Larry Brooks's Blog, page 49
July 24, 2011
Five More Mistakes That Will Expose You As a Rookie
Last week we looked at five common mistakes made by writers at all levels, but perhaps most commonly by newer writers.
The terms "newer" and "rookie" make me nervous, because they may be interpreted as "less than." Not my intention, because it's not true: experience doesn't always equate to quality or knowledge, and very often a new writer comes out of the chute to blow the rest of us crusty old vets off the page.
My hypothisis: a newer writer who embraces the principles of craft will quickly fly past the still-trying-after-all-these-years writer who won't.
Rookie mistakes, in the intended helpful context used here, refer to traps that are easy to fall into. One can remain stuck in these traps – sometimes for decades – until someone (like, a crusty old vet) points them out. It's like dieting and salad dressing… rookie dieters sabotage their goals within otherwise salad-intensive best intentions, and experienced yo-yo dieters know better.
Not all diets are created equal, and any diet that works relies on the exact same principles of nutrition and human biochemistry, no matter what or how they suggest you eat.
Best analogy I have for you today. But I bet you've been there.
1. Multiple dialogue paragraphs.
This rule is inviolate: when you change speakers, you change paragraphs. Every time. No exceptions.
This is wrong:
"Great concert," offered George, who was driving because the others had drank too much. From the backseat Gretchen chimed in, "Yeah, if you like nostalgia groups in which only the drummer actually played in the band." To which George replied, "Now playing at a casino near you."
This is right:
"Great concert," offered George, who was driving because the others had drank too much.
From the backseat Gretchen chimed in, "Yeah, if you like nostalgia groups in which only the drummer actually played in the band."
To which George replied, "Now playing at a casino near you."
2. Your first writing teacher is dead. Or at least obsolete.
Maybe. At least, if they told you any of these things:
- Never write a story in first person.
- Describe the hell out of places, people and things.
- Never tell a story from multiple points of view.
- Adjectives are evil.
- Grammar is holy.
- Exposition should never be conveyed via dialogue.
- Character trumps plot.
- All good stories will find a publisher.
- All published stories are good.
All of these things are wrong. All of these things can lead to your exposure as a rookie relying on out-dated, and now dangerous advice.
3. The two legit choices of manuscript font.
There is one standard typeface for professional submissions: Courier, and lately, Courier New. All in 12-point.
Because of the advent of word processing, writers now have choices in this regard. Most of them are wrong. Times New Roman is acceptable in traditional publishing, but anything other than these two fonts will label you as… new.
Some fonts, like Georgia, Garamond or Palatino, are close enough in today's liberal environment to sneak by. Others, like Arial, Veranda, or God-forbid, something sexy like Broadway or Papyrus (great for chapter titles, though) or something else that looks like copy from a Hooters ad, will get you thrown out of the game.
Using bold or italics as your default narrative fonts: never. You'll not only get rejected, you might get assaulted.
Of course, you may not be intending to submit your work to a traditional publisher, large or small. In that case, all the font rules go out the window. Which is why self-publishing in digital is still a wild, untamed frontier, and is quickly, explosively, becoming a depository for the manuscripts that New York is sending back in a S.A.S.E.
Sometimes for the very reasons you see here.
The bottom line is this: success in the ebook world should have, and will have, the same standards of professionalism that traditional publishing clings to, and with good reason.
Which means, rookies will stand out as rookies in any venue. Writer beware.
4. The name game.
There are two common mistakes that rookies make when bestowing names upon their characters.
First, they use names that sound too much alike. That alliterate like names of twins. Bob and Bill. Mary and Carrie. Andy and Amy.
Instead of naming two characters Stella and Bella, name them Stella and Gretchen. Instead of Robert and Rupert, name them Robert and George. Try to avoid using the same first letter across your entire roster of names, and try to avoid using names of major characters with the same number letters, or close, like Larry, Barry, Harry, Carrie, Willy, Milly, Sherrie, Terry and Cher.
Obvious, perhaps, but you'd be surprised how often it happens. Anything you do that makes the reading experience confusing or frustrating will always work against you.
This problem extends to the other common mistake in this name game, usually in science fiction, fantasy or even historical genres: your names are gobbledygook, unpronounceable, unfamiliar and difficult to remember from one page to the next.
Notice that J.K. Rowling used made-up names that still held some semblance of a connection to the human experience: Dumbledor, Bellatrix, Sirus… just a twist of the tongue away from familiar. Notice, too, that the main characters are named Harry, Ron and Hermaine, rather than something like Dysteronius, Anaconsiskboomhah and Xphenetieria, or the like.
You know who you are.
Don't do it. Rookie mistake.
Go HERE to see a list of Harry Potter characters, by the way, and see how brilliantly Rowling navigates this issue.
5. Don't belabor the backstory.
Backstory is wonderful. Backstory is critical. Backstory is tricky.
Just as true: backstory is art. The degree to which an author weaves in necessary backstory that creates context, sub-text and even sub-plot is the degree to which the entire tale is rendered artful. It can take years to get it, years more to give it properly.
The best advice – after you have a complete command of what backstory even is, and how it is used to make a story compelling – is to look for how the authors you love handle it. To notice how it pops up when and as necessary, and how (usually) less is more, and relevance trumps excess.
Notice, too, that exceptions to any of these rules that are otherwise successful are almost never written by new authors. Never imitate a mistake or bad execution, even when it has a famous name on the cover. They got away with it… you won't.
The empowering golden goose here is to know your story as you write it, which means either a solid story planning and vision process before your first draft, or a series of drafts that incorporate the solidification of the story as you go.
The study of craft can keep these demons at bay.
Some writers desire to make their own way, discovering craft as their writing career moves forward, sometimes in the mistaken belief that they are inventing it for themselves. (Note to such resistant writers: it must be a coincidence, then, that virtually all commercially successful novels and even movies adhere to and demonstrate the same execution of a set of core principles, which those authors did not make up for themselves.)
All of these things, including the five rookie mistakes offered in the earlier post, are available out there, in many forms that end up saying the same things, as standards and benchmarks that apply to all stories, all writers and all story development approaches.
Life is short. Craft is out there waiting to help you, not tie you down or limit your experience. Ask any writer who has successfully evolved from rookie to proven professional, they'll agree that craft is king, and that the king is not dead.
How do I know so much about rookie mistakes? Two answers:
One, been there, done that.
Two, I read unpublished manuscripts as part of my work as a story coach. If you're interested in having your novel or screenplay critiqued and coached, contact me, let's see if we can get your story working up to its highest potential.
For more craft, please consider my book: "Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Competencies of Successful Writing," published by Writers Digest Books.
If you'd like to see if I walk the walk, please consider my newly re-published novels (issued as paperback originals from Penguin Putnam): Darkness Bound (my USA Today bestseller)… The Seminar (originally published as Pressure Points)… Bait and Switch… and (from Sons of Liberty Publishing), Whisper of the Seventh Thunder.
All of the links above take you to the respective Kindle pages. But all are available via Smashwords and Nook, as well.
Five More Mistakes That Will Expose You As a Rookie is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 21, 2011
The Ins and Outs of a Sexy Book Cover
No pun intended. Promise.
If you've been following along, you know I've been busy re-publishing my previously released novels from Penguin-Putnam (via Onyx and Signet paperback imprints). as ebooks. They tossed the rights under the bus with me, and I'm happily taking them forward into the brave new world of digital publishing to see what happens.
I didn't have Storyfix then. Or "Story Engineering." I do now. I have friends in digital places.
And, I'm changing the cover of the most commercially successful of those books — Darkness Bound, my USA Today bestseller.
The original cover of the paperback published in 2000 was hot. Kinky. A model with her hands tied together with a scarf, and a veiled pose that said she was liking it.
I had nothing to do with that. Zero input.
That said, it worked. It was somewhat reflective of the content, and it was totally a strategic choice. Thankfully the reviews were solid, so the book took off out of the chute, due in no small part to a pretty procative radio campaign. Here's what that cover looked like back then (you can still get it, used, via Amazon):
So why not keep it? Why not use it again for the ebook?
Because it says the wrong thing.
Entirely because of the cover, the major bookclubs (Literary Guild, Doubleday and BOTM, all of which selected it) categorized "Darkiness Bound" as erotica (which, by the way, I'm not dissing here, it's just that DB isn't erotica). This is like showing up at a bar wearing a leather dress and immediately being arrested as a hooker.
Friends and family struggled with that cover. Readers looked down judgmental noses at signings. One independent bookstore owner in Tucson practically threw me out of her store when I dropped in to sign the stock. Pariah. Perv. Pornographer.
All because of the cover. But… here's what Publishers Weekly said about the cover in it's review:
Teasingly erotic, Brooks's first novel is that rarest of sexual thrillers, in which the sex isn't gratuitous but a convincing means to an end. Unfortunately, the book's erotic cover may cause horror/thriller fans to overlook this title on the bookshelf.
Cut to ten years later. To that whole new ballgame.
When I decided to re-publish it as an ebook, I wanted sexy — the book is dark and sexy — but I also wanted something my sister wouldn't be embarrassed to recommend to her friends. Because, while hot and steamy and darkly romantic, it's not erotica… it's just wildly erotic in a subconsious fantasy sort of way — the most erotic realm there is, if you ask me — rather than in a sweaty nude people sort of way. Big diff.
So I bought a stock cover design for ten bucks. True story (is this the Big Time, or what?). Had the designer slap on a title and my name. But it wasn't saying it, and I wasn't feeling it. Too gothic (candles and medieval typeface) and therefore misleading.
It needed more… juice. It needed mystery, a delicious promise, a sense of forbidden compulson and taboo fantasy.
Just like the novel.
So here's the new cover, already in place on all the venues. I found the image on Flickr, hired Colin Dunbar to make it sizzle… and here's the outcome:
That's more like it.
Don't take your ebook cover lightly. It's the centerpiece of your marketing, and it's your best shot at convincing a reader to opt-in. That and some good reviews and word-of-mouth… who knows what might happen.
Just republished my novel "Pressure Points" today — changed the title of that one to: "The Seminar." A mind-bending psychological thrller that takes the self-help industry and twists it in sinister directions. If you've ever been to one of those workshops, you'll relate. Here's the cover for it:
Also ten bucks, by the way. (Not the book, which is $2.99… the cover art. Amazing.)
All my re-published novels are now available as downloadable ebooks at Kindle, Smashwords, Nook and (soon) the Apple Bookstore.
The Ins and Outs of a Sexy Book Cover is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 19, 2011
5 Creative Flaws That Will Expose Your Lack of Storytelling Experience
There are a million ways to cripple a story. Here are five of them.
There's absolutely nothing wrong with being inexperienced (we've all been there). Unless it shows up in your story in a way that detracts from it.
Or kills it.
Pop quiz: which is the more unforgiving audience: agents, editors, or readers?
Used to be that the only answers that mattered were the first two, because you'd never get your work in front of the latter if your story was guilty of and of these five deal killers. They were grounds for rejection.
Nowadays, though, you can skip the grouchy agents and rejection-happy acquisitions editors and go digitally direct to the marketplace. And if for a moment you think that this brave new world lowers the craft bar, that digital readers won't care about the small stuff in the same way that agents and editors do, think again.
This is actually good news.
Because when you finally conquer these five demons, you'll stand out as a professional storyteller worthy of publication – even if you're self-publishing – amidst a sea of competition that, quite frankly, isn't.Without word-of-mouth buzz, your digital story is going nowhere beyond your circle of loyal family and friends. And with these five flaws crippling your pages, a wider readership isn't likely.
Not just because of the technical impropriety of it. But because the writer who doesn't recognize the folly of these things isn't likely to spin a story that competes with those of writers who do.
Here they are, in no particular order of toxicity.
1. Proper Names Within Dialogue
Which equates to bad dialogue.
Listen closely to conversations in your life. Count the number of times somebody uses your name in those audible exchanges. Better yet, how often you use the name of the person you are talking to, either face to face or on the phone.
It'll be a low number. It is likely to be zero.
And yet, some writers seem to think this sounds cool when written into dialogue. To wit:
Hey, Bob, good to see you.
You too, Joe. Been well?
Bob, you have no idea.
Well Joe, times are tough.
Tell me about it, Bob. I hear you, man.
Only a bit of an exaggeration here. I see this all the time in the manuscripts I'm hired to critique and coach. If it only happened once it might fly under the radar – because it does happen, once in a blue moon, in real life, and it sounds odd then, too – but usually when it appears it pops up throughout the entire manuscript like a skin rash.
Rule of thumb: never do this in your dialogue. Never.
With experience comes an ear for dialogue. But you can shorten that learning curve dramatically by simply axing out the use of proper names.
Unless someone is calling on the phone and opens with, "Is Mary there?", don't make this mistake.
2. Chit-Chat
William Goldman, the senior statesman of screenwriting who is also an accomplished novelist, advises us to begin our scenes at the last possible moment.
This is huge. Some of the best advice ever, even for novelists. Because implicit within its genius is the assumption – the prerequisite – that the writer completely knows the mission of each and every scene.
Read that again, it can change your entire storytelling experience.
Skip the pleasantries when two people meet. Avoid the weather talk. The how-have-you-beens. Instead, opt for something like this:
After a few minutes of catching up Laura popped the question she'd come for.
"Are you having an affair with my husband?" she asked.
The first of those two lines can replace many paragraphs of useless chit-chat. Even when said chit-chat demonstrates characterization, without expositional value it's a useless distraction that eats away at pace. And pace is always important.
Characterization when it counts trumps characterization when it doesn't, every time.
I've read pages upon pages of chit-chat before a scene finally kicks in. I've seen entire scenes full of it without the scene ever arriving at a point. And I have to remind myself that I'm getting paid to read it.
But never in the story of an accomplished pro.
It's a judgment call, and with experience comes an evolved sense of pace and reader tolerance.
3. Too Much Description of Food
This is more common than you can imagine among newer writers. Meals are described with exquisite detail. Course after course, drenched with spicy, worshipful adjectives.
Delicious. Steaming hot. Slathered in a sweet sauce.
The only justification for doing this is when the meal is laced with arsenic. Because – and I'm serious about that analogy – because in such a case it would relate to the story.
If it doesn't relate, skip it.
Nobody cares what your hero has for breakfast. It's not important to know the menu of a meal prepared with love.
Ever. Unless, like I said, the meal matters. Which it hardly ever does.
4. Overwritten Sequential Time Fillers
Your hero has had a tough day at work. She comes home to shower and have a glass of wine before driving to the rendezvous point for her blind date that evening, which she'd been unable to stop thinking about all day.
As a writer, you now face a decision: cut to the date, or take us home with her for the shower and the wine and some lengthy pondering of her lonely life. Or better yet, cut straight to the date and cover any prior ground (her bad day at work, the shower and wine) with a short introductory sentence.
Inexperienced writers tend to take us home with her. Have us take a shower with her and ooh and ahh about how good the hot water feels. About the taste of the wine, a hint of cherry, a nice finish.
The more experienced writer cuts straight to the date.
This pitfall is similar to the chit-chat and food and transitional red flags described elsewhere in this article. The same standard applies: if it doesn't deliver salient expositional information, if it doesn't matter, if it just moves the character forward in time (as if the writer is obliged to show us each and every moment and hour of the hero's day, which isn't true), then skip it.
Know what matters, what counts, and why. Then, like a chess piece, move the scenes from one square to the next. Every time you hit the pause button to take a shower or reflect on the drive home, you're killing your story's pacing.
Mission-driven scene writing is the Holy Grail of long form storytelling. It is the context for almost every problem and solution you'll face.
5. Invisible Scene Transitions
Less is more. It really is. Unless we're talking foreplay, but that's another blog.
This principle leads us to the best transitional device known to the modern storyteller. The very best way get from one scene to the next is… to do nothing.
Literally.
Two words: white space.
Just end a scene cleanly, then skip a couple of lines and jump into the next scene. Which happens when either time or place or point of view changes.
Read that again, too. It's basic and critical.
If you're jumping to a new chapter this takes care of itself. But chapters are legitimately able to house an untold number of scenes, and if you want to make sure the reader is as aware of the transitions with them as you are, skip a line or two when time or place of POV changes.
Otherwise, your transition might look like this:
The meeting dragged on for several hours, complete with boring Powerpoint presentations and the lengthy pontifications of the CEO, who had never been on a sales call in her life. Tomorrow would be no exception. The sales call began at noon, with a rubber chicken catered lunch already on the table. The client posse arrived together, as if they'd marshaled in the parking lot to finalize strategy and send off any last minute texts.
It's not wrong, per se, it's just that the transition from scene to scene (note, it's now tomorrow, a different time and place) is not as clear and efficient as it could be. A reader who skims is likely to miss it.
Now look at it this way. A simple thing, with an empowering result:
The meeting went on for several hours, complete with boring Powerpoint presentations and the lengthy pontifications of the CEO, who had never been on a sales call in her life. Tomorrow would be no exception.
The sales call began at noon, with a rubber chicken catered lunch already on the table. The client posse arrived together, as if they'd marshaled in the parking lot to finalize strategy and send off any last minute texts.
Such simplicity. The power of the skipped line of white space is amazing.
These mid-chapter scenes – especially necessary transitional ones – can be as short as you want. One paragraph exposition that gets us from one point to the next are wonderful, especially if they replace two-page space fillers that seek to accomplish the exact same thing. The need to pad these scenes is the paradigm of the beginner… which, after being duly warned, you no longer are.
Such is the case with all five of these rookie mistakes. Your radar for them is the most important part of your review and edit process.
And if you can't wrap your head around it, I'm betting your significant manuscript-reader other can. Because they're readers, and readers are the victims when these things hit the page.
Want more craft? Please consider my book, "Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing," from Writers Digest Books.
5 Creative Flaws That Will Expose Your Lack of Storytelling Experience is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 18, 2011
"The Help" — A Guest Post About Subtext
Please welcome Donna Lodge, who contributes this challenging and rewarding take on the value and use of subtext in our stories.
I recently finished reading Linda Seger's book, "Writing Subtext: What Lies Beneath." It's a good res0urce, devoted to a often neglected aspect of our craft.
Seger discusses how to find subtext, how to write it (in dialogue and non-verbally through gestures, actions, settings, metaphors, symbols and many other devices), and how to keep it "sub" rather than overt. Each chapter ends with questions and exercises. Like Seger's other books, her primary target is screenplay writers, but the content is equally useful for writing novels, plays, or directing.
Like Larry often says, the line between novelists and screenwriters is more a line in the sand than it is a true literay chasm.
Like the "Six Core Competencies" in "Story Engineering," Seger deconstructs how to create subtext, and uses many spot-on examples from movies that show the nuts and bolts of the process.
Seger says, "Subtext is the true meaning simmering underneath the words and actions. It's the real, unadulterated truth. The text is the tip of the iceberg, but the subtext is everything underneath that bubbles up and informs the text…and conflict exists at this intersection of text and subtext…"
Applying Seger's deconstruction to "The Help," in Chapter One Aibileen listens to Miss Leefolt's bridge club's chatter while she serves lunch. The subtext in the passage below is close to the surface, which makes it easy to find and translate (or deconstruct).
In general, Stockett's book accumulates subtext (from most to least) when (1) a maid and her employer talk to each other; when (2) employers talk to each other, unwilling or unable to be direct; when (3) Skeeter talks with her mother/family/and almost but not quite fiancée; and (4) when "the help" talk to each other.
Typically, the women who comprise the help say what they mean, and mean what they say.
To better understand and build layers of meaning beneath the text, Seger offers a simple but powerful idea: write the subtext under the text or in the margins (a second draft undertaking).
AIBILEEN
"When I get around to Miss Walter, she don't take but one little old half a sandwich for herself."
Subtext: Miss Hilly isn't taking care of her mama. Miss Walter knows her daughter wants to move her to that nursing home, out of her own home. Miss Walter is afraid, and that makes her loose her appetite.
MISS HILLY
"Mama, take another sandwich. You are skinny as a telephone pole. I keep telling her, if that Minny can't cook she needs to just go on and fire her."
Subtext: Mama won't cooperate. It's Minny's fault, not mine. Minny's a bad cook and that's why Mama won't eat.
MISS HILLY
"I think you're malnutritioned, Mama. That Minny isn't feeding you so that she can steal every last heirloom I have left. I'm going to the powder room. Y'all watch her in case she collapses dead of hunger."
Sub-text surfaces when her mother responds with, "I bet you'd love that."
Seger notes that scripts have individual scene goals, which she calls the "Underlying Objective," and a goal for the entire script, or a "Super-Objective." The story goal is in the script's text,
"…but films rich in subtext have hidden goals under the surface…their 'Super-Objective. This objective, which exists on the subtextual level, helps drive the actor's emotions and actions for the entire scene… and the more conscious the writer, the greater the possibility that the script will be unified by a clear objective, even if it lies under the surface."
Seger quotes 1950's director, Harold Clurman (Directors on Directing: A Source Book of the Modern Theater). Clurman directed the Broadway play, The Member of the Wedding, based on the film about a 12-year-old girl's coming-of-age (book of same title written by Carson McCullers). What Seger calls the "Super Objective," Clurman called the "Spine."
He saw each character seeking the same objective, but each approached the action differently (as do Aibileen, Minny, and Skeeter in "The Help"). From this notion, Clurman identified individual "spines" for each of the main characters, all related to the objective 'to get connected.' Clurman said, "A mighty loneliness emanates from this play. It is as if all the characters were separated from the world."
Sub-text, and only sub-text, delivers this particular conclusion on a platter.
Seger writes about ways in which the subtext-objective works, cites movies, and analyzes them. Her book has a good balance of "What" and "How" – theory and application. All of which is instructive, and all of which can be applied, like "The Six Core Competencies" of "Story Engineering."
Seger says, "For writers, this super-objective could also be called the subtext objective. It's the driving force of the story…the underlying action that runs beneath the surface. The stronger the flow, the greater the desire to achieve this objective, and the more tension, conflict, and subtext there is. By having a subtext-objective, as well as a text objective, the underlying current adds depth and direction."
The subtext-objective can work in three ways: (1) All the characters (except the antagonist) in a script/play/novel can be working toward the same super-objective (as do Aibileen, Minny, and Skeeter). They may want the same thing, but are working toward it in different ways, which generates tension and conflict. (2) A major character might be working toward the super-objective, but other main/supporting characters may not have the same objective until later in the story. (3) The protagonist and antagonist will have opposing underlying-objectives and super-objectives.
I thought there were two choices of the super-objective or subtext-objective of the story, "The Help," and of the main characters, Aibileen, Minny, and protagonist Skeeter. It could be defined as: to have freedom. As I looked at Seger's examples, the second choice, which I think is more on target, is that the super-objective or subtext-objective of the story is: to have choice, which to me is less generic, more personal. For the antagonist of the story, Miss Hilly, the super-objective or subtext-objective of the story could be defined as: to prevent or deny choice.
Donna Lodge is a freelance writer. She's writing a novel about Will Shakespeare, who time-travels to the Catskill Mountains as a stand-up comic. To her amazement, she got an "Honorable Mention" in the Writer's Digest 2011 short story contest.
(Editor's note… a killer concept, that.)
"The Help" — A Guest Post About Subtext is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 16, 2011
Ten Reasons You Might Really Like the Best Novel I Ever Wrote
No, I'm not Barbara Ehrenreich, who wrote a bestseller by the same name. While we are often confused, we look nothing alike and quickly return each other's mail.
My fourth novel, "Bait and Switch," was originally published in 2004 by Signet, a division of Pengiun-Putnam. Before they threw me under the bus. I've just re-released it as a digital book, and here are ten reasons you might want to consider it:
10. Sex, private jets, spoiled billionaires and a hero who can't be bought. A truly vicarious reading experience, if you have a pulse. No penis required, this is a book for everyone who likes thrillers. And sex. And private jets.
9. Publishers Weekly can't be that far off the mark. Starred review, lead Editors choice, lead entry in their "Best Books of 2004 – Mass Market" list. Not that much has changed, except everybody uses smartphones these days.
8. The book also made PW's "Best Overlooked Books of 2004" list, the only paperback so-honored (honored?). This is your chance to help right the wrongs of a fickle marketplace.
7. Did I mention it is only 99 cents? Kind of a no-brainer if you like this type of story. Think Nelson Demille meets Vince Flynn, with a hint of Stuart Woods.
6. Here's a new one: I'll guarantee your satisfaction. Literally. I'll send you a buck if you don't feel you got more than your 99 cents worth. Or if you simply don't like the story or the writing. I have nine dollars set aside for this contingency.
5. Mass market paperbacks are not widely reviewed. Had this been a hardcover, it would have been a contender for all the usual Bestseller lists. That's not me talking trash, that's my editor at Penguin Putnam, who got outvoted when that decision was made. He's now working at Amazon.com.
4. This is one of the first re-released novels by a proven bestselling author who has had the rights reverted to them. Which means, it just might be a cut above the usual digital fare. Just sayin'. This book has never seen a rejection slip.
3. It did sell about 40,000 copies, in case you're thinking it tanked. It didn't.
2. As a test tube baby in the emerging minefield of digital marketing, this book brings proven chops, and it'll be interesting to see if quality trumps the scope of one's Tweet universe in the race for a spot in the Amazon KindleTop 100. Let's hope that's the case.
And the #1 reason to buy the digital Version of Larry Brooks' "Bait and Switch" for just 99 cents…
One word – DECONSTRUCTION. If I reach my goal of 1000 copies sold in July, I'll do a major deconstruction and analysis of the book here on Storyfix. I've done them before so you know how illuminating these things can be, but you've never seen one done from the author's point of view. We'll be going deep and wide, tearing the cover off the creative process to expose the Matrix-like skeleton of dramatic forces that makes this story – and any effective novel or screenplay — effective.
This is about walking the walk along with all this story architecture talk. Reading is believing.
Click HERE to go to the Kindle page, where you can read reviews and, ahem, buy the book. The price goes to $2.99 on August 1, when my other novels (in addition to "Whisper of the Seventh Thunder," which is already available as a digital download) will also become available at that price.
Or, buy it on Nook here. Or again, b uy it Smashwords HERE .
Click HERE to read the post that rolled out this promotion, which includes more background on the book and the goals of this project.
Thanks for your time. I hope, at least, that this has made you smile. Worth the effort if it did.
Also…
My first novel (my USA Today Bestseller "Darkness Bound") is also available at Kindle and Smashwords and Nook.
If you liked Fatal Attraction, Basic Instinct, and Body Heat, all with a spicy little dash of Story of O, this may be your cup of strong black tea.
And it'll give you something really interesting to discuss with your significant other.
Ten Reasons You Might Really Like the Best Novel I Ever Wrote is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 15, 2011
"The Help" – A Happy Ending… ?
Great endings are hard to craft.
Fun to read… easy to take for granted when we do. Unless it bombs.
My favorite author, Nelson Demille, totally tanked the ending of "Night Fall" when he concluded the story with a deus ex machina of preposterous proportions. After hundreds of pages of rooting for the hero as he gathers evidence and positions the antagonists for a hard and gratifying fall, the ending had them all meeting with the press and the FBI for a come-to-Jesus outing of the truth… in the North tower of the World Trade Center on September 11th, 2001.
Even Demille admitted later that he really didn't know how else to end this thing. Which shows that, even at his level – believe me when I say, these A-list brand name authors have different standards than the rest of us, and sometimes they're lower – at some point in the process we need to write our stories with a specific ending in mind.
I advocate that point occurring before you begin a draft, as defined during your story planning process. (Read more about that HERE.)
This is one of the most powerful principles in all of storytelling.
Every other milestone in our stories have criteria and timing attached.
But with endings… the timing is obvious… and the only other criteria is that it deliver an emotional experience – good or bad – to your reader. That's it. Doesn't have to be happy or sad, you don't have to tie up all the loose ends, you don't have to even end it, you can just stop if you want… provided it delivers the requisite emotional response.
Kathryn Stockett begins setting up the ending of "The Help" at the Second Plot Point, which occurs on page 452 (of the trade paperback edition) when Miss Skeeter tells her co-authors that Harper and Row has accepted their book for publication.
It's on. No turning back now. The consequences of their actions are inevitable.
It is the anticipation and unfolding of those consequences that create the contextual missions for each of the remaining scenes in the book. There are several storylines to wrap up, and each gets its moment at center stage, and in context to the dramatic circumstances that have been assigned to them earlier in the story.
Skeeter leaves town, gets a career. Aibileen gets framed and fired, but it doesn't bother her, she's free. And Minny… well, Minny certainly gets her pound of flesh out of the hide of Miss Hilly, who deserved much worse.
If you're like me, I'm guessing that as you read this book you kept visualizing possible endings. I was expecting to see Skeeter's book explode the entire community into a frenzy of rebellion, violence and, ultimately, a changing of the culture. Perhaps even the book becoming a national catalyst that would influence the entire civil rights movement, a Rosa Parks headline delivered in hardcover.
Stockett went nowhere near that type of ending.
And in doing so, she teaches us how powerful a more subtle and character-driven ending can be.
To have there would have been a departure from the realistic tonality the book had maintained from the first page. It would have been too Hollywood, as if Michael Bay had taken a crack at the final draft.
In a story that sought to be a serious thematic inquiry into a dark slice of American history, in retrospect I realize that the lighter touch was the only viable option.
Miss Skeeter's book didn't set the country free of racism.
It didn't even set the characters free from it. Rather, it set those characters free from allowing it to define them. Through their courageous act of defiance and outrage, they became something more than their oppressors.
All the characters march forward into their lives as better people. As quiet heroes who fought for and won their own freedom of will.
This is one of the many lessons I take away from "The Help."
In a character-driven story, the ending must be character-specific and thematically powerful. In a plot-driven story, the ending can be bigger, it can be Hollywood.
This book challenges us to aim high, to bestow a gift to the world that reflects darkness through a lens of hope. A book that invests the reader in the characters in a way that transcends empathy, that indeed become transcendent.
So many lessons for writers to learn from this book. So many lessons for human beings to learn from reading it.
It remains to be seen how Hollywood will handle the ending of the adaptation (coming out in August), but I'm guessing it'll remain true to the book itself… if for no other reason that Stockett was called in to help the screenwriter get it right.
The only real "rule" for our endings is this: it must remain true to the story just told, and reward the reader with something that resonates.
Beyond that, this is the one place in a story where the writer is pretty much alone with their instincts and the nature of the corner into which they've painted themselves. The principles of story architecture lead the writer to this point, but the ending is where story and writer become one, and together they make their fate.
Wondering what you thought of the ending?
Hope you've enjoyed this series on "The Help."
There's already one wonderful guest post scheduled for next week that takes a closer look at subtext in this story, and more might surface as we move forward together.
Next series… a deconstruction of my novel, "Bait and Switch," which I've just re-released as an ebook (only 99 cents through July 31).
Some have asked how the launch is going. A few hundred books have sold, almost entirely because of this blog. For all the noise about "please make it available on Nook!," you can count those sales on one hand.
So far I'm cynical about the whole social media aspect of this – bad news, since this is where he so-called gurus of self-published digital ebooks claim is the sweet spot… I did it, it didn't work. The best social media is word-of-mouth… so if you liked the book, please recommend it to someone.
Meanwhile, I'll just take my starred review and go home.
Kidding… the book will remain on Kindle, Smashwords and Nook, and eventually on iBook once it gets to through their weeks-long vetting process. And I'll keep experimenting with the various venues of pitching and pimping and promoting until I find something that actually works.
Maybe this…
NEW BOOK RELEASE – WARNING, THIS NOVEL MIGHT BE TOO HOT TO HANDLE!!!
Does sex sell? Let's find out.
I've also just re-released my USA Today bestselling novel, "Darkness Bound," on Kindle and Smashwords (so far).
Fair warning, it's a highly sexual, dark and sexualized (meaning, the romance of seduction) thriller.
Not erotica, per se (it's what I call a "relationship thriller, a sort of romance from a male point of view… this is far sexier than erotica (my opinion), as it relies on the context of seduction rather than explicitness, which it really isn't… though you might need a shower when you're done, and you'll certain have something juicy to discuss with your significant other…), but rather, it's dark and kinky and totally a guilty pleasure, one shared by several hundred thousand readers when it was published by Onyx ten years ago (the national radio campaign didn't hurt either). At the time it was mistakenly classified as "erotica" by the major bookclubs, probably because of the cover art of the original paperback.
Read the Publishers Weekly review, and if you like this kind of thing, please give it a shot. It's only $2.99, but on Smashwords (as a Kindle version through this venue, too) you can use the discount code – TD43M – to buy it for 99 cents, also until the end of July, when I'll do a major release promotion.
Darkness Bound by Larry Brooks (Kindle Edition - Jul 12, 2011)
Thanks, as usual, for considering my work.
"The Help" – A Happy Ending… ? is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 10, 2011
Sunday Side Notes
Just possibly the worst SEO headline in the history of blogging.
But that's what I have for you today. A couple of side note ditties. Meanwhile, I hope you'll help yourself to the ongoing series on "The Help," which should wrap this week.
Meanwhile..
The Small World of Writers
Early on – June 19, 2009, the first month of this site's life – I did a post called "The Writing Tip That Changed My Life." That tip was this: in the career of a real writer, nothing is ever lost.
Food for thought when the next rejection slip arrives.
The tip was given to me by a man named Dan Wickenden, then a Senior Editor at a firm (the forebear of the current paperback imprint Jove) called Harcourt, Brace and Jovanovich. No one knows what happened to poor Mr. Brace, but the other two names had a future.
We all have a guy like Dan Wickenden somewhere along our writing path. At least if we're lucky.
After the post ran a reader dug up Dan's obituary. He passed in 1986, and this was the first I'd heard about it. I'd even acknowledged him in the Forward of one of my early novels, saying, "… and for Dan Wickenden, wherever you are."
He'd been gone for 15 years by then.
Anyhow, a pretty cool thing happened last week. I was reading myself to sleep with the latest Entertainment Weekly magazine (June 24 issue), when I noticed a name in a book review on page 79. The book was "Nothing Daunted," which is getting killer reviews everywhere, including this one.
The author's name caught my attention immediately: Dorothy Wickenden. I had a gut feeling, and I leapt out of bed and hit the search engines.
Sure enough, Dorothy Wickenden is Dan Wickenden's daughter. Born and bred to the trade – not only has she published this bestselling memoir of her grandparents circa 1916, she is also the Executive Editor at New Yorker magazine.
Dan was right. Everything we do matters. And somehow, somewhere, it all connects. Maybe even for our kids.
Remember the iconic novel, "Catch-22" by Joseph Heller?
There's an incredible article about the history of the book – not the history in the book, but the history of it's writing and publication in 1961 – on page 114 of the August issue of Vanity Fair (the one with a smokin' shot of actress Emma Stone on the cover).
The book was truly life-changing for many people, and the publishing industry, which didn' know what to do with it at first. And that includes me (I was barely in grade school when it was published), when I discovered it some twenty years later. It and "Catcher in the Rye" made me want to write stories someday. Mainly, I suppose in retrospect, because they were both narrated by smart asses.
Late to the party, still got an eggroll, though.
Check out the picture on page 118. It's a close-up of Heller's story planning chart.
And you thought I just made this stuff up.
"Bait and Switch" is now available on Nook.
You may recall me mentioning, I've re-launched my 2004 novel, "Bait and Switch" as an ebook, and running a July promotion for only 99 cents.
Some of you jumped me for not immediately making it available on the Barnes & Noble Nook platform – duly noted.
It's there now. You can check it out HERE. Please scroll down and read the review if you have an extra minute.
There are 19 other books there called "Bait and Switch," so mine is in good company. Look for the blood spattered cover, and my name.
One of those 19 Bait and Switches (by a guy named Andrew McAleer) bears a selling price of $539.69 for the hardcover. Must be pretty good, ya think? The paperback, also shown, is only $8.94.
Yet other books of the same title sell from $40.00 to $148.00.
I don't get it, either.
Thanks to all who have opted in on the "Bait and Switch" (linked to Kindle here) 99 cent deal. I hope you feel you're getting your money's worth. Just think, it's $538.70 cheaper than that other book by the same name… and I bet it didn't get a starred review from Publishers Weekly.
Sunday Side Notes is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 7, 2011
"The Help": Recognizing the Screaming Power of Narrative Sub-Text
We all know what sub-plot means. It's what's going on in a story that isn't – yet – directly connected to, or dependent upon, the main plotline.
Like a guy getting newly married to a younger woman who gets kidnapped by his not-so-young ex-wife. Escaping the kidnapping is the primary dramatic plotline. The evolution of his pending marriage – indeed, his relationship with his new bride – is the sub-plot. Because she's hitting the clubs while he's locked in a warehouse.
But sub-text… that's a 202 term in a 101 world.
Sub-text is almost completely synonymous with context. The only difference is, in fact, the difference between "sub" and "con" – context is everywhere, including center stage. Sub-text is completely invisible and unacknowledged, yet it drives everything… contextually.
Sounds confusing, I'll grant you. Let me try to clarify. And yes, this is 202-level stuff… stuff you'll want to know and master when you step up to a professional level of fiction writing.
Because sub-text is absolutely essential.
Sub-text is the state and nature of the world in terms of what is going on in a story. It is what drives and affects the characters. It is the unspoken meaning and intention behind what is actually spoken.
The exact same scene, word for word, but written with different sub-text (largely driven by where the scene appears in the story, which is contextual), would read – or, be interpreted – completely differently.
Example: the kidnapped guy and his gun-toting ex are having a conversation about the past. If this is pre-kidnapping (maybe they've met for coffee), this would be one flavor of sub-text: their past is context for everything they say to each other.
But if this is post-kidnapping, then any conversation between them has a completely new sub-text, even if it seems warm and polite, which may include manipulation, thinly veiled threats, sarcastic and ironic bitterness and barely-masked fear in a way the first sub-text would not.
In "The Help," each of the four parts offers the reader a new sub-text for the scenes within it. This is basic story architecture, but at a 202 level. As such, it's not coincidental that the missions of each of the four parts – set-up, response, attack, and resolution – are, in fact, descriptors of the sub-text itself.
The mission of each of the four parts of a story is to shift the context, and therefore the sub-text, to another level: the sub-text resulting from a set-up context to a responsive one… from a responsive one to an attacking one… and from an attacking one to a resolving one.
The Four Sub-texts of "The Help"
In Part 1 of "The Help," there is no solution to the problem of racism or the specific lives of the character. None of that is on the table… yet. The sub-text of everything is: this is just how things are. And it sucks.
In part 2 of "The Help," the sub-text shifts. Because now, everything is contextually different, thanks to the emergence of Miss Skeeter's book project as a very real possibility. That project becomes the primary source of dramatic energy, tension and momentum, via the posing of the central dramatic questions it poses: will the book get written? If it does, what consequences will come of it?
The scenes in Part 2 read very much the same as the scenes in Part 1, but the context is different, because the sub-text is different. Now, each character has thoughts and considers options in relation to their awareness of the possibility of their participation in Skeeter's book. They look at their situations differently than before, even though the dynamics of their relationships and the nature of their conversations are the same. They are hearing and evaluating everything through fresh eyes and keener sensitivity – indeed, this is hope emerging in their lives – and considering the possible risks and rewards of participating.
In Part 3 of "The Help," the context shifts yet again – there are real life and death consequences to consider now – and once again the sub-text is something new. Now, each participant is in, they are past the point of no return, and their own tolerance of the injustices of their lives – or, if you're on the bigoted side of that fence, the threat and utter outrage of what seems to be happening – takes on a new urgency and danger.
In Part 4 of "The Help," after the Second Plot Point revelation of Minnie's Big Secret and the potential consequences of Miss Hilly's reaction to it being made public, yet again there is an edgy new context, and therefore a behind-the-dialogue sub-text that permeates each and every exchange.
This "behind the dialogue" perspective is a good way to recognize – and deliver as a writer – the power of sub-text.
Another Familiar Example of Sub-Text
Remember the film, "A Few Good Men," when Jack Nicholson is having lunch with Tom Cruise and Demi Moore at an outdoor table in Cuba, discussing the recent death of one of Nicholson's men? That scene is dripping with raw sub-text amidst otherwise polite and pointed conversation, from comments about the meal to the obvious deference and disdain between the characters. Other than a moment when Nicholson goes straight at it, the sub-text is never acknowledged yet is the loudest voice at the table. It drives the meaning, implication and intention of everything these characters say in that scene.
Watch it, recognize it. In fact – and this is so cool – you can watch it RIGHT HERE via Youtube. Just be sure to come back when you're done. See you in six minutes.
Now, as you continue to study "The Help," see how you're now suddenly aware of the power of sub-text as a dramatic force, and how it shifts as the story moves along.
Please consider my book, "Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing," to learn more about the principles of story architecture and the contextual milestones, missions and forces that make them universal and effective. It's both 101 and 202 in nature, so there's good news for all writers looking for an edge.
Also, please CLICK HERE…
… to read my utterly self-serving yet unapologetically persuasive "Top Ten Reasons To Buy My Best Novel for 99 Cents." This is part of my July re-launch promotion of "Bait and Switch," and it's not your typical online marketing schmaltz. (Publishing your own book is like operating a vehicle… nothing happens without your foot on the pedal. Coasting lasts, like, a few seconds.)
You and I will both be glad that you did.
"The Help": Recognizing the Screaming Power of Narrative Sub-Text is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 5, 2011
"The Help" — Seeing the Structure in Living Color. Literally.
I could write until I'm blue in the face (dressed in black while wearing cool sunglasses) about how the principles of story engineering have helped me see books and storytelling like Neo sees zeros and ones in the movie The Matrix. My previous Storyfix guest post attests to this eye-opening analogy.
In doing that post I realized that writing about the benefits of proper story structure is like describing a flower—not as effective as simply showing a picture of a flower.
I needed to create a visual of story structure to drive home fully how valuable this structural model is. So I did.
Take a close look at the images below, especially the first one.
Look at the bottom of the book.
There they are, the four parts of "The Help" in full four-color glory. Four parts, four colors, each of roughly equal length. Story unveiling in quartiles, each with a unique and separate contextual mission to fulfill.
Coincidence? I think not.
As you can see, a different color represents each of the four sections of a book.
Major milestones like the first plot point and mid point are noted where they appear.
I chose yellow for the Part 1 setup because I felt that color best represented discovery.
I chose pink to represent the Part 2 response where the protagonist is reactive but unsure.
I used red to represent the Part 3 attack stage—what better color could I choose for such a contextual stage?
And I used green to represent outcome.
Each scene within these four parts is marked to allow me to remember the importance of scene execution, and study this basic building block of successful storytelling. I've even gone so far as to put the book's scene numbers and total page numbers of each scene into Microsoft Excel and plot a chart to see what patterns I can see.
Story engineering, indeed.
Larry's been telling us forever that if we break down books into their smaller compartments, each with a target mission and context, storyteling won't seem as daunting. Until I visualized "The Help" with color, I didn't completely convince myself. But when I looked at the different colored sections of this book, I said, "I'll be damned. Writing a book seems easier now."
Just like neo getting his first glimpse of the Matrix. It's always there, but only when you see it can you use it. Otherwise, it's using you.
With this visual deconstruction of The Help, I can pass down a valuable tool to my son and daughter if they ever choose to pursue a writing career too. And for this gift, I offer Larry the following graphic:
Note from Larry — no better online gift than a huge smile. Thanks to Shane for sharing this helpful tactic and his enthusiasm.
Also, please help me re-launch my 2004 critically-acclaimed novel, "Bait and Switch" on Kindle and Smashwords (coming soon to Nook and iBook). The goal is to crack the Kindle Top 100… we have a nice start with several hundred books moved over the weekend. It's up for 99 cents in July, and I'll refund your money if you don't like the read. So please give it a shot, and if you like it, tell your friends.
If we reach the Top 100 in July, I'll do an extensive deconstruction series on the book from the author's point of view, something we can't bring to the other deconstructions we show here. There is a lot of stuff going on in the mind of the author of this book, and I'll splash it on the page for you, provided enough people show interest by buying it.
Again… it's 99 cents, and it's both proven and guaranteed.
Sexy novels that turn fantasy into dangerous reality are — well, they're not hard to find, but really good ones are on the rare side, and relationship thrillers (think romances on steroids and Viagra) that that are fun to read and sometimes make you think are even rarer. That's the take on "Bait and Switch" — vicarious fun with heavy-handed themes.
Read more about this offer on my previous post, HERE.
"The Help" — Seeing the Structure in Living Color. Literally. is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
July 1, 2011
Just Possibly the Best Novel You've Never Read… for 99 Cents
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amznJQ.available('jQuery', function() {
if(canHaveIV && selectedImageID == 'original_image') {
jQuery('#prodImage').css('cursor','pointer');
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').text( '' );
jQuery('#prodImage').addClass('prod_image_selector');
}
jQuery('#prodImageCell').css('visibility', 'visible');
if( 0) {
setIVCaption('');
}
});
}
for ( elementID in registeredImages ) {
var imageThumbnail = document.getElementById(elementID);
if (imageThumbnail != null) {
imageThumbnail.style.border = '1px solid #999999';
var thumbClass = (0) ? 'altImgThumbnail' : 'productThumbnail';
imageThumbnail.className = thumbClass;
}
if ( !allPreloaded ) {
var imagePreloader = new Image();
imagePreloader.src = registeredImages[elementID].image;
}
}
if (0) {
document.getElementById(id).style.border = '2px solid #E47911';
document.getElementById(id).className = 'altImgSelect';
} else {
document.getElementById(id).style.border = '1px solid #990000';
}
allPreloaded = 1;
if (registeredImages[id].ciuAnnoContainer) {
registeredImages[id].ciuAnnoContainer.show();
}
if (0) {
preloadHiRes(id);
}
if( 0) {
if(isIVConstructed && immersiveView) {
immersiveView.createIVTrigger();
}
}
}
function resetCaption(thumbID) {
amznJQ.available('jQuery', function() {
if(0 && 0) {
if(!thumbID) {
if(selectedImageID)
resetCaption(selectedImageID);
return;
}
if( registeredVideos[thumbID]) {
if(isVideoPlaying) {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html( '' );
} else {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html( '' );
}
} else {
if(thumbID.substring(0, 4) == 'cust') {
setIVCaption();
} else {
if(hoverzoomEnabled && registeredImages[thumbID] && registeredImages[thumbID].hiResUrl) {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html( '' );
} else {
if(hasAnyCustImage()) {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html("
");
} else {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html("
");
}
}
}
}
}
});
}
function hasAnyCustImage() {
if (isAnyCust != -1)
return isAnyCust;
for ( elementID in registeredImages ) {
if(elementID.substring(0, 4) == 'cust'){
isAnyCust = 1;
return 1;
}
}
isAnyCust = 0;
return 0;
}
var ivImageSet;
var ivSelectedImageId = 0;
var ivVideoSet;
function isIVable(isLargeEnough) {
canHaveIV = isLargeEnough;
}
function addToIVImageSet(thumbSrc, zoomSrc)
{
if( !ivImageSet ){
ivImageSet = new Object();
}
if( !0 )
return;
var id = 0; //only 1 set of images for IV in single variation
if (ivImageSet[id] == null) {
ivImageSet[id] = new Object();
}
if (ivImageSet[id].images == null) {
ivImageSet[id].images = {thumbnails:[],zoomImages:[]};
}
var currId = ivImageSet[id].images.thumbnails.length;
ivImageSet[id].images.thumbnails[currId] = thumbSrc;
ivImageSet[id].images.zoomImages[currId] = zoomSrc;
}
function addToIVVideoSet(mediaID, slateImg, title, duration)
{
if( !ivVideoSet ){
ivVideoSet = new Object();
}
if( !0 )
return;
var id = 0; //only 1 set of images for IV in single variation
if (ivVideoSet[id] == null) {
ivVideoSet[id] = new Object();
}
if (ivVideoSet[id].videos == null) {
ivVideoSet[id].videos = {mediaIDs:[],slateImages:[],titles:[],durations:[]};
}
var currId = ivVideoSet[id].videos.mediaIDs.length;
ivVideoSet[id].videos.mediaIDs[currId] = mediaID;
ivVideoSet[id].videos.slateImages[currId] = slateImg;
ivVideoSet[id].videos.titles[currId] = title;
ivVideoSet[id].videos.durations[currId] = duration;
}
function setIVSelectedImageId(imageId) {
if( !0 )
return;
ivSelectedImageId = imageId;
}
var immersiveView;
function openImmersiveView(e) {
var isImage;
if( !(0) || !canHaveIV) {
return;
}
if(isIVConstructed) {
if(!jQuery.browser.mozilla) {
jQuery(document.body).css("overflow","hidden");
}
return;
}
if(e) {
e.cancelBubble = true;
}
if(!jQuery.browser.mozilla) {
jQuery(document.body).css("overflow","hidden");
}
jQuery(document.body).css("opacity","0.4");
jQuery('#loadingImage').css({"left": function(){
return ( jQuery(window).width() - jQuery('#loadingImage').width() ) / 2+jQuery(window).scrollLeft() + "px";
},"top" : function(){
return ( jQuery(window).height() - jQuery('#loadingImage').height()) / 2+jQuery(window).scrollTop() + "px";
},"display":"block"});
var currentId = selectedImageID.split('_');
var selectedId = currentId.length <= 2 ? 0 : currentId[currentId.length-1];
isIVConstructed = true;
// Give some time for cancel bubble to work
setTimeout( function() {
amznJQ.available("immersiveView", function(){
jQuery('#loadingImage').css("display","none");
immersiveView = jQuery.fn.amazonImmersiveView();
immersiveView.setTitle(jQuery('#btAsinTitle').text());
immersiveView.setProductGroupID('ebooks_display_on_website');
immersiveView.changeImageSet(ivImageSet);
immersiveView.changeVideoSet(ivVideoSet);
immersiveView.setMediaUrls(ivMediaUrls);
if ((currentId[0] === 'alt') || (currentId[0] === 'original') || (currentId[0] === 'cust')) {
isImage = true;
} else {
isImage = false;
}
immersiveView.setInitialIDs(0, selectedId, isImage);
immersiveView.createImmersiveView(e, false);
// open IV first time
triggerIV();
});
}, 50);
setTimeout(function() {
//timeout if IV not load.
if(!immersiveView) {
jQuery('#loadingImage').css("display","none");
jQuery(document.body).css("overflow","auto"); // re-enable scrolling
jQuery(document.body).css("opacity","");
}
},30000);
// empty ajax call to set ref tags
jQuery.get('/gp/product/ajax-handlers/reftag.html?ref=dp_iv');
}
function setImmersiveViewContext()
{
if( !0 )
return;
var isImage;
immersiveView.setTitle(jQuery('#btAsinTitle').text());
var currentId = selectedImageID.split('_');
var selectedId = currentId.length <= 2 ? 0 : currentId[currentId.length-1];
if ((currentId[0] === 'alt') || (currentId[0] === 'original') || (currentId[0] === 'cust')) {
isImage = true;
} else {
isImage = false;
}
immersiveView.setInitialIDs(0, selectedId, isImage);
}
function triggerIV(triggerElement) {
if(isIVConstructed) {
if(immersiveView && !immersiveView.isIVOpen()) {
jQuery.AmazonPopover.displayPopover(immersiveView.getIVPopoverOptions());
}
} else {
openImmersiveView();
}
}
function videoClick() {
triggerIV();
}
var isVideoPlaying = false;
function videoStateChange(state){
var currentId = selectedImageID.split('_');
if ((currentId[0] === 'alt') || (currentId[0] === 'original') || getCurrentMediaId() == null) {
return;
}
if(state == "playing") {
isVideoPlaying = true;
if(0 && 0) {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html('');
} else {
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html('');
}
} else {
isVideoPlaying = false;
jQuery('#prodImageCaption').html('');
}
}
function getCurrentMediaId() {
return currentMediaID;
}
function setIVCaption(caption) {
if(selectedImageID.substring(0, 4) == 'cust') {
if(registeredImages[selectedImageID] && registeredImages[selectedImageID].caption && registeredImages[selectedImageID].caption.length) {
document.getElementById('prodImageCaption').innerHTML = registeredImages[selectedImageID].caption;
} else {
document.getElementById('prodImageCaption').innerHTML = "
";
}
} else {
if((!0 || hoverzoomEnabled) && canHaveIV && caption && caption.length) {
document.getElementById('prodImageCaption').innerHTML = caption;
} else {
if(hasAnyCustImage()) {
document.getElementById('prodImageCaption').innerHTML = "
";
} else {
document.getElementById('prodImageCaption').innerHTML = "
";
}
}
}
}
// ]]>
That headline makes me nervous.
Not because I'm stretching credibility or celebrating misplaced ego. But because I know how some people respond to anything that remotely smacks of self-aggrandizement. But I'm at a point in my life and my career where I shouldn't care what people think, provided I'm being true to them, and myself.
And in this case, I believe I am. My 2004 novel, "Bait and Switch," may indeed be the best novel you've never read, or at least close, at any price.
Not because I think so. But because Publishers Weekly did, along with the hundreds of readers who either reviewed the book or wrote to me directly, out of the tens of thousands who bought and read it.
Yeah, you read that right. Tens of thousands. So why the big deal right now? More on that in a minute.
"Bait and Switch" is a story about a guy in the ad biz who's tired of being an underwear model (you know, the bod on the box of new Jockeys) and a player, almost as much as he's tired of the ad biz itself. He gets a job offer he can't refuse: a Silicon Valley billionaire wants him to seduce his trophy wife, which, if successful, will negate the world's largest pre-nuptial agreement. Our guy, Wolfgang Schmitt, will get $5 million and free access to a fleet of jets, personal assistants and a variety of resorts and the delicious perks of this lifestyle, but only if he succeeds. And, if he survives the agenda of a beautiful but very likely dangerous lawyer. If he fails, he'll have to make do for only $1 million and a whole bunch of stories to tell.
It's fun, thrilling, sexy, vicarious and voyeuristic ride (don't we all wonder what it would be like to live like a billionaire?), with an ending that you won't see coming.
You can read the reviews HERE, including the starred review from Publishers Weekly (which they show twice… don't ask me why, though I don't mind).
There's a story behind this novel and the re-launch.
First, here's the deal: "Bait and Switch" is available on Kindle in the month of July for a strategic but real 99 cents.
My objective with this promotion, in addition to getting it into digital, is to see if what I'm hearing about the power of social media in the realm of digital publishing is true, and I'm uniquely positioned to do so. Why? Because of this blog, which I've labored over for two years and a month, and the roughly 5000 of you that read it every day.
That's a nice head start. According to the experts in this new field – especially Joe Konarth and John Locke, who is the first Kindle author not attached to a "Big 6" publisher to sell over 1 million copies of his work – success is a product of web visibility and relationships. Of earning a readership.
I hope you agree, I've worked hard to earn yours.
That's where you come in. Perhaps you've been reading Storyfix for a while, perhaps you're among a highly valued flock of newbies. Either way, you know I spill it all on these pages, that I pay zero attention to SEO and affiliate pimping, and aside from letting you know about my books, I ask nothing in return other than your growth as a writer.
My little chip shot into the universe from the rear deck of the karma train.
I'm still asking for nothing in return. But it's a safe bet you love reading fiction, and – based on what you'll read here next – it's a safe bet you'll like, maybe even love, "Bait and Switch."
This isn't about money, other than your chance to save a few bucks on a good book. Rather… I want to get in on the first wave of this new publishing phenomenon. And, because I'll be re-launching my other three "Big 6" published novels (to which I now own all rights) soon, hopefully in July as well.
All I ask if that if you like "Bait and Switch," you'll blurb it online somewhere, to Tweet it. And if you love it, that you'll tell some reader friends and let them get in on this 99 cent deal. From there I'll count on what seems to happen organically… many of you will buy and read my other books on Kindle, and on other ePub formats (such as the B&N Nook and Books for iPad).
If you don't like it, tell me and I'll send you your dollar back. Really. Not even Konarth and Locke are offering that deal.
The Story Behind the Book
The book, which was published as a mass market paperback original (which you can still get through Amazon as a used book), was a critical home run. To wit:
It received a starred review from Publishers Weekly when released by Signet (a Penguin Putnam imprint) in July of 2004.
PW named it their lead Editor's Choice in that month, along with names such as Jeffrey Deaver and Walter Mosley (which weren't the lead choice).
At year-end they named it to two lists: "Best Overlooked Books of 2004" (the only paperback so named), and "Best Books of 2004 – Mass Market" (lead entry in the cagetory; scroll down a bit to the Mass Market category, you'll see my cover next to the listing).
Thanks for considering this, and if you aren't, for tolerating it.
We'll finish up our deconstruction of "The Help" next week. Happy 4th to all.
Feel free to read a sample chapter (on the steamy side, be forewarned) HERE.
Go to the Kindle page HERE.
Another reason you should part with a buck for "Bait and Switch" — if enough folks opt-in during July, I'm planning a deconstruction of the novel here on Storyfix. Which will be interesting because, unlike the other deconstructions I've done here, this one will come from the author's point of view, so there's no lack of clarity about intentions regarding structural milestones and the various contextual parts and elements.
I'll have to reread it myself, in that case, too.
Just Possibly the Best Novel You've Never Read… for 99 Cents is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
