writing tips Archives

Year End Review: Tradecraft 101, Spy Tips from Mischa Hiller’s Shake Off

espionage, Excerpts, Israel, John Le Carre, Mischa Hiller, Mossad, Mulholland Authors, Palestine, PLO, research, Shake Off, Tradecraft, Writing, writing tips Comments Off

Dec 292012

With 2013 just around the corner, it’s the perfect time to sit back and reflect on another year of great content and great books. Check back twice daily in the last days of 2012 for a selection of our favorite MulhollandBooks.com posts from the past year!

SHAKE OFF‘s Michel Khoury is a veritable encyclopedia of the espionage tradecraft that is essential to his life as a spy, which Mischa Hiller gleaned from access to someone with direct knowledge of the tricks of the trade. Want to learn how to become a skilled agent? Here are a few of the tips from Mischa’s novel:

Concealing documents and cash? Use a newspaper.

“They are easy to ditch, and you can carry one under your arm even as your bags are being searched.”

Know your cover.

“If you can believe just a bit of your cover story then you can convince your listener (and even yourself) that it is all true.”

Incriminating evidence to ditch? Use the restroom.

“It is easier to flush soaked paper than dry.”

Disguise yourself.

“Hospitals have no security to speak of. You can wander almost anywhere unchallenged, particularly if you don a white coat – best acquired from the doctors’ lounge in the A&E department. Or go dressed in a suit carrying a briefcase and pretend you are a drugs salesman.”

Watch your back.

“You should always sit at the back of the bus when you get on, because surveillance like to sit at the back to get a good view of you embarking without having to turn around.”

Beware the honeytrap.

“It is easier to believe that a woman finds you irresistible than that she is trying to ensnare you.”

Tired of looking over your shoulder?

“Take a few days off, go to the cinema, sit in the park, stay at home and read a book….Make them bored. A bored surveillance team is a careless one.”

Blend in.

“Be gray, not colorful, my trainers in Moscow had said. I always matched my shoes to my clothes. I’d heard that immigration officers checked for illegal immigrants by looking at their shoes.”

Finish the job.

“To kill someone you need to shoot them at least four or five times in the head, just to make sure. And it needs to be up close with a hand-held weapon. You have to put it right up against the head or very close to it, otherwise you could miss; some weapons give a massive kick, and any shot following the first could go wild. If you can’t get close enough to kill the target with your first shot, then you will need to incapacitate them with a body shot first and finish the deed close up, a coup de grâce.”

Mischa Hiller is a winner of the Commonwealth Writers’ Prize in the Best First Book category for South Asia and Europe. Raised in London, Beirut, and Dar El Salaam, he lives in Cambridge, England. Visit him at www.mischahiller.com.

SHAKE OFF, selected by Malcolm Gladwell in the New Yorker as one of the best books of 2012 (“Hiller’s novel has the benefit of mining every trope of the thriller genre while being absolutely original at the same time. I will read anything by Hiller from now on”), is now available in bookstores everywhere.

"The requirements of good horror are not different from the requirements of fiction in general. Fresh…"

Breed, Chase Novak, horror, writing tips Comments Off

Sep 042012

“The requirements of good horror are not different from the requirements of fiction in general. Fresh language, believable characters, and a story that operates on more than one level –a story that has a meaning outside of and beyond the mechanics of the plot.”

- BREED author Chase Novak, Tip 1 of “Five Tips for Horror Writers”. BREED hits bookstores today

Writing To Sell

Robert W. Fisher, Writing, writing books, writing tips 4 Responses »

Jun 162012

I knew I wanted to be a writer in the 4th grade.

My first story (somehow never published) was the 15-page Curse Of The Mummy’s Belly Button. It was a hit with a few of my elementary school classmates in the suburbs of Detroit but no one else. I still take it out and read it every now and then. It’s still terrible. From there, I spent many years punching out short stories and reading books on writing.

And on writers.

My favorites concerned near-crazy characters of spectacular talent who somehow managed to get through life without working; they were paid princely sums for merely pouring out stories in their spare time. My all-time favorite was about the brilliant Terry Southern, who received a $20,000 advance from a book publisher, reportedly locked himself into a plush New York hotel suite for three months with multiple drugs, multiple hookers and many cases of booze, and emerged at the end of the 90 days without a single word written.

Inspirational? Maybe not.

In any case, when I first moved to Hollywood in the late 1970’s, I became aware of a book on writing that was more myth than reality: Writing To Sell, by Scott Meredith. I say ‘myth’ because (although it was considered by many to be the book on writing publishable fiction) it was virtually impossible to find. Written in 1950 by the great agent himself, it went in and out of print on a regular basis and at that time was not available in any bookstore I could find. It had last been published in 1967.

And, of course, the Internet (and Amazon and Google.com) didn’t yet exist.

The book itself is a masterpiece of simple clarity, a step-by-step guide that surpassed (then and now) any book on writing (and the selling of same). It is, to this day, still revered as the book to get your hands on if you only have time to read one book on turning out salable prose.

A quick trip down the street to the Hollywood Public Library gave me some interesting information, mainly from the research librarian herself. She informed me that her husband had been a literary agent in New York for Scott Meredith and it was common knowledge in that office that the sci-fi genius James Blish had contributed greatly to the book. I didn’t find that surprising, although I’ve found no evidence of it anywhere since.

She checked the card file, then pointed me down the aisle. I could not find it. She walked down to assist me. Surprisingly, and even though it hadn’t been checked out, the book was gone. Stolen, it turned out, by a clearly motivated but unscrupulous would-be writer.

I headed to the library in Glendale. And then to Pasadena. And finally to Encino. And discovered the same thing in every case – Writing To Sell had been stolen from every library. I next got out the phone book (those were the days) and called many local libraries. In each case, I was told the book was in. In each case, when asked to check, the librarian informed me the book was gone.

At that point, I knew I had to have it. Could that many struggling (and thieving) writers be wrong?

A last phone call to the Los Angeles Public Library in a gang-driven section of downtown was finally rewarded with a librarian telling me it was in. And that he had the book in his hand. I asked him to hold it, drove there, checked it out, and then stole it.

Actually, I told them I lost it and paid $16.99 for it. A few years later, a friend borrowed Writing To Sell from me and then claimed he lost it. Right.

I knew he stole it.

First-page critique of ARTIC FIRE

critique, Joe Moore, Writing, writing advice, writing tips Comments Off

May 162012

By Joe Moore

Here’s another submission to our first-page critiquing extravaganza. It’s called ARCTIC FIRE. Have a look. My thoughts follow.

Ben was excited. It would be his first year as a full time counselor at scout camp, a hard to get position he’d dreamed of since first attending as a Tenderfoot four years earlier. His brother Ian, three years younger, was a First Class scout attending his second camp and seemed proud of his brother’s position. Ian would only be at Gorsuch for a week while Ben would be there for two months. Ben hoped to give his brother something to attain to.

Ben was an exemplary scout, a member of the Order of Arrow. At fifteen he was within six months of earning his Eagle Scout rank. Only ten percent of all scouts complete the demanding path to Eagle. It had been hard work and he was going to complete it a full eighteen months ahead of schedule.

After two sessions of the National Youth Leadership Training School at Camp Denali he knew how to lead boys. He was aware of not only how to teach them the skills every scout should know, but knew how to prepare for any emergency he could think of, how to keep them safe on campouts and hikes, how to perform advanced first aid and wilderness survival.

And to top it all off, maybe most important for many of the scouts in his charge, Ben Sanders knew how to tell stories. It was a skill he had learned from his father whose skill at filling the boys imaginations with visions of mountain trolls, sea spirits and brave warriors was amazing. The only props his father used for his tales were a ratty old gray wool blanket and his story stick.

The well-worn birch walking stick had been made about the time Ben was born. Carved images of bears, wolves and eagles decorated the shaft just below the handle, worn smooth and shiny by his father’s own grasp, the oil and sweat of his palm rubbing the white wood to a sheen as if it had been polished and rubbed with varnish. And now, his father was handing the stick to him.

I’m not going to get into any nitpicking here even though there are a couple of punctuation errors. Despite the fact that this is decent writing, the major problem is that nothing happens. It is 100% narrative backstory. After reading it, I have no idea what the story is about, what’s at stake, what the story question is, and why I would want to read page 2.

I’ve spoken many times on this blog about the pitfalls of starting a story in the wrong place. And I along with my blog mates have tried to emphasize that there’s really no need for backstory at the beginning. This first page contains important information, but we don’t need to know any of it yet.

My advice to the writer: find a point in the story where something happens that jolts Ben Sanders out of his “ordinary” life into an extraordinary situation because of physical, mental or emotional stress. Delete everything that’s written up to that point. That’s where the story should start.

Thanks to the author for submitting this first page and good luck.

Knocking You Out

Steve Weddle, writing tips Comments Off

May 092012

By Steve Weddle

I get up from the barstool and walk to the back of the room, past the mirror so that I can describe myself to you, the reader, in a completely natural manner that you totally fall for.

I rub my scalp the way one might palm a basketball, which is my way of telling you that I am bald because basketballs do not have hair. I like to think of my baldness as a choice. It would not be a lie to say that age had caused me to have less hair than I once had, but what of it? The parcel of scalp once reserved for hair had, years ago, given itself over to emptiness. If I were clever I would perhaps say something about my hair deserting me about the time my wife did and provide a little more depth to my character, which should interest you. Instead, I will probably make a joke to you about my hair deserting me, leaving a desert of skin on my head. As you can tell, I am not terribly clever. I could, I suppose, devote a few hours of the afternoon -- what might amount to a parenthetical for you, the reader -- to researching desert people. Bedouins or whatever they are so that I could layer my descriptions like a $100 haircut. But I cannot. I do not have that luxury. For this story, as you have noted, is told in the present tense. Were I in a position to know what will transpire, what will have transpired by the time you are reading this, will have read this, I could luxuriate in cleverness. But as it is, I can only pause here at the mirror for a moment, palm my head to show you that I am bald, and linger for a moment on my face. Let’s do the eyes first.

They’re a rather dullish brown. But I would like for them to be blue. So let’s pretend that they are blue. Also, let’s imagine that I have a scar above my eye. Don’t ask what it is from. I won’t reveal that until a hundred pages in, though I’ll drop hints about some sort of darkness in my past.

-------------

Did you make it this far? Did all the nonsense send you running?

I've been giving some thought to what pulls a reader out of a story. I think it might be different stuff for each of us.

I hate that "look at myself in a passing car window so I can describe myself to you, the reader" stuff. Some folks don't care. Some folks find other stuff pretentious. I don't mind pretentious writing, as long as it doesn't pull me out of the story.

The self-description stuff is tough, tough, tough to pull off. I'm not sure how you do it in first-person and make it seem real. Maybe you work it into the story so that it means something other than saying what color your hair is. I mean, I get that folks want the reader to have a picture of the character. I just don't know that it matters. Do I care that your main character is 5'10" instead of 6'? I dunno. Does it come up later? Is there A Clue that only a 6'5" person could reach? A half-eaten, top-shelf donut with teeth impressions?

I'm not a big fan of physical descriptions, I guess, unless it matters. So those, especially when they seem forced, pull me out of the story. Do I care that your character is bald? Are you trying to sell action figures? Do I care about your eye color? Should I?

A description of the character that first appears 100 pages after the character appears also bugs me. Um, he has three arms? No, he doesn't.

Forced description pulls me out.

Bogus historical details will kick my lovely bride out of a book. I'm not a fan of any old crap, so I don't have any examples here. But like some Victorian card game in a Regency-period novel. Or a "dance card" 100 years too early.

Poor proofreading will send us both to another book. Even the best books suffer from "it's/its" sometimes.

Awful figurative language. "The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant." or "She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up."

I'm talking about stories that I like, stories I want to read, not terrible stories I don't care about.

Don't knock me out of your story for something trivial. Please.

What pulls you folks out of stories?

First-page critique: Untitled

critique, Joe Moore, writing tips Comments Off

Apr 252012

By Joe Moore

Our annual first-page critique marathon continues with an anonymous submission that came in untitled. Take a look at it. My comments follow the text.

He stepped out from behind shadows cast by large oak trees, “Good evening.” Not a second passed before her smile faded. She obviously didn’t recognize him. A scream seemed to be stuck in her throat while she pulled her Publix grocery bag close to her body. She stepped away from him and when her elbow hit the wall of the house, two eggs fell out of a pink Styrofoam carton and onto the cement porch, orange yolk spraying against his polished shoes.

He felt his jaw tighten. “Open the door and don’t make a sound.” He kept both hands inside his coat pockets but gripped harder around the mallet in the palm of his right, in case she tried to run. First thing he should do is make her clean his god damned shoes.

She fumbled with the keys. She couldn’t be more than forty, but her hands shook like she was ninety years old. “I’m losing my patience with you,” he said. “Open the fucking door.” His voice sounded calmer than he felt. He wanted to crack her head open right there. Her skull would explode and her brains would splatter just like the egg yolk now drying on the tips of his loafers.

“Please. I have a brand new granddaughter I haven’t seen yet—” he shoved her inside when the key finally turned. She tripped on the corner of an area rug and the contents of her grocery bag spilled out across the hardwood floor. She crawled across the room and huddled against a wall. He shut the door and pulled down the shades.

The house brightened when he flipped on the light. It was tidy. Looked like something on the cover of Better Homes and Garden. In the center of the room, a rust colored sofa rested with a quilted afghan draped over the back. It was surrounded by dark cherry wood tables and a large grandfather clock encased in a solid oak frame.

Overall, this is not too bad, but it could be greatly improved. The setup has the same weakness as Monday’s submission—I felt like I’d seen the generic scene many times before, especially as an opening to so many TV dramas. The key to catching an agent or editor’s eye is originality—a new twist on a well-established theme. This is a basic setup but I don’t see anything new here. Not knowing anything else about the story, here are my line-by-line comments.

He stepped out from behind shadows cast by large oak trees, “Good evening.”

Ditch the comma and replace with a period after trees. Consider having him step out of or from the shadows rather than from behind them.

Not a second passed before her smile faded.

I would start a new paragraph with that line. And it reads a bit awkward to me. Under the circumstances, I’m not sure it’s even needed.

She obviously didn’t recognize him.

Does this signal to the reader that she should have recognized him? Perhaps she once knew him but he’s older or his appearance has been changed? Is he wearing a disguise? Or is his face otherwise well known or has it been on the news? Remember that the writer is laying the first groundwork here that has lasting impressions on the reader.

A scream seemed to be stuck in her throat while she pulled her Publix grocery bag close to her body. She stepped away from him and when her elbow hit the wall of the house, two eggs fell out of a pink Styrofoam carton and onto the cement porch, orange yolk spraying against his polished shoes.

I suppose that a Styrofoam container with a dozen eggs could be jarred open and have only two eggs fall out. Just being picky here, but I had to pause to picture if it were possible. Also, I assumed this is a big clue here: “polished shoes”. Does this signal that the aggressor is a well-dress villain or perhaps a neat freak?

He felt his jaw tighten. “Open the door and don’t make a sound.” He kept both hands inside his coat pockets but gripped harder around the mallet in the palm of his right, in case she tried to run. First thing he should do is make her clean his god damned shoes.

Here we go with the shoes again. And his weapon of choice is not a knife or gun but a mallet? That’s certainly different. Perhaps he just came from eating stone crabs.

She fumbled with the keys. She couldn’t be more than forty, but her hands shook like she was ninety years old.

I liked this imagery with the hands although saying he wasn’t sure of her age gives me the impression that she may have been picked at random.

“I’m losing my patience with you,” he said. “Open the fucking door.”

OK, it’s time for my speech. You can’t even begin to imagine how many potential readers you will turn off by using the f-bomb on the first page of your book. Using it proves nothing. My advice: just don’t do it. Oh, and you don’t need the “he said” here. It definitely wasn’t the victim speaking.

His voice sounded calmer than he felt. He wanted to crack her head open right there. Her skull would explode and her brains would splatter just like the egg yolk now drying on the tips of his loafers.

Boy, this guy is (1) ultra violent (2) really into his shoes.

“Please. I have a brand new granddaughter I haven’t seen yet—”

I felt like this was a strange way of saying this. It’s almost like saying, “I’ve got a brand new plasma TV I haven’t seen yet.” Rather than “brand new”, how about, “Please, I’ve got a family, a granddaughter . . .”

he shoved her inside when the key finally turned.

You mean when the key turned and the door opened. Also, it should be a capital H on he since it’s a new sentence.

She tripped on the corner of an area rug and the contents of her grocery bag spilled out across the hardwood floor. She crawled across the room and huddled against a wall. He shut the door and pulled down the shades.

The house brightened when he flipped on the light.

“Brightened” may not be the best word choice since it connotes cheerfulness.

It was tidy.

The house or the light?

Looked like something on the cover of Better Homes and Garden.

This is an incomplete sentence lacking a subject. But that’s OK if it’s a style thing the writer intends to continue throughout the story. Warning: incomplete sentences get old fast.

In the center of the room, a rust colored sofa rested with a quilted afghan draped over the back. It was surrounded by dark cherry wood tables and a large grandfather clock encased in a solid oak frame.

Very observant villain. Is this to help build his character?

----------

So here’s what I take away from this first page. We have a shoe-fetish, stone crab-eating assailant who is a possible interior decorator and who picks random, forty-something victims who buy physics-defying cartons of eggs. What a hoot it would be if I were right.

These are my personal first impressions of this sample. Other’s may disagree with me or have different reactions. I’ve been hard on this writer, more so than normal even though this is a somewhat awkward but decent first draft. All first drafts need work. And I would keep reading at least for a few more pages to see what happens.

But my comments were also meant to emphasize that EVERY WORD COUNTS. Each word is like a brick laid in place to form the strong walls of the story. Choose them wisely.

If my facetious interpretation of this first page is correct, then it’s excellent storytelling. If not, I suggest the writer go back and rework it until every word builds on top of the previous one to form a solid image in the mind of the reader. Thanks for submitting it and good luck.

How about the rest of you innocent bystanders? Would you keep reading or go out for stone crabs?

Tricks to Creating a Page-Turner

Joe Moore, Writing, writing advice, writing books, writing craft, writing exercise, writing process, writing suspense, writing techniques, writing the thriller, writing tips Comments Off

Apr 042012

By Joe Moore

If you write mysteries or thrillers (or any genre, for that matter), there’s nothing more rewarding than to have someone say your book is a real “page-turner”—that they couldn’t put it down. And there’s nothing more fulfilling for a reader than to find a book so captivating that they can’t stop reading. Naturally, the writer has to develop a compelling story populated with three-dimensional characters and enough conflict and tension to keep a reader’s interest. Those things are givens, and it’s the writer’s job to craft those elements into the manuscript.

But did you know that there are some simple formatting tricks that anyone can do to improve the readability of a manuscript and keep the reader turning pages. And what’s really cool is that you don’t have to change your story at all to benefit from them. Not a word.

Trick #1. Write short chapters.

Whenever a reader gets to the end of a chapter, they must make a decision to read the next chapter or put the book down and go do something else. It’s a natural stopping point or a launching point to the next part of the story. If it’s late in the evening, many times that decision involves continuing to read or going to bed. What you don’t want them to do is put down the book. When a reader finishes a chapter and comes to that late night decision to stop or read on, they usually check to see if the next chapter is short or long. If it’s only a few pages, there’s a really good chance they will read one more chapter. If they get to the end of that next short chapter and repeat the checking process again, they won’t go to bed. They’ll keep reading. And you will have setup a format that they’ll come to expect and rely on.

This tip does not mean that every chapter must be short. What I’m suggesting is to examine each chapter and see if you can split it into two. Or even three. After all, the same information is going to be imparted. It’s just going to happen in multiple segments.

There’s always going to be a need for longer chapters. Just ask yourself if that 6k-word chapter you just finished writing could be broken into multiple chunks. Remember that you want to entice the reader to keep reading.

Now I know that some writers will react by saying, “Well, my chapters end when they end. Short, long or in between, I write until the chapter naturally ends itself.” Fine. Do whatever you’ve got to do to write a great story. This trick may not be something that fits your writing style. But from a physical standpoint, readers tend to keep reading if they feel the next chapter will take just a few minutes to finish.

From a personal perspective, my co-writer and I try to bring our chapters in at around 1000 words. I know, some of you will think that’s way too short. But one of the most frequent comments we get from our fans is that in addition to enjoying the story, the short chapters kept them up late. We’ve had more than a few readers blame us for them not getting enough sleep because they decided to read “just one more chapter”.

Trick #2. Write (or format) short paragraphs and sentences.

This trick is closely related to trick #1, but it involves the visual experience of your book for the reader. It also involves setting up a distinctive and comfortable rhythm and tempo to your writing.

As you read, your eyes not only move along the sentence but your peripheral vision picks up the “weight” of the next sentence and paragraph. You’re reading a single sentence, but you visually take in the whole page. As your mind plays out the story from one word to the next, it also calculates what is coming up next, and causes you to be subtly energized or marginally fatigued. It’s like driving across the desert—if the road stretches in an endless ribbon to the horizon, you become tired just knowing you have a long way to go to get to the next break, or in the case of the book, the end of the sentence or paragraph. But if the road is only a city block or two long before you start down the next stretch of highway, you feel less overwhelmed by its mass (paragraph) or length (sentence). Shorter paragraphs and sentences keep the eye from getting fatigued. They allow the reader take a mental “breather” more frequently thus keeping their attention longer. And it’s also a tool for controlling reading speed.

Shorter sentences move the story along at a faster rhythm and tempo because the eyes moves quicker and your peripheral vision sees less bulk and weight on the printed page ahead.

Trick #3. Eliminate dialog tags whenever possible.

If there are only two characters in a scene, eliminate as many dialog tags as you can without confusing the reader. The dialog itself should help to identify the character as should their actions. Even with more than two characters present, staging can help to reduce dialog tags. Staging and actions also help to build characters. Dialog tags don’t. If the reader knows who is speaking because of their actions, the number of tags can often be reduced or even eliminated.

Trick #4. Title your chapters.

Your book has a title for a reason. It sets the mood or intrigue of the whole story. Consider titling your chapters for the same reason. Like the book title, a chapter title is a teaser. When a reader ends a chapter and turns the page, nothing is more boring than to be greeted with the totally original title: Chapter 23. Or worse, just 23. Why not give the reader a hint of what’s to come with a short title. Don’t give anything away, just use the chapter title as an enticement—a promise of things to be delivered or revealed. Use it to set the stage or create a mood just like the book title. I believe that each chapter should be considered a mini book. Chapters should have beginnings, middles and endings. And one way to tempt the reader to keep reading is with a compelling title.

Tricks like these are never to be considered a substitute for solid, clean, professional writing. They are only tricks. But they work if used in the mix with all the other elements of a great story. And the only way for you to know for sure is to give them a try.

Beyond these formatting tricks, does anyone recommend others that can enhance the reader’s experience?

Writing under a pseudonym

Joe Moore, pen names, pseudonyms, writer tips, writers, Writing, writing tips Comments Off

Mar 212012

by Joe Moore

A couple of weeks ago, my Kill Zone blog mate, Kathleen Pickering, posted her thoughts on Brand Marketing. In it she discussed among other things using a pseudonym or pen name in relation to building a writer’s brand. One of the reasons Kathy gave for creating an alter ego and using a pen name is liability. Today I want to expand on other reasons for writing under a pseudonym.

Lets start by dropping some names. Ever heard of Samuel Langhorne Clemens, Alisa Zinov’yevna Rosenbaum, Harry Patterson, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, Eric Arthur Blair, David John Moore Cornwell, and Jim Czajkowski? Chances are you have. They’re all world famous writers. But you probably know them by their pen names because they all write under pseudonyms.

Why would a successful author (or any novelist) write under a pseudonym? And should you consider using one?

By definition, a pen name is a pseudonym used in place of the real author’s name. Here are some reasons to use one.

Pro. Let’s say you’re a well-established writer who wants to change genres. You normally write young adult science fiction but now you want to write cozy adult mysteries. Admittedly, the audience is different and your SF fans might not follow you. Plus, your potential cozy audience might not accept you if they’re aware of your previous work. So changing genre can be a good reason to use a pen name. Also, abandoning a failed book series or moving to a new publisher might be a reason to take on a new identity and start over.

Pro. Your real name doesn’t market well to your genre. The action/adventure novel TANK COMMANDER FROM HELL by Mandrake Slaughter would probably attract more fans of that genre than TANK COMMANDER FROM HELL by Percival Glockenspiel. And Mandrake Slaughter is easier to pronounce.

Pro. For whatever reason, you need your identity to remain anonymous and protected. Let’s say you’re a high-ranking government official who decides to write a thriller that comes uncomfortably close to reality. To reveal your true identity would create a totally different spin on your book, one you might want to avoid.

Pro. Your name is too long or it’s hard to pronounce. In the case of James Rollins, his real name is Jim Czajkowski. A wonderful name, but not easy on the eyes. BTW, Jim also writes fantasy novels under the name James Clemens. Also keep in mind that the shorter the name, the larger it can appear on the cover. Just ask Brad Thor.

Pro. Your real name just happens to be Ernest Hemingway or F. Scott Fitzgerald or Dan Brown. Start thinking about a pen name.

Pro. Sex. By that I mean that you’re the wrong gender. You want to write romance and you’re a guy. Plus, your real name is Mandrake Slaughter. Or your main character is a black female and you’re a white male with an unmistakable WASP name. The marketing starts when the reader first sees the title followed by your name. It has to make sense to them that you’re qualified to write the book.

Pro. There are two of you. Sometimes keeping the real names of writing teams works such as Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. In their case, both authors write individually under their real names, too. Other times, choosing a single pen name makes more sense.

Now for a big reason to not use a pen name: It will always come out at some point that it’s not your real name, either in a book review, or at a writer’s conference, or during an interview, or in your Wikipedia bio; the truth will be revealed that your real name is Percival Glockenspiel. But if you don’t mind the inevitable, then go for it. The best advice is to discuss it with your agent and editor. Weigh all the marketing pros and cons. It works well for some, but not for all. Have a really compelling reason before you make the commitment and it gets embossed in gold on your book cover.

So, did you know the real names of the authors mentioned at the start of this blog? Here they are:

Samuel Langhorne Clemens is Mark Twain

Alisa Zinov’yevna Rosenbaum is Ayn Rand

Harry Patterson is Jack Higgins

Charles Lutwidge Dodgson is Lewis Carroll

Eric Arthur Blair is George Orwell

David John Moore Cornwell is John le Carre

Jim Czajkowski is James Rollins

Do you writer under a pen name? Have you ever considered it?

The Author’s Bucket List on Plot Structure

3-acts, fiction writing, Jordan Dane, Michael Hauge, plot structure, Screenplay Structure, Storyboard, writing tips Comments Off

Mar 012012

By Jordan Dane

I’ve never been a plotter. I’m too impatient. Once I get the general idea of a story with a compelling conflict and a notion of my cast of players, I can’t wait to “discover” the story as I write. It plays out in my head like a movie, but I’m constantly exploring new ways to get organized so my daily word count goals can be achieved without roadblocks.

Today on TKZ, I submit my latest thoughts on the 3-Act Structure and the Storyboard method of plotting. These are purely my thoughts on combining these concepts as they might apply to my writing, but maybe you’ll see elements you like in this for you.

I used to think of the 3-Act Structure as beginning, middle, and end, but I’ve read it more accurately reflected as Establish, Build, & Resolve by Michael Hauge in his book “Writing Screenplays that Sell.” Thinking of these acts in this manner denotes movement. So imagine these three segments as buckets, but before I can toss wads of paper (or scenes) into these buckets, I must have a place to start. Set aside your buckets for now and grab a paper and pen—or Sticky Notes, colors optional.

Presuming I have a general notion of my book, I would create a list of 20-25 things I know about the action in my book in terms of what I call “big ticket” plot movements. No backstory. What will go on my list will be scenes that I envision as key elements to my story. They won’t be put into any order. I merely list them as they occur to me. I would brainstorm without censoring my thoughts. I heard an author talk about creating notes on 3-M sticky notes, rather than a random list, but you get the idea. I don’t expect to know every scene in my book at this stage. The storyboard I create will be an evolving beast that I will change as I write, edit, and final my book so I can see my plot at a glance.

Now let’s talk about the 3-Act Structure in terms of a BIG “W.”

ACT I – Establish - The start of Act I (or the top left of my “W”) is the Triggering Event. It’s the inciting incident that will start my story, the point at which my main character’s life changes forever. As I travel down the left side of my “W,” I head for the 1st Turning Point that usually sets up the problem or the first low point or perhaps a moment of hope. This is a reversal point that changes the direction of my plot as I head out of Act 1. I’ve “Established” my world up to this point and the general conflicts and players in the first 25% of my book, in theory.

ACT II – Build - As my plot heads toward the upward middle of my “W,” that is another key reversal. If I have a book with hope in my first turning point, this shift might dash those hopes to some degree. If I have a dark moment in that first turning point, things get worse, but the plot takes another key turn one way or the other as the action “Builds.” Act II ends with the next turning point (the 2nd low point of my “W”). This is the black moment where all seems lost. This part of the “W” represents the middle part of the turning point structure or 50% of my story, the “building” middle.

ACT III – Resolve – Now I would be in Act III, the last upward line of the “W” after the black moment. I’m headed toward resolution. In this section, my hero or heroine might discover something about the villain in the story that is his or her weakness. He or she implements a plan to take advantage of this Achilles Heel, but I might consider throwing in another epiphany or twist before the end. This could be a twist or complication—an “Oh my, God” moment the reader might not see coming before the world is restored or the ending happens. This last part of the structure is the final 25%.

I’ve oversimplified these blended theories for the sake of this post. The lines of the “W” don’t have to be linear, for example. I could have little ups and downs along the way that will take me through my book, but I wanted you to have a general idea of how this could work.

Now get ready with your buckets. Each of these acts is a bucket, for the purposes of this explanation. So the list I created at the beginning—the 20-25 brainstormed scenes—each has a place in an Act Bucket. I would add to these 25 things as I get more familiar with my book, but if I were to Storyboard this out, I would create 20 squares that represent chapters in my books. (You might write differently, so make this work for you with your average number of chapters in a single-title book.) I would write my 25 items down with each one going on a 3-M Sticky Note and place them on my storyboard where I think they will go in Act I (25%), II (50%), or III (25%). Since each of these scene ideas is moveable, I can change the order and chapter they might appear to get the pace and building intensity up. Once I see things on my storyboard in a visual manner, I will no doubt want to add more Sticky Note scenes to fill out the detail and transitions in my story as the plot develops.

I generally have 4-5 scenes in a chapter. So as my story plot movement gets established and building toward a resolution, I perhaps can add colored notes to signify POV switches or character story arcs or relationship arcs to deepen my story understanding. I thought this process might fit my “pantser” approach to structure with a simple method that I can see visually as I write and evolve the story. Writing software seemed too complicated to learn with my writing schedule, but I’d love to hear of a simple brainstorming plot method or storyboard concept if you have one.

What works for you?

The Pancake Rule

Joe Moore, writer tips, writers, writers craft, Writing, writing advice, writing books, writing challenges, writing craft, writing lessons, Writing the Novel, writing tips Comments Off

Feb 222012

By Joe Moore

You finished writing your first book. Congratulations. The good news is, you’ve accomplished something that only a small percentage of the population ever will. Most just dream about it. Few really do it.

Now for the bad news: Your first book is not publishable.

What? Joe, are you crazy? Everyone says my book is great. My mom loves it. My neighbors and the girl that cuts my hair said it was a potential bestseller—as good as King and Patterson. I’ve even been told by my uncle who watches lots of movies that it would make a blockbuster feature film. JJ Abrams would snap it up in a heartbeat. So how can you say that about a book you haven’t even read?

The reason I can say it with confidence is that I’ve found first novels to all be the same—not in subject matter but in common, predictable flaws. And if by some miraculous stroke of luck the literary gods smiled down and your first book is publishable as written, then I would suggest you run to the nearest convenience store and buy a lottery ticket. There’s a good chance you’re on a roll.

I’ve made a list of the most common flaws of first novels. Keep in mind that having one or even a couple of these present in your book will not render the manuscript DOA. But I guarantee you’ll find all of them in the typical first attempt at writing a novel. Here they are in no particular order of importance.

You often use adverbs at the end of dialog tags to “tell” the reader what emotion the character feels. Example: “I’m mad as hell,” he said angrily. “I love you,” she said adoringly.

You rarely utilize any of the 5 senses to draw the reader into the scene.

You resolve conflict with coincidence or luck.

Your manuscript is filled with back-stories that don’t relate to the plot or develop the characters.

You head-hop within a scene between multiple POVs.

You tell the story rather than show it.

You have a “unique” approach to the use of the English language and the mechanics and structure of writing in it. Note: I mean this in a bad way.

Each page is filled with an abundance of adjectives that if deleted would not change anything other than make the writing cleaner.

You recently discovered the exclamation point and want your readers to share in your excitement.

You love ellipses . . .

You have a pet word or phrase that you feel compelled to repeat often in hopes that it will become a favorite of your reader.

You beat your readers over the head with repeated facts just in case they didn’t get it the first dozen times.

Your text is riddled with more clichés than you could shake a stick at.

You use profanity for no other reason than shock.

Your dialog sounds as natural as a first grade primer.

Your characters continually use the name of the person to whom they’re speaking.

You overuse flashbacks and/or start the story with one.

Act II sags like a piece of pulled taffy.

Your story wanders.

Your story starts in the wrong place.

You’re not sure how to create suspense, so you commit “author intrusion” even though you have no idea what the term means.

You confuse the reader.

Your facts are incorrect. Example: The assassin attached the silencer to the revolver so no one would hear the shots.

You slip from past tense to present in narration.

You describe every movement, every second, every detail and every breath of your characters actions for no apparent reason.

You don’t know when to end a scene.

Your plot is a rehash of The Perils of Pauline—your protagonist jumps from one terrible situation to the next equally terrible situation with no dynamics or variation in terribleness.

You either have no subplots or enough for 10 books.

All your characters sound the same when they speak.

Your characters have no flaws.

You rely on stereotypes. The men are all handsome with chiseled faces and athletic bodies. The women are beautiful fashion models. And the bad guys are ugly, disgusting monsters. Note: This is OK if your antagonist is actually an ugly, disgusting monster.

Your story is melodramatic.

Your target audience doesn’t exist.

You manuscript is infested with misspellings, the wrong use of words, grammatical errors, and missing or incorrect punctuation.

You believe that placing the word “very” or “really” in front of an adjective increases the descriptive value of the adjective.

And the one that I see most often: You find it impossible to tell someone what your book is about without rambling on for 10 minutes.

Everyone’s first book contains just about all of the above. Mine did, and I’ll bet yours did, too. But that’s OK. That’s part of the learning process on the road to becoming a published novelist. Every professional was first an amateur. Every bestselling author wrote a first novel that should never see the light of day. Chances are, it was just as full of these flaws as yours and mine.

The secret to this whole novel-writing thing is to keep writing. Few first novels are accepted by an agent much less bought by a publisher. Published first novels are the exception to the rule. For the rest, you’ve got to write that second book. And the third. And the fourth. That’s how you refine the craft. And with each manuscript, you learn to use less clichés, eliminate “very” from your vocabulary, delete needless “ly” words, make your characters more human, find your voice, and all the other thousands of parts to crafting a well-written story.

My mother used to say that when making pancakes, always throw the first one out. That’s because it takes cooking one to make sure the temperature of the griddle is properly set, the thickness and consistency of the batter is just right, and the timing of when to flip the cake is confirmed.

This pancake rule should apply to all first novels. Write it. Learn from it. Make the adjustments. Put it away. And cook some more pancakes.

How many of the flaws-list items did your first book contain? How many books did you write before you got published? Are there any other additions to the list that you’ve seen with first-time writers?

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