Kathryn Lilley, Author at Black Mask

Kathryn Lilley

Setting things up

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May 152012

Today's critique is for the first page of THE SET UP. My thoughts follow.

THE SET UP

    While I wait in line to pass through airport security, I check my pockets. Just my wallet, cell phone, and a ticket stub for the parking garage. And the envelope. No car keys. No knife. No gun.
    I left my girlfriend, Carly, in Vlad's Lexus with her iPad and orders to put the windows down if she smokes. Vlad is real particular about his car.
    A ticket to Philly is in my hand, but I'm not going on any airplane ride. I just have it in case the TSA agent asks. I do this kind of thing all the time, but a trickle of sweat runs down under my shirt collar and I flinch.
    They send me through the cattle gate, then wand me, and I grab the plastic tub with my stuff. Except the envelope. That's still in my jacket pocket, damp with sweat. They stop an old lady ahead of me and give her the choice of getting groped or getting radiation sickness. She must be ninety.
    It's almost eleven o'clock, and it's tough getting around all the moms with baby strollers and the stressed-out business types. I could use my size to push through, but I look at them and see the exhaustion on their faces and forget using my elbows and just walk.
    I find Gate D11 and slow down to look for the men's room. The setup is pretty standard. You pick an airport and name a gate that's inside security, that way both parties have to go unarmed. Meet in the bathroom, make the exchange. Simple.
    It's a different Mexican every time, but we've done three trades with them so far and it's gone fine. I see a stubby guy with a shaved head pop up from his seat, but then he goes to the window and gets on his phone. Not my guy.
    10:59. I pat the envelope for the tenth time and go to the bathroom door. There's a folding yellow sign in front, with a picture of a guy slipping and falling. I smile and go around it.
    The bathroom is big and cold. ...
* * *

My comments:

I was drawn in by this first page, after stumbling a bit on the title. (The noun version of "to set up" should be "setup" or "set-up".) I like the narrator's straightforward, present-tense voice. Present tense and first-person POV are tricky to handle, but this worked well for me.

I thought the idea of having crooks meet at the TSA-controlled airport was fresh. I did wonder how the narrator had pulled this rendezvous off repeatedly, what with no-fly lists, and the fact that by now he must be on record for buying tickets he didn't use. If nothing else, I'd think he'd be nervous about that aspect of it. He's described as being generally nervous, but the more specific his fear, the better.

Overall, the setup of THE SET UP was handled efficiently and well. I did object to the use of generics ("Vlad" and "Mexican") was too broad-brush for me, leading me to expect that I'm about to get a familiar Russian mafia vs. Mexican drug ring tale. I think it could use some compelling detail here to bring the reader more into the situation.

I got confused by the action flow. On the first read-through, when I read "I see a stubby guy with a shaved head pop up from his seat," I assumed the narrator was already in the bathroom, and the guy was popping out of a stall. Later I wondered why the author described the bathroom as "big and cold" when he'd already been in there for a while. I had to pause and reorient myself. By preceding action with "Meet in the bathroom, make the exchange," you've already put the reader's head in the bathroom. Don't then backtrack to the gate area for the guy popping out of his seat.

I thought the tension fell off a bit in the last paragraph, probably because I was confused during the first read, and thought he was exiting from the bathroom. I had no idea why he would smile, since he hadn't made the exchange.

It should be an easy fix to focus the action so that readers won't get confused by the flow. I admit that I'm relatively easily thrown as a reader. Not everyone would trip over the issues that misled me, but you don't want to lose any reader on the first page.

Was I the only one who got confused? Anyone else have anything to add?

Bringing them in the door

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May 012012

As we've discussed many times here at TKZ, our first job as writers is drawing the reader in. Today's first-page sample accomplished that goal for me. I'll let you read it, then finish with my thoughts.

THE SAHARA INTERCEPT

El Al has this silly rule requiring passengers to travel unarmed. I always thought the best way to stop a hijacker was to blow his head off. Thus, I arrived at Ben Gurion International Airport, the site of the nineteen seventy-three Lod massacre, disarmed, without my little Walthers PPK pistol, like the one Double-O Seven carries. He would have found a way, but I'm no James Bond.

I didn't anticipate any danger in Israel, but it never hurts to practice situational awareness. Not paranoia, just attention to details, in other words — watch my back — a good way to stay alive. For the last two years, it's worked. I'm still breathing.

Counter surveillance is an art. The most important thing is to be able to blend in, keep a low profile. Don't project an image someone will remember. I dressed as an ordinary tourist: tan pants, light blue polo shirt, and clean socks.

The key is to appear confident and natural, like you belong. I cleared customs and immigration and strode into the hustle and bustle of the main lobby, resolute in my ability to spot any imminent threat.

"Mister Ross Brannan?"

A slim well-groomed young woman with raven hair and deep penetrating green eyes stood before me: hand on hip, dressed in a neat crisp-pressed olive-green army uniform, her black beret worn at a jaunty angle, her self-assured smile and attitude enhanced by the nine-millimeter Uzi automatic carbine slung over her shoulder.

"That's me." How did she pick me out? Expectations can blind you if you simply concentrate on preconceived notions. You may miss a threat that may be real and near. I should have spotted her first.

"Shalom, welcome to Israel. My name is Tamara Alon. I am your escort." The way she said escort, was both sexy and suggestive."

"Thanks." Tamara seemed pleasant enough and not bad looking, not bad at all — matter of fact she was hot. "Say how did you know who I was?"

"I was shown your picture." Her eyes sparkled. "So I looked for a cowboy from the movies."

* * *

The humor here works well for me. First-person narrators are tricky to handle, but I like the way this page quickly establishes the main character as an Inspector Clouseau-type. He sees himself as James Bond, but in reality he's a bit of a bumbler.

I do have a small nit is with the first paragraph. The lengthy sentence with its many commas was a bit of a stumbling block for this reader; I think it would help to use numeric 1973 instead of spelling out the year. I also tripped over the first Double-O Seven reference, and had to reread the sentence that starts "He would have found a way" for clarity.)

I was a bit thrown by the use of italics. The italics, used to show internal thoughts, are interspersed with non-italicized, omniscient pronouncements ("Expectations can blind you if you simply concentrate on preconceived notions. You may miss a threat that may be real and near."). In this case, I would suggest removing these two non-italicized sentences, leaving only the narrator's chagrined reaction.

I think it's unnecessary to italicize the word "escort," because you provide the inflection in the next sentence. If you both italicize and explain, it's overkill. (It also is humorous to imagine, as this reader was by now, that the woman's inflection was only in the narrator's mind, not intended by her.) Remove the end quote from the end of that paragraph.

This is a personal preference, but I always bridle at "raven" hair and "sparkling" eyes. They're a bit cliche. You've already established that she has penetrating green eyes, so you probably don't need the sparkle. Also, I'm no gun expert (paging Miller and Gilstrap here), but I would check to make sure exactly which weapon an IDF escort would carry. And I'd work in an IDF reference, for Israel Defense Forces, where you say "army." The more specific your references are in your manuscript, the more authentic it will seem to the reader.

In the second-to-last paragraph, your narrator's reaction between "Thanks" and "Say, how did you know..." is a bit distracting, and doesn't add anything new to Tamara's description. Right now your character is thinking about the fact that he's been ID'd, not whether Tamara is hot or not. As a general rule, try to keep every paragraph tightly focused on a single action or reaction.

Those are all minor nits, though. Overall, I'm drawn in by this page. It's refreshing to have a hard-boiled main character taken down a notch on the first page.

What do you all think?

We’re doing first-page critiques again at TKZ

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Apr 172012

We're launching another round of first-page critiques here at TKZ! You can send us the first page of your manuscript (anonymously, of course!), and we'll critique it. Sound good?

Here's how it works: Send the first page (350 words max) of your manuscript as a Word attachment, along with the title, to the email address killzoneblog at gmail dot com. (We'll take the first 33 submissions we receive over a month's period, first come first served.) The pages will be divvied up among the Killers. From time to time we'll post each page, and do a critique. Everyone will be able to comment as well.

Last year we had great fun doing this exercise! We're looking forward to reading some of your pages!

Pushing the rock

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Apr 032012

King Sisyphus, according to Greek mythology, was an unfortunate soul who was condemned by the gods to forever push a giant boulder up a mountain, only to watch it roll back down the next day. For the rest of eternity, he was doomed to push, fail, and then repeat his task.

Sometimes the writing process can seem Sisyphean: "endless and unavailing, as a labor or a task."

We write, rewrite, are dissatisfied with the results, tear up our writing, and then repeat, only to face rejection. It can appear to be an endless loop of failure.

But appearances can be deceiving. Sisyphus never gave up on his task. And, as the best writers know, neither do we give up on writing. In fact, I would argue that the more dissatisfied and self-critical we become, the better we become as writers.

Over the years, I've watched many newbie writers toil in critique groups. They start out wide-eyed and breathless--they bring pages each week, eager to show them off to what they're certain will be group acclaim. A year later (if they stick with it), their eyes have lost their glow. They bring in pages, hungry now for magic words of advice which will point out what is wrong with their writing, and how to fix it.

Fast forward another year; they're still bringing in pages, but they're no longer expecting praise or instant cures. Their expressions have become grim and vaguely haunted. They already know what's wrong, and they're struggling mightily to self-correct. They are writing, revising, tearing up what they've written, and repeating. They may even have gotten a rejection or two from agents or magazines, but they're still going.

They have become writers.

I suppose each of us has our own reasons for pushing through this difficult process known as writing. I'm suspicious of writers who claim that being a writer is like living in Happyville, or that they're driven by a compulsion that they just can't help. Some of the most successful writers I know are miserable, neurotic wretches. Usually, they are the most miserable when they're on deadline.

Personally, I keep going because I like having written. I do not specifically "love" writing. Writing is difficult. Writing is never truly finished. Pick up anything you wrote more than a year ago, and you will find issues with it. If what you wrote has already been published, you will feel a pang of regret. I have been known to edit my writing as I'm reading it at a bookstore before an audience.

What makes you keep writing when things seem tough? And if everything is easy for you and you dwell in Happyville, feel free to share, even though I will resent you.

How I lost my fear of elevators and learned to pitch

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Mar 202012

As writers, we are constantly being told, "Develop a great elevator pitch."

For those of you who are new to the biz, an elevator pitch is a brief, concise presentation of your novel's central story. At its best, an elevator pitch is a clever and effective nugget that summarizes your entire manuscript. Think of it as a brilliant tag line for a movie. Here are some noteworthy tag lines you may have heard over the past 30 years:

"Eight legs, two fangs, and an attitude." (Arachnaphobia)

"She brought a small town to its feet and a corporation to its knees." (Erin Brockovich)

"The last man on Earth is not alone." (I Am Legend)

"Escape or die frying." (Chicken Run)

Ideally, one's elevator pitch should be brilliant enough to compel any editor or agent to scream, "You, author! Send me your pages!" Or better yet: "Sign this six-figure contract!"

Back in 2006, when I was a newish writer (I'd published four books under a pseudonym, but nothing on my own), I attended my first Sleuthfest. I was filled with trepidation--make that terror--about my elevator pitch. I didn't even want to go into the elevators, because I was afraid I'd run into an agent and blow my chance to pitch.

During the actual conference, I hung back. I watched as writers hounded an increasingly embattled group of agents and editors. Some even pursued their targets into the bathrooms to deliver a pitch. Over the course of the weekend, the expressions of the publishing professionals became glazed and semi-fearful, so accosted were they by the phalanxes of pitching newbies.

Here's what I learned about elevator pitches: Don't deliver one in an actual elevator, and never pitch to a publishing professional unless they specifically ask for it. Learn to read body cues; back off if you sense that your listener is merely being polite about your pitch, as opposed to genuinely enthusiastic.

At Sleuthfest, I was so afraid of pitching, I decided to limit my attempt to the "Agent Fest." This is where you sign up for 15-minutes of face time with an honest-to-God agent. This is the time to make your pitch.

But I was still nervous. At the last minute, I cancelled my appointment with my assigned agents, and gave my time to another writer (who seemed incredulous that I'd handed away such an opportunity).

I did keep my appointment with a NY editor, however. Here's why: the editor had actually read 30 pages of my work before our meeting. The agent's reaction would depend solely on my verbal skills. The editor would base her reaction on the actual writing. In the end, I trusted my manuscript more than my mouth.

It all worked out. The editor liked my story enough to request the rest of the manuscript. I went home and hurriedly wrote query letters that contained my pitch. I honestly can't remember what my pitch ended up being for the first Fat City Mystery, although it was something like, "Nancy Drew grows up, gains weight and develops a potty mouth." It must have worked, because within a half dozen queries, I had an agent, followed soon by a contract with a major publishing house.

Over time, I've become much more comfortable with pitching. It was helpful to attend meetings of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America, because both groups help you refine your speaking skills. Over the past few years I've been on panels and delivered presentations in person, so the whole speaking thing comes a tad easier these days.

But at my next conference, I may still avoid the elevators. I don't want to press my luck.

What about you? Have you had success with your elevator pitch? Does the idea of delivering one make you nervous? Any tips you can share?

Writing the final chapter on a recurring dream

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Mar 062012

Like many people, I have a few recurring dreams. Some of them--like the one where I discover I can fly--are good. Others are bad. One of the more unpleasant dreams has been driving me crazy for decades. In it I'm back in high school, and I suddenly realize that I've missed most of my classes for the entire semester. Panic ensues.

Now, it's been a heck of a long time since I graduated safely from high school, college, and graduate school. You'd think my subconscious would have caught on by now. And indeed the dream has evolved over time. Now I wander the halls as an older adult, having for some reason decided to repeat high school (the horror!), and suddenly I realize that I've missed most of my classes. Panic ensues.

During this dream, I have never once entered a classroom. I am doomed to wander the halls with no exit. A couple of weeks ago, however, when I was in the middle of a writing challenge in my waking life, I had the dream again. This time, I finally found my English class. I slipped behind a desk, braving the mocking stares of students who knew I'd missed everything and didn't have a chance. The assignment was to write a compelling 8-page paper.

I struggled to recall a story, quickly. It came in fits and starts. In the dream I gave the finished paper to the teacher. She looked up at me, smiled, and said, "You know, I think you've graduated from this level." I felt...released. Validated, somehow.When I woke up, I realized that the story I'd written in the dream was the first chapter of my WIP.

I hope that that last little mutation of the dream means it won't be back to annoy me. Maybe my subconscious has finally learned that life, indeed, moves on.
If it does come back, I hope at least I'll be in college this time. That would be so much more interesting than high school.

Have you ever found yourself writing in your dreams? Did anything you wrote while dreaming carry over into your waking hours?

The five most disturbing homicides in fiction

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Feb 212012

One day when I was ten years old, I plucked one of my mother's books from a shelf. It was a shiny paperback with a knife dripping blood on the front--a "potboiler," she called books of that type.

That story (which technically I wasn't allowed to read) helped me graduate from Nancy Drew to the world of grisly homicide. I never developed my mother's taste for potboilers, but I quickly discovered Poe and later, Truman Capote.

Some of these murder stories remain standouts--over the years, I've never quite shaken their chill. Here's my list of the top five most disturbing homicides in fiction:

1. The Cask of Amontillado
I'll never forget my horror as I read the story of a chained Fortunato being sealed behind a brick wall. It was the cheerfulness of his murderer that most unnerved me. Never again would I put my full trust in a smiling face.

2. The Tell-Tale Heart
Another Poe classic, this story of guilt and obsession is also told from the the murderer's point of view. What sound could be louder than the victim's heart beating from beneath those floorboards?

3. The Silence of the Lambs
This story is the perfect intersection of creepiness and terror. It blends cannibalism with the skin-deep antics of a cross-dressing tailor.

4. The Godfather
This book counts the many, many ways one can eliminate the business competition. My favorite was being garroted by a wire from behind.

5. Jaws
Technically, death by monster-shark isn't murder. But twenty years after reading this novel, I'm still won't put a toe in the ocean. Jaws killed my love of swimming. So I'm counting it.

So what tales of murder have most disturbed you over the years? Are blood and gore as disturbing to you as the psychological aspect of a crime?

Reader, interrupted: the downside of digital

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Feb 072012

The dog ate my e-books. All of them.

Actually it wasn't my dog that ate them, but a pair of Rhodesian Ridgebacks at our local park. MacGregor and I were playing fetch when I made the mistake of leaving my Kindle--encased in a new, apple-green leather case--on the bench. When I turned around, the Kindle was Ridgeback road kill.

Ridgebacks were traditionally used to hunt lions in Africa. Turns out, they also have a taste for leather and digital literature. My Kindle looked okay when I extracted it from their dripping fangs, but they must have snapped its little e-spine. It was a goner.

Back when I bought the Kindle and started downloading books, I gave passing consideration to the idea of losing an entire library in one fell swoop. Now that it's happened, I'm going to find out whether I can restore the whole library on another device. I'm sure there's some e-magical way to do that, but this entire experience has left me shaken. For one thing, I don't want to shell out money for another reader. Plus you never know when solar flares or another pack of wolf hounds will start messin' with your pixels.

Or maybe this time I'll go for broke. Get an iPad, maybe--but only if it comes with an insurance policy. Preferably one with compound interest.

Did you ever have disaster befall your e-reader? Did you lose any books?