How to Write a Book, Part Two

This article is part two of How to Write a Book.

2. Figure out how many words you can write a day.

As you write your Zero Draft you’ll also get an idea for how many words you can write in a day. You want to shoot for a SUSTAINABLE amount. Writing a book isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon.

NaNoWriMo is wonderful practice for writing everyday. It doesn’t matter if you can write 50,000 words a month, but trying helps you get in touch with your inner writer and figure out your average word output.

If you can’t write every day, that’s fine! Perhaps you have an insane schedule conceived in the depths of hell and can only write once a week. That's okay! All you’re trying to do at this point is figure out how many words you can write over a certain time period.

3. Create a story outline.

Don’t worry if you don’t know how the story ends (the Climax) or what the middle bits are (Midpoint Crisis) or even what sets all these events in motion (the Inciting Incident). That’s what we’re going to work on now.

Take what you know about the story and:

a) Internal: build on your understanding of the story, and

b) External: shape the basic story outline so it fits the structure of your chosen genre. 

Before we think any more about (a) or (b), though, let’s talk about suspense.

3a. A note about suspense.

I’m interested in writing stories that entertain. Not everyone is! And that’s fine. But I love a rousing, suspenseful, tale. Since these kind of stories are what I love to read it’s natural that they’re also what I love to write.

Another thing: It’s MUCH more difficult to sell books that aren’t entertaining. Yes, there are folks who read and enjoy stories that do not have even the faintest smidgeon of suspense—I’ve met them!—but that’s not my audience.

When I write these posts I’m writing to those who, like me, want to craft stories that entertain.

3b. Begin at the end.

When I create an outline for a story I begin at the end.

Sounds perverse, doesn’t it?! But—especially if you’re writing something with the element of surprise—it makes sense to start with what we KNOW and then work out what needs to happen for us to get there.

For example, let’s say you know that Bob Boisterous murdered Sally Soffit with an experimental drug because Sally was going to get the promotion Bob coveted.

Means: Experimental drug
Motive: Bob wants the promotion
Opportunity: Bob says he was taping a podcast in his private studio when the murder occurred—and it seems as though he’s telling the truth.

You know Bob has to get caught which means he has to make a mistake. Let’s say Bob put the poison in Sally’s coffee. When she tasted the coffee she cringed and said, “Someone put sugar in this,” but drank it anyway because she was caffeine deprived and in a hurry.

The killer didn’t know Sally would tell anyone her coffee was too sweet or that the person she told would remember it. When the dregs of Sally’s coffee is analyzed it seems to only contain coffee because the killer switched the cups.

Our detective thinks Bob’s behavior is fishy. Bob hated Sally (and vice versa) and Bob’s grief seems false. If he had nothing to do with her death, the detective feels he wouldn’t be as intent on hiding his true feelings.

Also, the victim’s comment about the sweetness of the coffee (Sally NEVER used sugar) is enough to make our intrepid detective suspicious. Further, the detective knows of a poison that would act on the victim in a way consistent with what the coroner told him about the body.

The murderer was counting on the death being put down to natural causes—the victim had a heart condition and the effects of the poison looked like cardiac failure.

You get the idea. Everything is much easier once you know where you’re going. Because of this you can save a LOT of time.

3c. Complete your outline.

At this point you don’t have to know every last little thing about the plot but try to have something down for the main points. Keep in mind that your outline isn’t written in stone! It can and will change as you write.

Even if your outline has gaps it helps to have the bones of the story written down. You’ll be able to see which parts are missing. A well-defined, concrete, problem is much easier to solve than a nebulous ill-defined one.

ACT ONE (25%)
(This is the Ordinary World. Describe it as you introduce your characters IN ACTION. Give them an initial problem to solve, setbacks, etc.)
Inciting Incident: What is the Inciting Incident?
Call to Adventure: What draws the protagonist into the quest?
Journey to the Special World: What mini-quest takes the protagonist from the Ordinary World into the Special World of the Adventure?

ACT TWO (26 to 75%)
(Introduce the Special World of the Adventure. It should be starkly different from the Ordinary World, inside out and upside down.)
Trials: What challenges does the protagonist have adjusting to the Special World?
Approach the cave: What crisis compels the protagonist to confront the antagonist at the midpoint?
Midpoint: What happens at the confrontation? Does the protagonist win or lose? Do they acquire any information?
Complication: Something goes very wrong and complicates the protagonist’s quest, what happens?
More complications: Events keep going wrong. What happens?
All Hope is Lost: What happens at the All Hope is Lost point?

ACT THREE (76 to 100%)
(All subplots have been closed out or will soon be closed out. We’re concentrating on the hero’s quest, racing toward the finish line.)
Race to the Finish: How does the protagonist get his/her mojo back and get back on track?
Climax: What happens at the climax? Does the protagonist win and, if so, how?
Wrap up: What happens to the major characters?

You don’t need to answer these questions in any detail at this point. This will just give you the big points, the turning points.

Now we have an outline. Granted, this outline will vary depending on the kind of genre you’re writing for, but you’ve got the bare-bones done. High-five!

4. Decide how long you want your finished manuscript to be.

Now figure out how your story fits into, or onto, your outline. When I think of this step I think of pulling a dress (your story) over a mannequin (the outline).

I’m not going to fib, this step is a bit of a dark art. Let’s start by deciding how long we want the finished manuscript to be.

If you’re writing a fantasy you might want to shoot for 90,000 to 100,000 words or, if you’re writing a romance, you might want to keep your word count closer to 60,000 or 70,000. It’s my experience that mysteries range from anything between 60,000 to 85,000 words.

Let’s say you decide to shoot for around 80,000 words and use a three act structure.

Act 1: 20,000 words.
Inciting Incident (5%): 4,000
Call to Adventure (10%): 8,000
Journey to the Special World (20%): 16,000

Act 2: 40,000 words.
Trials (26%): 20,800
Approach the cave (40%): 32,000
Midpoint (50%): 40,000
Complication (55%): 44,000
More complications (60%): 48,000
All Hope is Lost (70%): 56,000

Act 3: 20,000 words.
Race to the Finish (76%): 60,800
Climax (90%): 72,000
Wrap up (98%): 78,400

Of course you might not want to use three acts, perhaps you’d prefer four or five or even six! All the major points (Inciting Incident, Call to Adventure, etc.) will be the same. Also, keep in mind that at the end of each act, a major event should occur which spins the hero’s journey (the through-line) in a different direction and increases the stakes.

As far as what happens in each act you’ll want to adapt it to the genre you’re writing in. For instance, here’s a five act structure for a murder mystery.

5. Write your first draft.

Congratulations! You’ve got an outline. Sure, there are gaps but you’re getting the feel for the general shape of the story, the major moments. Now let’s see what we can do about filling in the missing bits.

For example, there’s 4,000 words between the Inciting Incident and the Call to Adventure. One thing that can help get you through the gaps are scenes and sequels.

I’m putting together an example outline for Murder in Meadowmead. I’ll try to finish that up today and publish it tomorrow (Wednesday).

That’s it! I’ll talk to you again tomorrow. In the meantime, good writing!

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Every post I pick something I believe in and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I like with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, they put a few cents in my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

Today I’m recommending: The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface, by Donald Maass. I’ve had the privilege of taking a couple of workshops from Mr. Maass. He’s terrific! If you ever have the chance to hear him speak, take it! His books are amazingly helpful. Highly recommended!

From the blurb:

While writers might disagree over showing versus telling or plotting versus pantsing, none would argue this: If you want to write strong fiction, you must make your readers feel. The reader's experience must be an emotional journey of its own, one as involving as your characters' struggles, discoveries, and triumphs are for you.

Readers can simply read a novel...or they can experience it. The Emotional Craft of Fiction shows you how to make that happen.

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How to Write a Book

The question I’ve been asked more than any other is, “How can I write a book?” Here's my attempt at an answer. Please keep in mind this is just ONE WAY to write a book not the only way.

How to write a book

Neil Gaiman once said—and I’m paraphrasing—that each time he writes a book it’s a different process. I think there’s a lot of truth to that. Each book is different, each book presents its own challenges and its own rewards. But if you’ve never written a book and would like to take a peek at how I TRY to do it, read on.

1. Write a Zero Draft

You’ve heard of discovery writers. A discover writer doesn’t have preconceived notions about the content or shape of their story (though they may have an idea, or a few ideas). They write by the seat of their pants, discovering where the story takes them.

(For more about what a Zero Draft is see: The Zero Draft: How To Beat Writer’s Block.)

My Zero Drafts are strange amalgams of discovery writing and conscious plotting, heavy on the discovery. (If you’re curious about how I go about getting ahold of a character, see my posts Let's Make a Detective! and Let's Create a Sidekick!.)

That said, when I’m in discovery mode, I try not to consciously think too much about the structure of my story; I brainstorm.

But everyone’s different. Some folks like to dictate their ideas, their musings, into a recorder (if you don’t want to buy a voice recorder there are some decent apps—Android; Apple—that do basically the same thing).

Free writing. After you've practiced free writing for a while you'll get a feel for what works best for you. Myself, I find it works best if I put on my favorite tunes, curl up in my office chair with my writing journal and write longhand.

1a. Do not censor yourself.

Some folks refer to the Zero Draft as a ‘vomit draft.’ Gross, right? But that’s what it’s supposed to be! The Zero Draft is a safe place. Don’t censor yourself, don’t question your ideas, write them down. Remember, no one but you is EVER going to see your Zero Draft.

1b. Ideas, not words.

In a Zero Draft it isn’t the words that's important, it's the IDEAS.

After all, YOU have to discover the story before anything you write will make sense. You have to call the events of the story, as well as the characters, to life within you. If you haven't gotten ahold of the ideas how can anything you write evoke them? At least, that’s my take on it!

I find that the act of writing often works as a kind of invocation. And, ultimately, I think that’s what a zero draft is. It's an invitation to your characters to come to life and do interesting, scandalous, things in the settings, the playgrounds, you create for them.

1c. How long should your Zero Draft be?

The Zero Draft can be any length you like, regardless of how long you want your finished manuscript to be.

As I said, above, the purpose of the rough draft is to call your story into existence, to form that first connection with it. Here’s what I’ve found: 

The shorter your Zero Draft is the better. 

The Zero Draft will be a bit of a mess (after all, it is a vomit draft!) so short is good; less mess to wade through. Also, keep in mind that the Zero Draft is just a beginning. Your understanding of your characters, your understanding of your overall story, will change over time. Your names for them will change, their desires will change, their childhood peccadilloes will change, their connections to other characters will change.

Next Post: In my next post in this series I'll talk about creating a story outline. Stay tuned!

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Every post I pick something I believe in and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I like with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, they put a few cents in my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

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4 Reasons to Write Fan Fiction

“Fan fiction, for many people, is ... a gateway drug to all other fiction writing.”
—Emma Lord

Before Amazon came out with Kindle Worlds I never seriously thought about trying my hand at writing fan fiction. This blog post was inspired by a podcast I listened to a couple of days ago: NPR 1a: Fans And Fan Fiction (I've also embedded the podcast, below). It got me wondering: can fan fiction help writers hone their skill and, if so, how?

Why write fan fiction?

We’ve all heard of fan fiction, or fanfic. Fan fiction is just what it sounds like, fiction written in an established universe which features characters and settings from that universe.

For example, the TV show Supernatural has a LOT of fans. I’m one of them, but certainly not the most hardcore. Over at fanfiction.net Supernatural has the biggest community in the TV show section. Supernatural has acknowledged their fans by making fanfic the subject for a couple of episodes (my favorites!).

But, why write fan fiction? 

4 Reasons to Write Fan Fiction

1. Personal fulfillment.

You love a particular narrative world and there are stories you’d like to read which aren’t being written.

Have you ever wanted characters to do something that you know can’t happen on the show? For example, you want to tell a story about the main character’s death or you would like two characters (possibly the protagonist and antagonist!) to begin a romantic relationship. Or perhaps the stories being spun in a particular universe are strictly PG and you want to take things in a more NC-17 direction. 

2. Change part of a story. 

You might love a particular story but hate the ending. For example, I’ve always LOVED Bram Stokers Dracula. If any of you haven’t read the original, please do. But I’ve never been a fan of the ending. I’ve always wanted to take Stoker’s story, put it in a modern setting, and—while  leaving the beginning more or less the same, change the ending. 

3. The series is finished. 

No more shows are being produced, no more books are being written. The only way you’re going to get a new story is if you write one.

4. Mashup. 

You want to mash two narrative worlds together. For instance, Buffy wakes up in Mordor and takes on Sauron.

The Advantages of Writing Fan Fiction

Writing fanfic has definite advantages for new writers—I wish I had written fanfic when I was a kid; I think most of my stories would have been set in C.S. Lewis’s Narnia!

Another advantage for new writers is that they don’t have to create everything—the characters, the world—from scratch. They can work with fully developed characters that work and they can draw from LOTS of examples. It’s a bit like being an apprentice writer.

That said, I don’t mean to suggest fanfic is ONLY for new writers! 

The Rhythm of Story

Just today I was listening to an interview with one of Stephen King’s children, Joe Hill (10 Minute Writer's Workshop: Workshop 18: Joe Hill). He mentioned a time when he was blocked. To push through he wrote out, longhand, great chunks of a story by one of his favorite authors. It helped him internalize those story rhythms. (Incidentally, several best selling authors have also given this very same advice; it’s what they did at the beginning of their careers.) I think fanfic can help writers in a similar way. By trying to write in the same voice (or a similar one) as a more experienced writer we can internalize the rhythms of successful storytelling.

Tags and Traits

Established characters generally have well-defined tags and traits and seasoned writers deftly weave them into character introductions and reintroductions. This, however, is one of the things it is sometimes difficult for a beginner to pick up, even though it's one of the most important. There are several TV shows that do this exceptionally well. In my opinion, one of the best shows for this is Archer (<-- NSFW). That show continually amazes me! See also: The Simpsons, Bob’s Burgers, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Supernatural. 

Watch or rewatch an episode of one of these shows and pay attention to how the characters are introduced, how tags and traits are used to define the characters and hook viewers, as well as how they hook into the story arc for that season. Also (and this isn’t specific to tags and traits) notice how these shows get right to the inciting incident with minimal preamble.

Where to publish fan fiction?

The legalities are beyond me but if you would like to read about this I suggest the wikipedia article on Fan Fiction.

Non-commercial

It seems as though copyright holders will not prosecute if a work of fan fiction is published on a site devoted to that purpose, for example fanfiction.net.

Commercial 

In the case of commercial fiction things are much different. Generally speaking, without some sort of prior understanding between you and the copyright holder, one cannot write in another author’s universe and get financial remuneration. But some authors do allow others to write in one of their fictional worlds AND receive compensation for their efforts.

For instance, Kindle Worlds offers writers a place to publish fan fiction inspired by popular books, shows, movies, comics, music, and games. Of course there are conditions and restrictions which you can read about here.

Tips for Writing Fan Fiction

Voice. If your goal is to write in the voice of the original author then you must get the atmosphere right. In this context Ian Sansom’s positive review of The House of Silk (a Sherlock Holmes novel) might be of interest: The House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz.

Characterization. Even if your goal isn’t to write in the voice of the original author and even if you intend to transform the characters in some way or other, be careful to make your characterizations are consistent. Of course this applies to ALL writing but chances are your readers will already be fans of the characters and may be even more sensitive to inconsistencies. Further, if you change any of a character’s traits be careful that the characterization you settle on doesn’t ‘break’ the character.  

For example, in the 1992 retelling of Bram Stoker’s Dracula on the big screen, Lucy was depicted as more sexually inquisitive than in the book. Even so, she was recognizably Lucy. I’m not suggesting that each character has a core set of characteristics that any fan fiction must adopt—I rather doubt this—but that’s part of what makes writing a deliciously dark art. Keep in mind that IMHO no matter what you do, no matter what decisions you make in writing (as in life), there are going to be folks who vehemently disagree with you.

List of Fan Fiction Sites and Resources

Fanfiction.net. This is a huge site that serves the interests of a vibrant community. If you’re at all interested in writing fan fiction I encourage you to wander down its highways and byways.

The Writers’ Area. This is a master list of miscellaneous resources devoted to fan fiction. 

Harry Potter Fanfic Resources. There are many sites devoted to all things Harry Potter and this is by no means the only fan fiction resource for that universe but it’s a place to start. 

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Every post I pick something I love and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I’ve loved with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, Amazon puts a few cents in my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

Today I’m wholeheartedly recommending The Fantasy Fiction Formula, by Deborah Chester. DC taught Jim Butcher in university and he dedicated his first book, Storm Front, to her. I’ve read DC's blog for years and love it!

From the blurb: “There's more to writing a successful fantasy story than building a unique world or inventing new magic. How exactly is a plot put together? How do you know if your idea will support an entire novel? How do you grab reader attention and keep it? How do you create dynamic, multi-dimensional characters? What is viewpoint and do you handle it differently in urban fantasy than in traditional epics? What should you do if you're lost in the middle? How do you make your plot end up where you intend it to go? / From the writing of strong, action-packed scenes to the handling of emotions, let award-winning fantasy author Deborah Chester guide you through the process of putting a book together.”

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I’m curious, do you write fan fiction? If so, when did you start? Do you also write original fiction? What do you love most about writing fan fiction? Is there anything you don't like about it? I’d love it if you posted your comment for all to read but if you don’t feel comfortable doing that, you can also contact me directly. I’d love to hear about your experiences! 

Reference:

13 Things Fan Fiction Writers Are Very Tired Of Explaining, by Emma Lord

Writing a Murder Mystery, Character Creation: The Murderer, Part One of Two

"Once I figure out whom to kill, and how, and of course why, then I start asking myself what the killer did wrong, or what he overlooked, that will lead to his undoing." —Lee Goldberg[1]

“One of the most critical skills an aspiring writer needs is the ability to build a solid villain. Even the greatest protagonist in the world cannot truly shine without an equally well-rendered opposition. The converse of that statement isn’t true, though—if your protagonist is a little shaky but your villain absolutely shines, you can still tell a very successful story.” —Jim Butcher[3]

A murder mystery is primarily about the murderer. It is not primarily about the detective, it is not primarily about the sleuth’s sidekick, it is not even primarily about the victims. After all, it is the murderer's desire, his goal, that drove him to kill. If your detective doesn’t have a strong antagonist to butt heads with, things will get boring quickly. In a murder mystery creating a strong murderer can be especially tricky because readers (hopefully!) don’t know who the antagonist is until the very end.

It is difficult to overstate the importance of creating a strong antagonist, one your readers will love to hate. It is the battle between the protagonist and antagonist, their contest of wills, that generates the narrative drive that will mercilessly pull readers through the story.

How to Create an Interesting Murderer

Make the antagonist sympathetic: As strange as it may seem, we want readers to become emotionally connected to the antagonist. Readers need to be able to see themselves in the antagonist and, in so doing, understand her. (Or at least that's one way to go. Many of Agatha Christie's antagonists weren't in the least sympathetic and yet her stories are worldwide bestsellers.)

The antagonist provides obstacles for the protagonist: The antagonist puts obstacles in the way of the protagonist as she seeks to identify the murderer. This generates narrative drive by either providing new clues (or pseudo clues) or by resolving one clue while providing another.

The antagonist is equal but opposite: The antagonist is often very much like the protagonist. For instance, Luke and Darth Vader were both strong in The Force and both trained as Jedi Knights. One could say they both wanted what was best but they had very different ideas about what that was.

One crucial difference: There is one crucial difference between the protagonist and antagonist. The protagonist will hold a value that the antagonist doesn’t. So, for instance, the protagonist generally does something unselfish, sometimes it doesn’t even make much rational sense. In Raiders of the Lost Ark, Dr. Belloq was Indiana Jones’ nemesis. They were both archaeologists, they were both passionate about finding and bringing back the Ark and they both liked Marion Ravenwood. The big difference? People were more important to Indiana than relics.

5 Questions to Ask about the Murderer:

1. Who does the murderer need to kill? 

I’ve found that, usually, the first victim is the person the murderer needed to kill. But there are notable exceptions. Agatha Christie often broke with convention and used her readers' expectations against them (for example, Three Act Tragedy, The A.B.C. Murders).

2. What is the murder method?

Is the murder method, the means of death, an arcane poison? Or perhaps it's a normal poison but there is a problem figuring out how, or when, it was administered? Get creative! If at all possible make the murder method unique and extreme—which is to say, memorable. Read books, watch TV. Write down the many and various ways characters are dispatched. Mix and match. Use what you find to generate your own ideas.

3. Why does the killer need to kill? What is her motivation?

P.D. James once wrote that "All motives can be explained under the letter L: lust, lucre, loathing and love.”[2]

Lust. This is perhaps the oldest motive. Someone sees something they feel they can't live without. Something they covet, something they obsess over. It could be the corner office or the most beautiful girl at prom. It could be your neighbor's wife.

Lucre. Greed. The murderer wants to experience the lifestyles of the rich and famous and is willing to do anything to make that happen.

Loathing. Hatred. The desire to settle a grudge. A perceived offence. The desire to do unspeakable things to the drunk driver who mowed down your wife and children. His lawyer got him off on a technicality, so now you're taking matters into your own hands.

Love: Someone stole the heart of the person you've loved since fifth grade and then threw her away like garbage. As a result she committed suicide. Now you're out for revenge.

4. What does the murderer stand to lose, what are the stakes?

The murderer wants to prevent the detective from identifying her. If she fails in this then she will either be killed or spend the rest of her life in prison. In addition, she'll likely lose all her friends and possibly her family as well.

Of course often the stakes are more specific, more personal. It could be that the murderer is trying to save something he loves, a winery, a restaurant, or a relationship. For him, the worst thing in the world would be to lose that, but if he is revealed as the murderer the thing he loves most in the world will be ripped from him.

5. What did the killer do wrong? What did she overlook?

It seems axiomatic—at least in fiction—that every killer, no matter how intelligent or how well planned the crime, will make at least one mistake. With Agatha Christie, often the killer's mistake was trying to be clever, trying to pull the wool over the detective's eyes. But her detective turned this into a trap. For example, Poirot assumed the guise of the silly foreigner and so invited the proper English people of his day to underestimate him. His quirks, his foreignness, was his armor, his disguise.

What the killer did wrong, what she overlooked, has to be something the detective could discover, as well as something that plays to her strength. There are countless examples of this, but what comes to mind is the episode of Sherlock entitled The Great Game.

Sherlock Holmes is wonderful at noticing minutiae and bringing together diverse threads, strands of information and, from them, creating a synthesis that yields the answer (usually the 'ah-ha' clue triggers this epiphany). The graphical way the show's writers/producers/director have used to illustrate the information Sherlock notices (words suspended in air) works brilliantly and adds another dimension to the storytelling.

My point is that by working backward, looking at the killer, figuring out the motive and the murder method, and then asking where she slipped up is much easier than doing things the other way around.

The Goal: To Surprise the Reader

Never lose sight of the goal: to surprise the reader. I like it when I figure out the identity of the murderer a few paragraphs before the detective unmasks her. That way I feel clever because I've guessed right but I’m not bored.

Even more important, though, than surprising the reader is playing fair. Or, more precisely, it is important that the reader believes you’ve played fair and haven’t unfairly misled them. The reader must feel that everything hangs together and makes perfect sense.

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Every post I pick something I love and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I’ve loved with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, Amazon puts a few cents in my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

This is one of my favorites: Murdoch Mysteries, Season 10.

From the blurb: "At the dawn of the 20th century, Detective William Murdoch (Yannick Bisson) solves Toronto's trickiest cases with scientific insight and ingenuity in the tenth season of the award-winning mystery series."

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Next post in this two part series: Writing a Murder Mystery: 7 More Characteristics That Make a Murderer Interesting. Part Two of Two.

Notes:

1. How to Write a Murder Mystery, by Lee Goldberg.

2. Talking About Detective Fiction, P.D. James.

3. How to build a Villain, by Jim Butcher

Murdoch Mysteries: The Characters

I love Murdoch Mysteries. I’ve watched the entire series, twice! It's a terrific series and enormously popular in Canada and the UK. My question: Why? What is it about this series that has not only captivated me but millions of others.

That's what I'm going to try and puzzle out in this mini-series. Today I'll talk about the characters and in my next post I'll dissect the structure of an episode.

Murdoch Mysteries: The Characters

Have you heard of Frank Gruber? Gruber once bragged that he could write “a complete mystery novel in 16 days”![1]

Gruber was a prolific writer in the age of Pulp. He wrote “more than 300 stories for over 40 pulp magazines, as well as more than sixty novels, which ... sold more than ninety million copies in 24 countries, sixty five screenplays, and a hundred television scripts. Twenty five of his books have sold to motion pictures, and he created three TV series...”[1]

Why I mention Gruber here is that he wrote a terrific article that The Thrilling Detective has reproduced, one that I think can help us when talking about murder mysteries and characterization.

The Protagonist

While the detective isn’t always a hero he tends to be, especially in English Murder Mysteries. Gruber writes:

“THE HERO. A hero must be colorful. He must have an occupation that is colorful or he must be a colorful person. In general, I have followed the theory that a regular policeman or detective is not colorful. Just think a moment about the greatest detective in all detective fiction - Sherlock Holmes - and you will quickly grasp what I mean by colorful.”[2]

Let’s take a look at Detective William Murdoch. What are his traits?

Detective William Murdoch

Murdoch invents forensic techniques and gadgets that are echoes of common technologies that exist today. He then uses his inventions them to solve cases.

Pro: Because of Murdoch’s use of these techniques he is able to solve crimes no one else can.
Con: His unconventional  methods open him to the ridicule of his peers.

• Murdoch is mild, the opposite of bold and colorful.
• He is Roman Catholic in a city that is aggressively protestant.
• Murdoch has no patience—or aptitude—for politics.

Now for the questions:

a. Does William Murdoch have a colorful occupation?

Is a police detective colorful? I think so! It’s certainly an interesting profession to a number of people. Think of how many shows have been wildly, insanely, popular and that had detectives as their main characters (CSI, Law & Order, etc., etc.)

b. Is William Murdoch a colorful person?

NO! Decidedly not. He is the sensible one, the one who never (or practically never) loses his temper. He is self-controlled, logical. But this gives the other characters a blank—or bland!—canvas to bounce off of. Drabness, Mildness, is Murdoch’s thing!

Murdoch's very drabness, sets him apart from everyone else. It’s not just drabness, mildness, but EXAGGERATED drabness. And, as such, it is, in its own way, colorful.

The Sidekick

FOIL. The sidekick is also called a helper and is often a foil for the protagonist, someone who emphasizes the detective's exceptional qualities by having contrasting ones. For example, Watson’s more ordinary mind provides a nice contrast with Sherlock’s brilliant one, just as Watson’s grasp of social niceties contrasted with Sherlock’s complete ignorance.

SUPPLIES A CRITICAL CLUE. Often the sidekick will supply the detective with the thought, the clue, the idea, that makes everything clear. Usually this is something that seems to be completely unrelated to the case, but it sparks something in the sleuth, he makes a critical connection he wouldn’t have done if he hadn’t heard it.[4]

Constable George Crabtree

How does this tie in with George Crabtree? Let’s see:

• Technical expertise. Generally speaking, George doesn’t have technical expertise and doesn’t especially desire any, though he doesn’t have trouble completing the tasks Murdoch sets for him and even, occasionally, comes up with a unique insight or two.
• Rather than being mild and retiring, George is outgoing and sociable. He finds it relatively easy to connect with others.
• Office Politics. George has more of a head for politics than Murdoch.
• Loyal. George is intensely loyal to both Detective Murdoch and Inspector Brackenreid. This is a trait he shares with William Murdoch.
• Unconventional thinking. One of the things I love about George is his ability to come up with a supernatural explanation for unexplained phenomena. He is the opposite of Occam’s Razor!

The Relationship Character

The relationship character, generally speaking, carries the theme of the story. Here’s what Gruber says about theme:

“THEME. This, to me, is the most important element of any mystery story plot. By theme I mean subject matter, what the story is about in addition to, over and above, the ACTUAL MURDER plot. To illustrate:

“‘Death and the Main’ is about fighting cocks. I give a reasonably inside account of how gamecocks are raised, how they are fought, etc. This is knowledge not possessed by the average reader and believe me, I did not know it until I read up on the subject, for the purpose of this story.

“My book, The Lock & the Key, was about locksmiths. A liberal education in making locks and keys was thrown into the murder plot. I knew absolutely nothing about locks and keys until I did research on the subject. I know no more than is in the book.

“If you have ever read Dorothy Sayers' excellent English mysteries, you will find that THEME figures superbly. In The Nine Tailors, the reader learns all about church bells, the art of bell-ringing, etc. In Murder Must Advertise, Miss Sayers discusses advertising in all its phases.

“HOWEVER . . . knowledge of a subject should be used sparingly. The mystery reader may not be as interested in the subject as you are.”

Dr. Julia Ogden

How can we apply what Gruber says about theme to Julia? To answer this, first, let’s look at a few of the good doctor’s defining traits.

• Doctor Julia Ogden is a modern woman, eager and more than able to shed confining Victorian prejudices.
• She is blunt, straightforward.
• She is Murdoch’s ally.
• She shares Murdoch’s fascination with science and gadgetry.
• Her family would prefer that she stopped working, married and had lots of children.
• Although she has no patience for politics she can navigate these waters better than Murdoch.

Julia’s function in the story is to help Murdoch solve the case by giving him information about the victim,  about the manner of his/her death, about what the victim was like in life—whether they had children, their age, how long it took them to die, relative fitness level, what they’d eaten, and so on.

Further, she is a nice contrast to Murdoch. She is often (in the best possible way) a complication, something that upsets the orderliness of his life. Something that makes him stretch himself as a person (e.g., because of Julia, Murdoch took dancing lessons! As did Julia herself.).

The Murderer

Frank Gruber writes:

“VILLAIN. Let's face it, the hero of detective fiction is a Superman. The villain must therefore be a super-Superman or have plenty of assistants. The odds must ALWAYS be against the hero.”[1]

Who the murderer is will, of course, vary from episode to episode, though there are commonalities between all, or at least most, of them.

• The murderer is almost always introduced within the first few minutes. Often, they seem to be a sympathetic character. 
• There is often some compelling reason why we don’t suspect the murderer. Perhaps they seem nice and Murdoch might have a crush on them. Perhaps they are acting as a consultant to the police and, generally speaking, police consultants aren’t murders. Or perhaps the murderer is a police detective.

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Every post I pick something I love and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I’ve loved with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, Amazon puts a few cents in my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

How to Write a Mystery, by Larry Beinhart.

I first read this book YEARS ago and it’s great! Larry Beinhart talks about narrative drive, plotting, openings, scene construction, hooks, all the good stuff! Although Beinhart has written quite a bit he is perhaps best known for his book American Hero which was adapted into the film Wag the Dog.

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All right! This post is only the beginning. On Wednesday I’ll go over the structure of a Murdock Mysteries episode.

Notes:

1. Frank Gruber, Wikipedia

2. Frank Gruber's "Fool-proof" 11 Point Formula for Mystery Short Stories.

3. Murdoch Mysteries, Wikipedia.

4. Mystery Writing Basics: Characters & Plot, by Angela Ackerman

The Secret of Agatha Christie’s Success: Deceit!

Agatha Christie’s book, The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, was the very first murder mystery I ever read!

It’s not surprising I took to Christie’s work. The Guinness World Records lists Agatha Christie as the best selling novelist of all time. Her books have sold roughly 2 BILLION copies! Only the works of William Shakespeare and the Bible outsell her.

This makes me wonder: What is the secret to Agatha Christie’s success?

There has been talk of a formula but I think Christie simply had a handle on the structure of a good story and, specifically, the structure of a great murder mystery!

Beyond that, I think her phenomenal success can be traced to two things:

1. Christie introduced ROMANCE into the murder mystery. 

2. Christie was very good at hiding the identity of the murderer. And she usually did this cleverly and fairly. 

Today I’m only going to concentrate on (2), above. (If you would like to read more about including romance in a story, see: The Structure of a Romance Story.)

How to Make Readers Think the Murderer Couldn't Have Done It. 

There’s no other way to say it: Agatha Christie deceived her readers! And we loved it. How did she do this?

7 Ways to Disguise a Murderer:

1. Agatha Christie made readers think the murderer was a victim. (Peril at End House.) 

Examples: Peril at End House, The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor, And Then There Were None.

In PERIL AT END HOUSE Nick—the eventual murderer—convinces Poirot that someone is trying to kill her. She is subtle and drops clues she knows the great detective (who loves clues!) will pick up on.

In reality, she’s setting up her friend (Fredricka 'Freddie' Rice) to take the fall for a murder she is preparing to commit.

The following summary of Peril at End House (this is from the televised version starring David Suchet) contains spoilers.

Hercule Poirot and his loyal companion Captain Hastings are vacationing at a Cornish Resort: The Majestic. Hastings tells Poirot about an explorer—Michael Seton—who is attempting to fly around the world but who has disappeared. Shortly after this we are introduced to one of the main characters of the story: Magdala ‘Nick’ Buckley (Magdala is a family name). When Nick and Poirot meet she tells him in a casual, offhanded way that she has come close to death three times in the past few days.

After finding various clues, Poirot comes to believe someone is trying to murder Nick. But who? And why?

Maggie Buckley, Nick’s cousin, travels to Nick's home, End House—a gorgeous old place that Nick loves but which is mortgaged to the hilt and in desperate need of renovation—to help watch over Nick. Tragically, the night she arrives Maggie is shot dead. Since the two girls were both wearing black dresses, and since Maggie was wearing Nick’s fur wrap, the two girls would have looked almost identical. Everyone believes Maggie was killed because the killer mistook her for Nick.

After Maggie dies Poirot comes to believe Nick was engaged to Michael Seaton, the deceased world explorer. Michael Seton has left a will that leaves everything to his fiancee, Magdala. Nick is set to inherit millions! Now that Poirot knows why someone is trying to kill Nick the only question left to answer is who?

Strangely, the answer to this seems straightforward. Nick’s best friend, Freddie, is Nick’s primary beneficiary. If Nick dies, Freddie gets everything! The only trouble is, Poirot doesn’t believe it. Freddy is not stupid and the latest attempt on Nick’s life was facile. Besides that, Freddy had no clear motive. She didn’t need the money. She wasn’t desperate. The psychology was all wrong!

It’s here, about three-quarters of the way through the book, just after the all hope is lost point, that Christie gives Poirot the clue which reveals everything. It all hinges on a name. Nick’s given name is Magdala. Further, we know it’s a family name. At this point Miss Lemon and Hastings engage in silly wordplay, wondering what the nicknames are for various given names. Hearing them, Hercule Poirot asks himself: What is Maggie’s given name? What if it were Magdala ...? And, of course, it was. Magdala ‘Maggie’ Buckley was Michael Seton’s fiancee, not Nick!

Nick had killed Maggie so she could pose as Michael Seton’s fiancee and inherit his millions.

Her immediate motive: Nick was fanatically devoted to End House, and she would lose it if she didn’t get quite a lot of money very soon.

That’s the description! Sorry for the length. Peril at End House is, IMHO, one of Christie’s most clever mysteries.

You see the pattern? The murderer tries to be clever, sets themselves up as the victim and in so doing misdirects both Poirot and the reader.

The Tragedy at Marsdon Manor

When the BBC did their adaptation of this story they changed it a wee bit. It is the BBC version I’m referring to. Here’s a brief summary:

Mr. Maltravers has a weak heart, a failing business, a young wife and quite a lot of life insurance. Not the best combination! It is perhaps no surprise that soon after we meet Mr. Maltravers he is found dead of an apparent heart attack. His body is found under a tree said to be haunted by the spirit of a girl who committed suicide decades before. Mr. Maltravers' face is frozen in an expression of shock and agony. 

The victim's wife of two years is convinced that her late husband saw the girl’s spirit and was, quite literally, scared to death. She SEEMED devoted to her late husband, but appearances can be deceiving. Could she have had a motive for killing him? Or perhaps it is exactly as she claims, that a spirit inhabits the tree and it frightened her husband so much his heart gave out.

Mr. Maltravers’ had a brief dalliance with his secretary years before but his secretary—a severe woman of middle-age—still cares for him. Might her caring have turned into something darker?

Mrs. Maltravers is an attractive, intelligent woman apparently devoted to her elderly, ailing husband. Perhaps it isn’t surprising that one of her old friends, Captain Black, still carries a torch for her. He seems honorable, but what might he do to win her heart?

At first it seems as though Mrs. Maltravers is a victim. She sees a ghost in the big spooky tree and no one believes her. The ghost makes her mirror bleed and tortures her with visions of death and blood. At first it seems as though Poirot is nothing but solicitous toward the young widow but it gradually emerges that he suspects her.

Perhaps this particular story is a bit dated in that it relies on the reader suspending disbelief in ghosts and the like, but I found the adaptation convincing.

2. Agatha Christie made readers think the murderer was dead at the time of the crime. (And Then There Were None)

Christie makes the reader think that a certain character is dead and so, when another murder occurs, we think THAT character can’t have committed the murder.

And Then There Were None

And Then There Were None is Agatha Christie’s best selling book and probably one of the most popular novels of all time. Reading what follows will reveal the ending, so—if you haven’t yet—go read the book, then come back!

Okay. Here’s the plot:

Ten very different people are lured to an island by a variety of pretexts. Here’s the Wikipedia summary:

“All have been complicit in the deaths of other human beings, but either escaped justice or committed an act that was not subject to legal sanction. The guests and two servants who are present are "charged" with their respective "crimes" by a gramophone recording after dinner the first night, and informed that they have been brought to the island to pay for their actions. They are the only people on the island, and cannot escape due to the distance from the mainland and the inclement weather, and gradually all ten are killed in turn, each in a manner that seems to parallel the deaths in the nursery rhyme. Nobody else seems to be left alive on the island by the time of the apparent last death. A confession, in the form of a postscript to the novel, unveils how the killings took place and who was responsible.”

The murderer is one of the 10 (the classic closed society). He/she succeeds in convincing one of the other guests on the island, a doctor, to help him fake his death. The doctor—a man too trusting for his own good—agrees.

Every guest of the island—well, every guest except for the murderer!—is a victim. So we, the reader, see the culprit as a victim for most of the book. It is only at the very end, when everyone is dead, that Christie reveals the secret to the puzzle.

I think And Then There Were None was one of Christie’s best books. It was clever, filled with twists, and the whole thing held together after you read the solution.

3. Agatha Christie made the reader think the killer had a cast iron alibi. (Evil Under the Sun)

Christie tricked the reader into thinking the killer couldn’t have done it. Why? Because he/she had no opportunity.

Briefly, in Evil Under the Sun the murderers pose as a young married couple with more than their share of problems. He is carrying on an affair with Mrs ???, a wealthy movie star and she—delicate flower that she is ("I must get out of the sun, I burn so easily...") is devastated but tries to take her husband's philandering in stride.

The truth is that nothing is as it seems. The movie star is their mark, they've arranged to strip her of her wealth then kill her before she has a chance to protest. They work together to give each other an alibi for the crime. Mrs. R. makes it appear as though she was swimming with another guest at the time of Mrs. R's apparent death while Mr R is one of the two people who (apparently) found the movie star's body.

In reality, the 'body' Mr. R found was Mrs R playing dead. After the time of discover is set then Mr. R kills the movie star in his own sweet time. This was crusial because at that time Mrs. R had an alibi (she was swimming with ???) and Mr. R had been with other peole at every second up to that point. Afterwards (it was thought) it didn't matter where he was, but in reality it was after she was 'found' that the true murder occurred.

So you see,  Christie made readers think that Mr R wasn’t a member of the closed society, that his name wasn't on the list of possible killers (for more about 'closed societies' see my article English vs American Murder Mysteries).

4. Agatha Christie made the killer the narrator. (The Murder of Roger Ackroyd)

Making the narrator the killer isn’t considered fair play. Even though The Murder of Roger Ackroyd was one of Agatha Christie's most successful books, the writing club she belonged to—the Detection Club—(Dorothy L. Sayers, Baroness Emma Orczy and G. K. Chesterton were also members)—explicitly forbid its members from employing this technique. That said, Christie got away with it! Why? Readers, even though they grumbled a bit about it not being quite fair, LOVED the book!

(For more on Agatha Christie and the Detection Club: Agatha Christie's Secret: Break The Rules.)

That said, I’m not sure I’d recommend anyone else try making the narrator the killer, although I wouldn’t be surprised if someone gave a young Christie that very advice!

5. Agatha Christie made each suspect the murderer. (Murder on the Orient Express).

This was truly clever. What’s an implicit assumption readers make? That one (or possibly two) of the suspects are murderers. We don’t think: They all could have done it! At least we didn’t up until Murder on the Orient Express!

6. Agatha Christie made the murderer a police officer. (Hercule Poirot's Christmas)

In an English cozy police officers can be incompetent, arrogant, rash or stupid but they are not murderers. So Christie decided to make a police officer the murderer in Hercule Poirot's Christmas. And it worked beautifully!

7. Agatha Christie made the murderer a child. (Crooked House)

Kids are sweet and innocent, right? This is an Agatha Christie novel so ... not necessarily!

* * *

As I said at the beginning of this post, the trick to keeping your readers from guessing the murderer is to—in the fairest possible way—trick the reader. Part of this is making the murderer the sort of person we tend not to suspect. Someone we trust.

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Every post I pick something I love and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I’ve loved with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, Amazon puts a few cents in my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

Treat Yourself: 70 Classic Snacks You Loved as a Kid (and Still Love Today), by Jennifer Steinhauer

I LOVED Twinkies as a kid, how about you? Or maybe you preferred Oreos or Fig Newtons? Here’s a book that will helps us recreate the classic oh-so-bad-for-you snacks! I haven’t tried any of these recipes myself—not yet! As soon as I get a kitchen, though, I’m making my own Twinkies. :-)

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Notes:

1. Here I’ve only given one story as an example, but Christie used each of these techniques in many of her books.

How To Write Creative Nonfiction

Today I talk about how to apply some of the tried and true principles fiction writers routinely use. Why? Because I want see to what extent we can apply them to non-fiction. But, first, let’s look at ...

The Power of Words

All writers are readers first so we all have our favorite authors. One reason I wanted to write was because I wanted to enthrall readers the way my favorite authors had enthralled me. One thing I was fascinated by is how words—just words!—could make me laugh or cry or shudder with dread.

For instance, after I finished Stephen King’s IT I was scared to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night (I was a child)—and became convinced that if I allowed my toes to inch their way over the edge of my mattress something black and scaly that lived in the perpetual blackness under my bed would bite them off, snickedy-snack.

How did Stephen King do that? How did his words produce such (delicious) fear in me? Writing is the blackest of magic because it allows one person to make little ink-marks on paper and at the other end produce a terrified child sitting in the middle of her bed desperately trying not to pee herself!

I’ve written about this before in regards to Stephen King (see: The Magic Of Stephen King: How To Write Compelling Characters & Great Openings), but today I’d like to take a look at another writer whose prose I admire: Chuck Wendig.

Wendig has certain flourishes that make me wish I could do that too. I know, different writers are, well, DIFFERENT. And difference is great. We should each of us try and develop our own voice rather than covet that of another. True. But I still find myself reading Chuck Wendig’s posts with a wee bit of envy creeping around the edges of my dark writer's soul.

(I’ll get the warning out of the way now: Chuck Wendig’s blog is NSFW because of adult language and a fertile, extremely creative, imagination! Visit and read at your own risk: Terribleminds.com.)

Fiction and nonfiction writing are more similar than they are different.

I’ve always felt that good writing is good writing whether we’re talking about a short story that makes you want to crawl into your bed and cry for three days or a darn good recipe for lemon meringues (I’m looking at you Nigella Lawson).

I feel that whatever principles are at work when (slightly shaken and knowing I’ve condemned myself to a month of nightmares) Stephen King captivates me with his prose, or I am kept spellbound by an article in The New Yorker (for example, Anthony Bourdain’s Moveable Feast, by Patrick Radden Keefe) or I empathically bond with Nigella Lawson over the necessity of fluffy pancakes in the morning, calories be damned! When ANY kind of writing pulls me in, leaves me spellbound, whether that writing be fiction or nonfiction, recipe focused or a murder mystery, that the same essential core elements are at work.

So let’s test this theory, shall we? :-)

5 Elements of Character

For years I’ve directed folks to Jim Butcher’s posts on writing over on his Livejournal account and, IMHO, one of his best is Characters where he lays out what it is that makes a character interesting.

Now while I totally and completely agree that the following, as JB puts it, “consistently make a team contribution” to a terrific character, I think they may also apply more broadly. But more on that later. He’s the team:

A. Exaggeration
B. Exotic Position
C. Introduction
D. Verisimilitude
E. Empathy

(By the way, I’ve written about these in my article: How To Write Characters Your Readers Will Love: Character Checklist)

Now let’s test this theory using Chuck Wendig’s writing.

Terribleminds.com

I love Chuck Wendig’s writing. It’s got attitude. It bites and snarls and breathes fire. It’s different. Snarky.

He knows how to grab readers, how to draw them in. And I would like to examine—or  attempt to examine—HOW he does it. What qualities does his writing have that make me love it? How does it work?

So I’m going to present you with (brief!) passages of Chuck Wendig’s work that I particularly loved and see if it falls into one of Jim Butcher’s categories. I can’t emphasize enough that this is an experiment!

Now, I’d like to be clear about something, these are passages of CW’s writing that I loved. You might not, and that’s oaky! Also, you might disagree with how I analyze them, what categories I put them under. That’s okay too! If you’d like to share, tell me how you’d categorize them. I guess what I’m trying to say is don’t take this too seriously, it’s just my own musings. In this area truth really is in the eye of the beholder. If it works for you then it works, and it it doesn’t then it doesn’t and that’s okay too.

A. Exaggeration

Here’s a passage I think nicely demonstrates how exaggeration can help spice up a passage.

“You look at it [a tiny house], and you think: I can do that. I can get healthy. I will juice cleanse and then eat asparagus and chia seeds for the rest of my life, [...] I’ll be healthy as a horse. A robot horse. A robot horse who will live forever and be the handsomest robot horse ever. I’ll lose this weight. People will admire my lean frame and my culinary judiciousness. I’ll eat like a rabbit. I will defy gluten and cast sugar into the sea and JUST SAY NO to pizzas and ice creams and tacos and all I will eat are these rods of asparagus and these spoonfuls of chia seeds and once a week for dessert I will treat myself with these delicious crackers made from ancient grains [...]. For sweetness, I will mist them with agave syrup the way the lady at the fragrance counter mists you with perfume as you walk past.”[1]

There’s a lot going on in there besides exaggeration. Chuck Wendig loves lists, and he especially loves lists that grow increasingly exotic/grotesque (but grotesque in a good way!) toward the end. For example ...

B. Exotic Position

Exaggeration and Exotic Position are by no means mutually exclusive. You noticed in the above quotation that there was exotic position as well:

“I’ll be healthy as a horse. A robot horse. A robot horse who will live forever and be the handsomest robot horse ever.”

Also:

“My family loves it. And they’re not just saying that because of the trap doors underneath their chairs that trigger whenever they say anything negative about me or my food.”[2]

Also:

“Enter you people. Hunters of tiny houses. Cave-humans once stalked lions on the veldt, but you intrepid hunters track itty-bitty homes — houses compressed down like coal until they become the shining diamonds of Spartan living.” [1]

Also:

“Now, the nice way to put it would be: writing means taking risks. Risks are — *bites lip, narrows eyes, smolders generally* — sexy. Nngh. Yeah. Take a risk with me, baby. Drive fast. Live loose. Eat raw cookie dough naked in the saddle of a galloping velociraptor. Boom. Risks. Yes.”[4]

That’s. Just. Awesome!!! It’s like a mini story. Which reminds me of something Stephen King said in On Writing[http://amzn.to/2movcNh] about paragraphs being the atoms of storytelling, but I’ll save that for another post.

As you can see, these examples involve Exaggeration as well as Exotic Position. As Jim Butcher writes, “While this [exotic position] is in actuality just another facet of exaggeration, there are enough differences to make it worth its own heading.”

What are these differences? JB says it hinges on: “Locating your character in an unusual location or situation.”[3]

In one of the quotations I just gave CW has his family perched atop trap doors that spring open at the slightest hint of negativity, I think that qualifies as an unusual situation!

But JB doesn’t stop there. He mentions several lenses we can view this through: social, geographic, intellectual and moral.

I’d say the trap door quotation is both social and moral. If CW had perched his family on the edge of a volcano we could add in geographic (though I don’t think there’s any pressure to hit more than one category at the same time!).

Intellectual ... the movie Limitless[http://amzn.to/2liBEA5] (2011) comes to mind. You know, that movie about the guy who takes a pill and becomes inhumanly smart? That’s exotic position for you! He’s not just smart, he’s the smartest guy in the world, and it’s killing him!

According to JB here’s the key to grabbing reader interest: Choose something “unusual enough to be memorable and interesting.”[3]

C. Introduction

Jim Butcher writes:

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression. When your reader meets any given character for the first time, it is critical to make sure you get the bare bones of your character into his head immediately. By establishing your character firmly, you'll make the whole process of virtual-story-world-creation move more quickly and easily. There are multiple techniques for planning a strong introduction, but I'm only going to hit on the strongest one: CHARACTERISTIC ENTRY ACTION.”[3]

This applies to introducing characters, but I think it also might to non-fiction as well. For instance, the first time a person picks up a particular story you’ve written you—by way of your prose—are making a first impression.

For example, in the above quotation try substituting “voice” for “character,” that works too!

So, what general principles can character introductions tell us about how to write prose that sparkles regardless of whether we’re writing fiction or non-fiction? I’m going to answer that question but, first, let’s look at the role conflict plays in developing a unique character.

Conflict and contrast.

A great character is a unique character. Which means we need to make sure they are different from each and every other character in our story. How do we do this? By creating conflicts that are UNIQUE TO THEM. One could argue that a character JUST IS her conflicts. Her essence is laid bare by how that character handles the obstacles that are placed in her way. These are the obstacles that keep her from obtaining what she wants most, from achieving her heart’s desire. (And, of course, this is true in real life! How one acts when one’s deepest desires are thwarted shows who one really is, it bares one’s soul.)

What I’m going to take away from this for non-fiction writing is: be yourself. If you let you be you then, since you’re unique, your writing will be too. This is all about finding your voice and I know that sounds nebulous and frustrating, but one thing that CW has done, and for me it’s the appeal of his writing, is he’s definitely found his voice! And, which is just as important, having found it he’s not afraid to use it! He lets it out to play. It’s big and bold and he doesn’t shrink back from that.

In the following I’d like you to read the quotations but, more than anything, look at the WAY CW writes. Look at the things he leaves out, listen to the words, the flow, the rhythm. The big flamboyance of it. The following quotations were drawn from CW’s (excellent!) essay: “An Open Letter to Tiny House Hunters.”[1] Notice how he (a writer of horror) uses words and phrases suggestive of death and confined spaces:

“adorable little tomb” (my favorite!)

“Because sure, kids and animals like nothing more than being crammed together in a piano crate, forced to share their limited oxygen while Mommy and Daddy make clumsy, grunting love in the casket-sized open-air loft above everybody’s heads...”

“the ashes of your parents”

“...your bed is going to be a claustrophobic morgue-drawer nightmare.”

“...yes, that is a tiny closet, and it will hold no more than the suit or dress in which they will bury you.”

“Your dogs want to run and jump and — I mean, they’re not hamsters, you understand that, right? They’re not hamsters, and you’re not diminutive little fairy creatures, and tiny houses are not houses, they’re GI Joe playsets, they’re hipster sepulchers, they’re absurdist shoebox dioramas.”

Look at the last quotation. You feel that, right? The rhythm. You feel how it sweeps you up and carries you along with it.

D. Verisimilitude

I’m going to adopt JB’s convention when talking about verisimilitude and just call it “V-factor,” which is infinitely more pleasurable to type. If your character has V-factor it means they act believably. JB says one needs to “convey to the reader the sense that your character is a whole, full person with his own life outside the purview of this particular story.”

How do you do this? Through sequels[http://blog.karenwoodward.org/2014/04/parts-of-story-sequels-their-structure.html]:

“The single most important technique for doing that [creating believability] is through showing your character's: 1. EMOTIONS 2. REACTIONS and 3. DECISIONS. When something happens in your story, a character with a decent V-factor will react to it. The reader will see his emotional reaction played out, will gain a sense of the logic of a question or problem, and will recognize that the character took a believable, appropriate course of action in response.”[3]

Also, one increases V-factor through the use of tags and traits. (Which I’ve written about here: Tags & Traits: Characterization And Building Empathy[http://blog.karenwoodward.org/2013/06/tags-traits-characterization-and-building-empathy.html].)

The point is: be consistent with how the character makes decisions. And IF your character’s behavior varies, if he makes an unusual decision that’s okay, you just need to show why this is, you need to show what he’s reacting to. Also, be CONSISTENT with tags and traits. Don’t change the color of your character’s eyes halfway through the story, that’s an obvious no-no, but also have the character’s reactions be consistent. If he always leers at the pretty women he passes but he doesn’t leer this one time, why? Was he in deep thought, had the last girl he leered at beaten him up previously, is there something wrong with his eyes? Is he under the influence of a spell?

You might be thinking that’s all well and good but how could we apply this to non-fiction? Great question!

Every essay is, essentially, an argument. Take CW’s essay about Tiny Homes.[1] He’s saying look, live your life—you do you—but I think it’s a crazy idea and here’s why. In THIS essay I’m saying, Look, these techniques are great for fiction but non-fiction writers can get something out of them too!

Beyond that, for ANY argument, consistency is key. Be clear about what the facts are (this is what a tiny home is, this is how many square feet you’ll have, this is the kind of toilet you’ll have, this is the size of your closet, and so on), be clear about the inferences you draw from those facts (you’ll never be able to eat beans again and your dogs will hate you) and be clear about how these are linked to your eventual conclusion (if you want your family to be happy then don’t buy a tiny home).

E. Empathy

Jim Butcher writes:

“If you can manage to create a vivid character in a reader's mind, then establish him as someone believable, you have a real shot at the Holy Grail of character design. If you do your job, you will create a sense of empathy in your reader for your characters. This is what makes people burst out laughing while reading. It's what makes readers cry, or cheer, or run off to take a cold shower.”[3]

There’s an essay Stephen King wrote, and I wish I could tell you the name of it but I don’t remember. It was shoved into the back of one of his novels. In it he talked about his early days, about finding the books his dad liked to read and how that influenced him as a child. He talked about his mom and how she was (in the best possible way) a little bit crazy, but in a way that made her unique and very special. And he talked about how that specialness leeched away when she moved back home to care for her ailing mother. At the end of the essay he talks about his mother’s death—and, sure, I remembered my own mother’s death and cried with him here—but the real gut wrenching part comes at the end of the piece. I won’t spoil it for you, I think it is some of King’s best writing, the way he wove the theme through the piece and brought everything home at the end.

My point is that I know from personal experience—as I’m sure you do—that non-fiction writing can evoke strong emotional reactions. I think this is a hallmark of all good writing. Which, of course, isn’t to say that if no one cried while reading “An Open Letter to Tiny House Hunters” that it was a flop. But, that said, CW’s piece did succeed in evoking emotion in me. At the end of the post I saw Tiny Houses a bit more like painted tombs than viable places to live which is to say that, by the end, the phrase “tiny home” evoked a cold shudder of dread.

Okay, so, that was the first part. We just looked at how five parts of character—exaggeration, exotic position, introduction, verisimilitude (V-factor) and empathy—can not only help develop characters readers will care about, but that they can also be useful points to keep in mind when writing non-fiction.

In the second part I want to go over what I’m calling “Interesting Flourishes” but only because it’s past my bedtime and I can’t think of a more creative title!

Interesting Flourishes

1. Lists of the increasingly absurd. Repetition. Meter. Rhythm.

For example:

“You know the things that give you solace. Friends. Loved ones. Ice cream. A Netflix binge. An oil drum full of schnapps.”

No commentary required!

2. Be fearless and live on the edge.

I think part of this could be a personality thing. Even when I write I’m kinda shy and tend to run various possibilities, various sentence constructions, through my head before I pick the one that I think PROBABLY won’t get my book either put down with a bored sigh or thrown across the room in a fit of aggrieved rage.

Which is probably why the following passage hit me like a bullet between the eyes:

Tempt failure.

March right up to it. Always write as if you’re about to fall on your face. Add fire. Bring the char. Toss in a weird ingredient. I wrote several _meh_ books before I finally hit with Blackbirds — and when I hit with Blackbirds, it was because I had lost the capacity to care about fucking up. I felt I had already tried everything safe, everything expected. I’d already walked all the paths and followed every map and I still wasn’t writing anything of substance, so I chugged some whiskey, bit a belt, and went hard into that story because I felt like I had nothing to lose. I no longer cared if I failed. That allowed me to no longer be hesitant, to dismiss the fear of failure because I certainly wasn’t succeeding — hard-charging into that unseen fog was liberating, and it produced not only a successful book, but one whose series continues today. Using present tense inside Star Wars was controversial, in part because tie-in-fiction tends to not go that way. Some hated that choice, some loved it, and that’s where I’d rather be. I’d rather be in a place where some people love the book and some people despise it instead of everyone saying, “It was fine, sure, it was a book, and I read it, and now I forget it.”[4]

One thing that stands out to me here is the honesty with which it was written. I think this ties back into what I said before about V-factor and empathy.

3. Putting it together: Building to a punch.

I touched on this, above, but I think it’s important enough to revisit the point.

“Some [tiny houses] look like little cabins! Others like chic trailers! Others still are shipping containers, or hobbit houses, or weird Transformers that expand and contract like a breathing lung.”

The above has a shape all it’s own. It has rhythm. We start out with a perfectly good, perfectly ordinary sentence and end up with transformers and breathing lungs!

“You then say, ‘This is cute,’ but you say it in the way someone says it when they’re looking at someone wearing a homemade sweater. You don’t mean it. You look terrified, like an otter trapped in a cardboard tube.”

I love the comment about the homemade sweater because ... yeah. It’s true. Again, we’ve gone from somewhere ordinary and placid to a place where terrified baby otters are trapped in cardboard tubes.

4. Alliteration

“I admire your desire to lean into austerity and trim the fat from your life, but unless you have a huge property, shoving a family of 6 into one of these turtle terrariums is something some people have to do, but they wouldn’t choose to do it, y’know? [emphasis mine]”

5. Comparison. A is like B.

“Right now, for me — and maybe for you — making art is like oral surgery on a rabid bear.”

That’s it! I hope I’ve made some sense. This is an epic post—at least, it’s epically long! I want to come back and revisit some of these themes later. I hope you found something in it helpful. :-)

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Every post I pick something I love and recommend it. This serves two purposes. I want to share what I’ve loved with you, and, if you click the link and buy anything over at Amazon within the next 24 hours, Amazon puts a few cents into my tip jar at no cost to you. So, if you click the link, thank you! If not, that’s okay too. I’m thrilled and honored you’ve visited my blog and read my post.

Today I'd like to recommend any of Chuck Wendig's books! He's a fabulous writer but be warned: He writes horror. Psychological horror, sure, but also horror of the more gut twisting varieties. Be warned. :-) Though, that said, he has written three Star Wars books!

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Notes:

1. An Open Letter To Tiny House Hunters, by Chuck Wendig.

2. You Want To Marry This Breakfast Fried Rice And Have Its Babies, by Chuck Wendig.

3. Character, by Jim Butcher.

4. Write Unafraid, Without Fear Of Failure, by Chuck Wendig.