The Other Side of the Story

Even Alpha Writers Need Beta Readers

2013-05-22T07:27:00.000-04:00

By Tiffany Reisz, @tiffanyreisz

Let’s talk betas! Not the fishies, the people! First of all, what is a beta? You often hear the term in reference to software programs or video games. Beta testers are customers or users a company chooses to try out their new product before it’s ready for the market. The everyday user might find bugs and quirks that the software engineer who designed the game or product missed. A product in “beta” is an almost finished product not ready for market yet.

For writers, betas are our first readers of our new books. Many published writers, even bestselling and award-winning authors, have either a critique partner or a set of beta readers who read their books prior to publication. Not every writer uses betas, however. And usually you can tell who those writers are when you read their books.

Why should you use beta readers?

’Twas a bestselling book by a bestselling author from a major publisher. I picked it up because I heard that it was full of naughtiness. Alas, it was also flush with errors. The lead female character’s name was even misspelled at one point in the book. One extra set of eyes before that manuscript went to the publisher could have caught that glaring error. This Alpha Author needed a Beta Reader (or two or three) big time.

My own beta readers have caught the following errors in my books.

continuity errors (he’s driving a Jaguar in one scene and in a Ferrari the next scene)
incorrect words (I used “riff” when I meant “rift,” an error spellcheck missed)
factual errors (soil in New Hampshire is marshy, not dry)
character issues (she says she won’t do something in the first chapter, by the third chapter she’s doing it without any explanation why)
bad writing (seriously, Tiffany, if you leave that paragraph in, I’ll come to your house and punch you in the nose but knowing you, you’ll like it)

Do you want a book full of continuity errors, incorrect words that are spelled correctly but are in fact, incorrect, factual errors, characters whose behavior doesn’t make sense, and bad writing? Then don’t use beta readers.

If you’d rather have a book free of those sorts of errors, then get eyes on your pages before sending your manuscript off to your likely overworked editor. Your editor is one set of eyes. Your copyeditor is another. Your proofreader is another. That’s not enough to catch every error in your novel.

How do you find beta readers?

They’re all around you. I’ve found beta readers at my public library writing group, at writers conferences, through social media (including a fan forum for my favorite actor Jason Isaacs). If you present your work to a group of other writers, pay attention to their feedback. The writers who tell you what you did wrong will make better beta readers than someone who gives you nothing but compliments.

I have one strict rule for beta readers--they have to be writers. Why writers and not fans? Fans beg to read my books pre-publication after all. I tell them no every time. Fans read for pleasure, and they deserve a finished, polished draft, not a confused muddle of a work-in-progress. Also fans read with love and have trouble telling one of their favorite authors they’ve made a mistake. I did a test once where I let five random people beta read a short story. The five volunteers included two fans of mine, two professional writers, and one professional editor for an indie press. The two fans returned the short story with nothing but punctuation errors marked. The two professional writers gave me great constructive criticism. The professional editor gave me pages of notes. Fans make bad critics. That’s why I love them as fans (seriously, I love my damn fans *sniffs*) and never use them as betas.

Who are my betas?

I have five and each of them has their own speciality.

My literary fiction writing friend Robin is my first beta reader when the book is finished. Why is she first? Her speciality is macro edits. She tells me if whole chapters or scenes have to die, if certain plot points need moved in the book. In other words, Robin helps me build the house while my other betas help me paint and decorate it.

My boyfriend, author Andrew Shaffer, is like a heatseeking missile that targets anything superfluous. If a scene goes on too long, if a paragraph doesn’t move the story forward, he’ll demand that I either justify its existence or cut it. Almost always I cut it.

My erotic romance writer friend Karen Stivali acts as a psychologist to my characters. If any of my characters does anything out of character, she susses it out and I fix it.

Kinky writer Miranda Baker keeps my writing honest. If anything feels forced or awkward, she points it out, tells me I’m doing it wrong, and makes me make it better.

Friend and freelance editor Alyssa Linn Palmer (also a published author) has a copyeditor’s eye for detail. She usually gets the book last after the other beta readers have gone through it. Wrong words, grammar errors, odd punctuation are her areas of expertise.

The feedback from those five readers burns the chaff out of my books leaving only the wheat behind.

I don’t have a quid pro quo relationship with my beta readers. If they need or want me to beta their books, I do so happily, but I neither pay or barter with them. I say this because many writers are worried about having to pay their beta readers. I’ve never paid a penny to any of them although they do get thanked in book acknowledgements and with signed copies of the finished products.

How do you best work with a beta reader?

When working with a beta reader, make sure you let him or her know what your concerns are. That way the beta will be more likely to catch those sorts of errors. Do you have a bad habit of being too wordy? Ask your beta to keep an eye out for scenes or paragraphs that can be cut. Was your last book criticized for being too slow-paced? Tell your readers you want to cut the crap in your book and get the plot running like Orb on Kentucky Derby Day.

Give your beta readers permission to criticize you. No one likes criticism, but you can’t let your feelings interfere with getting the best book possible out to your readers. I had one beta reader tell me that if I didn’t cut out a scene he deemed stupid and cheesy, he would fictionalize himself, enter my book, and murder my characters. I took the cheesy scene out. He’d been absolutely correct. I adored him for being so passionate and honest about my book. I’d let him beta read for me again in a heartbeat.

Your book will eventually stand on the world’s stage--Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, etc. Everyone everywhere will be able to read it, review it, and criticize it. Giving your books to beta readers gives you the writer a chance to save yourself a lot of heartache by fixing your book’s issues before publication rather than kicking yourself when every other blogger/reviewer points out glaring errors in your book after it’s published.

One final word on beta readers--sometimes they will disagree with each other and you will disagree with them. One beta reader might love a certain scene. Another beta reader doesn’t see the point of if. You know your characters and your story better than anyone. Trust your gut. It’s okay to stand your ground. It’s your book, not theirs. I have a sex scene in THE ANGEL book two in my Original Sinners series that involves a couple engaging in erotic cutting or blood-play. One beta reader told me that not only would my publisher not allow the scene in the book, my readers would freak out. I know my characters, however. I knew this scene was true to who they are so I kept the scene in. Yes, a few readers freaked out but I’ve lost count of how many readers told me it’s not only their favorite love scene in my series, but their favorite love scene in any book ever.

Whether or not you take it, always listen to criticism, carefully consider it, and sleep on it. That scene you’re married to on Monday might be your worst enemy on Friday. My books easily go through twelve drafts. Cutting, changing, editing, revising, and rewriting rewriting rewriting a book isn’t a sign you did something wrong with your book. It’s proof you’re doing something right.

Who shouldn’t be a beta reader?

Betta fish may be cute but they make bad beta readers.

Tiffany Reisz lives in Lexington, Kentucky. She is the award-winning and international bestselling author of The Original Sinners series from Mira Books. When not writing or tweeting @tiffanyreisz, you can find her trying to teach a betta fish how to be a beta reader. So far, it’s not really working out.

World Building Tips Learned at the Louvre

2013-05-20T08:13:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

The hubby and I recently returned from a (long overdue) vacation in Paris. Aside from being totally awesome, our trip to the Louvre Museum was also interesting from a writing perspective, especially for this fantasy world-building gal. Seeing artifacts from cultures thousands of years old is inspiring.

You'd think staring at one old pot after another would get old, but it was fascinating. One region used red clay, another white. One painted on the outside of the bowl, another on the inside. Some vases were tall and thin, others were wide and flat. Some even used animal shapes, like a chicken pitcher.

Me being me couldn't help but see a correlation to how to build a fantasy world.

What all of these artifacts had in common was that they were all crafted from what the cultures had nearby. Different soils, clays, flowers and minerals to make pigments, all of these things were specific and even unique to the region. That gave their art and artifacts their own flavor.

Things to Consider When Building Your World

Color Use
Color can have a practical, aesthetic, or spiritual reason. Just like purple was used for royalty due to the rarity of the dye, another color might be scarce in your world and have particular uses and meanings behind those uses. For example, in my current WIP, color denotes status and is used as a identifier.

What does color mean to your characters?
Is there a forbidden color?
Are some colors harder to come by?
Does color affect or influence any social customs?
Is there a theme with your colors?

(More on themes and world building here)

Material Use
Different colored stones occur in different regions, or wood from the trees, or even metals mined from the ground. Coastal dwellers might use mud bricks but those who live in heavy forest areas build with wood. A desert culture probably isn't building with wood and stone, and anyone who does is likely to be wealthy or powerful enough to import them in. What materials the population has on hand goes a long way to how they create their cities and the things in those cities.

What building materials are nearby?
What's imported? Exported?
What are common household items made from?
What are luxury items made from?
What are considered luxury items?

(More on setting and world building here)

Views on Art
Different cultures have different views on what art is. Some consider any images of the human form to be taboo, why others build statues in a great leader's likeness. How your people create and view art says a lot about their culture and beliefs.

What is the purpose of art in this culture?
Who are the artists?
What status do they hold?
How prevalent is art?
What's taboo? Common? Avant garde?
What form does art take? (statues, painting, beads, jewelry?)
What art is valuable vs low-class "peoples art?"

(More on world building and details here)

Decoration Uses
Just like art, how a culture decorates shows their personality. Clean lines and uncluttered gardens speak of a different kind of person than a wild garden with soft, curving paths. The character who wears all black is different from the one who dresses in bright patterns and colors. Furniture meant to stimulate the senses says things functional furniture does not.

How do your characters decorate?
What is decoration limited to?
What is considered good taste?
What is considered tacky?
What is the differences between high class and low class decorations?
What are the differences between gender styles?
How prevalent is the decoration?

(More on building a fictional town here)

Details can carry a lot of weight and subconsciously clue the reader in on the subtleties of your world. They can explain elements of your world without you ever having to stop and infodump, which allows you to flesh out a world that feels rich and immersive, and still gives the reader everything they need to understand it.

Next time you're building a world--even if it's not fantasy--think about the things your characters find beautiful and how they make and show that beauty.

Real Life Diagnostics: Internal Dialog and Pacing: How Much is Too Much?

2013-05-18T09:03:00.000-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Eight

This week’s questions:

1. I want to use internal dialogue to heighten the urgency and provide insight, but does it hinder the pace too much?

2. I don’t want to add a pile of ‘he thought’ into the mix, so I chose italics without the single quote mark. Is this appropriate or is there a better styling method?

3. Did it hook you for a story opener?

Market/Genre: Regency Romance

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

“Alt! Voi piccoli demoni!”

The colorful invective reverberated across St. James Park and destroyed Anthony’s first peaceful moment in a fortnight. He couldn’t translate the diatribe, but concluded that heaven had crowned the foreigner ‘the bravest of idiots.’ What lunacy possessed the female shouting the firestorm? Didn’t she realize she stampeded towards her grisly demise?

While his brain cataloged the rest of the scene, his feet already had begun thumping down the path. He counted six street-hardened boys, kicking a lumpy burlap sack. Were they armed? He patted his pockets and tallied a couple farthings for his arsenal. Need a weapon. Perhaps a stick. What the…?

With equal folly, the chit hitched her dress for the entire world to gawk at her full-length boots. He would have tossed his sister over his knee if Pip displayed such indecency. Nevertheless, the protestor’s speed impressed him. He ventured that she could best an alarmed rabbit back to its hole. No time. Blast her. He dismissed the notion to pause and scavenge for a makeshift cudgel. If he slowed, she might die. Oh, Lord. No.

He lifted his pace to an Olympian’s dash. No dying. Not on his watch. He should throttle her. Yes! Shake the naivety right out of her skull. Despite the sunny morning, the frosty March air burned his lungs. Just another five seconds should do it. For the first time in his life, he prayed for angels to trip a woman, smearing her face through the mud.

Thunderings.

Ten steps too late. The goosecap-girl had barged headlong into the pack.

Failure. No. Not again.

My Thoughts in Purple:

“Alt! Voi piccoli demoni!”

The colorful invective reverberated across St. James Park and destroyed Anthony’s first peaceful moment in a fortnight. He couldn’t translate the diatribe, but concluded that heaven had crowned the foreigner ‘the bravest of idiots.’ [What lunacy possessed the female shouting the firestorm? Didn’t she realize she stampeded towards her grisly demise? ] The thought feels disconnected from the text. It mentions a running woman, but there's nothing that clearly shows that.

While his brain cataloged the rest of the scene, his feet already had begun thumping down the path. He counted six street-hardened boys, kicking a lumpy burlap sack. [Were they armed?] Since the POV is more omniscient, the thoughts aren't flowing as well in italics. He patted his pockets and tallied a couple farthings for his arsenal.[ Need a weapon. Perhaps a stick. What the…?] Same here. Part of the reason I think, is that the text feels formal and the internal dialog feels casual. I'm also not sure what's going on.

[With equal folly, the chit hitched her dress] It's a little unclear what's going on in this scene. Equal folly to what? Who's the girl? for the entire world to gawk at her full-length boots. [He would have tossed his sister over his knee if Pip displayed such indecency.] This is a good example of internalization in the text. This feels like his thought but no need for italics. Nevertheless, [the protestor’s] I don't know who this is speed impressed him. He ventured that she could best an alarmed rabbit back to its hole. [No time. Blast her.] for what? Though this feels more natural as an italic thought, because of the emphasis. [He dismissed the notion to pause and scavenge for a makeshift cudgel. If he slowed, she might die. Oh, Lord. No. ] The thought doesn't mesh with the matter-of-fact way her explains the situation. It's also telling a bit.

He lifted his pace to an Olympian’s dash. [No dying. Not on his watch.] Feels anachronistic, and a bit stuck in [He should throttle her. Yes! Shake the naivety right out of her skull.] This feels like a good thought for the situation and reads naturally Despite the sunny morning, the frosty March air burned his lungs. [Just another five seconds should do it.] Feels stuck in For the first time in his life, he prayed for angels to trip a woman, smearing her face through the mud.

[Thunderings. ] I don't understand this thought.

Ten steps too late. The goosecap-girl had barged headlong into the pack.

[Failure. No. Not again.] The "failure" doesn't seem to fit. I can see thinking no, not again though.

The questions:

1. I want to use internal dialogue to heighten the urgency and provide insight, but does it hinder the pace too much?
The italics aren't working for me for several reasons. Most of them are more internalization than internal dialog (a subtle difference, but important) so italics make them stand out more than they should and not flow well with the narrative. They also feel more casual and modern vs the rest of the more formal omniscient text.

They also obscure more than provide insight, because there's not enough to understand what's going on in the scene. The descriptions don't match the thoughts. I suspect there's more being seen than the narrator is conveying to the reader.

I'd suggest just making them part of the narrative and doing them more as internalization than internal dialog. Pick only the one you want to emphasize (Like the "oh no" types) and let the rest flow with text.

The pace does drag a bit, because what's going on the importance of these events is unclear. More internalization and description would actually help here. I'd also suggest a little more clarity and consistency in how things are referred to. There's a female, then a chit, then a protester, then a woman, then a goosecap-girl. Is this all the same person? Who's shouting? Running? Who does he chase after and why?

(More on pacing here)

You might consider doing a little more to set the scene and establish who's there and what the reader is looking at. It's hard to follow right now. A few lines is probably all you'd need, and you can even do that through internalization. It doesn't have to be a long descriptive passage. There's a bit of telling and explaining right now as well that could be tweaked to be more in Anthony's head to further establish the scene, get that insight you want, and show more to hook the reader.

(More on setting the scene here)

2. I don’t want to add a pile of ‘he thought’ into the mix, so I chose italics without the single quote mark. Is this appropriate or is there a better styling method?
I agree with the "he thought" reservation, but I think some kind of tag to show that it's the character thinking would help clarify things. I'd suggest the old "touch your face" trick. Draw attention to the character's head or face before the thought, which positions it "in the head" of the character for the reader. For example...

The colorful invective reverberated across St. James Park and destroyed Anthony’s first peaceful moment in a fortnight. He couldn’t translate the diatribe, but concluded that heaven had crowned the foreigner ‘the bravest of idiots.’ He frowned. What lunacy possessed the female shouting the firestorm? Didn’t she realize she stampeded towards her grisly demise?

The text itself reads like a thought, so with just a little nudge to put it in the head of the character, it flows naturally in the narrative and doesn't stick out.

(More on internalization tricks here)

3. Did it hook you for a story opener?
Not yet because I'm lost as to what's happening. Anthony is reacting to things the reader doesn't see (or see clearly) so I feel like I'm only getting half the picture. I also don't understand why any of this matters to him or what he's trying to do, so I have no clear goal to hook me or stakes to worry about.

Your instincts about internalization to keep the pace up and provide insight are dead on, so perhaps add more there to establish what's happening and why it matters. Let Anthony set the scene for the reader by what he sees, thinks, and feels is important as the story opens. I get the sense important things are afoot, but it's not coming across in the text yet.

(More on describing action here)

Overall, I think a little more fleshing out will help get this where you want it to be. There's more in your head than it making it to the page, and as soon as you add some details to get the reader on board, this will probably tighten right up.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Win a 100-Page Critique From Janice Hardy

2013-05-17T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice Hardy

For the last several years I've participated in the Brenda Novak online auction for Diabetes research. This is a fantastic charity where writers and literary folk from all over donate time, prizes, and other goodies to help out a worthy cause.

This year, up for bids is a 100-page critique from me.

There's no time limit to when you can submit your pages and no genre or market requirements. If you're a regular follower of the blog, you have a pretty good idea of what my critique style is like from the weekly Real Life Diagnostics, and I give these charity critiques my full attention and really dig in. I'm happy to answer questions and discuss your critique after as well (I never crit and run).

There's also a ton of other items up for bid, including a slew of terrific things from my writer/agent brothers and sisters at Nelson Literary Agency, so head on over and take a peek!

Guest Author Amy Butler Greenfield: Putting Your Internal Editor to Work

2013-05-15T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Amy Butler Greenfield, @ab_greenfield

Join me in welcoming Amy Butler Greenfield to the blog today to chat with us about our internal editors. We all have them, but do we control them or do they control us?

Amy was on her way to a history Ph.D. when she gave into temptation and became a writer. Among other honors, her books have won a PEN/Albrand Award, the Veolia Prix du Livre Environnement, and a Beacon of Freedom Award.

Born in Philadelphia, Amy grew up in the Adirondack Mountains of New York State. She studied at Williams College and the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and she earned a graduate degree in history at Oxford University on a Marshall Scholarship. She now lives with her family on the edge of the Cotswolds in England, where she writes, reads, and bakes double-dark-chocolate cake.

She loves music, romantic adventure, history, quirky science, and suspense, which explains how she came to write her first YA novel, Chantress, from Simon & Schuster.

Take it away Amy...

Oh, the dreaded internal editor! If you’re a writer, you’ll know its insidious voice all too well. This chapter makes no sense, it whispers. Your plot is in pieces. You ought to quit now because you’ll never write anything good.

How do you keep writing in the face of this onslaught?

Some people advise you to laugh at your internal editor, or imagine escorting him or her out the door. Others recommend you probe your past to see where your internal editor came from. These approaches can be helpful, but I’m going to suggest something different:

Put your internal editor to work.

Start by giving your editor a sheet of paper. (A computer file works just fine, too, but I find paper tends to slow my editor down a bit, which can be handy.) Your editors will love this, trust me. The first time I did this, my own internal editor was only too happy to tell me how bad the chapter was, and what a terrible job I was doing.

Let your editors rant, but don’t take any of it too seriously. They just need to get it out of their systems. As soon as you can, ask them the key question:

“Do you have anything specific to tell me?”

If my internal editor falls silent, as she often does, I know that her criticisms mean nothing except that she’s afraid of this writing business. She fears that I won’t do a good job, that I’m going to make a fool of myself—and of her. I’ve learned I can safely ignore those kinds of worries. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “Pretty much every writer I know is afraid of that, too.” And then I get back to work.

Sometimes, however, my internal editor has something very specific to say:

“The pace has really slowed down in this chapter. Can’t you get rid of some of that backstory?”
“Why did the antagonist do that? What’s his motivation?”
“You’ve completely dropped the subplot. Either do something with it, or cut it out.”

These are comments I can use—and the more specific the criticism, the more worthwhile it is to look at it.

Not all of the comments are true, of course, and not all of them need to be dealt with right away. I may, for instance, decide that the chapter pacing is fine, as it is, or I might wait till the next draft to trim the backstory. But listening to my internal editor can save me a lot of trouble. When I’m stuck, she often has a good idea where the problem is. And when I’m done with my draft, I can use her list of issues and problems to help me revise.

Giving my internal editor her own sheet of paper has had other benefits, too. Now that she knows she’ll get a chance to speak, she’s eased up on me. Lots of time she just lets me write. When she does speak up, sometimes she’s still mean, but more often she’s simply in problem-solving mode.

There’s been a change in me as well. Instead of seeing my internal editor as an enemy, I’ve come to see her as an ally: cantankerous, sometimes snippy, but someone who can help me make my stories better. And that’s made the process of writing them easier.

About Chantress

Sing and the darkness will find you.

When Lucy hears tantalizing music in the air and sings it, she unlocks a terrible secret: She is a Chantress, a spell-singer, hidden from the world by a desperate enchantment.

Her song puts her within reach of England’s cruel Lord Protector and his mind-reading hunters, the Shadowgrims. The Protector has killed all Chantresses, for they alone can destroy him. Only Lucy has survived—so far.

In terrible danger, Lucy takes shelter with Nat, a spy who turns her heart upside-down. They want to overthrow the Protector, but Lucy is completely untrained, and Nat deeply distrusts her magic. If Lucy cannot master the song-spells, how long can she even stay alive?

Lyrical, dangerous and romantic, Chantress will capture readers in a spell they won’t want to break.

Hiring an Editor - Yay or Nay?

2013-05-13T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Pulling from the archives today. Just got back from a week away and I'm too jet lagged to write (grin). Enjoy!

Getting published is a hard thing, and it's very competitive. You can have a good book and still not land an agent or an editor, which is incredibly frustrating. The pressure is tectonic plate-quality sometimes, and many a writer has thought about finding outside, professional help.

But should you?

ETA: This is purely for writers going the traditional route. If you're self publishing, hiring an editor and even a copy editor are important to putting out a quality product.

PRO: If the goal is to learn to be a better writer, then hiring an editor could be a good idea for those who have the money to spend. (If you don't, then don't stress over it. You can improve and get published without ever spending money on an editor)

I think the end goal really plays a huge part in deciding this. If your goal is to have someone evaluate your work and give feedback on why you're not taking the next step, then an editor could be very helpful. They might see things you or your critique group can't (no matter how good they are, they aren't editors in the publishing biz so they evaluate things differently), and be able to shed new light on what's holding you back. If you want to learn what things to look for so you can better edit yourself, a freelance editor can also be helpful. A more personalized writing class so to speak.

CON: If the goal is to get 95% of the way there, and then hire someone to "make you good enough" and get that last 5%, you're most likely setting yourself up for failure.

If the end goal is to make the book publishable, I think hiring an editor might not be the best choice. Every editor will bring their own tastes to the book, and they could very well suggest things that change your voice. You might make changes based on what they say, but not understand why they said it--or worse, not agree but do it anyway because you want to sell your novel so badly. A really horrible possibility--you could indeed get a manuscript accepted by an agent, but be unable to turn in another book good enough to sell (since you never learned those vital last steps). You could be setting yourself up to always need outside help.

Now, I can hear some of you thinking "Well, an agent and an editor make changes after they take on the book, so why is this any different?"

Which is a good question. My answer: Because you were good enough to get there on your own, and now they're going to help make the book better. If you can't get to pro level under your own skill, playing in the big leagues is going to be incredibly difficult and heartbreaking. You will likely end up being asked to do things you're not capable of doing yet. And that's a great way to kill a career before it starts. You probably don't want to be a one-book wonder.

For me, finding a great critique group seems like a much better way to learn, but not everyone has access to that. Or maybe they don't have time to reciprocate, but still want the feedback. I can see reasons where hiring an editor could be a good choice, same as I can see bad reasons for it.

This is a choice every writer has to make for themselves. Some may never even think about it, some may look at it as another step in their writing education. Some may even look at it as a shortcut to publication. I'm a firm believer in doing what's right for you, but also understand why you're doing it. Just like your characters, understand the motivations and make sure you're doing it for the right reasons.

Whether those reasons tell you yay or nay.

Would you hire (or have you hired) an editor? Why or why not?

Guest Author Michael Kinn: Speculative Ninjas for the Win!

2013-05-10T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Michael Kinn

Please join me in welcoming Michael Kinn back to the blog today to ask a very good question: why do you write? He shares his reasons for writing speculative fiction, but all writers can benefit from a little introspection about their own genres and tastes.

Michael makes up stuff as a scientist, a storyteller and a writer, any combination of which sets his creative juices flowing. He loves the ocean, writes under the influence of green tea and finds life a breeze compared to negotiating his teenagers’ freedom charters. Michael is addicted to great stories and in dire need of extra lives.

Take it away Michael...

Whatever your occupation, someone is bound to ask the dreaded question: “Why do you do what you do?” Great if you happen to be a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon. What if you’re, say, a writer? Why do you write?

The answers will vary. But you better have one ready. For someone will call you on it, challenge your very existence. And just like you’ll need to justify why you’re a chess boxer, tattoo artist, bonsai clipper or whale therapist, you’re going to have to grow a pitch in the wake of deep soul searching or make due with a flippant comeback. Better, combine both.

Mine’s: “‘Cause I love extreme writing.”

It’s a pitch, and, like any pitch, it’s a bonbon of flippancy wrapped around a sweet core of truth. Speculative fiction writing is an extreme sport. It sharpens the ultimate survival skill: imagination. Wooing a hot date, anticipating your enemy’s attack or gymnasts making the jump, all require fast-footed imagining. We reached the moon because we imagined it. Aliens, get in line.

Down to the wire, fiction writing and reading exercise your prime survival skill. Speculative fiction writers and readers are at the extreme end of that scale… survival ninjas for the win!

Dreaming up stuff is part of why we do so well as a species, learning and growing as we conceive new possibilities. It links us as humans. Creativity is deeply tied to our survival, which is why courting the muse feels sooooo good.

Of course, writing about survival is great fun too. There’s nothing more exhilarating than surviving a tight scrape. In space, no one will hear you scream… What’s not to love? Especially if it involves creativity, like strapping yourself in a spacesuit before opening the hatch to flush out the alien.

The game of speculative fiction, like the Asian game of Go, has very few rules. Both give imagination near free rein, making them infinitely hard—and infinitely interesting. Speculative fiction, as a game of fewest rules, spans the crown of extreme imaginative writing.

It’s a brilliant occupation. And if editing ever drains your muse, leaving your creative side screaming for a change, just remember that fiction is not the only game in town. Music, story telling, sculpting... any type of creative project will loosen those muscles, and get you back to play.

Richard Feynman, during a dry spell of scientific discovery, went back to “playing”, scientific free-wheeling, mixed with his drum sessions, life drawing and safe cracking, before dreaming up his famous diagrams modelling the behaviour of subatomic particles. Scientists could do worse than to irrigate dry spells with fiction writing. Giving the imagination free rein works wonders.

That’s why I love speculative fiction. It unlocks the imagination—opening the gate to the Kingdom of Wonder, as a reader, as a writer.

Now, bring on those aliens.

And next time someone asks the dreaded question, let them in on your ninja secret as you pass them a copy of your latest survival practice.

Guest Author Dana Gynther: Editors and Evolution

2013-05-08T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Dana Gynther

I'd like to welcome Dana Gynther to the blog today to chat with us about what it's like working with an editor. It can be an intimidating process--especially the first time--but it can also be a lot of fun and very inspiring.

Dana Gynther spent eighteen months in France after college, then returned to Alabama to earn an MA in French Literature from UA. After marrying a French-speaking Spaniard, she moved to her husband’s hometown, Valencia. They’ve been living there for twenty years where they work as teachers and translators. In fact, she was inspired to write Crossing on the Paris after translating a museum catalog about ocean liners. They also enjoy spending time with their two teenage daughters. You can learn more about her on her website or Facebook.

Take it away Dana...

Before my first phone conference with an editor, I was suffering from the sweaty-palm, squeaky-voice variety of nerves usually reserved for teenagers on a first date. Not that I find editors frightening per se, but I wanted to make a great impression knowing the sale of my book could depend on it. At the same time, I was worried she would demand unreasonable changes to my text. I’d heard horror stories about editors missing the whole point of a book and asking writers to make it “sexier” by doing things like changing a friendship into a heated romance, or a wise old man into a street-smart girl.

“Even if you hate her suggestions, say something like ‘That’s interesting’ or ‘Huh! I never thought about that before.’ Never say no straight away. It can all be worked out,” my savvy agent told me right before the call. “Keep an open mind—even if she suggests something you’re completely against.”

The truth is, I had already learned a thing or two about feedback before this conversation. I knew that, often times, my immediate reaction was to feel defensive or protective about my work and then, gradually, as the outsider’s idea seeped in, to realize it was for the best. Like that time when I went on a name-dropping binge, giving my character a Louis Vuitton trunk and Patou gowns. Or when, as a history enthusiast, I wanted to include every fun fact even remotely related to my story. So, although I was nervous about talking to the editor, I was prepared to be receptive to new ideas and certainly not antagonistic. Working with my agent, I had long since learned that a manuscript can always be improved (even though, like most writers, I’d wanted to be told it was perfect from the start).

After general introductions and niceties, the editor in question plunged right in.

“So, the character________.” (No spoilers here). “I think he needs some work.”

I knew—without even having to ponder it—that she was right. After all, editors find their calling for a reason; they are great readers, able to quickly put their finger on problems and think of possible solutions. Far from being the writer’s enemy, most all of them are allies. She had, with one swift reading (she’d flown through the text in an afternoon), spotted the character who had caused me problems, the one I had struggled with. And, although a secondary one, he played a crucial role.

In the original version, the character was a real drama bomb. Creepy from the outset, we later realized he was a bona fide lunatic. I’d endowed him with de Clerambault’s syndrome, the disorder that causes sufferers to believe that an individual—often a stranger—is in love with them, that they are meant to be together. I’d found it fascinating in Ian McEwan’s “Enduring Love” and thought I’d give it a whirl. I didn’t stop there, though. I made him a violent man with a dubious past. As for his physical description, he had a face “so commonplace, so utterly normal, it defied description”—but I threw in a scar and a peculiar gait for good measure.

The editor loved the book nonetheless and her suggestions were gentle, subtle.

“How would you feel about toning him down?” she asked. “Making him more universal, a bit less extreme? He could still do bad things, but maybe not be, uh, completely crazy.”

True, that man was someone very few people could really relate to (thank goodness!). And although I like grisly, dark characters (I was a Stephen King fan in high school), I had to agree—in this case, less could be more.

After our conversation, the editor decided to purchase the manuscript—now a published novel, “Crossing on the Paris,” which came out last November. But she left the decision on how that character should evolve up to me. In the end, he went from being a featureless madman to an attractive sweet-talker. Instead of scaring the protagonist, he was attentive and kind, able to woo her, but dangerous still: a cat playing with a mouse. At least most of us have heard of, if not met, men like that. And this man’s face got a description. He was real.

Giving the character a full make-over required a lot of rewriting and editing—every scene he was in was redone—but it was worth it. And really, like I said to the editor—“Huh! I never thought about that before!”

About Crossing on the Paris

“Downton Abbey meets Titanic”. It continues with “in this sweeping debut novel. Dana Gynther chronicles the lives of three women on board a majestic ocean liner traveling from France to New York in the wake of World War I. “

Take Two: When to Start a Sequel

2013-05-06T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Updating a post from the archives for today. This one is interesting because I wrote it before I finished my trilogy, and it's fun to see how my thoughts evolved after going through the process.

It seems like more and more books are series-based these days (especially in some genres), which can leave a lot of writers asking the same question--when is a good time to start my sequel?

I asked my agent the very same question before she sent my manuscript out on submission. She advised that I prepare a synopsis for the next two books so she'd have something to show editors, but to start on a new non-sequel book in the meantime. Her reasoning was that if the first book didn't sell, I wouldn't have wasted time on a sequel that also wouldn't sell, and would instead be ready with a new book.

Sound advice.

Just about everyone will tell you not to write the sequel for a book you haven't sold yet (for the above reasons). A lot of folks who've written the rest of the trilogy after they sold the first swear they'd never do it again. They'd write the whole thing first and then submit.

From the Write it All First Camp
When you have a book published and out in the world, you can't make changes to the story. Whatever you wrote you're stuck with. I found that true with The Shifter and after going through the trilogy experience, I'm in the "complete an entire first draft of a trilogy before I submitted book one" camp. There were too many things I wish I could have gone back and tweaked by the time I got to book three.

If you write the entire thing at once, anything you do in book three can be added to book one, and the entire series can be fleshed out as one story. Stories do evolve and ideas appear, and even writing skill improves over the course of three books.

However, for a straight series, the story would be different every book and not rely on the previous book, so I don't think I'd feel the same pressure. Though I would like to have a few rough drafts or at least detailed synopses of books two and three to make sure I fully understood where the series could go.

From the Wait to Write it Camp
Why spend a lot of time and emotional energy on something that might not ever sell? Having six or seven sequels ready to go is great if you sell that first book, but you can't guarantee a sale. And after spending so much time in one world with one set of characters, it might be even harder to break away and write something new.

It'll also take you a lot longer to get it done, which could be problematic if you have a contract to fulfill. Markets could even change before you get the entire thing written, leaving you with a slew of books with little future until the market changes again.

I think there's a happy medium in there though. A detailed outline or synopsis would help get the major points all aligned, and still let you write one book and send it out there. Some in depth character and world building notes can make sure you have a solid handle on how things work and how people live in that world. If the goal is to write one and then wait, the more details you can get down abut the next books would be a tremendous help when you sit down to write them.

Which way you want to go really depends on the story and the kind of writer you are and whether or not you're on deadline. If you have a multi-book story idea that you feel passionate about, and it's an all or nothing deal for you emotionally, then maybe you'd be willing to invest the extra time and write all three before you start querying. (Though do make the first book a stand alone if you can. The odds are SO much better for you that way). If you have plenty of ideas and don't feel emotionally driven to write a sequel unless someone asks for it, move on to other stories.

Are you in the write it first or wait and see camp?

Real Life Diagnostics: Is This Opening Working?

2013-05-04T06:30:00.000-04:00

Like the spider that senses the most tentative movement at the edge of its web
In a single swift movement
Pushed by a puff of sea breeze
white cotton

These phrases feel like someone other than Lauren describing what's happening, or are outside of her point of view. Or are things she'd be unlikely to notice or comment on in this situation.

(More on telling and omniscient view here)

2. Enough imagery/description
Yes. I didn't feel ungrounded or lost, even though there's not a lot of detail here. It's a bedroom, at night, it's on the beach. The action works to draw me in so I didn't need much. Now that the "danger" has passed, I can see this revealing a little more to flesh out the setting and ground the reader in this world and story.

I also liked how the details provided really fit the character. A woman in a panic, trained with a weapon, noticed the things that mattered to her. The weapon, the air movement, who and what was in the room.

(More on description here)

3. Would you keep reading? (Does it work?)
I would. It feels like a suspense to me, I like how Lauren's voice comes through at the end. She seems practical, yet broken, and she knows it. That she's actively trying to fix herself says a lot about her. Plus she has a dog, which makes her likable right away. And the dog calls her mom, which totally comes across as a real pet owner, so I like her even more.

One warning about the cliché of waking up with something wrong, though. It didn't bother me, but this is a situation I know agents and editors see a ton of and advise not to start a novel this way. However, it seems fitting for this character and works to show her PTSD and how she's managing it, so it might be the exception to the guideline. You'd have to make a judgment call there.

(More on deadly sins for a first chapter here)

Overall this works. A little tweaking for polish, but it feels strong so far.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Should You Maintain the Same POV Distance Throughout the Novel?

2013-05-03T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

It's a bit of a POV week, with some follow up questions to Monday's post.

Is it acceptable for different characters through whom a story is told to have different degrees of closeness in their POV, according to their importance to the story?

Yes, as long as you establish that fairly quickly and be consistent. For example, you might have one POV is first person and another in limited third (Skin Hunger does this), or mix first and omniscient third (the I.Q. series does this), or even change styles per book (The Old Man's War series does this).

However, be wary of what and how many you mix. If you have a lot of third omniscient and third limited characters, it might look like you're POV shifting or just don't know how to handle POV well, especially if the reasons for changing narrative distance aren't clear. Just because you know why one character is less important doesn't mean the reader will, so you'd want to keep the reader's perspective in mind when messing around with POV. Will they understand what you're doing and why?

(More on choosing narrative distance here)

You'd also want to make sure the reason for it serves the story. It's not uncommon to see a distant or omniscient third from the antagonist's POV, but if you have two main characters that seem to be on the same level, then it might feel odd to have one close and one distant without a solid reason.

Also be wary of scenes from random POVs that are there only to show one small piece of information. Like with any POV, if the scene is there just to convey information the main character isn't privy to, you might want to re-think it. POVs that only appear once or twice are red flags for this.

Must that degree of closeness for a specific character always be the same throughout the novel?

Technically, anything can be done if done well, but honestly, yes, most folks will advise that you should keep them the same. A sudden change of narrative distance or POV style is jarring to the reader. I remember one literary novel that started out in first person present tense, then shifted to third person past tense for another character, then shifted back to the original character, this time in third person past tense. I stopped reading. It was just too random to keep up with, and the switches made no sense that I could see.

(More on choosing narrative distance in multiple third person)

It's also very difficult to do well, so if you try this, be very careful about how to go about it. Clarity is key when doing anything out of the ordinary.

You Might be Looking, but do you SEE?

2013-05-01T08:46:00.002-04:00

Author, poet and writing teacher Amy Ludwig VanDerwater shared her “Drawing into Poems” project for National Poetry Month.

By Robyn Hood Black, @artsyletters

Poem Farm blog creator and poet extraordinaire Amy Ludwig VanDerwater shared a wonderful adventure in April for National Poetry Month, a project she called “Drawing into Poems.” Here is the introductory post about it, and you can follow each April entry for sketches and thoughts. I also blogged about her endeavors on my art blog here.

Essentially, Amy committed to drawing something every day of the month – really slowing down and looking at something. Then she added all kinds of thoughts/observations/associations, and she’s written some poems inspired by these.

I thought we’d slow down and look a little today, too. As writers, that left brain/language side of our psyche is often on overdrive – wanting to analyze, categorize, describe in words the data coming in. But to be really good writers, we must be able to simply observe first – before attaching judgments and labels to everything in the world around us. I know, I know – I didn’t say it was necessarily easy to downshift! So, first – take a deep breath. Inhale, e-x-h-a-l-e.

A couple of the book titles on Amy’s resource list made me smile, and I recovered them from our dusty bookshelves.

First, THE ZEN OF SEEING – SEEING/DRAWING AS MEDITATION by Frederick Franck (1909-2006) is a classic. My husband picked up a copy of this in college, and I’ve “borrowed” it more than once. First published in 1973, it’s still available and still a wonder to read. Laced with quotations (some centuries old) from zen masters and others, this handwritten volume is a workshop, journey and meditation guide all in one.

Franck discusses the process of letting go of your preconceived notions about something or worries about making a masterpiece, and becoming the object of your attention.

“Seeing/drawing is the art of un-learning about things,” he writes. Ironically, he must use words of course to describe this practice of turning off the part of the mind that wants to label everything. Not surprisingly, his descriptions make very fine writing:

“The pen caresses the round shoulder of a hill, feels its sensuous, lazy curves, then jumps staccato down the aggressive juttings of rocky ledges. Trees and plants push themselves out of the earth, like hairs on the skin, each one from its own roots. …”

Reading this book again brought to mind the statement by famous 17th century haiku master Basho, who said, “Go to the pine if you want to learn about pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about bamboo. …”

Second, my in-laws gave me Betty Edwards’ DRAWING ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE BRAIN for Christmas in 1984, when my husband and I were newlyweds. Since hitting the shelves in 1979, this book has sold over a million and a half copies in the US alone. A newly revised version appeared last year.

It’s more of a practical guide about how to draw, but again the emphasis is on SEEING rather than on actual hand/eye coordination. (There are lots of visual references and some great quotes sprinkled throughout this book as well.)

Edwards writes, “Creative persons from fields other than art who want to get their working skills under better control and learn to overcome blocks to creativity will benefit from working with the techniques presented here.” Edwards focuses on making a shift from the left side of our brains, where language and logic usually live, to the right side of our brains (she calls this “R-mode”), where nonverbal, nontemporal intuition and spatial sense reign.

I enjoyed revisiting the practice of blind contour drawing, which we used to do in college art classes. You can try this easily with a pen and a piece of paper – nothing fancy required. The idea is simply to draw an object, figure, or scene by only drawing its edges, AND by positioning your paper away from your eyes so that you cannot see what you’re drawing! Oh, and don’t lift your pen. It’s a wonderful exercise about following the actual shape of something with your pen, not what you “think” it’s supposed to look like.

Here’s an example of what we usually think of as a sketch, with the artist’s eye darting back and forth between still life and paper.

Here are examples of blind contour drawing. The lines made with a pen lend themselves more to this fluid process than the ones made with charcoal.

For more on blind contour drawing, here’s a link to a brief tutorial from artist daily.

Even if you write fantasy, you must first pay attention to the details of the world you create before you can adequately describe these to your reader. In conversations I’ve had with Janice when she talks about Geveg from her HEALING WARS trilogy, there’s no doubt she’s describing “real” details to me from a setting she has spent a great deal of time in!

Working on this post, I realized there’s so much I want to explore on this topic that it could go on for miles. So… “to be continued”! In future months we’ll tackle the idea of gesture drawing and also the concept of positive/negative space as these relate to strengthening our writing, whether poetry or fiction.

In the meantime, be sure to check out Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s first collection of poetry for kids, FOREST HAS A SONG (Clarion, March 2013). You might just see the woods in a different light!

Robyn Hood Black writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction for young readers from the foothills of north Georgia. Her books include SIR MIKE (Scholastic Library, 2005), and WOLVES (Intervisual Books, 2008). Her poems appear in THE ARROW FINDS ITS MARK (Roaring Brook, 2012), THE POETRY FRIDAY ANTHOLOGY FOR MIDDLE SCHOOL (2013) and THE POETRY FRIDAY ANTHOLOGY (2012). Her haiku have been published in leading haiku journals. She’s also just launched an art business with “art for your literary side” at http://artsyletters.com.

And the Winner of the Setting Conest is...

2013-05-01T08:32:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

You guys are making it harder and harder to judge these contests. There are so many great entries this time, and a lot of solid writing here. Also a bunch of new faces, which is great! Nice to see new folks joining in.

There were a few that were very well done, but one of the "rules" of this exercise was no new growth or flowers, and they mentioned one or both. That actually made it a little easier for me to narrow down the list -grin- You guys get an honorable mention nod.

Since this is about setting and using uncommon details, I'm going to bold the details that stood out to me.

The Honorable Mention nods:

Eevaluator

Plump Paul plopped on the bed. A spring sprung. Knifing through decrepit mattress fabric and slightly soiled briefs, the erupting coil caught the chubby crack top and pierced his coccyx. Paralysis radiated. His bladder emptied.

The urine floated rust particles off the abused metal and into his spinal fluid. Breathing stopped when his involuntary respiratory control center shut down.

Elvira thought he was asleep when she arrived. “Disgusting (as usual),” she mumbled. “You’d think I’d get used to it.” She smiled. She was not puking. “I am getting used it.”

In contrast to the bedroom, the kitchen was immaculate. Elvira kept it that way. She was cracking eggs for Paul’s breakfast when she realized the smell of bacon had failed to arouse him.

Returning to the bedroom, she shook him, called his name. He stayed a lump.

She tried to roll him. The sprung spring sprang loose. Its pointed tip appeared bloody. She called 9-1-1. Within minutes, she heard sirens.

As she stepped onto the landing to hold the door for the hero guys, a robin in a bare oak said, “Tweet.”

“Oh, that spring,” she thought. “My setting is for naught. Janice won’t care about an ancient, rusty coil protruding from a ripped and urine-soaked mattress with a rotund corpse upon it. She’ll want the robin in that bed.”

“Submit it anyway,” said the evil little voice that told her to go gross in the first place. “Nobody’ll notice. Your novel’s going nowhere, and you’ll never entice that robin to that stinking bedroom.”

I like the non-traditional approach here to the word spring. Thinking outside the box was what this was all about, and this certainly does that. Had it had more actual setting, it probably would have made the final round.

Sloane Smith

The sun we hadn't seen in months wasn't shining as bright. And suddenly, the new white paint on my house looked worn. The shouting of kids down the street was more torment than usual. Not to mention unlike every other spring, the still brown grass didn't have the still-frozen crunch. I kicked a rock. It bounced off the only bare tree in my yard.

It was all alone without a friend...just like me. And just like me, as if I were the tree, it was surrounded by lilies just starting to poke up between the dull pine straw. They will be bright and happy, but the tree will only have to put on its leaves – its mask – and pretend to be bright and happy too. Then the annual remembrance will come, and the mask will fall, and it’ll try to protect itself, and both the tree as well as I might as well be dead.

Just like now with this year’s horrible, lonely first day of spring.

I really like the sense of loneliness between the narrator and the setting here. The setting is used well to reflect the mood of the POV. But the new lilies knocked this one out.

Chuck Brown

Alex strode confidently to the first tee. Finally.

The fairway stretched out before him like a sea of emeralds, with waves of fuchsia and pink azaleas to-and-froing in the breeze alongside the right edge of the fairway. Bastards.

Alex pulled his eyes away from the colorful display, knowing that they’d been placed near the out-of-bounds marker and designed to drag the golfer’s eye in that direction in order to make the club face open up and push the ball that way.

Instead, Alex narrowed his eyes and focused on the white ball sitting up on the tee. Concentrate, he ordered himself. Just like you saw on those interminable video lessons you watched as snow continued to fall all through February, March and April. So much for global warming.

Thwack. The ball arced into the azure sky, curled left around the dogleg, then drifted right into the rough. Damn.

Alex stalked down the fairway. Focus. Ignore the trees, the sun, the bright colors. Distractions, all of them. This is why you didn’t complete those tax forms fanned out across the dining room table. Be the club; it’s just you and the ball.

The longer grass grabbed at his spikes as he exited the fairway. Thirty yards away, his ball sat atop the grass, like an egg about to hatch. Alex headed toward it, worrying about his next shot and trying to ignore the birds’ chirping, the tangy perfume of new buds on the trees, the rainbow of bright colors.

How he loved Spring.

I like the sense of golf course setting here and how it flows nicely with what the POV is doing. I also liked the contrast of the flowers and his attitude toward them. But all the flowers knocked this one out of the runing.

And now, the finalists:

Jess

The wind whipping around Observation Peak still carries the ghost of an Antarctic winter. The shiver it sends through my body makes my stomach churn. It’s just nerves, I assure myself. I’ve stayed inside. I haven’t been exposed.

But I’m outside now, and I try to ignore the sickly green hue of the cloud-heavy sky. Bombs, they’d said, before the satellite went silent. For eighteen days, that word has repeated itself in every thought and every conversation. Bombs. Plural.

A lone Petrel sprawls across a rock nest, surrounded by carcasses and broken eggs that have been picked over by the few predators still strong enough to scavenge. She doesn’t move as I pass, but warns me with a high, stuttering call that echoes and dies like laughter in an empty room.

I reach the summit and stare down at the lapping tide. The ice has melted, making room for the supply ship that was supposed to come a week ago. But the bay is deserted even by the Weddell Seals that should be calving on the black sand.

The transmitter’s power switch creaks under my thumb. My message won’t carry all the way to New Zealand, but if there are any ships on their way, they should pick it up. Please let them hear. Please let them hurry.

“This is Dr. Carver at McMurdo Station. If you can hear me, please respond.” Static. “Radiation levels are spiking. People are dying. Please respond.”

Static.

The horizon blends into the sky. Empty.

What I like about this one is the sense of solitude and world building, connecting the loneliness of the POV with the loneliness of the place. The setting is woven in flawlessly and nothing feels stuck in or out of place. The Spring details are subtle, yet poignant to the POV and unique to the setting itself.

Amy Schaefer

Marnie stared out at the naked brown fields as endless rain pounded against the kitchen window. Brown, brown, everything was brown. The dirt. The stubble of last year’s wheat. The muddy floodwaters that were still rising, killing more and more of her fields. The half-drowned trees along the banks, trying not get washed away. Washed away like the seed she’d couldn’t afford but bought anyway. Like her last chance to keep the farm from going under.

Crows hunched in the trees. Occasionally one would dive to catch a fish between the furrows. At least someone was eating this spring.

The wind picked up, sending ripples across the flooded fields. Dead husks poked through the water, blemishes on the ugly face of the flood. Marnie leaned against the cool glass and wondered if the water was deep enough to set a boat on. Whether she could pack them all up, Dad and the kids and Buddy and all, and just sail away to a better life somewhere where the rain didn’t bring death and famine and a bleak, homeless future.

Dad shuffled slowly into the kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane. His rheumy eyes sought her out, his cataracts so bad that he was almost blind now. Marnie jumped up to ease his wasted frame into a chair.

He gave her a wavering smile. “How’re my crops today?” he croaked.

Marnie took a last look at the huge brown lake. She squeezed his shoulder. “They’re coming along great Daddy. Just great.”

Another excellent snippet. What I like about this one is the way the setting details reflect the scene itself and the mood of the character. The water and washing away theme resonates nicely with her desire to "wash her hands" of the whole thing and run away. The contrast of spring being a season of rebirth and this one bringing death and famine was lovely.

And the winner is...

Jess!

What pushed this one over the top for me was the way she wove the setting into the scene itself. There was a solid sense of place that moved the plot and story, contributed to the tone and mood, and reflected the character.

Jess, just contact me at janice (@) janicehardy (dot) com for your critique.

Grats and fantastic job to everyone!

Guest Author Delilah S. Dawson 10 Steps to Writing a Novella

2013-04-30T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Delilah S. Dawson, @DelilahSDawson

Bonus guest post this week in honor of a writing bud's book release. Yay! Paranormal romance author Delilah S. Dawson's new novel comes out today: Wicked As She Wants, the second in her Blud series. On top of writing novels, Delilah's been busy with novellas set in her world, and she's here today to share some tips on writing those not-quite-a-novel stories.

Delilah is a native of Roswell, Georgia and the author of the paranormal romance Blud series for Pocket, including WICKED AS THEY COME and an e-novella, THE MYSTERIOUS MADAM MORPHO. The second book in the series, WICKED AS SHE WANTS, and a second novella, THE PECULIAR PETS OF MISS PLEASANCE, will be out in spring 2013, and her first YA, a creepy paranormal called SERVANTS OF THE STORM will be available in spring 2014. RT Book Reviews has called her "a wonderfully fresh new voice!"

Take it away Delilah...

When I sold my first book to Pocket in 2011, it sold in a three-book series. Shortly after that, they requested three e-novellas. I'd never written a novella before, but I jumped at the chance. Here's what I learned about telling an exciting story in 40,000 words or less using my first novella, The Mysterious Madam Morpho, as the example.

1. A novella is not a book, so keep your ideas smaller.

Novellas run between 20k to 40k, which means you have less than half a book to tell a complete story. It's best to begin with a rock-solid premise that won't require too many twists and turns to be exciting. Example: A mysterious woman with a dangerous past joins the traveling circus and falls in love with a reclusive clockwork inventor.

2. Your characters still need to be just as deep and well-rounded.

Just because a novella is shorter doesn't mean you can skimp on the characters. You should still have a firm idea of their backstories, their quirks, their flaws, their strengths, and what they look like. Example: Imogen Morpho is bookish, blunt, educated, and has trouble trusting men due to being mistreated by her father and then her professor. She wears frumpy clothes, keeps a brooch hidden in her jacket, and doesn't think her copper-colored eyes are very pretty.

3. Your setting is still important, you just can't go crazy describing it.

Readers read to feel immersed in a world, and you have to ground them in a specific time and place and provide adequate detail to help them see what you're seeing. But you can't go into purple prose, describing every tree or statue or crenellation in the architecture. Example: My novella takes place in a traveling caravan that was established in my first book, but I describe the wagons, the smell of the carnival at night, and the loneliness of the grassy moors outside.

4. You need fewer subplots.

In a full-sized book, your story is more than the characters going from point A to point B. You have to throw extra challenges at your protagonist, provide subplots with secondary characters, and generally muck things up. In a novella, you still need to keep the reader on their toes, but you mainly need to stick to one stretch of straight road. Example: Imogen joins the caravan as a butterfly tamer. Henry is assigned the task of building her equipment, and they begin to fall in love. They are both hiding secrets, and Imogen tells Henry that she has stolen the butterflies from a former employer who mistreated her. On opening night, Imogen's employer shows up with police to have her arrested.

5. But! You must speed up the pace to keep the reader turning pages.

In order to keep things brisk, it's best to tell a novella from one character's point of view, when possible, and not spend too much time mulling over thoughts. Dialog should be succinct and purposeful. Action is key, especially since your word count is limited. Example: Imogen and Henry are forced together when the police come to the caravan to search for her. Later, she storms off and is almost killed in a wild animal attack. These aren't subplots, but they do add action and thrills to the otherwise straight line of the story.

6. Keep the time frame short.

A novella is not the time to tell a story that stretches out over a year. Confine your storyline to a few days to keep the pace up and make sure you can wrap up the ending. Example: The Mysterious Madam Morpho takes place over just a few days. Since Imogen's former employer is looking for her and the caravan is grounded, she's basically a sitting duck.

7. If you're writing romance, get ready for sooner-than-usual sex.

I don't write the typical paranormal romance couples who fall prey to insta-love, so it's challenging for me to include the requisite sex scene in a novella that takes place over only a few days. I want my characters to have a connection first and a chance of a happily ever after. If your characters aren't the sort who would usually hop into the sack after two days, make sure to have them discuss it or say something along the lines of, “I've never fallen for someone so quickly/done that before.” Example: Imogen is a scientifically minded scholar and unwitting feminist who is adamant that she'll take whatever pleasure she wants.

8. Limit the number of characters.

A novella is not the time to give names and back stories to all twelve dancing princesses. It's best to stick to one or two strong characters and use a few supporting characters as necessary. Remember that your words are definitely numbered, and don't waste them describing princess #4's hair. Example: My main characters are Imogen and Henry, with the villain lurking in the background. A few characters from the caravan are mentioned, but briefly and for specific purposes.

9. End with a bang.

Start strong and fast, keep up the pace, keep the writing tight, and end with an unexpected twist or something snappy and powerful that will affect the reader. They should walk away feeling satisfied, not confused or annoyed by a cliff-hanger or deus ex machina. Example: I can't say how, but the villain dies in an entirely unexpected and unusual way that's unique to my world.

10. Novellas are a great time to experiment.

Books often feel like these big, serious tomes. Novellas have more room to be experimental and playful. Take a risk in your writing, whether with point of view, characters, or setting. Example: In my first book, I felt that the heroine could have been more assertive. So I wanted Imogen to be a woman who had been a victim and then decided to take charge of her life and body. Her bluntness and unashamedness were fun to play around with, and it was also exciting to work within the confines of the caravan and deal with two characters who weren't blood drinkers, humans from our world, or magical. I set a challenge and enjoyed figuring out how to write it.

I wrote three novellas in the last year and have gone from slightly intimidated to energized and excited at the thought of the next one. It's truly satisfying to finish a complete story in one-third of the time, and I love knowing that I can give my readers another small escape.

If you have any questions about writing novellas, find me on Twitter and see if I can answer in 140 characters or less. I'm getting better on whittling down my word count. :)

About Wicked As She Wants

When Blud princess Ahnastasia wakes up, drained and starving in a suitcase, she’s not sure which calls to her more: the sound of music or the scent of blood. The source of both sensations is a handsome and mysterious man named Casper Sterling. Once the most celebrated musician in London, Sangland, he’s fallen on hard times. Now, much to Ahna’s frustration, the debauched and reckless human is her only ticket back home to the snow-rimmed and magical land of Freesia.

Together with Casper’s prickly charge, a scrappy orphan named Keen, they seek passage to Ahna’s homeland, where a power-hungry sorceress named Ravenna holds the royal family in thrall. Traveling from the back alleys of London to the sparkling minarets of Muscovy, Ahna discovers that Freesia holds new perils and dangerous foes. Back in her country, she is forced to choose between the heart she never knew she had and the land that she was born to rule. But with Casper’s help, Ahna may find a way to have it all….

Handling Scene Transitions With Multiple POVs

2013-04-29T08:31:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

A reader asked me a great point of view question recently:

My WiP is a novel with multiple third person POV. While I am not finding that mode problematic generally, I am struggling a little with the transition between POVs. It's trivially easy if the main character is not interacting with another character through whom the story is also told, but what happens when they're in the same chapter? Ought one give both POVs when they are together? Choose one which is more relevant to the narrative? Or pull back and have a more distant, omniscient voice?

Transitions can be tricky at the best of times, but this has to be one of the tougher ones to handle. With third person, simply switching POVs per scene can feel like a POV shift or head hopping if the characters are all in the same scene. Here are some guidelines:

1. Stick to one POV per scene, even if there are multiple POV characters in a scene

Bopping around can confuse the reader, so you always want to be clear whose head you're in. The only time you'd use multiple POVs is if you were writing in omniscient. (and if so, you won't have a transition problem since you can be in any head any time you want)

2. Stick to the same POV style you've been using all along

If you've been using limited third, suddenly shifting to omniscient will likely jar the reader. Consistency is key. Establish what you plan to do and stick with it. So if you want to change POVs regularly, show that right from the start. Don't have five chapters in one POV and then start switching around.

3. Choose whichever POV is more relevant to the story

Often it's the one with the most to lose, but it might be the one who offers something new and interesting to the reader. You could also use another POV character to hide information if being inside a different character's head would reveal something through internalization you don't want revealed yet. (Use this sparingly, as tricking the reader all the time tends to make them angry)

4. Don't add a POV just because you need to show something your main characters aren't a part of

This frequently means the scene is either A) infodumping or telling, B) explaining a coincidence or contrivance that won't work unless the reader knows why it unfolds like that, or C) something that doesn't actually affect the protagonist's decisions but will be something sprung on them at a later date. More times than not, this type of scene is for the writer's benefit, not the reader's.

Now to the real meat of this question: how to transition with multiple POVs in the same chapter. There is no single way to do this, but there are some tricks to make it easier for the reader to stay with you.

1. Break the scene when you change POVs

This is the easiest, and a simple scene break shows the reader something has changed. However, simply breaking in the middle of a conversation will probably jar the reader, so you'd want to...

2. Have an obvious reason to switch POVs

If you're switching POVs there's a reason for it. You can no longer continue the story in the same POV and vital information is needed in another POV or the story won't work. Show or at least hint at that reason. A change in goals, contradictions between how two characters think or feel, one POV putting the other in conflict (either intentionally or unintentionally). Handoffs are critical here. How you hand the story over will determine how smoothly that transition goes.

I like to leave off with something hanging that makes the reader want to know what the other POV is thinking or how they'll see the current situation. If readers want to switch, the switch feels natural.

For example, in my current WIP, one POV character answers her door to find the other POV character standing there. She doesn't want him to come in because he might see things that would get her killed. The chapter ends with her noticing that something is wrong with him. Chapter breaks and picks up with him, and he notices something is also wrong with her. Then the new chapter begins.

What makes this handoff work is that readers already know why POV-A is worried about POV-B being there. They'll be curious to see if POV-B sees the clues, or figures out what's wrong. POV-B is offering information only he knows (and the reader is also curious about,) and seeing POV-A's reaction when she finds out will be more interesting because readers won't know for sure if she's being truthful or just pretending. Changing POVs raises the tension.

A handoff like this works nicely because it shifts the reader focus from one character to another. It's like turning to someone and asking, "So what do you think?" Focus shifts and the conversation continues with another person. It can also be helpful if you...

3. Change locations when you change POVs

Even if all the characters do is walk to another room, a switch in location gives you a chance to re-set the scene with a new POV. Movement signals the change. Which brings me to...

4. Make it very clear you've switched POVs in the first sentence

Unless it's been established that every scene break is a new POV, readers are going to expect the next scene to be in the same POV they were just in. Let them know right away that they're in a new character. Call the previous POV by name, say something only this POV would ever say or think, use a character trait, whatever says "this is X character" to clue the reader in.

However you switch, remember that there should be a reason to do so that moves the story forward in the best way possible. You want the switch to help build tension, advance plot, reveal new information about a character or situation, etc. If all the switch does is tell the reader something they "need to know for X to work" or anything similar, odds are the switch is for the wrong reason and you might want to rethink it.

No contests for the next couple of weeks, but they'll be back as soon as my To-Do List is a little smaller.

Real Life Diagnostics: Pacing and Character Arcs in a Short Story

2013-04-27T08:51:00.000-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Five

This week’s questions:

First, I'm curious what you think about the pacing and the level of detail, for a story that's going to take us through a big zombie slaughter at the 80-or-so% mark, before ending with a character moment. Is it too much, too little...too slow and charactery?

Also, Donna's character arc in the piece is from someone who puts her music first because she prefers to run away rather than face hard choices, to someone who puts her family first but will still hold on to her music. Is it necessary to establish All That up front? Or is a beginning that hints at it (her dedication to her act) an okay way to go about it? (FWIW, through the entire 675 word first scene, it's not established; it doesn't come into play until scene 2, when her husband dumps her by satellite phone)

Market/Genre: Fantasy/horror short story

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

The ship lurched, and Donna Annette Demoss's last hair curler tumbled from her makeup table. It rolled across the unpainted floor--past Trina's spotless area, past Samantha reading on the threadbare chaise lounge--and pinged against the wall beneath Cori Northington's cluttered table.

"Well, shitballs," Donna said.

Now she would be ass in the air fishing for it, probably just in time for Cori to come in and say something or other that could be said only by a twenty-year-old china doll with a head two sizes too big for her body, whose nightmares were the horrors of cellulite instead of paying for her kid's college in three years.

Samantha looked over the old People she was reading. "It's not like they're going to notice your hair, you know."

"I'll notice." Donna sighed and lowered herself to the floor before Cori's dressing table. Her knees protested. And she just knew her ass was pressing out against her sequined dress like a pair of Christmas hams.

In the shadows under the table, the curler was nowhere to be seen. Fallen into the gap between the wall and the floor, most likely.

Shitballs, indeed.

A wire hanger hung from the arm of Cori's chair. Donna thought about using it. Then she thought about having to deal with Cori for the next three days if she--horrors--bent her hanger.

She sighed, and retreated to her own area for a hanger that could be molded into shape. "If I know I don't look right, I'm not going to be able to put on a good show."

Samantha smirked. "And?"

"And they're my audience."

Samantha's laugh was an unexpectedly pretty thing in the unfinished cargo can. "No wonder they call you a diva. You actually care about this gig."

My Thoughts in Purple:

[The ship lurched,] interesting setting and Donna Annette Demoss's last hair curler tumbled from her makeup table. It rolled across the unpainted floor--past Trina's spotless area, past Samantha reading on the threadbare chaise lounge--and pinged against the wall beneath Cori Northington's cluttered table. A lot of names are thrown out in the opening paragraph. Perhaps not use Cori's last name to further establish that Donna is the POV?

"Well, shitballs," Donna said.

Now she would be ass in the air fishing for it, probably just in time for Cori to come in and say something or other that could be said only by a twenty-year-old china doll with a head two sizes too big for her body, whose nightmares were the horrors of cellulite instead of paying for her kid's college in three years.

Samantha looked over the old People she was reading. "It's not like they're going to notice your hair, you know."

"I'll notice." Donna sighed and lowered herself to the floor before Cori's dressing table. Her knees protested. And she just knew her ass was pressing out against her sequined dress like a pair of Christmas hams.

[[In the shadows under the table, the curler was nowhere to be seen. Fallen into the gap between the wall and the floor, most likely.

Shitballs, indeed.

A wire hanger hung from the arm of Cori's chair. Donna thought about using it. [Then she thought about having to deal with Cori for the next three days if she--horrors--bent her hanger. ] Samantha calls Donna a diva at the end, but Cori feels more like one.

She sighed, and retreated to her own area for a hanger that could be molded into shape.]] This section feels like a lot before she replies to Samantha, so it slows the pace. Perhaps shift some to after the response? "If I know I don't look right, I'm not going to be able to put on a good show."

Samantha smirked. "And?"

"And they're my audience."

Samantha's laugh was an unexpectedly pretty thing in the [unfinished cargo can.] interesting detail "No wonder they call you a [diva.] Small thing, but diva feels like someone who cares more about themselves, so this word doesn't feel right in this context You actually care about this gig."

The questions:

First, I'm curious what you think about the pacing and the level of detail, for a story that's going to take us through a big zombie slaughter at the 80-or-so% mark, before ending with a character moment. Is it too much, too little...too slow and charactery?
Hard to say. I like this opening, but it did feel a tad slow in the middle. Donna is a character who cares about something and is faced with a problem, even though that problem feels a little thin as it right now. A missing curler and annoying a co-worker doesn't feel like enough conflict, though I like that she's worrying about putting her kid through college. I suspect her response to Samantha about caring probably sets up the stakes a little more (if not, consider adding that). Of course she cares, because this matters to her for X reasons. (the idea, not the words)

There was a lot of focus on her butt and how it looked, which made Donna come across as a little shallow at first. It isn't until later you realize why she cares. Perhaps slip in another hint that performing is important to her early on, maybe replace one of the butt comments?

(More on pacing here)

I was curious about the ship and wanted a few more details there. At first I thought cruise ship, then it mentions being a cargo can, which was intriguing. I'm not fully grounded in the setting yet. You have the first scene to flesh that out, but a little more at the start wouldn't hurt. You could probably work it in with why she there's and show those elements of her personality you want to convey.

(More on setting the scene here)

Also, Donna's character arc in the piece is from someone who puts her music first because she prefers to run away rather than face hard choices, to someone who puts her family first but will still hold on to her music. Is it necessary to establish All That up front? Or is a beginning that hints at it (her dedication to her act) an okay way to go about it? (FWIW, through the entire 675 word first scene, it's not established; it doesn't come into play until scene 2, when her husband dumps her by satellite phone)
It's not necessary to do all of it on the first page, but you'd probably want a hint of who she is and what her personal issue is. She puts her music first, she avoids tough choices, she runs away from trouble. In a novel you'd have more time to establish that, but a short story needs to get to the point pretty fast. Setup and establishing the character arc is typically the first 10% of the story, ending with an opportunity to change (which the character usually ignores), so if this is a 6000-word story, you'd want All That in the first 600 words. (there's wiggle room on this percentage, it's just a guideline not a rule).

(More on character arcs and growth here)

Some of that is already here with her not wanting to deal with Cori, but I get more of a sense of her avoiding the hassle than running away from hard choices. She's also doing something that seems hard to help pay for college, which suggests to me she's putting family first.

If the husband dumps her later, perhaps foreshadow that? Maybe there's a message on her table to call her husband and she ignores that because she has a show to do. Show her putting music before family. Let her think about why this matters so much to her and why one silly curler is worth fighting for so she looks just right. If you can find a way to work her running from a hard choice, even better. Cori seems to be the perfect vehicle for that.

(More on foreshadowing here)

Maybe Donna is faced with dealing with Cori for the curler or going out on stage without looking the way she wants, and even though it's clear how much that matters to her, she backs down. That'll also leave some fear for the readers as to what Donna might do and what might happen now that she doesn't look (and feel) her best. That would hit around 600-ish words if your first scene is 675, so you'd be good on the structure/pacing ratio.

Overall it's pretty good, and I think a few word tweaks here and there and a few lines dropped in or moved around would get this where you want it. Just minor stuff to layer in the elements and tighter a tad.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

The Problem With "Revealing" Information That's Already in the Cover Copy

2013-04-26T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Opening scenes already have so much pressure put on them, but there's something I've been seeing a lot of lately.

An opening scene that "reveals" information stated in the cover copy as if it's a big secret.

For example, let's say your novel is about a town that's been hit by toxic nerve gas that's killed everyone under the age of twenty. Now the characters have to deal with this problem and the repercussions of it. Your cover copy might say something like...

When a tragic accident poisons a small town a kills everyone under the age of twenty, local doctor Jessica Halloway must find the cause before more fall ill and die. But as she searches for the cure, she uncovers a far more deadly source.

Every single person who reads this cover copy is going to know before they open the book what the problem is. Let's say the books starts with a scene where something crashes nearby, or a plane flies overhead and sprays stuff on the town. Characters notice it, worry about it perhaps, but it's no big deal overall. They go about their day and small clues start popping up, like kids being tired or acting odd. Then the next day, Mom is trying to wake the kids, and then starts freaking out, then her shock and grief at discovering dead kids, and it goes on to show doctors bewildered and other people having the same issue and chaos all over crying out what happened to our children?

Tragic, yes. Sad, sure. Dramatic, totally. Will the reader be sucked in? Odds are not so much.

No new information is being revealed, so there's nothing for readers to discover except who the characters are. They know the reason and are waiting for the actual story to start. The longer it takes to get there, the more impatient they'll be.

(More on first chapter false starts)

Now, I'm not saying skip the discovery part. That can be half the fun in a story like this, but if a piece of information is in the cover copy, trying to surprise readers with it isn't going to work. Dragging out false suspense won't be suspenseful at all, if the sole purpose is to reveal what readers already know.

There's a fine line between showing a situation and trying to use known information to create suspense. If you're unsure if your opening scene does this, ask yourself:

Does the scene end with the "shocking revelation" of the information stated in the cover copy?
Is the mystery of the scene all about discovering that information?
Is that revelation the only thing driving the scene?
Is the information hidden until the end and you have to do some fancy word gymnastics just to keep readers from knowing it?

If you answered yes to any of these, odds are your opening scene isn't doing enough to hook the reader. If you answered yes to more than one, that's a big red flag there's a problem.

(More on keeping readers hooked through story revelations)

All is not lost, however. To fix this, just add in a separate goal and stakes. Suggestions include:

What problem can your protagonist face before the information is revealed?
Is there a problem that might be viewed differently if readers know the information? (play with the dramatic irony)
Can you just cut that opening scene?
Can you shorten it significantly?
What other problems can be going on that this information makes harder or causes additional conflict?

Try looking at your story and finding other goals and motivations that aren't all about that revelation of information. Make that opening scene do more than just setup what readers already know.

Guest Author Stacy Green: Writing Close Point of View

2013-04-24T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Stacy Green, @StacyGreen26

I'd like to welcome Stacy Green to the blog today, to chat with us about one of my favorite things-- point of view. I'm a strong believer that if you nail POV, 99% of all your writing troubles will be solved, so this is something writers need to master as soon as possible.

Born in Indiana and raised in Iowa, Stacy earned degrees in journalism and sociology from Drake University. After a successful advertising career, Stacy became a proud stay-at-home mom to her miracle child. Now a full-time author, Stacy juggles her time between her demanding characters and supportive family. She loves reading, cooking, and the occasional gardening excursion. Stacy lives in Marion, Iowa with her husband Rob, their daughter Grace, and the family’s three obnoxious but lovable canine children. You can find out more on her website or Facebook at Stacy Green, Author

Take it away Stacy...

Point of view is a tricky beast, especially if you are writing in third person and have multiple points of view. And one of the hardest things to pull off is close point of view–in other words, getting inside a character’s head. In order to make a reader empathize with a character and walk in that character’s shoes, you’ve got to get deep into their thoughts.

With non-close point of view, there are no internalization or emotions. And those are the best ways to make your readers care about a character.

An example of non-close point of view:

Sick, Sherry closed the diary and put it back into the drawer. Then, Sherry slammed out of the bedroom, got in her car, and drove away with a sour expression on her beautiful face.

The example above is all about telling versus showing, and there’s nothing in two sentences that will make a reader feel connected to Sherry’s pain. Showing is one of the golden rules of good writing, and if we approach close point of view from that perspective, writing up close becomes much easier.

Back to the basics

I find the best way to pull off close point of view is by going back to the basic five senses: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. You may not always be able to use every one of these, but if you can incorporate a couple into your character’s thoughts and emotions, your reader will find it much easier to connect.I also like to use internal dialogue to bring the reader in.

Nausea rolled through Sherry until she tasted the bitter acid. The diary slipped from her numb hands and landed on the floor with a dull thud. She picked it up and threw it back into the drawer with enough force to rattle the nightstand. She pounded out of the bedroom, the impact in perfect cadence with her swirling thoughts.

How could he do this to her?

Her face pinched tight and clenched jaw aching, she drove away from the house.

In the second example, I’m showing you how Sherry felt. Sick can mean all sorts of things, but nausea and that awful acidic taste in the mouth are things we’ve all experienced. By having the diary fall and hit the floor, we’re adding the element of sound, and having the nightstand rattle creates a visual of how angry Sherry really is.

Instead of something generic like sour expression, which could mean anything from smelling something bad to eating a lemon, having Sherry’s face pinched tight and jaw clenching lets the reader see and feel exactly what she looks like.

And the internal dialogue is a favorite trick of mine, although it’s something to be used sparingly. But it is a great way to help the reader forget they are reading about someone else and as though the action is happening to them.

What’s in a name?

Finally, pronoun usage is key to strong close point of view. By using a character’s name repeatedly in a scene, you’re creating a distance between the character and the reader. The reader is less likely to connect when they are reading someone else’s name over and over. You want them to feel totally immersed in your story and invested in your characters, and an easy way to do that is to use the character’s name only when necessary, and then follow up with the proper pronoun.

Here’s an example from TIN GOD. In this scene, Jaymee has been talking for a couple of paragraphs, and she and Nick are the only two characters. They’re discussing a blow up Jaymee had with her bigoted father a few years ago.

“Jaymee, I didn’t mean–”

“No, let me finish.” She heard the tears in her voice and forced them down her aching throat. “After everything he put me through, he preaches family? I’d heard enough. I called him out like my mother should have done years before.”

Nick sighed. Not the exasperated kind most men let loose when a woman is crying and they have no idea what to say, but a deep, broken gust of heartache. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

“No, you can’t.” She silently begged for Nick to drop the subject. She didn’t want to tell him any more than she already had.

“And I wouldn’t blame you for seeking revenge on your father. He deserves it.” The stoplight at the corner of Rosaire Drive and Long Street turned yellow. Nick eased to a stop.

How dare he? Did he honestly think she would stoop so low as to use Rebecca’s murder to get back at her father? Furious, she twisted in the leather seat until she faced him. “What are you getting at?”

“Just saying I would understand.” Nick’s eyes shined with compassion and something that looked a lot like understanding. Her heart thumped erratically. Nick’s lack of judgment threw her out of sync.

An angry car horn jumpstarted her brain. Nick glared in the rearview mirror and hit the gas.

“I get what you’re saying,” Jaymee said. “And I promise, I wouldn’t take advantage of Rebecca and Lana like that.”

By going several paragraphs using just the pronouns “she” and “her,” it’s a lot easier for the reader to feel as though they’re a part of the story.

Writing strong close point of view can be challenging, but it is one of the very best ways to get your readers invested in your characters and your writing, especially if you’ve got a series out. If you struggle with close ups, start out by visualizing the scene using your five senses. Put yourself in your character’s shoes and think about how you’d feel, what you’d see, hear, etc. If you can do that, then so will your readers.

About Tin God

Getting pregnant as a teenager and being coerced into giving her baby up for adoption left a festering scar on Jaymee Ballard’s life. Trapped by poverty and without many allies, Jaymee nearly gives up hope of getting her daughter back after her best friend is murdered. Now, four years later, a wealthy woman with legal connections hires her as a housekeeper, and Jaymee gathers the courage to seek her help. But Jaymee’s last chance ends up in a puddle of blood in one of the historic antebellum mansions in Roselea, Mississippi. I just murdered your wife…again. An unsigned letter consisting of six horrifying words turns Nick Samuels stagnant life upside down. Stuck in emotional purgatory since his wife’s unsolved murder four years ago, Nick is about to self-destruct. The arrival of the letter claiming credit for his wife’s murder and boasting of a new kill sends Nick to Roselea, where he and Jaymee’s worlds collide. Jaymee and Nick realize exposing the truth about her daughter’s adoption is the only way to solve the murders. Up against years of deception, they rush to identify the killer before the evidence–and Jaymee’s daughter–are lost. But the truth doesn’t always set the guilt-ridden free. Sometimes, it destroys them.

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And the Winner of the Tension Contest is...

2013-04-23T13:38:00.002-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

I'm having a great time reading these contest entries. Some really great scene snippets and writing. This week was on tension, and it was fun to see what everyone came up with. I'm going to do something a teeny bit different this time, (since this is really all about helping writers improve) and give both why I liked the entry, and something the writer might try to improve a scene like this in the future.

Great job everyone!

Here are the finalists:

Amy Schaefer

“You didn’t know? Becks!” Jill shouted.

But I was already gone. Find Ben, find Ben, find…

“Rebecca, hello.” Aunt Miriam blocked my way. She dropped her voice. “So what’s this big news? Your mother won’t tell me - typical.”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “Have you seen Ben?”

She shrugged. “With the boys, I imagine, in the garage.”

“Thanks.” Over thirty and still “the boys.” I grinned until I remembered why I was running. Around the corner, past the kitchen, find Ben…

“Rebecca Lane, do not run in my house.” Mom couldn’t even see me – she was busy at the stove. How did she do that?

“Sorry,” I called. I careened around some younger cousins playing Marco Polo in the hallway, then threw open the door to the garage. No Ben.

Crap.

I ran outside, ignoring the mud squishing through my socks. Ben, I thought, for once in your life, please don’t tell.

As I rounded the corner to the backyard, pandemonium erupted on the patio. Everyone was hugging and crying. I backed against the wall.

“Becky!” Uncle John wrapped me in a bear hug. “You’re getting married!”

I looked over his shoulder. Ben was beaming at me. “I couldn’t wait any longer.” He didn’t look the least bit sorry.

Behind him, framed in the sliding door, stood my sister - hands clenched, holding back tears. Mom put an arm around her and looked daggers at me.

Why didn’t they tell me ahead of time that Liz was finally pregnant?

What I like about this one is that the tension is interspersed with humor, so it's tense, yet light, which isn't always easy to do. It offers a story question and makes you wonder what she needs Ben for and what she doesn't want him telling. Then it hits you with a hook that makes that first question carry even more weight. How does the pregnancy fit into the announcement? Suggestion to tweak: Until the very end when you hit the hook, the tension is the same level overall. It's the same question: why does she want Ben? I think you could raise the tension if you escalated what she was worried about more.

Silvia

The curtain to the ADULTS ONLY room whipped open. The man who came with Marshall stalked out with a bunch of videos. Marshall scooted away from the counter as the man dumped his stack in front of me. He threw down a twenty. It skated off the counter and landed on my lap.

“Will this be all, sir?” I said, sorting through the tapes.

This was sick stuff. It wasn’t my business to judge the customers. But this man had gross-looking stains on his Hulk shirt. You get all sorts of bums in this store, jobless grownups with the same stringy shoulder-length hair and sour smell. But this guy, there was something dangerously dazed about him.

“How much you got?” he said, gesturing at Marshall.

Marshall shrugged his shoulders, real slow and impudent. The man’s face didn’t even twitch. He grabbed Marshall by the waistband, pawing at his back pocket.

“Hey, hey, a twenty’s enough,” I said, halfway out of my seat.

The man dropped Marshall on the ground. He tossed another crinkled five onto the counter before he stalked back to the ADULTS ONLY room.

“Asshole,” Marshall muttered. He tugged his pants up.

I scanned the video tapes quickly. The women on the covers looked like they were in pain.

“Is he your dad?” I said.

“My aunt’s husband.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She became a unicorn,” Marshall said.

Marshall’s aunt’s husband came back with two more tapes. On the cover of the last one, there was a scared-looking boy our age getting shoved into a crate. It wasn’t my business to judge.

This one has a great sense of "things are not right" and I like how the narrator is trying not to judge, and how those two phrases frame the scene. It escalates nicely, with things going more and more wrong and leaving with a sense of badness that makes you curious what will happen with these two people. Suggestion to tweak: There's no sense that the protagonist is in any danger, so even though it's a tense scene, it's not personal enough to make the reader worry. A little more internalization from the narrator to see that judge struggle, and showing what he has at stake here, would make this quite gripping.

Emily J.

Finally. Alone in Emeline Greene's house.

Of course, I have no idea who Emeline Greene is, or was, only that her name is inscribed on the crumbling, granite steps. Like the rest of the house, the stone steps are in an advanced stage of neglect. The years have not been kind to this onetime Victorian beauty; and yet, an aura something grand and glamorous still clings to her weathered veneer.

In case you haven't guessed, I'm kind of obsessed with this house.

"Infested with raccoons!" My mother warned me. "Any fool who trespasses there had better get their rabies vaccines."

Trespasses. True, I am trespassing. But -- how does the expression go --something about asking for forgiveness instead of permission?

"Sorry Emeline," I say, and then laugh out loud. The house laughs too. Strange echo.

Shadows of leafy branches dance across the faded wallpaper. The pattern is still discernible in a few places, pink vertical stripes and tiny painted rosebuds. Enchanting. Just like I knew it would be.

I slink down a narrow hallway into the kitchen. A blanket of undisturbed dust masks every surface. A stout, porcelain pitcher is swaddled in cob webs. Seven wooden spoons of varying sizes are arranged neatly on the floor. What is that all about?

I step over the spoons, careful not to displace them. Something much too white pokes up out of the sink. I move closer. It's a chicken…a freshly dead one. And, it's arranged neatly, no blood, no missing feathers.

Definitely not raccoons.

I like the personal aspect of this one, and the sense that there is danger lurking just around the corner. It's a quieter scene, and builds slowly to the hook. The narrator is doing something she knows she shouldn't, and she finds evidence of something very wrong. Suggestion to tweak: Until the hook the tension is light, so it didn't pull me in as strongly as it could have. Perhaps add a little more concern from the narrator and uncertainty about what she's doing or what she hopes to find at the start. She can be hopeful about what she'll find if you want to keep the lightness of it, or start with worry to build to the drama.

Jillian

Amy had always been a Good Girl.

But now, edging toward her mother’s bedroom, she felt anything but good. The thin line of light beneath the door grew larger as she approached until finally it seized her bare feet. She raised her hand to knock, then stopped.

No.

Not yet. She couldn’t do it.

Soundlessly, Amy wilted, leaning against the wall beside the door. Her forehead pressed on the faded wallpaper, its tiny flowers mocking her misery. She closed her eyes. How had she gotten here, deflated, in a cold hallway listening to the canned laughter of a sitcom behind her mother’s door?

Images of that night passed before her for the hundredth time. A Ford Bronco. Tom Petty on the classic rock station. Eric’s lips, chapped from too many hours in the sun, his breath a cloud of Doublemint in her mouth, on her neck, on her skin. Leather seats, cold, then not. The open teeth of his zipper nipping at her thigh.

And then, later, the blood that never came.

Never.

Came.

Amy lifted her hand again. This time she was able to knock, but as soon as she did so, she wished she could take it back. At the call from her mother, she gripped the doorknob and turned. It took two tries—her hand was sweaty—but the door opened and Amy took a step into the lamplit room.

She had always been a Good Girl . . .

What I like about this one is the slow build of tension throughout. It's also personal, and the tension amps up the inherent conflict of the scene itself. The framing of the good girl comments really make me want to know why she isn't a good girl anymore. Suggestion to tweak: Honestly, this suggestion is personal taste, so it's not much of a suggestion (grin). I think this is very well done. The third person felt a little detached to me, and I'd have wanted a slightly tighter POV, maybe a touch more showing to take advantage of the emotions going on here.

And the winner is...

Jillian!

What pushed this one over the top for me was the line by line build up of tension. She had been a good girl, then next paragraph she isn't a good girl, so I wonder what she did to not be a good girl. Then she wonders if she should she knock or not, so I wonder if she will and why won't she. How did she get to this point? I again wonder what she did and what was it that built to this, that maybe it's not just a one-time mistake. The memory description is lovely, evocative without giving too much away. I get the sense of what happened, but nothing clear enough for me to know for sure--and I want to know. Then it slips in something unexpected--blood that never came. Now everything is colored with a creepier vibe and I'm not sure where this is going. Finally, the knock comes, but instead of getting a release from it, it's worse because the narrator immediate wishes she could take it back. Bu the time Amy is in the room, I'm dying to know what she did and how all these little details add up.

Jillian, just contact me at janice (@) janicehardy (dot) com for your critique.

Grats and fantastic job to everyone!

Are You Choosing the Best Words to Describe Your Setting?

2013-04-22T08:36:00.002-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Setting is a vital component of a novel, especially in the opening scene, but it's one of the more awkward things to write naturally. People don't stop and describe the landscape, so having characters who do can feel forced. It gets even more complicated when you think about how every scene needs its setting described so readers knows where they are.

To craft a realistic and evocative setting, you want to slip in those details naturally, so the reader gets a solid sense of the location without having it spelled out for them. But unlike world building--which uses the same basic techniques--setting the scene is often more about description. What things look like, where the characters are, what's in the room, the time of day. The goal is to ground the reader so they don't feel lost in a "white room" of ambiguity.

Let's say you want the reader to know a scene occurs on a street in a small town in Georgia during the fall. You could do a tradition scene setter like this:

Bob walked down Peachtree Avenue as the autumn wind blew through him.

Nothing wrong here, but what does this tell you about the setting aside from general details that could be any street anywhere? A guy walks down a street and wind blows. If he's in Canada, that's probably cold. Mexico will likely be warm. Arizona won't look the same as Boston, or even Georgia.

(More on how much you need to describe your setting)

General details pop into our heads first when we write a scene. Things that feel right to the image of that scene in our heads, but depend on that knowledge to fully understand the setting we've created. We use shorthand details that bring a lot more information to us than to a reader reading it for the first time.

Odds are the writer knows what Peachtree Avenue looks likes. She knows the temperature and velocity of the wind. She knows Bob's reaction to it and what he does when it hits him. She pictures the leaves and the chill in the air and a dozen or so other details. She also assumes that everyone who reads the word "autumn" pictures these same things.

Not always.

(More on how setting can affect your story)

I grew up in South Florida. There were no falling leaves, cold breezes, or any other stereotypical autumn details. Autumn was hot, and basically the same as any other day. I picture Bob walking down a street in shorts, his arms wide to cool himself off in that wind.

Reader/writer disconnect.

Sure, readers aren't stupid, and most folks are going to picture autumn as the writer intended, but it's probably never going to feel real to them. Readers aren't likely to get lost in this world and immerse themselves in the story. In critiques, there's a good chance the author will get feedback like: "The setting didn't feel real to me" or "I never felt grounded in this world" or even "I just never connected to the character."

(More ways to ground readers in your world)

To help readers connect to and get lost in your setting, try thinking about details unique to your story, or ones that haven't been used dozens of times before.

Fall (common): Leaves falling, leaves changing, cooler air washing away the summer heat.

Fall (uncommon): The time changing (fall back), the new TV season, breaking out different clothes, starting school, football, holidays, cinnamon smell in the grocery store.

All these details came to me with just a little thought, and I find them much more interesting and evocative than traditional, generic autumn setting details. The more I pinpoint my setting, the more detailed and specific (and unique) I could make these details to my novel.

(More on describing what the reader won't assume)

Grab a blank sheet of paper (or screen) and take a look at your own setting.

Write down the setting. (short answer: a street in New York, Geveg, 1672 Mexico, high school)

Write down the first details that hit you when you think about this setting.

Picture this setting in your head and think about why you choose it for your novel. Look past the basics and really think about this place.

Now write down the details you found after looking closer.

Picture your POV character. Put them in the scene and look out through their eyes.

Write down the details they see.

Odds are you've come up with a lot more interesting details that carry not only setting information, but character and theme information as well. Details were noticed because they meant something to the POV character. Elements were found that excited you about the setting in the first place. Facts that work with your story or theme appeared. Whatever emerged, it's probably richer than the first things that popped into your head.

The first details will likely be the same as most of your readers. Because of that, the scene can feel flat, typical, or just plain boring. Readers have seen it before and it offers them nothing new.

Pull out unusual details and you surprise them. A typical setting becomes fresh, perspectives become interesting, and readers pay more attention.

Writing exercise time!

In 250 words or less, describe a Spring setting

But here's the catch--you can't use traditional Spring words or images. No flowers, no bright green, no new growth. Look for the unusual and personal way your character would describe the setting they're in.

Post your entry in the comments section. Deadline for entries is next Monday, April 29, at noon, EST. I'll choose the winner and post the finalists on Tuesday, April 30th.

Winner gets a 1000-word critique. Previous winners are ineligible to win, but they can still do the exercise if they want. You can even do the exercise even if you don't want a critique (not everyone has something ready). Just say you're doing it for fun and I won't count you.

Real Life Diagnostics: Why Isn't This Beginning Working?

2013-04-21T06:30:00.000-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Five

This week’s questions:

I'm looking for some advice because I've gotten so close with this story a few different times. However, the beginning just keeps bogging me down, and I don't know what I'm even looking for anymore. Some editors replied the story was a bit slow for them, so I'm wondering if you could shed some light on the beginning few paragraphs.

Market/Genre: Unspecified

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

Amelia Beckett, who had the unlined skin and supple body of a girl about seventeen, took the ramp off the Liberty Bridge to the Boulevard of the Allies then into downtown. Nothing extraordinary about that, of course; no one would think twice. But what they didn't know was that that particular brand-new ruby red Nissan Maxima was her 113th vehicle. Now that could be cause for some surprise. Amelia herself, however, found it very reasonable. After all, she'd had a car since the moment they were invented. Add to that her love for taking very long drives at literally all hours (which allowed her to exceed 100,000 miles in half the time it took for the average person) and her penchant for buying a new car like she was buying a new pair of socks, and well, 113 was beginning to sound pretty reasonable.

And Amelia loved when things were reasonable.

A light drizzle was coming down, and her windshield wipers made a soft, consistent thunk as she searched for a parking space. It was the end of morning rush hour, but the streets were still jam-packed and traffic was slow. Amelia finally found a spot on Grant Street, one of the city's main roads that was always busy no matter the hour of the day. She parallel parked smoothly, but for the four seconds it took her to slide in, horns honked, people yelled. It was as if she were an iceberg in the middle of a churning ocean.

My Thoughts in Purple:

Amelia Beckett, [who had the unlined skin and supple body of a girl about seventeen,] This detail feels shoved in, and it was a bit jarring to get hit with it right off the bat. took the ramp off the Liberty Bridge to the Boulevard of the Allies then into downtown. Nothing extraordinary about that, of course; no one would think twice. [But what they didn't know was that that particular brand-new ruby red Nissan Maxima was her 113th vehicle.] feels a little detached Now that could be cause for some surprise. Amelia herself, however, found it very reasonable. After all, she'd had a car since the moment they were invented. Add to that her love for taking very long drives at literally all hours (which allowed her to exceed 100,000 miles in half the time it took for the average person) and her penchant for buying a new car like she was buying a new pair of socks, and well, 113 was beginning to sound pretty reasonable. Most of the focus in this opening paragraph is on stuff, and explaining to the reader why it matters. Also, if she buys a car like she buys socks, would she really describe it in such detail? She has a new red car. Isn't that all she'd care about?

[And Amelia loved when things were reasonable.] cute

A light drizzle was coming down, and her windshield wipers made a soft, consistent thunk as she searched for a parking space. It was the end of morning rush hour, but the streets were still jam-packed and traffic was slow. Amelia finally found a spot on Grant Street, one of the city's main roads that was always busy no matter the hour of the day. She parallel parked smoothly, but for the four seconds it took her to slide in, horns honked, people yelled. It was as if she were an iceberg in the middle of a churning ocean. This entire paragraph describes her finding a parking space, and isn't moving the story or offering the reader a problem to be solved or a question to be answered.

The question:

What's missing from the beginning?
In a word--conflict. There's nothing here to grab a reader's attention and pique their curiosity. It's all description and explanation about someone readers know nothing about, and aside from one line (she liked reasonable) there's no sense of character. All the focus is on her car, what she looks like, and where she parks. The fact that she's over 100 years old is getting lost in there.

(More on narrative focus)

Knowing absolutely nothing about the story but this snippet, I suspect you're starting in the wrong place. This feels like throat clearing, setting up the character and the situation before the story starts. Because of that, there's no goal or problem to hook the reader.

(More on knowing where to start your novel)

What is Amelia trying to do as this scene opens? What's her goal? What's in the way of that goal? (her conflict) What's at stake if she fails? I know that seems like a lot to put in 250 words, but you can do a lot in a little, and those elements are what will hook the reader.

(More analysis of a first page)

When does Amelia first encounter whatever problem sets her on the path of the novel's core conflict? Either the inciting event or the problem that leads to the inciting event. Odds are that's your opening scene. You want to start with a problem and conflict, and then use that to get your protagonist to the main issue of the novel.

(More on inciting events)

There's also a detached feel here, which could either be telling, or a third omniscient narrator. There are phrases that only an outside narrator would use (like " who had the unlined skin and supple body of a girl about seventeen") and it's pulling me out of the story to have details explained to me. I'm not seeing Amelia live her life and getting a sense of who she is, but I'm being told details about her life that don't matter yet since I don't know her.

(More on telling and narrative distance)

I also suspect lots of that information is going to be redundant. Is she's that old, that's probably something mentioned on the cover copy of the novel. She's a supernatural being, she's cursed, she's something that's likely part of your hook. If so, readers will go into this knowing that, so spending the opening paragraph telling them she's lived a long time and owned a lot of cars doesn't give the reader any new information to hook them.

I love the being reasonable line, so perhaps there's something to work with there. Maybe there's a way to show her with a problem, and show her reasonable side in a way that also shows she's lived a long time and gives a sense of her situation. Someone with that lifespan probably looks at the world very differently than a normal human. Show her being so old and all that comes with that as she lives her life and handles a normal problem for her.

(More on goals, conflicts, and stakes)

Overall, I think the reason this isn't grabbing agents is because there's no conflict or sense of a character with a problem. It's likely that your true opening is farther into the book and starting there will fix it, or you need to add a problem for Amelia to deal with now that will get her to the inciting event. Once you add that conflict, I think you'll start getting the response you're looking for.

Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

Real Life Diagnostics: Is This Tone Too Literary for YA?

2013-04-20T08:49:00.000-04:00

Critique By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Real Life Diagnostics is a weekly column that studies a snippet of a work in progress for specific issues. Readers are encouraged to send in work with questions, and I diagnose them on the blog. It’s part critique, part example, and designed to help the submitter as well as anyone else having a similar problem.

If you're interested in submitting to Real Life Diagnostics, please check out these guidelines.

Submissions currently in the queue: Six

This week’s questions:

Is the tone too literary for YA? How can we retain the prettiness of our words while still paring things down?

Market/Genre: Young Adult

On to the diagnosis…

Original text:

Miss Rosenow walked me down the path, leaving me at a row of pear trees. The buzzing of bees about the fruit mirrored the warm humming from her rosy company. But by the time I stood at Celia’s grave I was sober again. And furious.

Her resting place under the junipers was marked by a sunken slab of dank stone. The area seemed to be a no-man's-land just beyond the cemetery, in fact. Her grave lay almost entirely claimed by dense branches and needles and plants that thrive in shadow. Ivy matted the ground; its purple bloom might have been pretty in another setting. Tangled with last autumn’s un-raked leaf mold and inhabited with rude ferns, the scene appalled me.

Did I have a right to my indignation? The neglect was my own. Far from finding ‘closure,’ I was confronted with the result of my cowardice. I should have stood up to her father.

Hardly a place for contemplation, this spider’s nest, I knelt and abandoned the swaddled innocence of flowers on Celia’s headstone and rose to my feet determined to get some answers.

My Thoughts in Purple:

Miss Rosenow walked me down the path, leaving me at a row of pear trees. The buzzing of bees about the fruit [mirrored the warm humming from her rosy company.] Does this mean she was humming? But by the time I stood at Celia’s grave [I was sober again.] Does this mean he was drunk before? And furious.

Her resting place under the junipers was marked by a sunken slab of dank stone. The area seemed to be a no-man's-land just beyond the cemetery, in fact. Her grave lay almost entirely claimed by dense branches and needles and plants that thrive in shadow. Ivy matted the ground; its purple bloom might have been pretty in another setting. Tangled with last autumn’s un-raked leaf mold and inhabited with [rude ferns] love this, [the scene appalled me.] This tells me, and the description is nice, but I'm not getting a sense of fury (or any emotion, really) from the narrator yet.

Did I have a right to my indignation? [The neglect was my own.] Feels a little passive and detached. [Far from finding ‘closure,’ I was confronted with the result of my cowardice.] This doesn't feel teen to me, but older, more retrospective. How would someone confronted with their cowardice feel? Try getting the same idea across without stating it outright [I should have stood up to her father.] I like the sense of regret here

[Hardly a place for contemplation, this spider’s nest, I knelt and abandoned the swaddled innocence of flowers on Celia’s headstone and rose to my feet determined to get some answers.] Reads awkwardly, and doesn't sound like a teen. It's also telling a bit.

The questions:

Is the tone too literary for YA?
I don't think it's an issue with the tone so much as voice. I'm not hearing a YA voice from this yet, and it reads more like an adult narrator. For example, the phrasing feels detached and bit reserved despite the narrator being furious. The narrator also implies they're responsible for the upkeep of the grave, which again skews this to an older person. Even the mention of the father could be any age, a husband regretting not standing up to his father-in-law.

I'd suggest inserting more teen voice in this. Not slang or anything like that, but a sense that this person is a teen. "The neglect was my own" doesn't feel like something a teen would say. Perhaps, "this was my fault," or "I neglected her grave." Something more personal and not so detached. Teens tend to be in the moment, and focus on how they feel and what it means to them.

(More on voice)

You might also consider adding more internalization to help convey the emotions more. That will also help get more teen voice in since that's where a lot of it comes from. Another thing you could try is adding references to teen things. Is the narrator carrying a backpack for school? Did they come here on a bike? Is there something teen related they think about that Celia would have liked or hated? Things like that.

(More on internalization)

One more thing you could consider is switching to an omniscient third person narrator. You'd be able to keep your narrator more literary sounding and your teen more teen sounding. That has its own share of issues, as it could come across more adult sounding, but it could also allow you to keep the style you prefer in most of the narrative.

(More on omniscient narrators)

How can we retain the prettiness of our words while still paring things down?
You don't need to pair things down for YA, you just need to write a story with relatable teen characters dealing with relatable teen problems. I can't tell what that might be here from just this snippet, but teens deal with death and that's an age where they've very curious about it. And guilt over not helping a friend in need who later died is a pretty powerful premise and one some of your readers could be struggling with.

I'd suggest reading a stack of literary YA to get a feel for what's being done out there. YA doesn't group books in the store like adult novels, so you can't just find a "literary" section. But here are some suggestions:

Anything that got a Printz Award nod or win. They tend to lean toward literary works.

The White Darkness by Geraldine Mccaughrean

The Fault in Our Stars, Looking for Alaska, and An Abundance of Katherines by John Green (probably anything by him, actually)

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (This is a good example if you wanted to change POV styles)

Almost anything by Laurie Halse Anderson, Jennifer Donnelly, MT Anderson, or Meg Rosoff.

There's a wide variety of voices in these, but they all still maintain that teen voice as well as being beautifully written and dealing with more literary plots and stories.

"What is literary fiction?" will get you more answers than you can parse, but generally speaking, YA literary is a tad different from the adult versions. Adults will enjoy a literary style just to admire the beauty of the words. Teens typically need a little more. You'll find folks out there who say all contemporary YA is literary YA, but I'd disagree. Contemporary YA can have light, fun reads that aren't literary, and genre YA can be literary in tone and style. It casts a wide net.

YA literary tends to be very character driven, with poetic or beautiful writing and language. It's more than just lovely descriptions of things or colorful metaphors. There's a rawness to the emotions and a sense of struggling to understand, and they frequently opens doors to deep discussions about life and issues. It's very compelling in most cases.

I think as long as you nail the YA voice, you can be as literary as you want. Teens enjoy a wide variety of stories, as long as they can relate to the stories and characters. Thanks to our brave volunteer for submitting this for me to play with. I hope they–and others–find it helpful. I don’t do a full critique on these, (just as it pertains to the questions) and I encourage you to comment and make suggestions of your own. Just remember that these pieces are works in progress, not polished drafts, so be nice and offer constructive feedback.

How to Format Remembered Dialog

2013-04-19T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Characters remember conversations and things said. When they do, odds are it's important to the story and the scene, but you don't want it to read like you just crammed the information in there. Like the rest of your narrative, you want it to flow seamlessly and read naturally. Which can be tough when a thought or memory hits a character out of the blue.

How you format remembered dialog varies, same as internal dialog. A lot depends on how you're using it, how much there is, and the style you prefer. You can also mix and match, using, say, introductory phrases and italics, or italics with the narrative.

One thing that's fairly consistent though, is a clue that this is a memory. Rarely do you just see remembered dialog dropped in with no explanation at all, because then it looks like an internal thought or actual dialog and throws the reader.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. "Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

Doesn't that read like something Bob just now said? Which makes no sense because readers have no idea who he's talking to or what he's talking about. Maybe they'll remember someone else told him that, maybe not. A little head's up for the reader is needed.

Option 1: An Introductory Phrase

The easiest way to let reader's know a line is remembered dialog is to tell them. It reminds the reader about the memory, and then shows the memory.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. Miguel's words echoed in his mind. "Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

One thing to be aware of here, is that many memory introductions have become a little clichéd because they're used so much (yep, even I use them). Words echo in minds, pop into heads, strike from nowhere. Don't do any word gymnastics to avoid it (that only makes it worse), but it's not a bad idea to think about what words you use for this type of phrase. Try to be fresh and link it to something that fits your story or character's personality when possible.

(More on word gymnastics)

If you don't like introductory phrases, you could always try...

Option 2: Remind the Reader

Another easy way is to reminder the reader someone said something when the POV character remembers it.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. "Watch out when you hit the bend," Miguel had told him. "Big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

Same clue and reminder about where the dialog came from, but it flows a little better and fits the familiar dialog format. However, be aware that breaking into dialog could still make the reader think this is something Bob is saying. They'll see the tag pretty quickly, but this could still throw some readers.

Option 3: Use Italics

You could also visually clue in the reader of the remembered dialog by using italics with your reminder.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. "Watch out when you hit the bend," Miguel had told him. "Big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

The italics make this clear, and it's another familiar visual clue that this is an internal thought, not actual dialog. You could also drop the reminder completely.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. "Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

This type is trickier because it relies on the reader remembering who said the dialog. But you can always add a few clues without saying outright "he remembered who said this."

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before a sharp bend went into the woods. Miguel was right. It did look like a curve. "Watch out when you hit the curve--big crawler infestation near there."

He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

Italics are handy for anything you want to emphasize, and remembered dialog is usually remembered for important, about-to-be-relevant moments.

Option 4: Make it Part of the Narrative

Just like internalization, make the remembered dialog sound like the character's voice. It's less intrusive and you can avoid the typical clichés or common word packages.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. What had Miguel said again? Oh right. Watch out when he hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

The remembered dialog is there, but it flows with Bob's thoughts and narrative.

(More on word packages)

Option 5: Make it its Own Line

You can also put the remembered dialog on its own line, separating it from the rest of the narrative.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods.

"Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. He gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward.

It fits with the traditional turn-taking structure of dialog, as the words someone else speaks get their own line. You have additional options, as you can tag it with the speaker's name, or an introductory phrase.

"Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there," Miguel had told him.

Miguel's words came back to him. "Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bolts From the Blue

Sometimes remembered dialog does into come out of nowhere to give a character the information they need just when they need it most. A common problem here is that can be jarring to the reader if there's no reason for it. Memories need triggers.

Bob crept through the woods, ears alert for moans, groans, and any branches breaking that he didn't break.

"Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. How far was he from the river?

There's nothing to make Bob remember this dialog at this moment, so it feels awkward. But if he comes across water first, then it's a logical trigger for him to remember this line.

Bob crept through the woods, ears alert for moans, groans, and any branches breaking that he didn't break. A soft gurgle--not a zombie--whispered ahead. Water?

"Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

Bob nodded. Right. Must be the river Miguel was talking about. He gripped the shotgun tighter.

When a character needs to remember something they're not trying to remember--like a sudden realization--make sure you work up to it and add triggers so readers can see the steps that led subconsciously to that sudden thought.

Formatting Longer Conversations

Sometimes a scene requires an entire conversation to be remembered. If it's more than a few lines, consider careful if it's needed at all. If the words have already been reader by the reader, replaying the entire thing will feel repetitious, and a quick summary will likely flow better. But if this memory is more flashback of something not seen before, seeing the entire thing can work.

(More on flashbacks)

Option 1: An Introductory Phrase

The same principals apply, only this time, you'd want to clue the reader in on entering the memory as well as leaving it.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. It was just like Miguel had said. "Watch out when you hit the bend--big crawler infestation near there."

"How many?" he'd asked.

"Up to a hundred. They feed off what gets washed down the river."

"Unpleasant image."

"An unpleasant end if you forget."

Bob gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward. "Don't worry," he muttered. "I didn't."

Option 2: Remind the Reader

Again, same way as shorter memories.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. "Watch out when you hit the bend," Miguel had told him. "Big crawler infestation near there."

"How many?" he'd asked.

"Up to a hundred. They feed off what gets washed down the river."

"Unpleasant image."

"An unpleasant end if you forget."

Bob gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward. "Don't worry," he muttered. "I didn't."

Option 3: Use Italics

This is one of my personal favorites because it's very clear this is not the main narrative.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. "Watch out when you hit the bend," Miguel had told him. "Big crawler infestation near there."

"How many?"

"Up to a hundred. They feed off what gets washed down the river."

"Unpleasant image."

"An unpleasant end if you forget."

Bob gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward. "Don't worry," he muttered. "I didn't."

The drawback to this format is that italics are hard to read in large chunks, so be cautious about how long your conversation is.

Option 4: Make it Part of the Narrative

Sometimes it's more effective to summarize just the important elements of a past conversation.

Bob stopped at the edge of the creek, just before it curved into the woods. What had Miguel said again? Oh right. Watch out when he hit the bend. Some kind of crawler infestation near it. Hard to imagine hundreds of legless zombies out here, but Miguel was right about the unpleasant end--body parts from animals and people bumped against the shore where the river curved. A buffet for crawlers.

Bob gripped the shotgun tighter and started forward. He was nobody's lunch.

This is another of my favorites, as you can use past dialog to foreshadow something you know you'll want to focus on or describe. This doesn't work as well if readers never saw the conversation, but it can be an effective way to summarize a conversation the characters may have had off-screen at an earlier date. For example, if you skipped it then because it would had move impact describing it or seeing it as it happens.

The most important thing about remembered dialog is clarity. Readers need to know a line or scene is a memory so they don't get confused. Whatever format fits your style and flows seamlessly into your narrator is the best type to choose.

Which style is your favorite?

From Brain to Bookshelf: An Author’s Timeline

2013-04-17T06:30:00.000-04:00

By Tiffany Reisz, @TiffanyReisz

Two years ago at RWA 11, author Tess Gerritsen said that the reason people like reading procedurals and medical thrillers is because “readers like secrets and insider knowledge.” Someone on Twitter recently asked me about my writing process with my publisher, and I remembered Gerritsen’s comment. For those who aren’t published authors, the process of writing, editing, and publishing a book may seem like some kind of mystical voodoo. I know it did for me before my publishing career began. I thought I’d throw back the curtain and give the curious an insider look at the timeline and process of how a novel goes from brain to bookshelf.

July 24th, 2012 – My debut novel The Siren, is officially released. On that very day, my publisher and my agent strike a deal for four more books and ten short stories in my Gothic erotic thriller series THE ORIGINAL SINNERS. Book four, which I’ve tentatively titled The Mistress, needs turned in by December 15th. I have five months to write 110,00 words.

Let the games begin.

August 1, 2012 - THE FIRST DRAFT

This first draft lives in my head and on tiny scraps of paper. It’s the idea of the book, and before I start writing these ideas down, I will know how the book begins, how it ends, and the main conflict that will drive the middle. In The Mistress, I have to wrap up the first quartet in my Sinners series. This book will mark the last of the present-day adventures of my feisty Dominatrix leading lady Mistress Nora and set up the prequel books that will constitute the next part of the series. Ending a series is a huge challenge. Every fan and reader has different hopes and dreams for all the characters. I’ve known for three years how to end the book, how to make it perfect so that readers will feel joyful, satisfied, and excited to imagine what the next move is for all the Sinners. I even know the last line of this book, which consists of only two words. Now I just have to put the 109,998 words of the rest of the book in front of them.

September 1, 2012 - THE SECOND DRAFT

I started writing The Mistress at the beginning of September. I give myself a 3K a day writing goat (yes, I mean “goat,” not goal—goals are intimidating and goats are fuzzy). For two weeks I write my little heart out until I hit a wall at about 25,000 words. I can’t go any further. Something’s not working. I send it to my trusty beta reader—author Miranda “First Eyes” Baker. I always run the first few chapters of my books by her, because she’s not afraid to tell me I’m doing it wrong. Guess what? Miranda says. You’re doing it wrong. I have an extra character I have to get rid of and the story starts in the wrong place. I hit delete and start over on page one without the extra character and in an entirely different place in the story. Every book I’ve ever written has had a similar false start. Deleting thousands of words is simply part of the process.

Bad chapters are in the trash and now we’re cooking with gas! Once I’ve got the initial problems settled and the book rearranged in my head, I take off writing again and with my 3000 word a day goat, I’m finished with the first complete draft by mid-November.

It is, to say the least, a jacked-up piece of shit. But at least I have something to work with.

December 1st-December 7th - THE THIRD DRAFT

For two weeks, I let the book set untouched. It’s almost Thanksgiving and Christmas so I had a lot to do. I still had my day job then and was working full-time and traveling a great deal for work. During this two weeks I tried not to think about the book. I want to read it dispassionately as if a stranger wrote it. I reread the book and made some major changes.

The third draft is where the magic happens, when the straw gets spun into gold. This draft is when I take boring scenes and make them not boring. Example: In one scene a character sits and thinks about something important. I need this scene so my readers will know what this character is planning. In the third draft, instead of sitting and thinking, he gets a phone call from his lover and the same information is revealed through the conversation instead of boring internal monologue. The third draft is also when I amp up the sex scenes in my book. A scene without sexual tension will now have sexual tension. A scene without conflict will now have conflict. I do a punch-up on my own book as I add jokes wherever I can. I delete unnecessary scenes. No need to show the action if you can get away with showing the aftermath. In other words, don’t show the drinking; show the hangover. And most importantly, I weave all the loose threads together. In the beginning of The Mistress, a character confesses to eavesdropping on my leading lady Nora while she’s having sex. Later in the book, I show Nora eavesdropping on the eavesdropper during an intimate moment. It’s the third draft where I create the moments of symmetry like this one that makes my careful readers go A-HA!

After cleaning up the mess of the book, I send it to four trusted beta readers and start chewing on my hands as I await the verdict from the first four readers of my newest book.

December 7th-December 14th - THE FOURTH, FIFTH, SIXTH, AND SEVENTH DRAFTS

In about one week, I have the book back from the betas. Two of the four beta readers have declared The Mistress the best in the series so far. Relief! But it still needs work. I read through my betas’ notes and make suggested changes creating a new draft with each new set of notes. My beta readers are all published writers—three women, one man, four different perspectives. If two betas disagree over a scene, I trust my own gut to decide what to do. If two or more beta readers agree on something, I do what they say even if it goes against my gut as my gut is not always right. After creating a new version based on my four beta readers’ suggestions, I email the finished draft to my editor on December 14th, one day before it’s due.

And then I wait. And while I wait, I write.

February 5, 2013 - THE EIGHTH DRAFT

My editor returns The Mistress to me with her suggestions. This is a bullet-point list of about ten comments, questions, and concerns. My editor does not line edit and unpublished writers should take note of this. Very few editors do line edits. You have to make your sentences perfect. No one else will do that for you. What my amazing editor, Susan Swinwood, does is point out weak areas in my draft and asks me to shore them up. I turn The Mistress back in with all my editor’s changes. My editor has never asked me to change the content of my books. All the sex, sin, incest, and BDSM content remains unaltered and uncensored. My editor is a dream come true. She likes dark books and doesn’t mess with my sentences. I’d give her a kidney if she needed one.

March 25th-April 10th - THE NINTH, TENTH, ELEVENTH, AND TWELTH DRAFTS

The final of The Mistress hits my inbox. My publisher, Harlequin, uses a process called Author Alterations for final edits—AAs for short (also because you need AA after going through your AA edits). This is the final time I can make any changes to the book at all. I have two weeks to get final changes back to my editor.

The AA edit version has line numbers on every single page. The way I make changes is by writing in an Excel Spreadsheet something like “Page 21, Line 17 - change “Jaguar” to “Ferrari.” The AA edits are where we catch continuity errors between all the drafts. It’s also where we catch wrong words and other minor errors. No substantial revisions can be made at this point, no scenes deleted, no chapters moved. After this round, the book is set in wet clay with only proofreading remaining.

Once again, I send the book to beta readers. Three of them this time plus me makes for four more drafts. These fresh sets of eyes read through the book and each one of them finds at least one huge error that was missed by me, my editor, the first copyeditor, and my four original beta readers. When I turn the AA edits into my editor, there are over 400 lines of changes.

While waiting for my editor’s notes on The Mistress, I’ve already written the first draft of book five in my series, The Priest. I try to write at least a partial draft of the next book in the series while waiting for the edits on the previous book. Not only does it keep me sane to stay busy writing, it allows me to weave the current book and the next book in the series together. In book five, The Priest, a new character showed up out of nowhere, an old suitor from my leading lady Nora’s college days. I decide to put a reference to this new character into book four, The Mistress, to strengthen the continuity and connection between the books four and five. On April 10th, I email the editor who is inputting my changes on The Mistress and ask her to change a final passage of dialogue to reference this new character.

And that’s it. It’s in the can. I, the author, cannot make a single solitary change to my manuscript again. It’ll go through many rounds of proofreading and typesetting at my publisher, but I won’t see the book again until it’s printed and shows up in a box on my doorstep.

On July 24th, 2012 we sold the book.
On April 10th, 2013, I finished the final draft of the book.
On July 30th, 2013, The Mistress will hit bookshelves.

From brain to bookshelf in twelve months and twelve drafts.

And since I’m under contract for four more books, it’s lather, rinse, repeat. Again and again and again...

Tiffany Reisz is the author of THE ORIGINAL SINNERS series from Mira Books. She lives in Lexington, Kentucky with her boyfriend, author Andrew Shaffer, and two cats who should probably get therapy (the cats, not the boyfriend). Her debut novel THE SIREN was named the RT Book Reviews Magazine Editor’s Choice for Best Erotic Romance of 2012. You can find her on Twitter @tiffanyreisz or in her office writing drafts one through twelve of her latest book.

An the Winner of the Tone Contest is...

2013-04-16T07:38:00.000-04:00

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

This was the toughest contest yet for me to judge. There were so many great entries, and some were really good snippets, even if they didn't quite hit the right tone. The ones that stood out were the ones that had a sense that something was about to go wrong (or go right in the case of the happy excited ones). Overall, I liked how pretty much everyone used the six words naturally in the text so they didn't feel awkward or shoved in.

Great job everyone!

Here are the finalists:

Rachel6

Jess whirled the plates out of the cupboard and into the basket. Ten minutes and he would be home. Ten minutes. She sang the words to herself as she sliced up the meat and cheese. Ben always put cheese on his sandwiches.

The dog sat up and begged. Laughing, she fed him a piece of ham. For today, they could break house rules. Ben was coming home.

Odds were he would be in uniform. He would walk in, tall, handsome, clean-cut, and he would tell her stories of his friends and the war, stories of blood and laughter. And she would laugh and gasp at all the right moments, and when he’d told all his stories, he’d lean in…

Picnic blanket! She dashed to the hall closet and tumbled out half the quilts in an effort to find the right blanket. No time to refold now; she stuffed them back in and forced the door shut. Something to hold the blanket…no, they could just grab a rock or two from the riverbed.

Cupcakes, twin bottles of Coke, at the last moment she remembered the paper napkins. And that was everything. Everything except Ben.

She opened the window and leaned out, gazing up. Even the sky cooperated today, for there were no clouds to be seen.

“Hello, lovely!”

She nearly overbalanced at the halloo. “Ben! Oh Ben!” He grinned at her and lifted a hand in greeting. In his other hand, he held a bouquet of flowers.

What I like about this one is that it's both happy and foreboding. Jess is clearly excited about Ben coming home, but there's also a sense that something bad might happen and he won't show up, or she'll get bad news (or maybe it's just my dark nature reading into it, lol) I also like the small details--breaking rules for the dog, making sure there's cheese because Ben likes cheese, laughing and gasping in all the right places. Not only is she excited, but it's influencing her actions.

Myka Reede

A wolf’s howl pierced the darkness, and Logan failed in his third attempt to calm his churning stomach. Hours earlier, the butchered mess at his feet could’ve passed as Mary’s twin. Then again, every blond haired lassie reminded him of his baby sister. He imagined the pair frolicking in a meadow full of wildflowers and laughter. Every little girl danced, right?

The naked waif strewn in the mud taunted back silent accusations that scalded his eardrums.

He coughed and grimaced at his fidgeting men. With a muttered curse, he forced himself to refocus on the blood-soaked body. Similar to the other victims, her eyes appeared as two milky clouds, staring into an eternal abyss. The mutation hid her eye coloring and concealed her final moments from his dauthi probing.

Had she seen the creature? Had she felt each slicing gash? Had she cried for help?

While the rest of his unit established a defensible perimeter, he staggered from the lantern-lit scene and collapsed against a nearby rock. Despite the night air freezing his nostrils, he wiped the sweat pouring from his brow. With his head bent, he whispered in his native tongue, “I promise you, Mary. I’ll slaughter the beast. I’ll avenge this innocent’s death … and yours too ... somehow. Just forgive me ... please.”

This one has a great scary tone, though it's not quite as foreboding as some other entries. If Mary wasn't already dead it actually would have been more so, because I loved the "could have been Mary" line at the start. That totally made me think she was a potential victim and gave it a great sense of unease. So does the terrific "every little girl danced, right?" line. There's a wonderful sense that this creature is going to continue killing and it will be a terrible thing.

Eevaluator

Laughter and squeals assaulted his senses through shut windows. God, he hated those shrieks. Today, he would end them.

The spring brought them out. They were little pagans with their rituals. Girls pulling daisy petals – he loves me; he loves me not – while boys wrestled on the lawn crushing flowers as they competed for attention and dominance. On his left, two unsupervised girls licked a puppy’s face. You would think someone would intervene, but no.

The nannies around the perimeter paid scant attention. Afternoon wine and trite gossip occupied them. He would give them reason to talk.

He felt flushed for an instant as his childhood hatred of nannies surfaced. “Merciless nags when they get you alone,” he thought. “They’re useless divas in a pack. Before I’m finished they’ll be mush and begging.” He envisioned pools of blood soaking the daisy field.

He thought his planning was art. He stashed the gun-show Bushmaster behind the big rock in the corner of the park with his killing clothes and ammo. The fence segment he removed behind the boulder was practically invisible.

Now, smoke clouds in the near distance told him garbage fires were bustling in their pits. He could sling in his gear and be gone in an instant. A minute later, he would be just another jogger on the road.

In the empty apartment, he turned from the window savoring thoughts of fame and killing. “In an hour, I’ll hold the kiddie-kill record. I’ve found my calling.” He stepped outside.

What I like about this one is the sense of wrongness is all over it. Very bad things are coming. I also love the wording. Paying scant attention, sling his gear and be gone in an instant, give them reason to talk. These are things someone who plans to do something bad thinks. The contrast between the happy, sunny day and the darkness about to hit also makes this even more ominous.

Eisen

While switching off the lights in the corner, I hear a creak. In the dimness, something shifts at the corner of my eye. I turn to see a woman staring at the book stacks.

“May I help you ?” I ask.

“I left my son here so I could find a book. He must’ve wandered off - I can’t find him.”

She gazes at something behind me. I turn around but nothing’s there.

“What’s his name?” She smells of old sweat like the homeless. Dried blood crusts a gash on her hand. I glance towards the door. We’re alone.

“Crane!” She marches towards the stacks. “Probably playing hide-and-seek. He does that sometimes!” Her laughter muffles as she digs into her bag. “He loves collecting things too.” On the floor, she lays down a rock, a flower and a robin.

It’s dead.

I swallow. Is she mental? Clouds smother the setting sun plunging us into shadow. The shrouded stacks conceal a listening silence. My heart pounds in my ears as I creep forward.

“Why hasn’t he answered?” she whispers.

Be reasonable - the boy might’ve left for food.

“What time did you leave him?”

“Five years ago.”

My chest freezes. “Pardon?”

“Five years ago. But he loves to play hide-and-seek. He must be hiding here.”

A light flickers.

“Perhaps we can get help from the front desk,” I say, my voice wavering.

Reluctantly, she follows me towards the exit. Before the door closes, a small voice cries out.

“Mommy?”

This one has a wonderfully creepy and foreboding tone, yet it's quiet and subtle. Just a mom looking for her lost son, but you just know it's oh-so-wrong. I almost want to cover my eyes and peek out to see what happens next. I really liked the subtle word choices here. The dead robin, smothering the sun, (a hint about smothering the "son" perhaps?), a gash on the hand that's never explained. You're almost holding your breath by the end.

And the winner is...

Eisen!

What pushed this one over the top for me was the anticipation of something bad on the wind that really captured the sense (and definition) of foreboding. There's an unknown here that made me worry what will happen next. I don't know things are bad, but I really feel that they must be. That uncertainty and sense of ill-ease nailed what foreboding is all about.

Eisen, just contact me at janice (@) janicehardy (dot) com for your critique.

Grats and fantastic job to everyone! This week's tension contest is going to be amazing, I can already tell from these entries.