distances between planes and provide instructions for safe takeoffs and landings. Pilots communicate with ATC using protocols that must be followed or the communication fails. For example, the English language is the standard established by the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) to ensure safety and clear communication. On initial contact with ATC, the pilot uses the “4 W’s” (who you’re calling, who you are, where you are, what you want).

* * *

From Cockpit to Keyboard

It seems like everything I do relates back to writing these days. Fortunately, a failure in the writing process isn’t as dangerous as in flying, but we might be able to map Aviate, Navigate, Communicate onto the writer’s job. Here’s a simplified look at the process:

Aviate: Write the book. Keep it moving forward. Don’t decide to clean out that closet once again because you’re looking for an excuse to avoid writing. And don’t rewrite Chapter One for the fortieth time to get it just right. TKZers: How do you keep moving forward? Do you allocate a certain number of words or hours per day to your work? How long does it take you to write a novel? 

Navigate: While you’re writing, keep an eye on where you’re going. Does each scene move the story forward, or are you getting bogged down in unnecessary subplots or long, boring backstory? TKZers: How do you avoid getting off course when writing?

Communicate: Editors, critique partners, and beta readers are the author’s friends. Use their input to revise and polish the story. Clear communication will enable the author to make the necessary changes. TKZers: What types of communication do you use to improve the final product?

* * *

So TKZers: Do you use a method like “Aviate, Navigate, Communicate” to complete your novels? Tell us about it.

 * * *

 

 

Knights in Manhattan begins on a flight that has encountered rough air. But there may be more turbulence inside the cabin than outside the airplane.

Click the image to go to the Amazon book page.

Building a Mystery

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For years, my library colleagues would ask when I was going to write that library mystery. Afterall, I read mysteries, was a writer, and worked at library, so it seemed like a natural fit to them. While I thought about it I continued writing fantasy and science fiction.

Finally, in 2020, after I’d retired from the library, the desire to write a cozy library mystery novel grabbed me. As I finished the final novel in my Empowered series, I read a bunch more mysteries of all sorts, from Matthew Scudder to more Agatha Christie to Sara Rosett’s Murder on Location cozy series.

I also read books on writing mysteries: Mystery Writers of America’s How to Write a Mystery, How to Write Killer Fiction by Carolyn Wheat, our own KZB alum Nancy Cohen’s Writing the Cozy Mystery, Sara Rosett’s How to Outline a Cozy Mystery Workbook, as well as her Teachable course on writing cozies. Sara’s course also included interviews with cozy mystery authors like Lynn Cahoon and Anna Castle. I discovered very useful handouts at Castle’s website from a workshop she gave on mystery writing.

I read more mysteries, and watched mystery TV series like Midsomer Murders, Elementary, Monk, the new Father Brown series, Perry Mason, and Columbo.

My published fantasy novels had crime and mystery elements, so writing an actual murder mystery should be a snap, right?

I wasn’t surprised it wasn’t that easy. I consider actual mystery novels to be one of the hardest types of fiction to write, and took the challenge seriously, which was a good thing. From the time I began outlining my first library cozy mystery, then called Death Due, until I published the final version, A Shush Before Dying, over two years had passed. I wrote three different versions, with numerous outlines. I did a deep dive into upping my revision game after finishing the first draft.

The second book in the series, Book Drop Dead came faster, being completed in year.

I’m an outliner, who, once upon a time, discovery wrote (AKA “pantsed”) his novels. For me, figuring out story structure was the secret that unlocked being able to create a story that worked. Mysteries were no different.

Cozy mysteries, like other mysteries, usually center around a murder. For me, that meant learning who the murderer was, and why they committed the crime, before outlining the book. I began each book by creating an electronic document file which became a novel journal where I could brainstorm about the mystery, the killer’s shadow story (something I learned from our own James Scott Bell), spin out the web of suspects, background notes, and simple outlines I could flesh out later.

***

Mystery foundation

These make up the foundation of the mystery I’m building, and key to my process is asking myself questions about each.

Killer: Who and why? What lead them to kill, and why did they murder the victim? How do they react when they learn they are being investigated by our sleuth-hero?

The Victim: Often someone who is despicable in at least some of the time, and often at the center of a conflict, but they can be something other than a jerk—quirky perhaps, misunderstood, or even a good person who ran afoul of a killer. What was their relationship with the killer?

The setting: the location and community where the murder takes place. For my own cozy mystery, the setting was easy: the public library. I wanted the era to be the 1980s, when I began my at-first accidental career. This was the library before the Internet, when the card catalog ruled and staff used “dumb” terminals to check out books, stamping the date dues on a label on a page at the front of the book.

The public library then and now is a community in its own right, as well as a meeting ground for other communities, which provide opportunities for all sorts of situations and characters. How does the setting shape the murder, and the investigation?

The sleuth-hero: What pushes them to investigate the murder instead of leaving it to the police? Amateur sleuths are often nosy, curious, driven to solve puzzles. This describes my librarian-sleuth Meg Booker. The hero may be motivated to solve the crime because of personal concern if a friend is the suspect or survival if they themselves fall under suspicion.

In other cases, it may be the sense that thing about the murder doesn’t fit the facts as the police see them. The hero must have a reason to investigate and discovering that reason is vital. In cozy mystery the reason is often personal. The sleuth may have a connection to the victim, or to the person the police believe is the killer, as is the case in my first Meg Booker mystery.

The Web of Suspects:  For me an ideal number of suspects is five to seven. The motivations can be similar, but it helps build the mystery if at least some have different motives for murder. For instance, two suspects might both be rivals with the murder victim for a job promotion, while three more have possible motives unrelated to the day job.

***

Plotting

The next thing I like to tackle is my story structure. I’m a fan of our own James Scott Bell’s signposts, such as the opening Disturbance, the Doorway to Act II, and especially the Mirror Moment. I brainstorm how the murder plays out, how the sleuth’s investigation begins and progresses, and what the killer does in response.

I’m an outliner, so I began putting the mystery into a beat outline, with sign posts marked and key scenes laid out. I’ll do additional brainstorming in a novel journal, a separate electronic document.

***

The Arc of Suspicion

I also work out what I call “the arc of suspicion,” which is the sleuth-hero and readers progression in who they suspect committed the crime. I posted about this here. I’m going to crib from that earlier post and share the beats of the suspicion arc. I don’t necessarily write all these out, but keep them in mind as the story progresses, brainstorming as needed:

  1. The arc begins with noticing something is off about someone’s behavior, or a set of circumstances.
  2. Doubt ensues.
  3. Then, discovering “evidence” which increases suspicion. This can be an overheard conversation, reading a note or email, seeing a meeting without hearing what is being said, looking at a pattern of behavior, perhaps behavior out of character for the suspect, etc.
  4. Discovering a lie, or a false alibi can heighten suspicion.
  5. There can be a deepening fixation on a suspect’s behavior, words, deeds, and trying to figure out what they were thinking, why they did what they did, etc.
  6. Acting on that suspicion to the point of taking risks and putting yourself in potential jeopardy. This often precedes the confrontation/reveal in the final act of a mystery.
  7. Given that mysteries usually have multiple suspects, there will be a point where the sleuth (and the reader) rule out a person because of evidence, alibi, or learning what the secret was that made a particular individual act suspicious to the main character.
  8. Of course, heroes and readers often suspect more than one character at the same time, so the arcs can overlap. Sometimes the behavior or evidence is one thing, which leads to doubt about a particular person. Doubt which might deepen to suspicion or might simmer in the background. Or, even forgotten for the moment, until the end, when new evidence makes the sleuth suddenly suspect that person with a cold-in-the-bones feeling.
  9. Finally, the sleuth’s suspicions lead to the actual killer and/or can lead the killer to them.

***

Drafting

As I write the first draft, I’ll come up with new ideas, clues etc., and, if they make the grade, will add them to my outline.

***

Revision and feedback

Revision is where I work to fix plot holes, add missing clues, clarify motives if needed, along with the usual revision tasks of improving scenes, pacing, characterization, setting details etc. I then send the revised novel to my beta readers, who give me invaluable feedback on whether the mystery worked for them, where they were surprised, if they guessed the identity of the murderer, etc. I then make any additional changes based their feedback.

***

The resources which helped me learn how to build a mystery

Nancy Cohen’s Writing the Cozy Mystery. Nancy’s book provides an instructive break down of the elements of a cozy mystery.

Sara Rosett’s How to Outline a Cozy Mystery. Rosett  gives the building blocks of a cozy mystery, as well as different outlining methods, tips on clues and red-herrings, conventions of cozies etc. While Rosett’s online course on writing a cozy mystery appears to be no longer available, the book still is.

Carolyn Wheat How to Write Killer Fiction. Wheat looks “the funhouse of mystery” as well as the “rollercoaster of thriller,” and reading the book gives a useful comparison between the two as well as the elements of each.

Hallie Ephron Writing and Selling Your Mystery Novel. Ephron’s book is a deep dive into the elements of mystery, looking at plotting, characters, mystery, sense of place, revision, as well as advice on publishing, both traditional and self-publishing.

Mystery Writers of America How to Write a Mystery. A collection of essays by mystery masters also covers the different aspects of mystery fiction.

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So, this is how I build a mystery. If you write mysteries, what tips you do have?