Ellis Vidler's Blog, page 29

Author Donis Casey, March 1

Please come back in the morning and say hello to Donis. She has an interesting post, and she's giving away a copy of her great new book , Crying Blood,.
Ellis

A Blessing or A Curse?

We're all in this togetherAh, yes, social networking. Is it a huge time-suck or a pleasant diversion? For me it can be both. Like many writers, I started participating to get my name out there and have an Internet outlet for some promotional material. And it was a chore. Some of the forms still are for me. Twitter and I will never be compatible. But I love Facebook. (Word to the wise: Internet privacy is a myth—if you don't want it made public, don't put it out there. Chances are sites like Spokeo or Pipl have already published much more information about you than Facebook anyway.)Another note on gerundsOne reason people object to gerunds may be the time factor, which is often missed in writing. The action in the main clause must be happening at the same time as the action in the introductory gerund phrase. (While the subject was) is sort of lurking in the wings. It's understood. ( While she was ) Running through the woods, she found a body. The gerund phrase can't logically be completed before the action in the main clause begins.  Crossing the room, he unlocked the door won't work. If you add the (while he was), it's easy to see why it doesn't.

What's so bad about gerunds?

I know gerunds are frowned upon, but I've never understood why. They're useful. They change the rhythm and add variety instead of having all the sentences sound the same. Turning the corner, she spotted the dog. "As" isn't warmly received either, which is another way you could write it: As she turned the corner, she spotted the dog. Reversing it is awkward: She spotted the dog when she turned the corner . Then there's She turned the corner and spotted the dog. That's fine, but how many of those sentences in a row do you want to read? If you avoid them, why do you do it? Photo by Mike Baird http://bairdphotos.comI've heard gerunds are considered weaker, but that's not much of an explanation. My theory is that gerunds are a bit scary and people are unsure about their use. It's those dangling participles: Running down the street, the rock tripped her. No, the rock wasn't running down the street. The gerund phrase must modify the subject of the main clause. Running down the street, she tripped over a rock. Not great writing, but it's correct. She was running; the rock was stationary, at least until she tripped over it. Or maybe it's the possessives sometimes needed with gerunds. But that's another blog for another day.Using --ing in progressive verbs is a different matter. In those cases, it depends on the context. He was crossing the street when the car hit him. The sentence has a different meaning if you say He crossed the street when the car hit him. A gerund is a participle used as a noun. It can be the subject of a verb: Crying over spilled milk won't put it back in the glass. Or Jogging is hard on the knees.  A participle is when the verb form is used as a modifier: The burning house lit up the night sky.  Or it can be progressive, a part of a verb phrase: The thief is running from the police. I like gerunds and will continue using them until I find a good reason to stop. Do you have one? I'd really, really like to know what it is.

Write Tight

Ernest Hemingway (public domain)This is a story I've read and heard about for years (you probably have too), but not even Snopes can really confirm it. It doesn't matter; it's still a great story. In a discussion about brevity, someone bet Ernest Hemingway he couldn't write a story in six words. He took the bet. This is the story attributed to him. For sale, baby shoes, never used.Can six words bring you to tears? They can me. At least these six words can. This story has images, pathos, tragedy, and despair. It shows, it doesn't tell. It's a magnificent story. Hemingway is also supposed to have said it was his best work. I might argue with that, but it's certainly a powerful work. Based on Hemingway's words, someone put together a little book about life in six words. (I really need to find the name and get a copy.) One that stuck was "I still make coffee for two," by Zak Nelson. Another poignant tale. Okay, got off my duff and looked for it. Here's a link to the site. http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords/ It's all there, making this blog completely superfluous (maybe not entirely—how often do I get to use that word?).Have any you'd like to share? I'm thinking but to no avail.

In the beginning . . .

We all know the opening line is the most important sentence of the book, followed by the first paragraph. It must hook the reader, make him want to know more. It has to be relevant to the story, not just an intriguing opening. The opening ought to show a change, usually unwelcome, in the current situation. The hook also tells the reader the kind of story to expect and shows the style and pace of the book. If your style is terse and fast-moving, the hook should reflect it. If you have a soft, poetic style, then the hook should show it.How do you feel about first lines? What do you look for? What do you think about these? 1.   Call me Ishmael. 2.  Scarlet O'hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were. 3.  Nathan Rubin died because he got brave.What are some of your favorites?For me, the best opening lines show something that implies conflict or a problem. They're lean and uncluttered. It's too tempting to cram a whole setup into that first line—I've read many where the writer succumbed. I have too, but I try to go back and include only what (I hope) will intrigue the reader, only what will compel her to read on. I admit to a prejudice against opening with dialogue. It seems to float out there like a helium balloon. Who said it? Why should I care? I really want to know who's speaking and have some hint of mood or situation. But if the beginning is dialogue, it needs to go somewhere fast. Cut any meaningless stuff like "How are you?" or "What did you do today?" How about "I have AIDS." It certainly indicates a problem, but I wouldn't stop there, because alone that could be anything from an inspirational memoir, a love story, or the opening of a murder mystery. Instead, maybe, "I have AIDS—the question is, where did I get it?" Nigel's breath came in short, hard gasps as he waited for his wife's answer. Skip the opening stuff that tells the reader Nigel got home later than usual, and Selena, his beautiful wife of four years, met him at the door. I'd start with Nigel and his breathing. Nigel's breath came in short, hard gasps. "I have AIDS . . ." He waited for his wife's answer. Those opening lines are from1.       Moby Dick, Herman Melville2.      Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell3.      Die Trying, Lee Child

Where in the World?

Setting, or milieu (don't you love that word?), is the environment or physical time and place in which a story takes place. Exotic locales start me dreaming—my imagination goes into overdrive. I spent a few months in Mexico and always wanted to set a story there. Pat Conroy's novels have a powerful sense of place. Appalachia is almost another character in Vicki Lane's books, and Daniel Woodrell's Winter's Bone could only have happened in that isolated mountain area.
Setting provides a backdrop and color. Streets, buildings, restaurants, or some wild, rugged terrain—it all depends on your story and what you want to happen. Most people write what they know or have a good chance of finding out. I wouldn't set a book in Alaska because I doubt if I could get enough of a feeling for it from books (even Dana Stabenow's rich and beautiful novels) and movies or the Internet but I could set one in Atlanta or most towns in the South even though I may not have been there. These days, if you chose a place you're not familiar with, you can easily find pictures and information about restaurants, streets, businesses, and places of interest, but if you can find someone who's spent time there, maybe they'll help. I've found many people willing to share their impressions. They may be able to add some details you wouldn't otherwise find, such as smells, sounds, whether it's windy or the air is visibly polluted. How does it influence you? Do you have a sudden hunger to read something with a particular setting? Or does finding some special place set off bells in your head? 

A Cast of Thousands


Keystone Cops  Even in a big drama with a large cast, readers need to know who they're dealing with. They have to know someone to care about the person.

Just as too many cooks spoil the broth, too many characters spoil the story. If you have many minor characters, consider combining a few.
 Viola Davis in Traveler Realistically, you may not get stopped for speeding by the same cop who comes to your door to serve a warrant and then is the first officer on the murder scene, but in a story, if the cop is always Officer Davis, readers will get to know her and not lose the story trying to keep track of Shultz, Winchell, and Chan. If

I've given up on books because there are too many characters, and I can't remember who's who. If I have to look back to see who someone is, I'm out of the story and lose the mood of the scene. The more this happens, the harder it is to get back into it.  What do you think? Have you ever put a book aside because of the huge cast?
 
the character will make several appearances, show something of her as a person. Maybe Officer Davis could be interrupted by a phone call from her child's teacher. (But in my WIP, her name is Charlie Bone. What a great face!) Then, if something happens involving the officer, readers will have a connection and be more likely to care.

Pleased to meet you, ma'am.

When a character first makes an appearance in a story, the writer really ought to call upon good manners and introduce the character to the reader. It's awkward when a stranger appears in a small gathering and, while everyone else seems to know her and interact easily, I'm distracted from the action, trying to figure out who she is.
If she's going to be around a lot, I'd like a memorable introduction, something that makes her stand out so I'll recognize her when we meet again. If she's a minor player, it helps if the meeting is in keeping with her role in the story, either by putting her in a setting where her role is obvious or by explaining. For example, in a scene with a man in a restaurant, you might have the new character come in with a tray of coffee. Readers will understand that she's some kind of server. However, if she's not, her role or relationship should be explained so the reader won't be jarred later when the impression is corrected. Elwood continued to read as his niece  Leona came in with a cup of tea. Otherwise, if, in the middle of a scene, Leona comes in and spills tea or starts talking, the reader will be thumbing back through the pages trying to figure out who Leona is. It's jarring.
What do you think? Does it bother you when someone walks in and you have no idea who he or she is or why they're there? Do you have any memorable examples?

Incidental Characters and Walk-Ons

Incidental characters are like walk-ons in a play—they enter, perform some brief action, and then exit. Walk-ons aren't in the story long enough to develop character or, in many cases, to have names.  But the reader must be able to distinguish one from another, so the writer often gives them physical characteristics or mannerisms that can be described in a few words for a quick reference.
For example, the hero might be stuck in a grocery store line behind a bubbly girl who's chatting with the cashier, a tall, thin fellow. After the reader has "seen" them, if the hero is talking or thinking about them, he might begin referring to them as Bubbles and Stretch. This gives the reader a much better picture than repeating the girl and the boy. It also helps the reader identify them, especially when the walk-ons are the same sex: the first girl with a phone, the second girl with a yellow bag, the girl at the cash register, the girl in the line. 
Give these characters some feature that can be described simply: one might have impossibly red hair (the red queen), another might wear a hat (blue hat) or have brown eyes. An lumpy-looking, deeply tanned character might remind the point-of-view character of a twice-baked potato and become "the potato" in future references.
Limit these names to characters who are involved in enough action that they need to be distinguishable and whose names would not naturally be given. Too much of a good thing isn't always wonderful.
If this sounds like a lecture, it's because it is. :) It's from one of my classes. I love to hear what you think. Any ideas or suggestions? Examples, good or bad?

Resolution: Nap More?

The Answer--NappingNew Year's Day, and what are my resolutions? Only one I'll seriously work at. That's to organize my time better so I can write regularly. It seems to me that having a consistent time every day trains your brain. After a few days, things start to flow more easily at that hour. Since I'm a morning person, I'll wake up thinking about the book. If I can write for an hour or so every day before work, I can probably keep it going and get a little more done at lunch. Not much in one day, I know, but it adds up. And then there are weekends. Maybe a little time out for this blog and Facebook, but once I'm into a story, the words come more easily. It sort of runs through my head in the background, like a softly playing radio.
Young Winston 



When I write, I see the scenes like a movie. Directing's kind of fun. If it's not working, I can have the characters do it again another way.

What I really want is to get more out of each day, but how? Winston Churchill, whom I admire tremendously, took a short nap every day and found it refreshed him so much he could accomplish almost two days work in one. That's an idea worth trying. But when to work in the nap? I have a friend who naps for thirty minutes after supper, and then he's good for another four or five hours. I'd have to set a mighty alarm to wake up that soon, but maybe I'll try it. On a Friday, so if it doesn't work as I hope, I'd have a day to recover. That's my only idea. Have any to share?
My friend Maryn Sinclair is a nighthawk. She's sharp and thoughtful late in the day and likes working into the wee hours. (Must be a good plan—her sizzling new book is coming out from Loose Id this spring.) I don't think she naps at all.
After dark I'm more like a denizen of Helm's Deep. Of course, Aragorn could probably wake me up.
How do you do it? Any magic formulas?