Warren Bull's Blog, page 7
June 3, 2011
Sexist Language
FRIDAY, JUNE 3, 2011
Sexist Langage
Sexist Language
As Ramona DeFelice Long posted on Facebook on 5/26/11, the word “slut” has no place in politics. People responded with the observation that there is no equivalent word for “slut” for males in everyday language in English. “Whoremonger” is no longer used. “Skirt-chaser” and "Lecher" seem weak by comparison and “hound dog” is a euphemism. "Don Juan", "Casanova" and "Lothario" have literary romantic, almost heroic overtones. “Womanizer” seems to me to link wrongdoing with the word base woman. Have you ever heard the word “manizer?” I have known men to refer to themselves as sluts with the meaning generally associated with that word, but only on rare occasions and probably because there is no obvious alternative word.
Sexism is deeply ingrained in our language and in common usage. So deeply that it is hard to avoid. Someone might “master” a skill with all the gender and slavery related implications of that word. Does anyone mistress a skill? Are children ever told to, “Take it like a woman?”
Do leaders encourage their followers to, “Woman up?”
One of Ramona’s responders commented in essence: There is no male equivalent for “bitch.” “Son of a bitch” puts the onus back on women. So does “bastard” by implication.
I read an article on the top of Want Ads section of my local paper that reported a study comparing letters of recommendation for men and for women. Regardless of the gender of the writer, women were more likely to be praised for their “leadership potential.” Men were more likely to be praised for their “leadership.”
I also read an article not long ago about a woman on the board of directors of a major corporation. The article was a complimentary brief biography. Toward the end it mentioned that after her picture appeared in a newsletter to shareholders, (along with a picture of every other board member) she got a letter from a stranger proposing marriage. I wondered about the agenda of the reporter. Was that supposed to be funny? If any of the male directors had received such a letter would that have been mentioned? Why mention it at all?
I don’t remember the gender of the reporter but my perception is that some members of both genders use sexist language when referring to women
So how should we deal with sexist language?
Sexist Langage
Sexist Language
As Ramona DeFelice Long posted on Facebook on 5/26/11, the word “slut” has no place in politics. People responded with the observation that there is no equivalent word for “slut” for males in everyday language in English. “Whoremonger” is no longer used. “Skirt-chaser” and "Lecher" seem weak by comparison and “hound dog” is a euphemism. "Don Juan", "Casanova" and "Lothario" have literary romantic, almost heroic overtones. “Womanizer” seems to me to link wrongdoing with the word base woman. Have you ever heard the word “manizer?” I have known men to refer to themselves as sluts with the meaning generally associated with that word, but only on rare occasions and probably because there is no obvious alternative word.
Sexism is deeply ingrained in our language and in common usage. So deeply that it is hard to avoid. Someone might “master” a skill with all the gender and slavery related implications of that word. Does anyone mistress a skill? Are children ever told to, “Take it like a woman?”
Do leaders encourage their followers to, “Woman up?”
One of Ramona’s responders commented in essence: There is no male equivalent for “bitch.” “Son of a bitch” puts the onus back on women. So does “bastard” by implication.
I read an article on the top of Want Ads section of my local paper that reported a study comparing letters of recommendation for men and for women. Regardless of the gender of the writer, women were more likely to be praised for their “leadership potential.” Men were more likely to be praised for their “leadership.”
I also read an article not long ago about a woman on the board of directors of a major corporation. The article was a complimentary brief biography. Toward the end it mentioned that after her picture appeared in a newsletter to shareholders, (along with a picture of every other board member) she got a letter from a stranger proposing marriage. I wondered about the agenda of the reporter. Was that supposed to be funny? If any of the male directors had received such a letter would that have been mentioned? Why mention it at all?
I don’t remember the gender of the reporter but my perception is that some members of both genders use sexist language when referring to women
So how should we deal with sexist language?
May 19, 2011
Review of Murder Manhattan Style
FRIDAY, APRIL 29, 2011
Book Review and Question
"From the hilltop I can see rolling green hills and a clear unlimited horizon. The prairie flowers have erupted into crimson, yellow, orange and blue. They sweeten the air. I smell smoke from the fire and the sweat of horses."
Murder Manhattan Style Reviewed by Sarah Hilary available at: http://www.ninthmonthpublishing.com/b...
A great friend of mine, playwright and Hollywood screenwriter, was fond of giving this advice to aspiring writers: "Keep the mythic distance!" By which it was generally assumed that he meant never allow the viewer or reader to get close enough, to screen or page, to spy processes or flaws which might show up the finished product as anything less than epic.
Warren Bull is happy to show us these processes (and occasionally flaws) between thought and page, first draft and last, unpublished and published prose. At the end of each story in his collection, he footnotes how it came about, or what its fate was at the hands of a precarious small press publishing industry (one story was accepted for an anthology that was subsequently "scrapped due to finances"). I was torn between admiring his candour and wishing he’d not revealed so much of his craft. I wanted to believe in the storyteller’s magic by which he recreates scenes from 1850s mid-America, with its cowboys and Indians, or New York in the 1930s.
There are stories here that transport the reader, perhaps because Bull is a psychologist and effortlessly taps into the minds and voices of his characters. More than one story is written convincingly from the perspective of a young girl. In A Lady of Quality, the heroine is African-American, called from the cotton fields to work as a servant in a white household. Bull writes her voice so authentically that it’s almost a pity there aren’t more stories told by this narrator in the collection.
Diversity is another of his talents. Bull takes us from "Bleeding Kansas" in 1858 to a modern day Manhattan ghetto where justice is dealt out with equal brutality. There are upbeat, funny stories. There are downbeat, noir stories. Don’t be fooled by the shlocky cover (not the first time a short story collection will be ill-served by its publisher’s cover choice, and probably not the last), these stories cover distances and time, and mood, without losing a beat.
One or two stories suffer from odd pacing, ending too abruptly or moving too fast during sections which should unravel more intricately. Locard’s Principle feels as if it’s an exploratory outline for a novel, rather than a short story. But Bull is a master at the opening paragraph; there isn’t one here that doesn’t grab you by the throat. Acknowledging Funeral Games as darker than his average story, Bull fails to point out it’s also one of his very best, opening with a corpse and progressing as smoothly as a Raymond Chandler tale, through a sequence of excellent surprises to a satisfying denouement. Heidegger’s Cat is another example of Bull at his best, its political subtext as interesting as its pin-sharp, real-time action.
While it was interesting, in one sense, to read Bull’s footnotes to the stories, I’d suggest he drops them from any future collection; they seem amateurish, while the stories themselves are anything but. Keep the mythic distance, Warren!
Susan Hilary won the Sense Creative Award in 2010, and the Fish Criminally Short Histories Prize in 2008. He fiction appears in The Fish Anthology, Smokelong Quarterly, The Best of Every Day Fiction I, II and III, and in the Crime Writers; Association anthology. MO Crimes of Practice. She was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2009 and Highly Commended in the Sean O’Faolain short story competition 2010. Sarah is currently working on a novel. He agent is Jane Gregory.
Book Review and Question
"From the hilltop I can see rolling green hills and a clear unlimited horizon. The prairie flowers have erupted into crimson, yellow, orange and blue. They sweeten the air. I smell smoke from the fire and the sweat of horses."
Murder Manhattan Style Reviewed by Sarah Hilary available at: http://www.ninthmonthpublishing.com/b...
A great friend of mine, playwright and Hollywood screenwriter, was fond of giving this advice to aspiring writers: "Keep the mythic distance!" By which it was generally assumed that he meant never allow the viewer or reader to get close enough, to screen or page, to spy processes or flaws which might show up the finished product as anything less than epic.
Warren Bull is happy to show us these processes (and occasionally flaws) between thought and page, first draft and last, unpublished and published prose. At the end of each story in his collection, he footnotes how it came about, or what its fate was at the hands of a precarious small press publishing industry (one story was accepted for an anthology that was subsequently "scrapped due to finances"). I was torn between admiring his candour and wishing he’d not revealed so much of his craft. I wanted to believe in the storyteller’s magic by which he recreates scenes from 1850s mid-America, with its cowboys and Indians, or New York in the 1930s.
There are stories here that transport the reader, perhaps because Bull is a psychologist and effortlessly taps into the minds and voices of his characters. More than one story is written convincingly from the perspective of a young girl. In A Lady of Quality, the heroine is African-American, called from the cotton fields to work as a servant in a white household. Bull writes her voice so authentically that it’s almost a pity there aren’t more stories told by this narrator in the collection.
Diversity is another of his talents. Bull takes us from "Bleeding Kansas" in 1858 to a modern day Manhattan ghetto where justice is dealt out with equal brutality. There are upbeat, funny stories. There are downbeat, noir stories. Don’t be fooled by the shlocky cover (not the first time a short story collection will be ill-served by its publisher’s cover choice, and probably not the last), these stories cover distances and time, and mood, without losing a beat.
One or two stories suffer from odd pacing, ending too abruptly or moving too fast during sections which should unravel more intricately. Locard’s Principle feels as if it’s an exploratory outline for a novel, rather than a short story. But Bull is a master at the opening paragraph; there isn’t one here that doesn’t grab you by the throat. Acknowledging Funeral Games as darker than his average story, Bull fails to point out it’s also one of his very best, opening with a corpse and progressing as smoothly as a Raymond Chandler tale, through a sequence of excellent surprises to a satisfying denouement. Heidegger’s Cat is another example of Bull at his best, its political subtext as interesting as its pin-sharp, real-time action.
While it was interesting, in one sense, to read Bull’s footnotes to the stories, I’d suggest he drops them from any future collection; they seem amateurish, while the stories themselves are anything but. Keep the mythic distance, Warren!
Susan Hilary won the Sense Creative Award in 2010, and the Fish Criminally Short Histories Prize in 2008. He fiction appears in The Fish Anthology, Smokelong Quarterly, The Best of Every Day Fiction I, II and III, and in the Crime Writers; Association anthology. MO Crimes of Practice. She was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2009 and Highly Commended in the Sean O’Faolain short story competition 2010. Sarah is currently working on a novel. He agent is Jane Gregory.
May 18, 2011
Nancy Pickard and I Discuss Short Stories
Warren Bull and Nancy Pickard Discuss the Mystery Short Story"
Note from Warren: I've been working with this text for hours and I cannot get the format to appear as I want it. The errors are mine. Please see the Border Crime page in Facebook for a more readable copy.
Sisters in Crime Feb. 5, 2011 Meeting
“When the two riders appeared out of nowhere, I knew they came to kill my pa.” So begins our own Warren Bull’s short story, “Beecher’s Bibles.” That first line gives a sense of time. “Those two riders aren’t on Harleys,” Warren said. The word “pa” also implies it’s historical. Finally, it sets the scene for the story and draws the reader in. What happens next?
Warren invited friend and fellow short story writer Nancy Pickard to help him present the February program on writing mystery short stories. The first line of the story is crucial, and Warren said it can take as long to come up with the right first line as it takes to write the rest of the story. Warren got his start writing short stories because of the Manhattan Mystery Conclave’s contest. (For which he wrote the winning story!) Since then, he’s had a number of stories published and now has his own collection of short stories available: Murder Manhattan Style. Short stories present different challenges from writing novels. You don’t have a lot of words.
Here are some of the elements discussed by Warren and Nancy:
• Characterization must be achieved quickly. Warren said that can be accomplished with a few well-chosen words of description, such as this line: “When I met her, I figured she was the sort of girl who ironed her own socks.” Dialogue helps define character and Warren finds writing in first person does, too.
• Pacing must be tight. Action must start immediately in a short story. It’s a struggle for horror writers who like to set up the mood and atmosphere, said Nancy.
• A crucible moment should be part of every short story, according to Harlan Ellison, Nancy said. That’s a severe test that may be the most important moment in that character’s life.
• Epiphany is another important element in a short story. Every story needs that “ah-ha” moment, said Nancy. Learning that at a writer’s conference at William Jewell College in the early 1980s completely changed her approach to writing short stories, she said, and she was much more successful after that.
• The iceberg describes the form of a short story, according to Ernest Hemingway. Warren said what you see and read in the story is only part of what’s going on.
• Endings of mystery short stories do tend to be resolved and tied up neatly – frequently with a twist – and often with plenty of surprises along the way, as opposed to the sometimes ambiguous endings of literary short stores.
You can see these elements in Nancy’s and Warren’s favorite short stories. Nancy likes “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” by Hemingway (read it at http://www.mrbauld.com/hemclean.html )and “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” by J.D. Salinger (read it at http://www.nyx.net/~kbanker/chautauqu... )
One of Warren’s favorites is short enough to be reprinted here in its entirety:
The Soap Bubble
It is.
It was.
“It’s a completely satisfying story with a popping good ending,” Warren said.
Other advice: Follow the directions exactly for submissions to contests, anthologies and magazines. Don’t believe that if the editor likes the story enough, he or she will take the time to correct grammar, punctuation and format. (As a former magazine editor, I cannot emphasize this one enough. Editors are stressed-out people with too much to do; make their jobs easier and they’ll love you.)
Markets: Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock magazines. Anthologies. E-zines. Check out http://sandraseamans.blogspot.com/ for a list. Contests such as the one for Mystery Writers of America. More info: Warren’s blog at http://Writerswhokill.blogspot.com/
Note from Warren: I've been working with this text for hours and I cannot get the format to appear as I want it. The errors are mine. Please see the Border Crime page in Facebook for a more readable copy.
Sisters in Crime Feb. 5, 2011 Meeting
“When the two riders appeared out of nowhere, I knew they came to kill my pa.” So begins our own Warren Bull’s short story, “Beecher’s Bibles.” That first line gives a sense of time. “Those two riders aren’t on Harleys,” Warren said. The word “pa” also implies it’s historical. Finally, it sets the scene for the story and draws the reader in. What happens next?
Warren invited friend and fellow short story writer Nancy Pickard to help him present the February program on writing mystery short stories. The first line of the story is crucial, and Warren said it can take as long to come up with the right first line as it takes to write the rest of the story. Warren got his start writing short stories because of the Manhattan Mystery Conclave’s contest. (For which he wrote the winning story!) Since then, he’s had a number of stories published and now has his own collection of short stories available: Murder Manhattan Style. Short stories present different challenges from writing novels. You don’t have a lot of words.
Here are some of the elements discussed by Warren and Nancy:
• Characterization must be achieved quickly. Warren said that can be accomplished with a few well-chosen words of description, such as this line: “When I met her, I figured she was the sort of girl who ironed her own socks.” Dialogue helps define character and Warren finds writing in first person does, too.
• Pacing must be tight. Action must start immediately in a short story. It’s a struggle for horror writers who like to set up the mood and atmosphere, said Nancy.
• A crucible moment should be part of every short story, according to Harlan Ellison, Nancy said. That’s a severe test that may be the most important moment in that character’s life.
• Epiphany is another important element in a short story. Every story needs that “ah-ha” moment, said Nancy. Learning that at a writer’s conference at William Jewell College in the early 1980s completely changed her approach to writing short stories, she said, and she was much more successful after that.
• The iceberg describes the form of a short story, according to Ernest Hemingway. Warren said what you see and read in the story is only part of what’s going on.
• Endings of mystery short stories do tend to be resolved and tied up neatly – frequently with a twist – and often with plenty of surprises along the way, as opposed to the sometimes ambiguous endings of literary short stores.
You can see these elements in Nancy’s and Warren’s favorite short stories. Nancy likes “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” by Hemingway (read it at http://www.mrbauld.com/hemclean.html )and “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” by J.D. Salinger (read it at http://www.nyx.net/~kbanker/chautauqu... )
One of Warren’s favorites is short enough to be reprinted here in its entirety:
The Soap Bubble
It is.
It was.
“It’s a completely satisfying story with a popping good ending,” Warren said.
Other advice: Follow the directions exactly for submissions to contests, anthologies and magazines. Don’t believe that if the editor likes the story enough, he or she will take the time to correct grammar, punctuation and format. (As a former magazine editor, I cannot emphasize this one enough. Editors are stressed-out people with too much to do; make their jobs easier and they’ll love you.)
Markets: Ellery Queen and Alfred Hitchcock magazines. Anthologies. E-zines. Check out http://sandraseamans.blogspot.com/ for a list. Contests such as the one for Mystery Writers of America. More info: Warren’s blog at http://Writerswhokill.blogspot.com/
May 13, 2011
Review from Juliet Kincaid
Warren Bull’s Murder Manhattan Style
Posted on May 12, 2011 by julietkc
Warren Bull’s Murder Manhattan Style
If you’ve been following my blog, you know I’ve always written about novels before now.
But when I read Warren Bull’s short story collection, MURDER MANHATTAN STYLE, not long ago, I saw the chance to study how a writer develops his fiction skills over time without my having to read a bunch of books. Besides that, the fifteen stories present a tasty sampling of mystery genres.
The collection starts with “Beecher’s Bibles,” “Kansas Justice,” and “Butterfly Milkweed.” All three unfold in first person point of view, but from the perspective of a different member of the same family, the Millers, who lived near Manhattan, Kansas, not long before the Civil War. The first generates considerable suspense when two thugs capture Joshua, the narrator, only twelve, and his stepsister Amy and lie in wait for Joshua’s father. The kids trick the thugs and all ends well. The second is narrated by Amy. These two stories are straight-forward narratives, plot-oriented, and rest firmly on facts as we expect from historical mysteries.
But the third made me sit up and pay attention from the start with the narrator, Mr. Miller, caught in a deadly trap. It hooked me so well that I happily followed the narrator back in time in a well-executed flashback to discover how he hoodwinked the bank robbers who tried to kill him. At the end, the narrator returns us to the present scene and thus completes the frame in this skillfully structured story.
The next three stories, all set in Manhattan, New York, in 1938, are written in the spirit of Damon Runyon. “One Sweet Scam,” “Java Judy,” and “A Detective’s Romance” are very short and very tight. You can see Warren having fun practicing the set-up and pay-off in just a few words. But he’s also playing with voice and getting better at characterizing through it. Here’s a quick quotation from near the start of “Java Judy.” “A doll walks in who looks familiar. I puzzle my noodle until the penny drops.” Isn’t that fun? Plus, the voice clearly evokes the time, place, and Damon Runyon.
The next story, “A Detective’s Romance,” is the only one of the entire collection presented in third person, well chosen because this point of view gives the reader distance from the protagonist and gets the reader involved in figuring the mystery out.
Next we come to “The Wrong Man,” the first in a series of noir detective stories, set in 1947/48. Here Warren shows many of the skills he’s gained. This story has a frame around the main story in the past. It’s short. It’s tight. It’s got a surprise ending, neatly presented.
And the narrative voice rings true. Just look at the first sentence of the story. “The bulls shoved me through the precinct doors and double-timed me down the hall into the interrogation room.” “Bulls” is the right word for cops at this time. The verbs “shoved” and “double-timed” move us right into the story and down that hall so fast we can practically feel it. Also the dialogue in some of the early stories seems stiff, but here it’s snappy. For instance, one of the bulls calls the narrator a runt and another observes that if the narrator “sang,” that is, confessed, he’d sound “like one of the Andrews sisters.”
The next story, “Funeral Games,” another example of noir, is among other things a meditation on war and mortality. The narrator, the title, and the story itself all contribute to the theme of honoring those who’ve served their country.
I’ll leave the rest of the stories for you to discover on your own, except for the last one, “A Lady of Quality,” winner of the Best Short Story of 2006 from the Missouri Authors Guild. Quite rightly, too, as this is a beautifully written story. Like most of the stories in MURDER MANHATTAN STYLE, it’s written in first person and the narrator reaches out and grabs us with her first words: “Listen here.” She commands our attention from the start and holds it in this compelling, yet subtle story of suspense.
As defined by Carolyn Wheat in HOW TO WRITE KILLER FICTION, suspense revolves around a crime that unfolds before our eyes instead of a crime already committed at the start, like more traditional detective fiction. Will the narrator Lizzie, a young black woman in the 1960’s, escape from the velvet-gloved hand of steel of Mrs. Edwards, the white gentlewoman, who’s very aware of her position in the society of a southern town? Will Lizzie even see the trap in time?
Read “A Lady of Quality” and find out. I will tell you, in closing, that this last story shows a clear shift from plot-driven fiction in the earlier stories to character-driven fiction and Warren wrote it with an impeccable grasp of history, great sensitivity to the diction of the narrator, and powerful insight into, as William Faulkner said in his Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech, “the human heart in conflict with itself.”
NEXT TIME, on May 26: Louise Penny’s BURY YOUR DEAD
Meanwhile, happy reading & writing, Juliet
http://julietkincaid.com/2011/05/12/w...
Posted on May 12, 2011 by julietkc
Warren Bull’s Murder Manhattan Style
If you’ve been following my blog, you know I’ve always written about novels before now.
But when I read Warren Bull’s short story collection, MURDER MANHATTAN STYLE, not long ago, I saw the chance to study how a writer develops his fiction skills over time without my having to read a bunch of books. Besides that, the fifteen stories present a tasty sampling of mystery genres.
The collection starts with “Beecher’s Bibles,” “Kansas Justice,” and “Butterfly Milkweed.” All three unfold in first person point of view, but from the perspective of a different member of the same family, the Millers, who lived near Manhattan, Kansas, not long before the Civil War. The first generates considerable suspense when two thugs capture Joshua, the narrator, only twelve, and his stepsister Amy and lie in wait for Joshua’s father. The kids trick the thugs and all ends well. The second is narrated by Amy. These two stories are straight-forward narratives, plot-oriented, and rest firmly on facts as we expect from historical mysteries.
But the third made me sit up and pay attention from the start with the narrator, Mr. Miller, caught in a deadly trap. It hooked me so well that I happily followed the narrator back in time in a well-executed flashback to discover how he hoodwinked the bank robbers who tried to kill him. At the end, the narrator returns us to the present scene and thus completes the frame in this skillfully structured story.
The next three stories, all set in Manhattan, New York, in 1938, are written in the spirit of Damon Runyon. “One Sweet Scam,” “Java Judy,” and “A Detective’s Romance” are very short and very tight. You can see Warren having fun practicing the set-up and pay-off in just a few words. But he’s also playing with voice and getting better at characterizing through it. Here’s a quick quotation from near the start of “Java Judy.” “A doll walks in who looks familiar. I puzzle my noodle until the penny drops.” Isn’t that fun? Plus, the voice clearly evokes the time, place, and Damon Runyon.
The next story, “A Detective’s Romance,” is the only one of the entire collection presented in third person, well chosen because this point of view gives the reader distance from the protagonist and gets the reader involved in figuring the mystery out.
Next we come to “The Wrong Man,” the first in a series of noir detective stories, set in 1947/48. Here Warren shows many of the skills he’s gained. This story has a frame around the main story in the past. It’s short. It’s tight. It’s got a surprise ending, neatly presented.
And the narrative voice rings true. Just look at the first sentence of the story. “The bulls shoved me through the precinct doors and double-timed me down the hall into the interrogation room.” “Bulls” is the right word for cops at this time. The verbs “shoved” and “double-timed” move us right into the story and down that hall so fast we can practically feel it. Also the dialogue in some of the early stories seems stiff, but here it’s snappy. For instance, one of the bulls calls the narrator a runt and another observes that if the narrator “sang,” that is, confessed, he’d sound “like one of the Andrews sisters.”
The next story, “Funeral Games,” another example of noir, is among other things a meditation on war and mortality. The narrator, the title, and the story itself all contribute to the theme of honoring those who’ve served their country.
I’ll leave the rest of the stories for you to discover on your own, except for the last one, “A Lady of Quality,” winner of the Best Short Story of 2006 from the Missouri Authors Guild. Quite rightly, too, as this is a beautifully written story. Like most of the stories in MURDER MANHATTAN STYLE, it’s written in first person and the narrator reaches out and grabs us with her first words: “Listen here.” She commands our attention from the start and holds it in this compelling, yet subtle story of suspense.
As defined by Carolyn Wheat in HOW TO WRITE KILLER FICTION, suspense revolves around a crime that unfolds before our eyes instead of a crime already committed at the start, like more traditional detective fiction. Will the narrator Lizzie, a young black woman in the 1960’s, escape from the velvet-gloved hand of steel of Mrs. Edwards, the white gentlewoman, who’s very aware of her position in the society of a southern town? Will Lizzie even see the trap in time?
Read “A Lady of Quality” and find out. I will tell you, in closing, that this last story shows a clear shift from plot-driven fiction in the earlier stories to character-driven fiction and Warren wrote it with an impeccable grasp of history, great sensitivity to the diction of the narrator, and powerful insight into, as William Faulkner said in his Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech, “the human heart in conflict with itself.”
NEXT TIME, on May 26: Louise Penny’s BURY YOUR DEAD
Meanwhile, happy reading & writing, Juliet
http://julietkincaid.com/2011/05/12/w...
May 7, 2011
Saved by the Critics
ecently I had a short story accepted largely because one of my critique group members pointed out that I had not clarified the monetary value of an amount of a bill for services expressed in the monetary system used at the time of the events; pounds and shillings. I know that. I knew it when I wrote the story but, like many good critics, she pointed out something so obvious that it was little short of amazing I had not seen it on my own. Adding a few words in the revision made the point I was after — the point of the entire story.
In another short story I failed to give the historical time frame. My readers assumed that the hero, who was a World War II veteran, was in his eighties. They wanted to know why the old man was bouncing around on rooftops, fighting gangsters and saving a geriatric damsel in distress. I had not intended to write geezer noir. I just forgot to mention the date of the story, which resulted in a strange and unintentionally humorous adventure.
In fifth grade English I noticed that every time a student story was read that had characters with the same first name as one of my classmates everyone perked up and looked interested. I thought I had discovered the secret of writing popular fiction. I wrote a “story” using the names of the most popular kids in class. My mother read my “story” and tried to warn me. But I had to learn on my own that it’s also a good thing to include a plot. The teacher and students made that abundantly clear. I have never forgotten it. It was good training for a writer.
Feedback about what doesn’t work in my writing is especially helpful. On occasion in my desire to be helpful in critique groups I have been known to share things I believe could be improved in, um, colorful language. I don’t mean I curse. I mean I say things like a writer. One group member started her novel’s first chapter with a cute and well-written description of a woman coming home and playing with her cat. Person after person around the table in the bookstore commented on the high quality of her writing in the scene. Then came my turn.
I suppose my word choice could have been more tactful. I said it was, “boring” and likely to appeal to “all ten people in the English-speaking world fascinated by the idea that woman might play with a cat.”
I pointed out that later in the same chapter the woman locked her weapon in a gun safe and then noticed an unexpected man’s shadow on the wall. I suggested that those events might make an opening for a mystery novel that would interest many more readers than a woman playing with a cat. Just in case you’re wondering she forgave me and we are still friends. I fact she still gives me great advice about writing.
What have critics saved you from?
In another short story I failed to give the historical time frame. My readers assumed that the hero, who was a World War II veteran, was in his eighties. They wanted to know why the old man was bouncing around on rooftops, fighting gangsters and saving a geriatric damsel in distress. I had not intended to write geezer noir. I just forgot to mention the date of the story, which resulted in a strange and unintentionally humorous adventure.
In fifth grade English I noticed that every time a student story was read that had characters with the same first name as one of my classmates everyone perked up and looked interested. I thought I had discovered the secret of writing popular fiction. I wrote a “story” using the names of the most popular kids in class. My mother read my “story” and tried to warn me. But I had to learn on my own that it’s also a good thing to include a plot. The teacher and students made that abundantly clear. I have never forgotten it. It was good training for a writer.
Feedback about what doesn’t work in my writing is especially helpful. On occasion in my desire to be helpful in critique groups I have been known to share things I believe could be improved in, um, colorful language. I don’t mean I curse. I mean I say things like a writer. One group member started her novel’s first chapter with a cute and well-written description of a woman coming home and playing with her cat. Person after person around the table in the bookstore commented on the high quality of her writing in the scene. Then came my turn.
I suppose my word choice could have been more tactful. I said it was, “boring” and likely to appeal to “all ten people in the English-speaking world fascinated by the idea that woman might play with a cat.”
I pointed out that later in the same chapter the woman locked her weapon in a gun safe and then noticed an unexpected man’s shadow on the wall. I suggested that those events might make an opening for a mystery novel that would interest many more readers than a woman playing with a cat. Just in case you’re wondering she forgave me and we are still friends. I fact she still gives me great advice about writing.
What have critics saved you from?
April 21, 2011
Suzanne Adair and Research
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 2011
Suzanne Adair and Research
Bio: Suzanne Adair writes a mystery/suspense series set during the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War. Her first book, Paper Woman, won the 2007 Patrick D. Smith Literature Award from the Florida Historical Society. More recently, Camp Follower was nominated for the 2009 Daphne du Maurier Excellence in Historical Mystery/Suspense Award. Check her web site www.suzanneadair.com or blog www.suzanneadair.typepad.com for more information.
Writers of mysteries, suspense, and thrillers dabble with ligatures, poisons, blades, and firearms. They read up on sociopaths and schizophrenics. They pester cops, hack hard drives, sketch plans on cocktail napkins for invading countries, study how to build bombs and organize cults, and verify procedures for manufacturing street drugs. What fun! And to think that my ex-husband labeled me weird, obsessed, and admitted that my interests scared him. Poor fellow.
So why do we pursue these activities and risk being labeled odd birds? Well, one of our goals is to suspend our readers' sense of disbelief so they'll buy into our fictional worlds. No getting around the fact that world building requires a chunk of research. You must make sure that things work right, or readers will dismiss you.
On the Guppies www.sinc-guppies.org. discussion list several years ago, a subscriber confessed that she'd had her husband duct-tape her mouth, hands, and ankles, then close her into the trunk of her car so she could determine the difficulty of escape. (Note: That's a fate she'd planned for her protagonist in her manuscript.) My initial thought was, "Wow, I never would have trusted my ex to do that." But as I recall, she rewrote the scene because she learned just how difficult it was for a human being to escape duct tape. Do you think she was weird?
The things we do for research are unique and amazing. In my case, early into the first draft ofPaper Woman, I realized that I take modern technology blissfully for granted. You know, stuff like indoor plumbing, central heat and air-conditioning, refrigerators, automobiles, cell phones, even the grocery store. Convenience and accessibility underpin my culture and shape my values and reactions. But during the Revolutionary War more than 225 years ago, very little was convenient or accessible. Danger and scarcity shaped decisions, especially for the middle and lower classes.
How well could a woman of the 21st century comprehend that from reading books and interviewing subject matter experts? Rather poorly, in fact. If I intended to create believable fiction about people who lived a couple of centuries ago, I had to get inside my characters' heads — learn what clothing of the era felt like, which everyday challenges people faced, how their world smelled, tasted, and sounded.
That's why I originally became a Revolutionary War reenactor. My family and I — yes, obsessed as I am, I dragged my family into this hobby — spend a typical reenacting weekend at the site of a historical battle, camped in white canvas army tents with no mosquito screens, dressed in eighteenth-century clothing made of natural fibers such as wool and linen. Our menu is limited by what meals we can prepare over a wood fire. Food sometimes gets eaten scorched; the temperature of an open fire isn't as easy to regulate as the temperature in an oven. Running water? Sometimes available. Flush toilets? If we're lucky. Heat or air-conditioning? Ha ha ha!
This is undoubtedly what prompted one interviewer to tell me, "Honey, you really suffer for your art!" My "suffering" is temporary, a mere forty-eight hour sample of what our foremothers and forefathers dealt with 24/7. My hat's off to them. They were hardy folk.
But the peculiar payoff from hands-on research is the world-broadening effect it has on the researcher. At almost every weekend event I've attended, I've encountered an experience that no one could accurately anticipate from reading a book or interviewing an expert. These experiences have supplied me with a far deeper understanding of the trials faced by eighteenth-century people.
For example, learning to load and fire a musket with powder only, no ball. (Note: Reenactors use only powder. Otherwise, there'd be litigation issues and arrests.). Nothing I'd read prepared me for the noise of the musket, how hot it gets after firing, the weight of it, or how long it takes to reload. One time, I fired a ball in a secluded location, so I could feel the difference in the musket's kick when fully loaded. My smugness over hitting a pine tree at human heart level quickly vanished when I realized the musket ball could have ricocheted and killed someone. How often did that happen in skirmishes 225 years ago?
How about learning to start a fire from flint and steel? (Note: This is an exercise in hyperventilation.) Not until I'd fumbled this feat a few times did I comprehend the impact of natural variables, such as wind and humidity, on establishing a fire when you don't even have the convenience of matches. Try starting a fire with flint and steel on a windy, wintry night.
My family and I reenact on the Crown forces side. For every battle, I watch the three most important guys in my life don scarlet coats and line up on the battlefield with their weapons. Across the field from them is a swarm of guys in blue coats. So I get asked the inevitable questions at booksignings and reenacting events, sometimes shyly, sometimes with indignation. Why have I chosen to portray a loyalist, rather than a patriot? A loser, rather than a winner? A villain, rather than a hero?
Initially, I sought the Crown forces camp because the protagonists of my first two books are neutrals. Since school age, I'd had the patriot point of view drilled into me, and I felt I needed the other point of view to create balanced, believable neutrals on the page. But I remained in the Crown forces camp because I absorbed another truth while there. Soldiers who fought for King George the Third in the colonies didn't see themselves as villains or losers. Neither did many colonists see them as such. History is, indeed, written by the victors, and there are two sides to every conflict. I don't forget that when I develop my characters. The pièce de résistancefrom my research has been raising two sons who have learned to pause and value the other side of an argument.
Research gives me a panoramic, three-dimensional perspective. It enables me to texture my stories differently from those set in contemporary times — and those stories should be different. How believable are fictional worlds in which historical characters are, beneath their period clothing, merely people with their hearts and heads in the 21st century?
My blessings upon you the next time you unroll the duct tape, take fencing lessons, leave another message on the answering machine of an elusive crime reporter, or read up on Charles Manson or Jim Jones. Thanks for stopping by Writers Who Kill blogspot today, and a big thanks to Warren Bull for having me as his guest.
What's the wildest thing you've done for your own research?
Suzanne Adair and Research
Bio: Suzanne Adair writes a mystery/suspense series set during the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War. Her first book, Paper Woman, won the 2007 Patrick D. Smith Literature Award from the Florida Historical Society. More recently, Camp Follower was nominated for the 2009 Daphne du Maurier Excellence in Historical Mystery/Suspense Award. Check her web site www.suzanneadair.com or blog www.suzanneadair.typepad.com for more information.
Writers of mysteries, suspense, and thrillers dabble with ligatures, poisons, blades, and firearms. They read up on sociopaths and schizophrenics. They pester cops, hack hard drives, sketch plans on cocktail napkins for invading countries, study how to build bombs and organize cults, and verify procedures for manufacturing street drugs. What fun! And to think that my ex-husband labeled me weird, obsessed, and admitted that my interests scared him. Poor fellow.
So why do we pursue these activities and risk being labeled odd birds? Well, one of our goals is to suspend our readers' sense of disbelief so they'll buy into our fictional worlds. No getting around the fact that world building requires a chunk of research. You must make sure that things work right, or readers will dismiss you.
On the Guppies www.sinc-guppies.org. discussion list several years ago, a subscriber confessed that she'd had her husband duct-tape her mouth, hands, and ankles, then close her into the trunk of her car so she could determine the difficulty of escape. (Note: That's a fate she'd planned for her protagonist in her manuscript.) My initial thought was, "Wow, I never would have trusted my ex to do that." But as I recall, she rewrote the scene because she learned just how difficult it was for a human being to escape duct tape. Do you think she was weird?
The things we do for research are unique and amazing. In my case, early into the first draft ofPaper Woman, I realized that I take modern technology blissfully for granted. You know, stuff like indoor plumbing, central heat and air-conditioning, refrigerators, automobiles, cell phones, even the grocery store. Convenience and accessibility underpin my culture and shape my values and reactions. But during the Revolutionary War more than 225 years ago, very little was convenient or accessible. Danger and scarcity shaped decisions, especially for the middle and lower classes.
How well could a woman of the 21st century comprehend that from reading books and interviewing subject matter experts? Rather poorly, in fact. If I intended to create believable fiction about people who lived a couple of centuries ago, I had to get inside my characters' heads — learn what clothing of the era felt like, which everyday challenges people faced, how their world smelled, tasted, and sounded.
That's why I originally became a Revolutionary War reenactor. My family and I — yes, obsessed as I am, I dragged my family into this hobby — spend a typical reenacting weekend at the site of a historical battle, camped in white canvas army tents with no mosquito screens, dressed in eighteenth-century clothing made of natural fibers such as wool and linen. Our menu is limited by what meals we can prepare over a wood fire. Food sometimes gets eaten scorched; the temperature of an open fire isn't as easy to regulate as the temperature in an oven. Running water? Sometimes available. Flush toilets? If we're lucky. Heat or air-conditioning? Ha ha ha!
This is undoubtedly what prompted one interviewer to tell me, "Honey, you really suffer for your art!" My "suffering" is temporary, a mere forty-eight hour sample of what our foremothers and forefathers dealt with 24/7. My hat's off to them. They were hardy folk.
But the peculiar payoff from hands-on research is the world-broadening effect it has on the researcher. At almost every weekend event I've attended, I've encountered an experience that no one could accurately anticipate from reading a book or interviewing an expert. These experiences have supplied me with a far deeper understanding of the trials faced by eighteenth-century people.
For example, learning to load and fire a musket with powder only, no ball. (Note: Reenactors use only powder. Otherwise, there'd be litigation issues and arrests.). Nothing I'd read prepared me for the noise of the musket, how hot it gets after firing, the weight of it, or how long it takes to reload. One time, I fired a ball in a secluded location, so I could feel the difference in the musket's kick when fully loaded. My smugness over hitting a pine tree at human heart level quickly vanished when I realized the musket ball could have ricocheted and killed someone. How often did that happen in skirmishes 225 years ago?
How about learning to start a fire from flint and steel? (Note: This is an exercise in hyperventilation.) Not until I'd fumbled this feat a few times did I comprehend the impact of natural variables, such as wind and humidity, on establishing a fire when you don't even have the convenience of matches. Try starting a fire with flint and steel on a windy, wintry night.
My family and I reenact on the Crown forces side. For every battle, I watch the three most important guys in my life don scarlet coats and line up on the battlefield with their weapons. Across the field from them is a swarm of guys in blue coats. So I get asked the inevitable questions at booksignings and reenacting events, sometimes shyly, sometimes with indignation. Why have I chosen to portray a loyalist, rather than a patriot? A loser, rather than a winner? A villain, rather than a hero?
Initially, I sought the Crown forces camp because the protagonists of my first two books are neutrals. Since school age, I'd had the patriot point of view drilled into me, and I felt I needed the other point of view to create balanced, believable neutrals on the page. But I remained in the Crown forces camp because I absorbed another truth while there. Soldiers who fought for King George the Third in the colonies didn't see themselves as villains or losers. Neither did many colonists see them as such. History is, indeed, written by the victors, and there are two sides to every conflict. I don't forget that when I develop my characters. The pièce de résistancefrom my research has been raising two sons who have learned to pause and value the other side of an argument.
Research gives me a panoramic, three-dimensional perspective. It enables me to texture my stories differently from those set in contemporary times — and those stories should be different. How believable are fictional worlds in which historical characters are, beneath their period clothing, merely people with their hearts and heads in the 21st century?
My blessings upon you the next time you unroll the duct tape, take fencing lessons, leave another message on the answering machine of an elusive crime reporter, or read up on Charles Manson or Jim Jones. Thanks for stopping by Writers Who Kill blogspot today, and a big thanks to Warren Bull for having me as his guest.
What's the wildest thing you've done for your own research?
April 7, 2011
Review from The Short Review 4/7/11
"From the hilltop I can see rolling green hills and a clear unlimited horizon. The prairie flowers have erupted into crimson, yellow, orange and blue. They sweeten the air. I smell smoke from the fire and the sweat of horses."
Reviewed by Sarah Hilary
A great friend of mine, playwright and Hollywood screenwriter, was fond of giving this advice to aspiring writers: "Keep the mythic distance!" By which it was generally assumed that he meant never allow the viewer or reader to get close enough, to screen or page, to spy processes or flaws which might show up the finished product as anything less than epic.
Warren Bull is happy to show us these processes (and occasionally flaws) between thought and page, first draft and last, unpublished and published prose. At the end of each story in his collection, he footnotes how it came about, or what its fate was at the hands of a precarious small press publishing industry (one story was accepted for an anthology that was subsequently "scrapped due to finances"). I was torn between admiring his candour and wishing he’d not revealed so much of his craft. I wanted to believe in the storyteller’s magic by which he recreates scenes from 1850s mid-America, with its cowboys and Indians, or New York in the 1930s.
There are stories here that transport the reader, perhaps because Bull is a psychologist and effortlessly taps into the minds and voices of his characters. More than one story is written convincingly from the perspective of a young girl. In A Lady of Quality, the heroine is African-American, called from the cotton fields to work as a servant in a white household. Bull writes her voice so authentically that it’s almost a pity there aren’t more stories told by this narrator in the collection.
Diversity is another of his talents. Bull takes us from "Bleeding Kansas" in 1858 to a modern day Manhattan ghetto where justice is dealt out with equal brutality. There are upbeat, funny stories. There are downbeat, noir stories. Don’t be fooled by the shlocky cover (not the first time a short story collection will be ill-served by its publisher’s cover choice, and probably not the last), these stories cover distances and time, and mood, without losing a beat.
One or two stories suffer from odd pacing, ending too abruptly or moving too fast during sections which should unravel more intricately. Locard’s Principle feels as if it’s an exploratory outline for a novel, rather than a short story. But Bull is a master at the opening paragraph; there isn’t one here that doesn’t grab you by the throat. Acknowledging Funeral Games as darker than his average story, Bull fails to point out it’s also one of his very best, opening with a corpse and progressing as smoothly as a Raymond Chandler tale, through a sequence of excellent surprises to a satisfying denouement. Heidegger’s Cat is another example of Bull at his best, its political subtext as interesting as its pin-sharp, real-time action.
While it was interesting, in one sense, to read Bull’s footnotes to the stories, I’d suggest he drops them from any future collection; they seem amateurish, while the stories themselves are anything but. Keep the mythic distance, Warren!
Sarah Hilary won the Sense Creative Award in 2010, and the Fish Criminally Short Histories Prize in 2008. Her fiction appears in The Fish Anthology, Smokelong Quarterly, The Best of Every Day Fiction I, II and III, and in the Crime Writers’ Association anthology, MO: Crimes of Practice. She was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2009, and Highly Commended in the Sean O’Faolain short story competition 2010. Sarah is currently working on a novel. Her agent is Jane Gregory.
Reviewed by Sarah Hilary
A great friend of mine, playwright and Hollywood screenwriter, was fond of giving this advice to aspiring writers: "Keep the mythic distance!" By which it was generally assumed that he meant never allow the viewer or reader to get close enough, to screen or page, to spy processes or flaws which might show up the finished product as anything less than epic.
Warren Bull is happy to show us these processes (and occasionally flaws) between thought and page, first draft and last, unpublished and published prose. At the end of each story in his collection, he footnotes how it came about, or what its fate was at the hands of a precarious small press publishing industry (one story was accepted for an anthology that was subsequently "scrapped due to finances"). I was torn between admiring his candour and wishing he’d not revealed so much of his craft. I wanted to believe in the storyteller’s magic by which he recreates scenes from 1850s mid-America, with its cowboys and Indians, or New York in the 1930s.
There are stories here that transport the reader, perhaps because Bull is a psychologist and effortlessly taps into the minds and voices of his characters. More than one story is written convincingly from the perspective of a young girl. In A Lady of Quality, the heroine is African-American, called from the cotton fields to work as a servant in a white household. Bull writes her voice so authentically that it’s almost a pity there aren’t more stories told by this narrator in the collection.
Diversity is another of his talents. Bull takes us from "Bleeding Kansas" in 1858 to a modern day Manhattan ghetto where justice is dealt out with equal brutality. There are upbeat, funny stories. There are downbeat, noir stories. Don’t be fooled by the shlocky cover (not the first time a short story collection will be ill-served by its publisher’s cover choice, and probably not the last), these stories cover distances and time, and mood, without losing a beat.
One or two stories suffer from odd pacing, ending too abruptly or moving too fast during sections which should unravel more intricately. Locard’s Principle feels as if it’s an exploratory outline for a novel, rather than a short story. But Bull is a master at the opening paragraph; there isn’t one here that doesn’t grab you by the throat. Acknowledging Funeral Games as darker than his average story, Bull fails to point out it’s also one of his very best, opening with a corpse and progressing as smoothly as a Raymond Chandler tale, through a sequence of excellent surprises to a satisfying denouement. Heidegger’s Cat is another example of Bull at his best, its political subtext as interesting as its pin-sharp, real-time action.
While it was interesting, in one sense, to read Bull’s footnotes to the stories, I’d suggest he drops them from any future collection; they seem amateurish, while the stories themselves are anything but. Keep the mythic distance, Warren!
Sarah Hilary won the Sense Creative Award in 2010, and the Fish Criminally Short Histories Prize in 2008. Her fiction appears in The Fish Anthology, Smokelong Quarterly, The Best of Every Day Fiction I, II and III, and in the Crime Writers’ Association anthology, MO: Crimes of Practice. She was nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2009, and Highly Commended in the Sean O’Faolain short story competition 2010. Sarah is currently working on a novel. Her agent is Jane Gregory.
April 3, 2011
Was Abraham Lincoln a Racist?
On Wednesday April 7th I will blog about "Was Abraham Lincoln a Racist?" on The British Are Coming Ya'll" blog http://www.SuzanneAdair.typepad.com/
March 19, 2011
Between Words
When my friends ask about my writing I usually reply, “I’m always working on something.” At this moment I am not, well except for this blog. Part of being a writer is like pouring raw product into a pipeline. I worked in a boot factory once. I wasn’t very good at it. I did learn about the factory process. While some people cut pieces out of rubber, other people transport the pieces to an assembly line where still others put the various pieces together. Others check to see the assembly is correct, others seal the pieces to make boots, somebody else packs the product and people outside the factory transport them. No doubt others took orders, hired and fired people, kept the books and did other needed activities.
On “the floor” wherever you worked you depended on people earlier in the process to give you what you need for your part of the assembly. Even once I found my best niche (custodian) I was well aware that my mistakes could slow the process and cost the company as well as everyone working there.
Now I am my own assembly line. I just sent off two submissions and I am currently between words. I cannot submit before I identify a possible market. That depends on how the novel/story/essay or whatever turns out. That depends on editing after getting feedback. Before anything is ready for feedback it needs to be sent to my first reader and then extensively revised. But it has to be made ready for my first reader by the constant reviser. He does not get into the picture until the first draft writer finishes providing the raw data known as the first draft. And he has to keep working no matter how much crap he writes and how he shapes it until it fills the mold of a first draft. None of that is possible until the idea has been found by the explorer who wades through the tar pits of my unconscious and wrests the bits and pieces from the muck that might be anything from a saber tooth tiger to a ground sloth. Some pieces come up easily and other fight against removal.
Uh oh, time to clock in. I’m holding myself up. Time to work.
On “the floor” wherever you worked you depended on people earlier in the process to give you what you need for your part of the assembly. Even once I found my best niche (custodian) I was well aware that my mistakes could slow the process and cost the company as well as everyone working there.
Now I am my own assembly line. I just sent off two submissions and I am currently between words. I cannot submit before I identify a possible market. That depends on how the novel/story/essay or whatever turns out. That depends on editing after getting feedback. Before anything is ready for feedback it needs to be sent to my first reader and then extensively revised. But it has to be made ready for my first reader by the constant reviser. He does not get into the picture until the first draft writer finishes providing the raw data known as the first draft. And he has to keep working no matter how much crap he writes and how he shapes it until it fills the mold of a first draft. None of that is possible until the idea has been found by the explorer who wades through the tar pits of my unconscious and wrests the bits and pieces from the muck that might be anything from a saber tooth tiger to a ground sloth. Some pieces come up easily and other fight against removal.
Uh oh, time to clock in. I’m holding myself up. Time to work.
March 18, 2011
Nancy Pickard on Writing
Is Your Prose Flat?
Is your prose flatter than a fiddle left out in the rain?
Does the scene you’ve written lie there on the page like malodorous gym socks on the floor next to the clothes hamper? Is your work as flavorless as Aunt Molly’s tofu casserole?
Well, my friend, step up close. All you need is a taste of Nancy Pickard’s pre-
patented prose perking up process. It’s not fattening and sugar free. It contains
no more alcohol than the law allows, although it can become habit-forming.
It’s not my idea but it works. Here’s how.
Read your piece and check Nancy’s recipe. Does your work include the ingredients
below?
Conflict: Conflict is the basis of all drama. Does somebody want something? Does your heroine want to prove that her best friend did not really spike the postal carrier’s lemonade with powdered oleander? Does she want to survive an attack by the baseball bat wielding rodeo clown?
Action: A movie director does not start filming by shouting, “Think about it.” Something has to happen. It may be internal action as well as external action. Does the scene advance the plot? If it does not, pull out your red pencil and start slashing.
Emotional shift (Turn): Someone should experience a change of emotional state. Although it is usually a character, occasionally it may be the reader. Lee Child’s hero, Jack Reacher, doesn’t show much change in emotion as he decimates the opposition but the author does a masterful job of evoking emotion in readers.
Surprise: There is a reason birthday, special occasion and holiday gifts are almost always wrapped. The gift the recipient gives to the giver is the surprise and excitement he or she shows while unwrapping the present. I suspect part of Steig Larsson’s appeal, despite the need for better editing, is his ability to take his readers unaware. Humor and horror both rely on surprise.
For extra flavor and to enhance emotional involvement by readers, try to use as many senses as possible in every scene. For me sight and sound are easy. I have to look for chances to include the rest.
Will Nancy’s pick-you-up make you a national best-selling author, winner of Agatha, Anthony, Macavity and Shamus awards and many others? Nope, you’ll have to settle for being a better writer and earn awards on your own.
Whoa, no pushing, son. There’s plenty to go around. Yes, Ma’am, that’s it Uncork the bottle. Drink deeply.
Step right up, sir. Step right up.
Count your change before you leave the window.
Is your prose flatter than a fiddle left out in the rain?
Does the scene you’ve written lie there on the page like malodorous gym socks on the floor next to the clothes hamper? Is your work as flavorless as Aunt Molly’s tofu casserole?
Well, my friend, step up close. All you need is a taste of Nancy Pickard’s pre-
patented prose perking up process. It’s not fattening and sugar free. It contains
no more alcohol than the law allows, although it can become habit-forming.
It’s not my idea but it works. Here’s how.
Read your piece and check Nancy’s recipe. Does your work include the ingredients
below?
Conflict: Conflict is the basis of all drama. Does somebody want something? Does your heroine want to prove that her best friend did not really spike the postal carrier’s lemonade with powdered oleander? Does she want to survive an attack by the baseball bat wielding rodeo clown?
Action: A movie director does not start filming by shouting, “Think about it.” Something has to happen. It may be internal action as well as external action. Does the scene advance the plot? If it does not, pull out your red pencil and start slashing.
Emotional shift (Turn): Someone should experience a change of emotional state. Although it is usually a character, occasionally it may be the reader. Lee Child’s hero, Jack Reacher, doesn’t show much change in emotion as he decimates the opposition but the author does a masterful job of evoking emotion in readers.
Surprise: There is a reason birthday, special occasion and holiday gifts are almost always wrapped. The gift the recipient gives to the giver is the surprise and excitement he or she shows while unwrapping the present. I suspect part of Steig Larsson’s appeal, despite the need for better editing, is his ability to take his readers unaware. Humor and horror both rely on surprise.
For extra flavor and to enhance emotional involvement by readers, try to use as many senses as possible in every scene. For me sight and sound are easy. I have to look for chances to include the rest.
Will Nancy’s pick-you-up make you a national best-selling author, winner of Agatha, Anthony, Macavity and Shamus awards and many others? Nope, you’ll have to settle for being a better writer and earn awards on your own.
Whoa, no pushing, son. There’s plenty to go around. Yes, Ma’am, that’s it Uncork the bottle. Drink deeply.
Step right up, sir. Step right up.
Count your change before you leave the window.
