Jennifer Crusie's Blog, page 106

Happiness is Difficult but Nothing But Good Times Ahead

If you’re an American, this was a bad week, especially since we’d been telling ourselves that the worst was over (it wasn’t over). It’s still ten days until inauguration, and the mind boggles at what could happen in ten days. Still, happiness is on the horizon, or at least sane government here, and spring will eventually get here with a lot more people vaccinated, and it’s all going to be all right. And I have a recipe kit to make tahini chocolate chip blondies, except the tahini broke so I don’t have that, but the chocolate chips are all right, so I’m happy.

What made you happy this week?

HWSWAnswers: Characters

And we’re back with more answers to questions you asked earlier in the week. There’ll be more on Monday. Today, it’s all about character.

Nicole asked:

How do you prevent your characters or plot from always being the same thing while on the surface level they aren’t? There are a few authors I’ve read where it’s always the same story in the end – dif plot, but it just feels the same.

Bob:

Honestly, some of mine tend to be the same in many areas. But when I dig into their backstory, I unearth the differences. For me a lot of the differences come in the supporting characters. I’m really having fun with Phoebe, a new character in the Shane book. Also, I change up setting, which is place and time. My new Green Beret series set in the late 70s in New York City lends a uniqueness to them. No computers. No cell phones. Write what you know. Write what you want to know. Write you’re passionate about.

Jenny:

That’s one of those fine line things. The reason people come back to read your second book is because they liked the first one, which is why people get so annoyed with me when there isn’t a dog in the next book. Or it’s not as funny as the last one. But if it’s exactly the same, they say, “Oh, you know, Crusie, another one with a dog.” So I think what you look at is the things that you are always drawn to–angry heroines build a community, say–the things that will snap you back to the center of every story no matter how hard you try to ditch them, and then watch the things you do because they’re fun or knee-jerk decisions for you–dogs, food, banter, whatever.

The things you can’t get away from are the things that make you the storyteller you are. The things you lean on because you’re lazy, those you can change.

Bob:

Good point. Readers want the same, but different. However, my thriller readers won’t necessarily like my Area 51 books. And those readers might not like my Time Patrol books.

Jenny:

And a lot my readers are annoyed because I (a) switched from category to single title, (b) collaborated, (c) stopped writing romance for women’s fiction, (d) didn’t put a dog in it. Change UPSETS people; doing the same thing BORES people, so writers drink.

Bob:

I picked a bad month to stop sniffing glue

Jenny:

In the end, you can only write the story that’s taking up all the real estate in your head; if it’s the same damn thing you can try to shift characters and plot devices, but essentially you are the storyteller you were born to be and those are the stories you have. I think writers who deliberately try to write something radically different from what they usually write are kneecapping the muse; that is, they’re not writing a story that’s pressing them, they’re intellectually trying to write a different kind of story, regardless of what instinct is telling them.

It’s hard enough to write this stuff. I switch around a lot because I have the attention span of a dog (SQUIRREL!), but it would be better for my career if I didn’t. Even so, I’m probably always going to have a heroine with a smart mouth who’s really pissed about something because that’s where my stories come from. I can play a little bit with supporting characters, settings, plot aspects, but I’m always going to start with her.

Bob:

My subjects are all over the place as well as genre, if that counts.

Jenny:

That’s true. But you’ve always got the focused hero who’s kinda grim, even when she’s female.

Bob Mayer:

Except my elf book.

Jenny:

You wrote an elf book?

Bob:

Not yet. It’s going to be an elf in a horror story.

Jenny:

Okay. Horror elf. But he’ll still be a grim bastard with a Glock. We are what we write.

No, We write what we are.

Not that I’m angry.

Bob:

I’m a happy go lucky guy. Seriously. Or I’ll shoot you.

Jenny:

Fifteen years, Bob, that’s how long I’ve known you. You have never been happy-go-lucky.

It’s part of your charm.

Nicole asked:

How do you prevent a side character from being very one dimensional and trope based? Protags somewhat as well, but more space to play there. And villains- important, likely as much page time as side characters or less. How to make them unique without more page space? Generally, but also what do you do when you realize you’ve written a character that falls into this trap?

Bob:

Being honest, re-reading some of my early books I had some trope characters. But now, I make characters as interesting as possible. I’ll spend an entire 20 mile bike ride ruminating on a character, leaning forward and recording notes about them. I want each one to have something that makes them distinct. I love the series Derry Girls. Every single character in that show is unique, from the girls to the nuns, to every person they run ito. I love watching Orla, who doesn’t say much but is always doing weird stuff in the background that’s hilarious. I also want to know their secrets. One at least. i just wrote a scene with Xavier who’s talking about running off with Evie Keyes at the end of Agnes and he’s explaining what happened and he drops some secrets on Shane. Except, Shane has to wonder if he’s telling the truth or was doing an interrogation trick of pretending to open to get Shane to open up.

Jenny:

There are two kinds of characters (actually there are a lot of kinds of characters, but for the purposes of this discussion, two): flat and round, also static and dynamic. If all of your characters are round (multi-dimensional) and dynamic (arcing and changing), your story is going to look like the snake scene in Raiders; the ground is moving and the reader can’t tell what’s going on. So you want your major characterrs to be dynamic/round, and your supporting characters to be static/flat. How can you tell which is which? The major characters are the ones that bear the major impact of the plot. What happens in the story hurts them the most, changes them (dynamic) in all the aspects of their live (round). Round characters are multi-dimensional, filling multiple roles in their lives and other people lives. They work, they have families and friends, they have homes and habits, and so on. Their lives are not just their love affairs or their careers, they’re built in layers in all the aspects of their lives that have an impact on them. And then the plot happens and they change, become dynamic figures, and that change shifts the other major characters, like meshed gears in a machine.

The pizza guy, that annoying person at work who just passes by every now and then, the ex who comes into view once or twice, those people don’t change and only connect to the story in one way, in what is essentially the background. They can stay flat.

Bob brought up an interesting way to look at flat characters: they’re characters you don’t wonder about when you read.

Bob:

Unless you’re Stephen King and you spend an entire chapter introducing a character only to kill them at the end. But yeah– if they aren’t recurring, don’t confuse the reader.

Jenny:

If you read a character and think, “I’d like to know more about him,” that’s probably somebody who needs to be a round character. But you read and think, “I really don’t need to know any more about this guy,” it’s a flat character.

CarolC asked:

I think you’ve talked a bit about this before, but I would like to hear more about how to make a character well rounded instead of one dimensional. Examples of both would be helpful.

Jenny:

If a character has only one interest in life (this guy is really hot and he’s all I can think about!) and never changes, that character is one-dimensional. A character who is well-rounded (dynamic, multi-dimensional) has many aspects that inform that character–work, hobbies/play, family, friends, romances, pets, neighbors, life maintenance (car tune-ups, plumbing problems, grocery-shopping), a spectrum of things big and small, all of which provide a different insight into the character. A well-rounded character has many sides, all of which combine to make a whole.

The key is that each side provide a different view into the character. And the differing views combine to make a whole, an integrated personality with a variety of aspects. Think about your own life, about all the roles you play, the things you deal with during the day. You are not your career, you are not your family or your relationships, but those things shape and inform who you are. In Agnes and the Hitman, Agnes was shaped by her past with her family, by her present relationships with Lisa Livia, Joey, Brenda, and her fiancé, by her job trying to get the wedding together and trying to write her column, by her love for the house and all that it means; then Shane climbs through her window and shifts her perspective, and her new relationship with him shifts all her other relationships, what she knows about the wedding she preparing, how she feels about her house . . . Agnes is multi-dimensional not only because she’s spinning a lot of plates, but because the plate-spinning is changing her. Shane is defined by his job and the way he feels about it, but also by his relationship with Joey, his dealings with his past that he confronts now with Joey, Lisa Livia, and Brenda; and above all by his relationships with Carpenter and Agnes. All of those things arc during the book, and so does Shane’s character.

Bob:

Characters aren’t at Maslow’s highest level of self-awareness. The hardest part is writing about the parts of them they aren’t aware of. The weird things they do that don’t make sense to others, but are part of their psyche. One thing I really like is characters who have a part of them that goes against what they appear to be. Will Kane, my latest protagonist, has Aspergers. He’s very, very capable of certain things, like killing. But he’s inept with people. Especially socially. So he has a tendency to take something one person says, file it away, and then say it later on. And sometimes it’s inappropriate in that new situation but he’s giving it his best shot. One people might know is Swearingen in Deadwood. He was written as the series antagonist, but was done so well by Ian McShane as opposed to Bullock’s one dimensional protagonist (anger) that people really liked him so in season two, they became co-protagonists. What made Swearingen intriguing as a really bad guy was the issue of why people were so loyal to him. His top whore, Trikie, the bartenned Doherty, and others. It wasn’t out of fear. It was out of a sort of love.

Jenny:

One of the best ways to show the complexity of a character is through their relationships. The way they feel about other people, treat other people, the way other people regard them. That’s a huge way to develop character. Show what they think, what they say, what they do, but be sure to echo or contrast that with what other people think or say about them, how they interact.

KM asked:

What are concrete strategies for getting more emotion onto the page? I’d say 80% of my edits are always about showing more emotion. Thanks!

Jenny:

Emotion lives in the body. We state that we feel scared or angry, but when we feel it, we feel it physically. So I think the key to writing emotion is writing bodies in a way the reader can connect with. I just read a book where anxiety clawed at the neck of the character. I’ve never felt any emotion claw at my neck; that was just bad writing, but I’ve felt my blood/body grow cold, I’ve felt my stomach clench, I’ve felt my knees go weak with shock. You want to avoid cliches, but you are trying for universal physical reactions to events/emotions, because it’s the reader’s “oh my god I’ve felt like that” that communicates the emotions.

Bob:

Did I miss a ?

Jenny:

It’s up there but here it is again:

KM asked:

What are concrete strategies for getting more emotion onto the page? I’d say 80% of my edits are always about showing more emotion. Thanks!

Bob:

Yep. missed it. Was talking to an alien.

Jenny:

You’re usually not this chatty.

Tell it I said hi.

After instinctive physical reactions that demonstrate emotions, there are coping actions: clenched jaws, faster breathing, shifting bodies away, eyes looking away or narrowing, tears, that kind of thing. They’re not something people do on purpose, they’re what their bodies do to protect themselves or show aggression or ask for help. That is, you may not cry on purpose after someone insults you, but your body may do that anyway and then you fight the tears and your enemy sees it as a weakness and your friends see it as a signal you need help.

Bob:

The key word is SHOWING. Not telling. It’s extremely hard. What do people do? Halle Berry won an Oscar to that moment at the end of Monster’s Ball. The realization that she expresses without any dialogue. How do you show that? I focus a lot on the difference between a novel and a film. Each has its advantages. As a novelist, I don’t have Halle Berry on screen. But I do have words. You can show with a couple of words. I just had Carpenter who usually is very calm, reach out and grab the back of a chair when he learns something that shocks him. I don’t say “He was shocked to learn that”. Well, okay, sometimes I do because show don’t tell is really, really hard.

Jenny:

Unless the emotion is overwhelming, these physical reactions are only briefly on the page although they can continue for character throughout. In other words, if shocking news makes your character’s stomach clench, you don’t have to keep mentioning that, but at the end of the scene she may throw up. What you don’t want to do, as Bob says, is write the emotion at length, you want to show the physical action of the emotion so the reader experiences that.

Show don’t tell.

As Bob said.

Bob:

A big thing I see in mss’s is they beat you to death with emotion. You only have to say something once. Trust that your reader got it the first time. Too many characters are on the very edge of heart attacks in mss’s I’ve seen.

Jenny:

Yep. I’ve seen it in romance novels in the first meet scenes. She thinks he’s awesome, she looks at his jeans and feels a flush, he says something and her head swims, yadda, yadda, she’s having a damn seizure and he doesn’t notice,

Meanwhile the reader, who just knows him as a great pair of jeans and a good-looking face, starts to skim because it’s all yadda yadda to her at the point.

Bob:

Remember– your character can’t be ramped up emotionally all the time.

Jenny:

Yes. Exactly. If she’s that overwhelmed just looking at him, where are you going to go from there? Unless he’s Thor. I could see that with Thor. But otherwise, he’s an attractive guy, get over it and tell your story.

Also being emotionally swept away by somebody’s looks is fairly shallow. Wait until he saves a puppy, then get overwhelmed.

Bob:

Or shoots a cat!

Jenny:

If he shoots a cat, he’s not the hero. (Didn’t we already talk about that?)

Bob:

I watched Captain Marvel the other night. Much, much better than WW84.

Jenny:

Yes, it was.

(Waits for next post.)

Were you going somewhere with that Cpt. Marvel thing or was that just a thought?

Bob:

You mentioned Thor.

Jenny:

Equal time for superheroes. Absolutely.

MJ asked:

How do you balance including diverse characters with the “own voices” movement?

I don’t do protagonists of color because that’s an experience I can’t begin to get right. I try to leave the descriptions of my main characters really loose so people can project their own assumptions including race most of the time, but the default character race if none is stipulated is white, so that doesn’t help much. I think it’s a bad idea to say that only writers of color can only write characters of color–see Ben Aaronovitch and Mhairi McFarlane–but I think it’s a bad idea for me to try. Making supporting characters more diverse is easier, but I’m fairly sure I’m still not getting it right. The problem is that characters of color are more than their color; they’re the product of lives lived in a society that has treated them differently and thus shaped their personalities because of the color of their skin, lived in communities I’ve never been a part of and therefore can’t understand at anything but a superficial level. I don’t know anything about those experiences at a level deep enough to write true characters. I collaborated with Bob because I’m not good at writing men on a deeper level and I wanted to learn more, but I don’t see me calling Shirley Hailstock and saying, “I want to collaborate with you to understand the black experience.” Shirley’s pretty easy-going, but I think she’d draw the line there. You know what I’m good at? Angry white women over thirty.

Bob:

Dangerous question, but I’ll be honest. I write all sorts of characters from all types of background. To say someone must have that background or be of that group to write fiction about such characters is really limiting. I know in YA books go through a certain type of reader, the name escapes me right now, to make sure the story accurately reflects and doesn’t offend, but even that bothers me a little bit. I feel like readers should be the determining factor. My protagonists all have a semblance of my background and ethnicity. I don’t think I could write one who didn’t. I wouldn’t even attempt to write a protag person of color. But i have written female protagonists. So is that violating a rule? I don’t know. Some readers have told me that my depiction of aliens are off, by my experience on the mothership is mine to share.

Jenny:

Do not ask Bob about his experiences on the mother ship.

This is a dangerous question because it’s so easy to get in trouble answering it honestly.

And now that we’re facing danger, it’s time to take a break. We’ll be back with more answers on Monday.

Thanks for asking! (If you have more questions, please put them in the comments.)

HWSWAnswers: Ideas and Writing

You all were good enough to ask a lot of questions, and we answered them in Slack, and then I tried to group the answers together so they were at least somewhat related. The plan is to put the answer posts up here tonight, tomorrow (Saturday) and Monday. If there are any more questions, put them in the comments on any of the answer posts and we’ll hit Slack again on Tuesday. This first bunch is all writing questions.

DeniseTwin asked:

I read on Reddit a sub where it has writing prompts – I love some of them, they are such clever ideas! So how do you decide what is a great book idea, one that will last all the way to a finished story and what is destined to be nothing but a series of fun rabbit warrens? Do you jot down the rabbit ideas just to get them out of your head so you can focus on the “real” stories or ???

Bob:

There are ideas that I don’t see a story to. What I mean is that there are neat ideas that I don’t think I could develop into a story. But, heck, Breaking Bad did an entire episode about a fly getting into the meth lab. So. Once I get started, I go until I get to the end. Often, that end is not what I envisioned at the start, but that’s the fun part.

Jenny:

For me, it’s not the idea, it’s the character talking in my head. Ideas are easy but ephemeral; characters are solid and layered. The greatest idea in the world is nothing without a character you love to explore it.

Seren asked:

My question is how do make the move from Amazing Idea to Actual Story? Have you ever just stopped at the idea stage and known that there wasn’t much further to go with it? Or is it a good idea to pursue fleshing it out?

Bob:

Every time I start a new novel, it’s a bit overwhelming because I know how much work it’s going to be to get to the end. So before I start, I’m committed to the idea. Right now, for example, I’m playing with ides for a next Area 51 book. A lot of people thought the last one, Earth Abides, was the last, but there are loose end I can pursue to write Area 51: Genesis. Or, I can write a distant prequel telling the story of the First Earth Empire I introduce in Earth Abides and whose remnants are in the meteor belt. As I work on my current projects, those ideas float around in my head. Then, one day, something will click. It’s not scientific; it’s more going with what feels right.

Jenny:

I never have amazing ideas. I have characters who won’t shut up, and they tell me what the problem is, and we take it from there. Ideas on their own are just character generators, otherwise you end up with characters who are servicing an idea instead of living on the page.

Bob:

I’ve had story ideas I’ve written. Now I write character ideas. I think they’re better.

Jenny:

The thing about ideas is that they’ll generate a different story depending on who the protagonist is. So they may be a great starting point, but they won’t come alive until there’s a character invested in them.

LN asked:

A question that has probably been asked already many times to both of you: how did you actually start writing and kept going to the point where you had a complete publishable book? When I say how I mean in a very practical way.

Bob:

For Don’t Look Down, there was a burning bush on the side of the road and a voice called out. Actually, I think the Maui story has been told. But when did we know we were finished? I thought after the first draft we were done. That took seven months in emails back and forth. Jenny said, nope, we’re just starting. So, yeah. Rewriting. I’m not sure how long we spent on that, Plus, the editor, found a major problem in what we thought was a good draft which required more rewriting and introducing Pepper into the story. Plus Jenny cut my character killing the cat.

Jenny:

I did not cut anything of yours. I said, “Bob, killing the cat is upsetting people on the blog. Possibly you could not do that.” And you killed a wild hog instead, as I remember.

The first book I started writing was so awful I stopped (I finished it later and it became Sizzle). I started a second book and just kept going until the end because I was having so much fun with it. It was 160,000 words. I knew nothing. A good editor got hold of me and said, “Let’s get serious about this,” and I started studying craft, and once I had a grip on structure, the whole finishing thing became clearer. But with Manhunting, I was just having aa good time first writing the story (because the heroine was my kind of woman and it was fun doing all the stuff she did vicariously) and then crafting the story (because I am a writing craft wonk and learning and using that stuff is catnip for me).

Bob:

Cat would’ve been better. You also cut out the part about the aliens.

Jenny:

As I recall, Bob, you started your first novel in Korea? You told me this story and I remember the details, but I’m not sure how much you want to share. What was your first published novel? Mine was Manhunting. 1993. Two years after I said, “I’m gonna write a book,” and sat down to type.

There were aliens in Don’t Look Down? There were no aliens in Don’t Look Down.

Bob:

Because you cut them.

Jenny:

I remember you bitching about me cutting a Swedish sex therapist, and even while we writing the book, I couldn’t remember a Swedish sex therapist.

There were no aliens ever in Don’t Look Down. Just that whack job in the swamp. You loved him.

Bob:

My first published book was Eyes of the Hammer. But it wasn’t my first manuscript. I view a first manuscript as a thesis. You’re learning. Eyes of the Hammer (incredibly stupid title which neither my agent or editor told me to fix) came out in 1991. I wrote my first manuscript living in Korea, studying martial arts, doing some active duty stints around the Pacific Rim (fighting kaiju). As soon as I finished it, I started writing my second. I was on my third mss when I got my first book deal.

Jenny:

I agree, the first one has the greatest learning curve. My curve on Manhunting was huge. (I also hate my first title. Sigh.)

Nicole wrote:

How do you know when it’s time to end a series?

Bob:

Tough one. I’ve written lots of series. I thought Area 51 was done. Then I re-read it and realized there were lots of threads I could pick up and I did.

I think when you don’t have the passion for it any more. I left Area 51 alone for almost 15 years, but then, upon re-reading, realized there was something more I wanted to unravel.

In my Green Beret series I did six Dave Riley books, then moved on to Horace Chase. But he was so flawed, I knew he couldn’t last. So, spoiler alert, he dies at the end of his third book and Riley is in the background. I remember Walter Moseley two years ago at Thrillerfest being asked why his protagonist drove his car off the cliff and he said “Because that’s what he would do.”

After killing Chase, I invented Will Kane and took the Green Beret series back well before the first book to 1977 because I thought Kane was a great character and that time period unique in New York City. I got tired of books and shows that relied on cell phones and googling stuff. So I’m now working on the fifth book in that series and really enjoying it because it has an entire cast of characters I like, not just Kane. There’s Morticia, the waitress, Thao the Montagnard cook studying to be a doctor who saved Kane’s life in Vietnam. Strong the cop with a secret I still haven’t revealed in four books and won’t until it needs to, etcetera.

I’m well into Shane and the Red Wedding and it follows the HEA in Agnes and the Hitman. Is it really an HEA? I’m pretty far in and not sure. Agnes is off stage, at a cooking school in Paris, while Shane is at Two Rivers trying to put on a wedding that’s turning into a bloody mess. But the undercurrent I’m trying to sort out, which just occurred to me as I wrote this is: what price is love worth? Not quite “if you love someone let them go” but more if you love some, how much danger can you put them in?

Jenny:

Also, having made sure they understand the danger, can you step back and let them make the decision themselves? Avoid the “Can he protect her?” trap.

Bob:

Well the point kind of is not whether he can protect her. It’s more he’s just a walking blob of danger wherever he is.

Jenny:

I doubt I’ll ever have the focus to do a series, but I like the idea of connected books. I think the key is that no book is just part of a series, it always has to stand alone, it has to be a book you needed to write, and not just because you started with three brothers and now you’re stuck writing a book for each of them. So if you’re writing about a central character you like, and they have a series of interesting adventures that build a character arc, you’re done when the character arc is done.

Whatever it is that you build the series on, it has to arc. Take Discworld. The Watch series arcs the character of everyone in it: Vimes moves from being a drunk hasbeen in a gutter to a Duke who goes toe-to-toe with the Patrician. Carrot moves from being an innocent to the quiet power behind the Watch and throne-he-won’t-take. Or look at Susan Sto-Helit who moves from being a granddaughter-of-Death-rock-groupie to a powerful adult capable of saving the world while falling in love with Time. It’s not “here’s another story about Susan,” it’s “here’s another story about Susan, watch how she fights back and grows into the amazing woman she is at the end.” I know a lot of series are just one story after another, but I think when you look at the best of them, there’s growth in relationships and maturity, and that growth, punctuated in a series ender that’s planned as an ender, makes the series satisfying and not repetitive. Dorothy Sayers arced Whimsey to stability. Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin stories are a good example: Archie starts out as playboy-cad and ends in a solid relationship with a woman as strong as he is; the relationships among the team end explosively but Stout finishes that arc, too. That series ended when Stout was in his late eighties and decided to quit writing, but he didn’t just stop, he completed the arc. And then, of course, there’s Murderbot. Huge arc there, and Wells better keep writing it because I want to see where Murderbot goes next and how it arcs next.

Back to Bob’s sequel for Agnes: But she KNOWS he’s a walking blob of danger, she knew he was a hitman when she invited him into her life. If there’s a clear and present danger, she needs a head’s up, but at this point, if he’s saying, “You know, being with me is dangerous,” she’s going to come back with, “Duh.”

Margo asked:

I’d like to know how writers are dealing with the fact that we’re in the middle of a pandemic (and all that entails) in a “current year” story. Do we ignore it? Include the details (do I want my protagonist and other characters wearing masks and keeping six feet apart, not going into restaurants or being able to travel? Where’s the fun in that?!?!?) I’m curious to know how other authors are dealing with this. Do we just move the story back to 2019 (instead of 2020 or 2021) or pretend none of this is real (I suppose it IS fiction, after all)? Any suggestions or advice?

Bob:

I don’t let current events affect story. Early on, with thrillers, I learned this. I’d ignore it because it will be dated (hopefully) by the time the book comes out. I also don’t date stories. Well, except for my Time Patrol stories, where each one takes place on the same date in six different years, but that’s all historical.

Jenny:

The choice of whether or not to deal with the pandemic depends on the story. If the extra pressure makes the story stronger, I’d put it in the pandemic. However, since Trump was elected, I’ve stipulated that my stories start at an earlier date because he poisoned the air for everything, seeped into everything, and I don’t want him in my stories. If you set a book in 2020, you’re going to have to deal masks and lockdowns; it’s like setting it during the Civil War. It doesn’t have to be about the war or the pandemic, but people are gonna mention it and it’s going to have a huge effect on every day life. If you decide to write a book about 2019 in which people aren’t dealing with Covid, you’re writing alternate history/fantasy.

Bob:

I’ve got a book, Dragon Sim-13, that takes place during the Tienanmen Square riot, which kind of dates it. My Will Kane stories start in 1977 and for the first two, Son of Sam is in the backdrop. Of course, I lived through that and a girl from my elementary school was shot. And I knew I wanted the climactic scene to be 13 July 1977, the night of the big blackout. I thought the Blackout would be big for the scene, but it turned out not to be.

In summation– unless there’s a reason for, no need to date your story.

Jenny:

I don’t think you have to drag in current events, as Bob said, unless the current event had a huge impact that your characters would be idiots to ignore. Maybe if you write a book that doesn’t deal with Covid in any way, people will just assume it was set earlier? I just put “This story happened in 2015” at the beginning, and then go on, ignoring current events,

This is a Good Book Thursday, January 7, 2020

I re-read a lot this week although I did start a new-to-me series, Novik’s Temeraire stories. The first story is a little military-ish for me but she’s such a lovely writer that I’m sticking with it. I also read the NYT, WaPo and 538 obsessively last night while the Capitol caught fire, metaphorically. Thirteen more days. I’ll just bury myself in a good book.

What did you read this week?

We Pause This Blog To Watch Our Government Blow Up and Reassemble Itself.

It’s like a movie. This was always going to happen. Twitter has even suspended Trump. When Twitter says, “You’re inciting insurrection,” you’ve screwed up.

It’s going to be okay. I know I keep saying that, but in a way, this is one of the best things that could happen. Want to see how differently police treat BLM protesters from MAGA protesters? Want to see which side is the most violent and deranged? Want to see how bad it gets before even Ted Cruz starts backtracking? Yep, we’re there.

Just a note: None of these idiots wore masks or social distanced during the worst part of the pandemic. Karma is relentless these days,

feel free to discuss below, maintaining respect for your fellow commenters, please. You always do, that’s just managerial stuff,

Working Wednesday, January 6, 2021

I’ve been throwing things out with abandon, or at least with verve. Making big plans for the house. Watching the Georgia nail-biter elections. Reading to escape politics. Figuring out how to answer questions with Bob. The usual. It’s okay, Steve Kornacki worked hard enough for both of us last night.

What did you do this week?

Got a Question?

So Bob and I took December off from HWSWA. I was reading and sleeping all month and he was trying to convince his wife they should buy an abandoned mine with heavy equipment in the Arizona desert. Now it’s 2021 and we’re regrouping: I’m still in bed but I’m working (a lot of writers work in bed, do not judge me) and he’s given up on the mine and is heading into the hills with one of his dogs to do whatever it is he does in the hills. Mountains. Whatever. We touched base briefly, trying to figure out if we wanted to do anything online this year. He’s halfway through one book, needing to start another in his ongoing series, and I am still in bed reading, so it would have to be something easy. Like answering questions. As in you all ask a question and we go to Slack and argue about it. Like Questionables only two people answering.

(He never told me what kind of mine (I asked) but it was in Mayer, Arizona, so it did seem sort of fated. Those of you who’ve been on Argh for a long time man remember when, fed up with the male half of the population, Lani, Krissie, and I decided to buy an abandoned nuclear missile site in the Pacific Northwest and move there; Lani said we would call it Clitoris because that way, no man would ever find it. Good times.)

So do you have a burning question you desperately need an answer to? Or, you know, just something you’ve wondered about? Anything you want two answers to, really. Put it in the comments below. Please remember that half of the team answering this question suggested I eat my left arm to survive a snowstorm in New Jersey.

Small Insane Rant

I know we’ve talked about this before but . . .

WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH PEOPLE WRITING BOOKS WITHOUT ENDINGS?

I just skimmed one–tried to read it but it was slow–and skipped to the end where the heroine and her best friend are kidnapped and the heroine escapes but the best friend is still missing and the end is the hero and his best friend heading out to find the missing best friend because of course you have to buy the next book to find out . . .

Yeah, I’m never buying this author again. A story moves from stability to stability to create a unified and satisfying whole. I don’t give a damn what genre, what worldview, what politics, what anything, you finish the damn story or your reader isn’t satisfied. Thank god I didn’t care about anybody in this story or I’d have been really angry. The fact that this one alone didn’t finish wouldn’t be enough to spur this rant, but this is a damn TREND? Somebody said “Here’s how to maximize your sales while losing readers?” and people said, “Yeah, that’s a good idea?” Is this happening in other genres or is just in New Age Romance?

This is worse than smirking, worse than head-hopping, much worse than prologues and epilogues. This is story abuse. Respect the craft people, and respect your readers who are not your cash cows.

Rant over, anger continues.

Happiness is a Brand New Sheet of Paper

The final “Calvin and Hobbes” strip, by Bill Watterson, published 25 years ago this week — departing in peak form. (Bill Watterson/Andrews McMeel Syndication) from the Washington Post

It’s a year full of possibilities, Argh People.

How did you explore happiness this week?

Andrea at Shelf Love Encourages Me to Babble

So the wonderful Andrea Martucci has an equally wonderful podcast called Shelf Love, which you are all probably already aware of. One of first podcasts was on Bet Me, and during that one she asked a question and, when I found the podcast a year later, I e-mailed her and answered it. And she asked me to do a podcast and I said sure. And it’s up today.. Andrea asks great questions, and it was so much fun talking to her that I babbled for what seemed like days (very easy to talk to, Andrea is) and the podcast ended up an hour and a half, so bring snacks if you decide to listen.

And thank you very much, Andrea, I had a wonderful time.