Guest Post on Writers Helping Writers

I decided to give my readers an advance head's up on the exciting news that my guest post will be appearing January 4 on Writers Helping Writers.  The post will be about use of colloquial speech in fiction.  I'l add a link once it is posted.  For those of you who haven't yet checked it out, this site is a great resource for writers with hundreds of useful posts on all aspects of writing.  Personally, I check it out at least once a week, usually more often.

Forget Query Letters: Focus on the Query Sentence

As I was lying in bed last night I put myself to sleep writing a facetious ode to the bane of every writer's existence: query letters.  By the time I drifted off I had a pretty good poem going, but of course, when I woke up this morning all I could remember was the first sentence: "Query Letters, O How I Hate Thee."

If someone were to take a survey, I am certain that query letters would rank right up there with resume cover letters and Harlequin romances as the most hated forms of prose. That said, they are an essential step in turning a manuscript into a published book.

So what is there really to say about those wonderful nuggets of gold designed to open the magical world of agents, representation and publication?   A lot, actually.  But it just so happens that most of it has been said already.  So I decided to write from my own personal experience, which happens to be instructive.

First of all, I don't hold myself out as an expert on query letters.  But I am good at learning from my mistakes.  Lucky for me, I make a lot of them.

When my manuscript was finished, I joyfully set out to pack all its wonders into my query letter, hopeful that agents would take the time to wade through the dense prose.  This was their chance at the latest NYT bestseller, after all, and I extolled virtue after virtue.  How am I ever going to fit everything onto one page?, I thought to myself. My solution: smaller type.

With that, I sent out the letter to twenty or so agents specializing in my genre and waited with anticipation like a toddler waiting for Santa Claus.  And my wait was about as productive.  A month later, I had an inbox full of rejections and only one half-hearted 'hit'.

As I stared down at the densely-packed page of convincing arguments as to why my novel was 'it', I had a vision.  For those who have never had one, I imagine it will sound pathetically prosaic. My vision consisted of imagining myself as a poor, overtaxed agent struggling with an overloaded inbox and the unenviable task of wading through thousands of query letters each week.

You know what I realized?  That if I was that agent I would be skimming those letters with the skill of a speed reader, my mouse on the delete key, focusing on the very first sentence and nothing more.

So you know what I did?  I stopped thinking about the query letter as a letter and focused on the 'query sentence'.  What came after that sentence could be pure schlock but that first sentence had to be wonderful, had to demonstrate the potential for my book, and had to focus with a laser-eye on my concept and why it would sell.  Because you know what?  If I was lucky, the agent would read this sentence and - miracle of miracles - go on to read more.  The first sentence - the QUERY SENTENCE - is the all-or-nothing, hail Mary pass.  Nothing less, nothing more.

Translating vision into reality turned out to be easier said than done.  I struggled over my query sentence like Goldilocks and her porridge: too long, too short, too boring, too self-promoting.  But in the end, I had a sentence that was, if not 'just right', at least something I could live with.

So I sent it off to another twenty agents and I received ten requests for the full manuscript. Coincidence, you say?  Maybe.  But the difference was so dramatic that I doubt it.

I debated about whether to include my actual 'query sentence' in this post and ultimately decided not to. I may add it later.  But even without the example, I urge you to consider my advice to forget about the 'query letter' and focus on the 'query sentence'.  The goal is to catch an agent's attention and, if my vision was right, this is the way to do it.

The Mirror Cliche and Other Temptations on the Road to Literary Hell

For once, I am going to write a short post.  I promise.  

I was sitting at my computer this morning forcing myself along on my usual 10-2 writing bout, a euphemism for my excruciating daily wrestling match with my latest novel, when it came time to describe my main character.

The tale is told in the first person so, of course, I was more than tempted to resort to the good old mirror. And the fact that there was a mirror (actually, in my case, a reflective car window) in the scene for reasons other than my protagonist's narcissistic navel gazing justified my temptation. 

Mirror gazing is, of course, a cliched literary device we've all seen.  It is used by the best, and the worst, of us and most readers undoubtedly barely even notice.  I've come across the good ol' mirror in Stephen King, Michael Chabon, T Jefferson Parker, Robert Butler.  And that's just in the past few months.  So I figured I was in good company.

But then I got to thinking about how rarely in daily life I look into the mirror in contemplation of my beautiful features. And I decided that I didn't want to impart my down-to-earth character with the narcissism implied by staring lovingly into the mirror.

A quick google search revealed to me that I wasn't the first writer in the world to become fed up wit the cliche.  Which is why this post will be short: I'm not exactly treading new ground.  A few of the best examples I came across to avoid those tempting reflective surfaces include:

• Description in relation to other characters
• Pure, expository prose, i.e., don't beat around the bush and just tell us already
• Piecemeal character descriptions, i.e., the sprinkle approach to revealing attributes little by little
• Using another character's dialogue to describe the character, as in:  "You bastard, you're just so pretty I can't stand it.  Your button nose, your almond-shaped eyes and your pouty red lips make me go weak in the knees."

 I'm sure there are many more that I haven't listed.  In my case, I went with my last example: another character meets my protagonist and comments on his looks (albeit a bit more subtly than my example above).

But that got me to thinking about other cliches that are out there and I would be interested in reader feedback on your favorites.  A few examples that came to mind from my own writing include:

• Using sighs to denote boredom or frustration.  Oh, I love my sighs.
• Foot tapping for impatience.  I can't remember when I last saw this in real life but my characters do it all the time.
• Rolling eyes to indicate....What exactly do rolling eyes indicate, anyway?  Disbelief?  Frustration?  Boredom?  I'm actually not sure about that one other than that most books I read have at least one instance of eyes that role.
• Circumstance and coincidence:  I actually try to avoid this if at all possible because it bugs the hell out of me when I see it.  Bad TV dramas are the usual culprit.  A little is ok but when major plot points turn on it than count me out.

Gideons: Too Bad they Don't Distribute Tolstoy

I was in a hotel room the other day and pulled out the bible from the drawer in the end-table under the lamp.  I guess you could say I was bored.  Very bored.  I was also curious - not to read the scriptures, I am not at all religious - but to answer the nagging question: Who in the hell is Gideon and why does he does he put his bible in hotel rooms?

I know Gideon is a character in the bible and, like most people, I have heard the term "Gideons Bible" at various random points in my life.  I have certainly come across my share of copies in hotel rooms from Honolulu to Hong Kong to Moscow. Honestly, without much thought or consideration, I had always assumed that it was a particular type or translation of the bible, similar to the King James Bible. Or maybe a version that excerpted the sections dealing with Gideon and his doubts about God.  What I didn't realize, but found out through a bit of Googling this morning, was that I was wrong.  What it is is a worldwide organization of men - only men, although members' wives can become 'auxiliaries' - devoted to distributing bibles.  And not just any men either. Gideons only accepts as members "professionals and businessmen".  Does that mean a factory worker cannot volunteer to distribute bibles?  Apparently so.  For some reason, only professional men are considered capable of placing bibles into hotel rooms.  Is the thinking that otherwise they might have to worry about theft of the merchandise?

I suppose I should have been better informed as I grew up in a small town only 20 miles from Janesville Wisconsin, the place that Gideons Internatonal was founded 100 or so years ago.  But I've been in the town hundreds of times and never saw any advertisement or mention of the connection.

Fine by me.  

The Bible Shortage?

I don't typically criticize philanthropic organizations or non-profits, but the work that Gideons does seems so tragically wasteful in the world that we live in.  I'm sorry, but I can't help but think what a waste of time, money, resources and effort it is to stick bibles into hotel rooms.  Last year, according to their site, the organization had revenues of approximately $150 million.  Imagine if that much money, and the efforts of an energized volunteer base, were put into something useful, like ending hunger or helping the poor.  Or what about promoting literacy, without which there is not much need for bibles in the first place?

Is there really a shortage of bibles in this world?  It's my view that anyone who actually wants a bible most likely will find access to one.  Most churches hand out copies to their parishioners.  I have never heard about poor people in developing countries suffering because they don't have a bible.  They suffer because they don't have enough food or can't read and write.

Does Anybody Read Them?

Another thing is that, to the extent I have checked them, the hotel-room bibles always appear untouched and unread.  The organization is apparently touchy about this subject because it is the first issue addressed in the FAQ section of their site.  According to them, each bible has a six-year life span and is read by approximately 25% of travelers.  Yeah, right.  0.25% more like it.  The bibles I've seen, with their unblemished covers and stiff binding, appear untouched by any actual reader.  In this age of the internet, wouldn't it be easier to work out a deal with the hotel chains to send each guest an electronic copy by e-mail?

And one point of bible etiquette:  are the bibles only for reading in the room or is it acceptable to take your copy with you when you check out?  If not, is it considered stealing if you do?  Just wondering.

The Gideons web site states that their mission is to "reach the lost".  If that is truly their mission they seem to have found a wonderfully bizarre means of doing it.  Is there really a higher percentage of 'lost' people in the Ritz Carlton or the Hilton down the street?  They must have a tremendous miss to hit ratio.

Another interesting tidbit is that they distribute literature to members of the armed forces, but in this case what they distribute is not the same bibles that they place in hotel rooms but only copies of the New Testament.  I wonder why that is?

I Vote for Tolstoy

Which got me to thinking.  If distributing books is what they like to do, what about distributing something else?  Imagine how great it would be to enter a hotel room knowing that the drawer contained some random, varied selection of the world's great literature.  Readership of the classics would skyrocket.  Or, baring that, maybe a selection from the Times bestseller list.

Just a thought.  In my dream hotel I would check into my room to find a copy of Anna Karenina or Farewell to Arms in my desktop drawer. I've been meaning to read those for ages.

Fact in Fiction: Fact or Fiction?

We read a newspaper article and expect it to be true.  Journalists are fired for 'fabricating facts', which is really just a polite way of saying 'telling lies'.  The same goes for memoirs and other non-fiction.  Remember A Million Little Pieces?  It's still out there but is now marketed not as a memoir but as a "semi-fictional novel", whatever that is.  But what about fiction, literary and otherwise?  How should facts be used and, if they are, is it ok for the author to fudge them, take creative license?

I began to think about this after an aspiring author in my writing group read a chapter from his novel about a patient in a mental institution in the 1960's.  The patient was purely fictional but the institution was based on a real place.  Fine, right?  Of course.  That's what authors of fiction do after all: blend reality and make believe by taking real things from their real lives to create an imaginary world.  The old writer's adage - write about what you know - assumes just this type of melange.  But this author was worried, uncomfortable about taking creative license with the facts.  He wasn't sure where to draw the line.  Which got me to thinking: is there a line?  Do authors of fiction owe their readers some fealty to the facts?  Are there any rules of thumb?

Find a Balance

In my experience, the first rule of thumb is to find a balance.  It goes without saying that authors of fiction often use facts.  It is, in fact, this very blending of reality and make-believe that can make fiction so enjoyable.  I recently read Owen King's Double Feature and found his descriptions of movie making to be informative and enjoyable while, at the same time, firmly connected to the story that author was trying to tell.  So too with another book I recently read: Michael Chabon's Telegraph Avenue.  Reading his descriptions of Oakland I felt as if I was actually there, had actually seen the places he described.  And the descriptions were not gratuitous but essential to understanding the characters, who were firmly of their time and place.  In these books facts are a tool, a device used to make a lie - the fiction - engrossing and believable.  The authors find a balance in which facts further the story they are trying to tell.

On the other hand, who among us has not read a novel that becomes bogged down by facts.  I find this to be particularly true with genre fiction, in particular, thrillers.  Page after page of detailed descriptions of weapons.  Pedantic, detailed descriptions of geography that read more like a page from a textbook. Dan Brown, master of the genre though he may be, is in my opinion guilty of this sin with his overly-detailed descriptions of architecture and Renaissance paintings.  The details do not so much further the plot as broadcast to the world the author's intensive research and mistaken belief that the facts must be as interesting to his readers as they evidently are to him.  The equation has been inverted: facts should be for the writer to use in furtherance of his story, not for the reader as an attempt by the author at forced edification.

Don't Be Sloppy

The second rule of thumb is to be accurate.  If you decide to use facts, then give your readers the courtesy of thoroughly researching them.  It is one thing to knowingly veer from the facts in furtherance of your story but another to use facts that you think to be true but which are not.  Readers can be a demanding lot.  If you have your protagonist driving around in a green 1974 Mustang convertible then they have a right to be raise a ruckus (Mustangs only came as hardtops between 1974 and 1982). Research is for you, the author, not your readers: it gives a good author the ability to write with authority on a topic in which she may not be expert and to pick and choose the particular facts that further the story instead of regurgitating a textbook page on, say, virulent strains of SARS.  

Research also then gives you the ability to take creative license, which should always be a conscious, informed decision, not a mistake.  It was just this issue that troubled the writer in my group. He wanted to base his novel in a particular time but use a psychiatric term that was no longer in use at that time. He was uncomfortable about doing this because, he said, it wasn't accurate.  Whether to take artistic license or not is a decision that he, as the author, needs to take for himself.  But what is crucial is that he is doing it consciously, knowing, based on his research, what is factual and what is not.  

One way to address artistic license is to be upfront about it.  Many fiction books are prefaced with an author's note such as this:  “Readers may note that we have taken certain liberties with ....”  In my view, this approach is perfectly fine and much preferable to taking license and not admitting it.  But in the end, it is the author's decision.  Some fact-focused readers may object to artistic license but then, after all, we are talking here about fiction.  As long as the fact is fudged consciously, then it is the author's decision whether or not to do it.  

Be Believable

Readers read fiction knowing it to be false but with the hope of being drawn into a world that feels real. Judicious use of facts is a wonderful way to do this, a way to blur the line between reality and make believe in order to draw the reader into the story.  And, in fact, the facts may not be facts at all but pure make believe.  The author's task is to make it believable.  Maybe your story depends on a special, one-of-a-kind car, faster than any production model ever made.  That's fine as long as it feels like a real possibility.  But if you are describing someone who puts the pedal to the metal in his Toyota Corolla and takes it up to 250 mph, all of a sudden you are no longer believable and your readers will be lost.    Fiction, after all, doesn't have to BE real, it just has to FEEL real.

My Personal Experience with Healthcare.gov: How I Tried and Failed to Enroll

With all the talk lately about healthcare.gov I decided to give it a whirl, see if all the doomsayers chanting that the site was an abject failure were right.  I also had my own personal motivations, of course: I am currently uninsured, priced out of the existing health care market because of my status as a self-employed independent contractor.  So you could say I set out on my adventure hoping that the naysayers were wrong and that I would find myself some affordable health insurance.

During the years I have been uninsured I have never become sick, so in some sense view health insurance as an unnecessary luxury I cannot afford.   I’m 43, good health, no preexisting conditions.  But the fact that I am just one illness away from financial ruin has always nagged at me.  This worry prompted me many times over the years to explore my options, but the overpriced plans with humongous deductibles that were presented to me were worse than a viable option: they were nothing more than highway robbery that would do little, if anything, to protect me should I actually become sick.  I just could not justify spending more on my health insurance than my mortgage for such skimpy, scant coverage.  As a result, I have been a passive supporter of the president’s initiatives, hoping that the law would fix what my own experience has shown to be a broken system.

So on November 10 at 12 p.m. Central Time I logged onto the site.  At first glance, I was pleasantly surprised.  The site is well-organized and professional, pleasing to the eye with clearly marked tabs to answer common questions and easy to navigate features.  In that, it is a far cry from many out-of-date, poorly designed governmental web sites I have seen and used in the past. 

A notice in bold type at the top of the site caught my eye.  The notice listed various times when the online application would be unavailable.  At least the times were defined.  What struck me was this vague warning:  “Between Saturday evening, November 9 and early morning Tuesday, November 12, there will be times when … you will need to return on Tuesday afternoon to review and submit [your application].”  I interpreted this to mean that there was a strong possibility that I would be able to fill everything out but be required to return in several days to actually apply for coverage. 

With warnings like this that basically admit that all your efforts to apply may be in vain, I can see why many may be deterred from using the site.  But I decided to press forward.  I clicked on my state (Wisconsin, one of the states whose governor defaulted into the federal system) and was instructed to create an account.  I clicked on the large, blue ‘create account’ button at the top of the screen and….nothing happened.  The button gave the impression of being clicked (it turned gray and appeared to be depressing when I clicked on the mouse) but did not take me to an account page.  I continued to click for approximately five minutes to no avail.  I returned 30 minutes later, then an hour later, then two, and was still unable to create an account. 

So in my case, even the dire warnings to the effect that I may be unable to complete my application were inaccurate.  Unable to create an account, I was unable to even begin the process.  This was even worse than what I expected when I set out to enroll.  What I’d expected (and hoped) was to be able to finish the process, see my options, but be required to come back at a later date to actually enroll in coverage.  I plan to return to the site in the coming days, as I’m sure this is no doubt a temporary problem. 

I do have some sympathy with the designers of the site.  It is clearly a massive undertaking and very complex.  It has to account for a large number of individual variations including, for example, providing different sites and systems depending on which state the applicant is from. 

In the interest of fairness, I should note that the site also provides the option of applying by phone instead of online, meaning presumably that even with the site’s dysfunction people who call should still be able to enroll (I didn’t try this option).

I am optimistic that all the assurances we’ve heard will come true: that the site will eventually be fixed and everyone who wants to will ultimately be able to enroll.  What is unfortunate is the deterrence.  Obamacare needs people to enroll to be successful.  The site’s problems may very well deter the very populations they need for success: those, like me, who are relatively young and healthy but who want coverage to assuage that nagging doubt at the back of their mind that they could be ruined by an unplanned illness.  It is this sector of the population, raised on the internet and the flawless workings of Amazon.com, who will be least sympathetic to the failures of the site. 

The problems discredit what in many respects is a good and noble program to fix a broken market.  As an uninsured American I support Obamacare and hope that the site’s defects will ultimately be resolved.  But Obamacare now has a black eye that will be hard to overcome.  In addition, the problems harden a stereotype harbored by many in the population that if, given the chance, the government will invariably screw things up. 

There were many who wanted Obamacare to fail, and this unfortunate, unnecessary screw-up provided them with the ammunition – the proof – they craved. 

Good News for Ban the Box

While this post isn't directly related to writing it touches on an issue I feel strongly about, namely employment for people with a criminal history.

Back in the day, someone convicted of a crime served his time and, when released, had at least a fighting chance of finding a job on the long, hard path to redemption following incarceration.  The general view - and one that, contrary to popular belief, is still held by the majority today - was that someone who had paid his debt to society had a right to a second chance.  The practical aspect is that the approach decreased the chances of recidivism by giving ex-cons hope at least the chance for a future.  The moral aspect is that, to many of us, it just seems right to at least give someone who has served his sentence the chance to start afresh: the moral/Christian/right/[insert your adjective here] thing to do.

Over the past 20 years or so that approach has been severely eroded, making many former prisoners unemployable for life.  The reasons for this include the ubiquity of background checks for virtually all types of employment, from McDonald's to Apple, the increasingly hard line taken by many states and communities against convicts (including ex-convicts), and employment laws that permit employers to ask about criminal backgrounds at the earliest stages of the employment process, and then to refuse employment solely based on conviction history.

This trend in employment to forever ban the convict from the labor market came about at the same time as incarceration rates skyrocketed: given that 65 million Americans now have criminal records that dooms a sizable percentage of the population to the breadlines or to further criminal acts.

In the past several years, a movement has gradually grown to combat this injustice.  The focus at the moment is on a tiny (but catchy sounding) issue called 'ban the box'.  The slogan refers to a prohibition on employers from requesting an applicant's criminal history until the interview stage or following a tentative offer of employment.  Though minor, delaying the asking of this inevitable question at least gives some applicants a fighting chance at a legitimate job.  

At present, most initiatives only 'ban the box' for government jobs, though some states (Minnesota, being a prime example) have finally extended the prohibition to private employers.  Following this lead, Target, which is based in Minnesota, has now banned the box at all its stores nationwide.

Is this the making of a trend?  I certainly hope so.  It certainly seems that many municipalities (approximately 50 to date) are jumping on the band wagon, though we'll know that it has really taken off when we see more states, the federal government and the courts jumping into the fray.  To date, that has not happened: only 10 states have enacted legislation and the EEOC has taken a permissive approach to background checks.

While 'ban the box' is only a tentative half-step in providing ex-offenders with the right to work, and the cities/states/employers that have actually banned the box, it is at least a start in rectifying a large wrong that has been perpetrated against a large segment of the population, forcing many of them to make the difficult choice between endless unemployment and a resumption of criminal activities.

This Writer's Sins: A full Confession

I spent the day hunting.  It was ruthless and brutal and bloody.  But I showed no mercy - I sliced and diced; ripped and tore - using my biggest caliber weapons.  To hell with hunting season - today was the day I decided to kill. And I didn't even have a permit.

Wait!  Hold on.  I suppose I should clarify before a reader calls the ASPCA...or the sheriff.  

Yes, my hunt was brutal and ruthless and bloody.  But I wasn't hunting animals.  And my keyboard was my weapon.  I was hunting passive verbs....and there were many.

It all started out innocently enough.  I went back to my memoir, which I've put through two revisions and which I thought was close to final, to make one innocent fix: I decided to change the I am's to I'm's to make my writing more conversational.  Small change, I know, but one of my sins as a former lawyer is to come across as more formal than friendly.  So I thought this would make for a simple, subtle fix.

I was about halfway through the 80k word manuscript when a whole slew of passive verbs congregating in the vicinity of the "I am's" began to bash against my eyes.  How's this for a nice example:  I am happy to have been a positive role model.   Oh, god!  Please let me repent.  I'm ashamed to say there are a ton of sins in that one sentence, not just a passive verb, which is why my hunting expedition was particularly painful.

It seems that as a lawyer another one of my sins (in addition to the above-mentioned formality and a tendency to write run-on sentences) is an over-reliance on passive verbs.  Yeckh.  But I do know that I am not alone in my sinning.  Nor is the sin confined to the ranks of lawyers.  If hell was populated by users of passive verbs it would be one crowded place.  Stephen King famously concluded that the overuse of passive verbs is linked to lack of confidence in one's writing.  I agree wholeheartedly. Timidity and law school.  But it is not too late: bravery can be found in the second draft.

So what to do?  Just what I did.  Ruthlessly kill them with a close reading as part of your second or third draft.  Or plan a special reading focused on just this one topic.  Don't worry about passives in your first draft - they tend to crop up almost subconsciously and obsessing over them too early impedes on the creative process (at least it does mine).

Since this is the day of confession, another sin I noticed in my manuscript is that most of the above-mentioned transgressions were more heavily congregated in the second half of the memoir.  Why is that, you ask?  The answer is simple.  I have a tendency to rush through my re-writes.  By the time I reach the second half my eyes are tired and my rigor is failing.  

I hence resolve to practice as I preach: to set aside separate 'quality time' to edit later portions of my works instead of treating them as the afterthought at the end of a long day.  And what will I be doing in this quality time?  Killing passive verbs, of course.  Not all killing is sinful after all.

Too Old to Be a Writer? 50 is the New 30

I am 43.  I don't feel old but I'm at that point in my life where I need to acknowledge that there are some things I will never do.  Play drums in a Top 40 rock band, for example.  Climb Mount Everest.  Hit a homer out of Brewer stadium.  Win the Indy 500 (or, for that matter, even drive a car over 100 mph).  When I was 20 I would have admitted under duress that the chances of my doing any of these things were small but insisted that it was still possible.  Now I just admit that, no matter how hard I try, I ain't gonna be dancing on stage anytime soon with Britney Spears.

But that leads to the question: what about writing?  Am I too old to embark on this career, become a great writer and soar to the top of the bestseller list?  Maybe, but I'd like to think that the odds against me doing so are related to talent, not age.  (A separate question I'll address in a later blog is the chicken and egg question: whether great writers are born or can be developed).

First of all, I do readily admit that there is a certain bias in some circles to the writer as wunderkind.  Who doesn't like the idea of some 25-year old just out of college penning a masterpiece as if possessed by some writing devil (or angel).  And countless charts track the best writers 'under 40' (generally considered the cutoff between old and young).  Some genres too may be better addressed by youngsters: chicklit, tween romances, some kids books.  Many of us yearn to hear the voice of a generation, including younger generations, and younger writers are assumed by many to have a better finger on the zeitgeist.  

But I beg to differ.  Writing isn't major league baseball after all.  It takes life experience.  It takes craft. It takes perspective. All of which are honed over time.  Of course, great writing also takes talent and creativity and those who assume writers are at their peak when young focus on these aspects.  Young = creative in their view.  But I don't buy it.

For example, some genres are tailor made for the older voice.  Memoir, for example (which is my focus).  I've read a few addiction memoirs penned by youngsters, but overall, the best memoirs I've read have been written by those my age or older.  Those who are able to look back at their life with some perspective.  Some wisdom.  Frank McCourt, my hero, published Angela's Ashes when he was 60 years old or so.

Crime fiction/mystery is another example, at least in the sense that readers of mysteries skew older and are attracted to older voices.  Another hero, Raymond Chandler, wrote The Big Sleep in his 50's.

An interesting article in the NY Times focused on great literature asks the question: how old can a young writer be?  The article also does some seat-of-your pants calculations that the pantheon of great novelists "performed their greatest magic" when young - that is, in their 20's and 30's.  In literary circles it seems that the 30's are considered a writer's golden years, mature enough to leave the mistakes of youth behind but creative and daring enough to chart new ground.

But I like to focus on those who bloom later.  The article lists Joseph Conrad, Virginia Wolf and Henry James as prime examples of authors who hit their stride only in their 40's and beyond.  Of course, I add McCourt and Chandler.  Stephen King, in his memoir/book "On Writing" talks about the effect of age on his writing (he hit the big time at the age of 26 with Carrie), saying that his creativity hasn't suffered but that he is slower now than he used to be (which he attributes to quitting smoking).  Maybe I should try that.

It's possibly wishful thinking, but I like to think that 50 is the new 30.  I agree that as we age the chances of doing anything new diminish, whether that be driving a race car or singing in a rock band.  But I believe that there is hope for those of us who are now older but have spent our lives developing a base: writing (whether or not it is creative writing; in my case it was journalism and legal writing, bleckh!), reading and honing our craft.  

But only time will tell.....

Setting is Key: Fact or Fiction?

Think of Laurence of Arabia and the desert springs to mind.  Think of Star Wars and you probably picture the Death Star.  Think of Agatha Christie and you envision an old manor house or some quaint little village in the English countryside.  Think of Philip Roth and some drab bedroom town in New Jersey springs to mind.

These works, whether they be novel, film, play or genre fiction, all rely on setting to make them great. And successful use of setting is, in my view, what separates the good from the great when it comes to writing.

I like to think of setting as playing a subtle role that, though behind-the-scenes, is of vital importance. Similar to props and scenery in a Broadway play.   Done well, it adds to the novel, enhancing key elements such as plot and character.  Done poorly, it is unimportant or, conversely, too important - distracting readers by hitting them over the head with endless depictions of scenery. 

In other words, successful use of setting can feel like walking a tightrope: done wrong and you may fall; done right and at the least you'll make it to the end in one piece.  Here are several simple rules that I try to keep in mind (sometimes more and sometimes less successfully) when I'm writing:

1.  Integration:  Your setting should be integrated into your novel.  By this I mean that it should "make sense," it should play a role in your novel, in the characters lives, it should enhance and further the plot.  For example, if your setting is the desert, certain plot conflicts should be related to the environment: maybe a lack of water or a battle against the harsh elements.  If your setting is a small town (my favorite), then the characters and the plot should revolve in part around that.  To check if your setting is properly integrated, you can perform a little test.  Imagine your characters and plot in a different setting, say a city instead of a small town or an urban area instead of the wilderness.  What would have to change to make the new setting work?  If nothing much would have to change other than some descriptions of your surroundings, than your setting is not properly integrated.

2.  Write About What you Know:  If you live in a small town, write about that.  Live on a farm?  Great setting for a novel.  Love NYC and spend a lot of time there?  Great, use it as your setting.  I don't mean this as a hard and fast rule.  As a writer, I don't like those - they seem too limiting.  And if everyone followed it we would not have Lord of the Rings or Dune.  But let me give you a personal example.  I have lived most of my life overseas, traveled to many countries and lived in more.  But I have never been to Mali.  For some reason, when writing a thriller, I got it into my head that part of the action had to take place there.  Big mistake.  Although I could piece together how I thought it should look - we live in the internet age after all - I felt like a fraud, like I was describing something I was guessing at.  And my writing suffered.  Much better to choose a setting you know intimately, that you can picture in your head with your eyes closed, that you can twist and pull and turn until you know just what is important about the setting and the role it plays in  your novel.  Maybe this is a physical place - the view outside your window.  Maybe this is an imaginary world.  Each writer is different.  But stray too far outside of your comfort zone and you may find yourself struggling.

3.  Setting is More than just Location:  When you mention setting people think of the physical place where the novel takes place.  But it is more than that.  It is also period, duration and time as well as culture and milieu.  By this I mean, setting is also about when your novel takes place, how long it spends there in that place and how people think and act there.  A novel can be set over a day, a minute, a month.  Decades.  It can also be set in the past, present and future.  As a writer, I find this inextricably linked - part of, in fact - setting.  So consider these points when developing your novel.

4.  Describe through example.  This is basically a fancy way of saying 'show, don't tell.'  You may get the point across by writing 'it was raining,' but that is not a particularly memorable way to describe your setting.  It is in descriptions such as these that authors create their style, set themselves apart from the rest, draws the reader in.  Much better to say, "The hard drops pelted against the sidewalk,"  or "Water gushed from the low-hanging clouds that sped past over their heads."  I'm not saying my examples are the best, but the point is to avoid basic descriptions such as "It was hot," "the leaves were green," "the house was yellow," etc., etc.

5.  Keep it Consistent:  It is very helpful as a writer if you can picture the setting in your head.  I find I can usually do this best when lying in bed before sleep.  If not, another good system is to jot down the various elements of your setting in a notebook to keep them in mind.  This will help keep your writing consistent throughout your manuscript and "true" to your setting.  There's nothing worse than to describe one thing one way in the first chapter and another way 20 chapters in.  Astute readers will spot the discrepancy and it will turn them off from your work.  

Writing Groups and the Aspiring Writer

When I first started writing I took a disdainful, go-it-alone approach.  The fine words would flow from my pen and create art on the page.  What need did I have for a writing group?  Picasso didn't create what he did by attending a painter's group, did he?

I'm exaggerating a bit to make my point (no, I don't compare myself to Picasso) but the reality is that I thought of writing as a solitary activity to be approached in something of a vacuum.  But as I progressed through my first manuscript, as my eyes became increasingly glazed and I had no idea if what I was writing was art or schlock, I began to yearn for feedback.  But the fact was, that I was scared of crawling out of my bubble and subjecting my work to the scrutiny of others.

Finally, I decided that if I ever wanted to publish I had to start showing my work somewhere.  And with that, I got on the internet and began to search for writing groups in my area.  And am I ever glad I did.  I just wish there were more of them.

I live in Milwaukee, WI, not exactly a hotbed of creative activity.  So I attended my first meeting of the local writer's groups with - how to put this tactfully? - not the highest expectations.  But I was surprised and impressed.  I enjoyed the pieces that others were writing and appreciated the chance to give them constructive feedback.  And I received a ton of good advice from the other members on my work.  I received praise for what I had done (always good for the ego) as well as constructive criticism.  No one - thank god - told me my work was shit, though one of the grandmotherly types looked offended when we got to a section on sex and drugs.

The main value of a writing group to me is the fresh sets of eyes it brings to your work.  Just because a fellow member isn't a NYTimes bestselling author (or even a published author) doesn't mean that she won't have wonderful feedback.  The feedback from a focused group can encompass many things, from plot developments to POV to character development and the value is the fresh perspectives it brings to your work.  I doubt that I am the only writer ever to lose perspective on what I was writing halfway through.  How many times can one person look at the same thing over and over after all?

That said, even if you attend the most accomplished group, you need to take advice with perspective.  For one thing, the advice may conflict.  With one of my works, a member was adamant that I drop a character's colloquial voice.  He thought it was distracting.  Another member was equally adamant that I keep it.  In the end we had a great discussion but I was left to decide things on my own (I kept the colloquialisms).

Another drawback (at least with my group) is that members don't look at the work as a whole but rather look at several pages each time we meet.  That is a slow process as it is disjointed and can take months to work through a manuscript.  To avoid that, you really need a writing mentor or audience you can turn to with complete drafts.  But this is not really a criticism of writing groups - it comes with the territory, that's all.  And it may be at your writing group that you meet a mentor or someone willing to read your full manuscript.

My group has made me hungry for more: we meet only once every two weeks after all.   I am now exploring other options, from internet meet-ups to writing seminars and festivals.  Any thoughts on useful and rewarding venues from my readers would be much appreciated.

Mystery Revealed: Nine Secrets to Writing a Successful Whodunit

I recently finished the manuscript of a mystery, Murder in the Middle of Nowhere.  In later posts I'll go into more detail on the plot but I am happy with the way it turned out, which is more than I can say of many of my previous writing attempts.

The reality is that when I sat down to write I wasn't intending to write a whodunit but rather just a simple character study of someone I found interesting.  I'm not snobby or anything but had sort of looked at this genre with disdain as overly rote and formulaic.  But as I progressed, my character study increasingly took on the characteristics of a mystery and, in the end, I couldn't resist the urge to go all out.  I wish I could also say that I resisted the urge to break all the rules of the genre; I didn't.  Since I wasn't writing a traditional mystery I felt liberated from the rules.  For example, I included page after page of backstory and didn't get to the crime until about page 500 or so.

With first draft in hand, I waltzed proudly into my writing group to show off my handiwork.  "Is this genre fiction?" one member asked.

"Well, not exactly," I replied.  "But sort of, yes."

"Then what is it?"

"Ok, fine, I adimit it.  It's a mystery, a detective novel, a whodunit."

"Where's the crime?"

I looked away in embarrassment.  "If you turn to page 499, you'll find the first description of the murder."

Ok, I'm exaggerating a little.  But with a few astute comments, my colleagues quickly reminded me that readers expect certain rules to be followed with genre fiction.  And unless you're committed to fine literature unencumbered by any and all rules, you probably should too. 

So here are the 9 rules that I ultimately followed with my mystery and would suggest that you follow too unless you're much braver than I:

Crime:  Readers of crime fiction expect there to be a crime and expect it to be introduced quickly.  And, yes, the crime is typically a murder, though the rule bends a little here: other crimes, if they are sufficiently shocking, will work.  I have seen various suggestions regarding placement of the crime: in the first 1,000 words, in the first 3,000.  Ultimately, I didn't worry about the word count but just concentrated on foreshadowing in the first paragraph and fully introducing the crime within the first 3 chapters.  Personally, I like foreshadowing prior to the introduction of the crime itself as it serves to create tension.

Plot:  Plot is paramount and you should get into it quick.  I had a good plot in mind with some exciting hooks but took too long to get there with all my 'artistic' backstory.  I'm not an author who enjoys extensive outlining and plot development before starting work, but with mysteries you should really have the basic plot developments already on paper (or in your head) including how the story will end and the twists and turns it will take to get there.

Ending:  As I mentioned just above in plot, you as the author have a great advantage over the reader:  you know how the story will end.  Or at least you should.  I have spoken with many aspiring authors who don't keep this in mind.  And the result is a messy book.  By knowing the ending you can effectively place all the twists, turns and mystifying clues that will make your book interesting.

Narrator:  without an interesting narrator, whether he/she be a layman or a professional, your book will be boring.  Whatever their background, they need a strong reason to be investigating the crime or else it won't seem believable.  That is why many authors choose policemen as their narrator.  Personally, I enjoy whodunits narrated by a non-professional.  But that takes extra planning to give them a plausible reason to investigate.  The type of narrator you choose can play a role in determining whether your story falls into some sub-genre of the mystery novel: amateur, professional, police procedural, legal thriller, etc.

Victim(s):  You need at least one victim.  And with victims there is a tightrope to walk. You need the victim to be at least somewhat interesting (or the crime committed against them) but as they are dying in the first several chapters, if not already dead, you don't need much more than that.  What is more important is fully developing the living characters in your book.

Setting:  often, advice given to aspiring mystery writers leaves out setting.  Personally, I think setting is paramount.  A good setting can add wonders to the story, creating atmosphere and believability.  What is key is to make the plot and the characters an integral part of the setting.  It should all work as a whole.  Don't put a detective that looks and acts like some asshole on the NYPD into a plot set in Kansas.  Simple, yes, but in practice it can be hard to fit everything convincingly together.

Clues:  You want to confuse your reader but you don't want to fool them.  Does that make sense?  What I'm saying is that your goal as an author isn't to pull one over on your readers.  That's no fun.  But you do need to intrigue them and confuse them: if they figure out who did it before reaching the end it won't be fun either.  So place some clues, some true and some false, but don't cheat.  Don't have an alien swoop in at the last second and claim responsibility.  

Bad Guy: you want a bad guy that seems capable of committing the crime.  If not, the reader won't believe it.  Other elements to consider when developing your bad guy are: likeability (giving him/her some redeeming qualities can draw readers further into your story); motive: the perpetrator should have a good reason for committing the crime; and relationship to narrator.

Big Theme:  What do I mean by this?  First, forgive me for including it because, unlike the other points above, this one isn't really a rule.  What I mean is that, at least for me personally, I like to try to fit in some bigger, overarching theme, that explains the crime or plays a role in its solution.  This will, in the end, make your story bigger, more meaningful.  For example, you could address the issue of racism when solving a crime.  Or mental illness.  Or money, power or corruption.  Deceit, treachery, family relations, religion.  The list is endless.  And, no, it is not essential.  Agatha Christie rarely had an overarching theme.  But to my mind it's what sets many good novels apart from the great ones.

Period Films: Why is the Hair So Bad? Writers Don't Make this Mistake

Thank god for Netflix.  After binging over the past weeks on Breaking Bad, Orange is the New Black and The Walking Dead, last night I decided to enjoy a bit of retro schlock that I found on an internet list of best films on Netflix: Mel Gibson's Braveheart.  While I readily admit to thoroughly enjoying the movie, I struggled to get past the hair, that mane of tinted '90's locks atop the Scottish hero's head that looks more Kurt Cobain than William Wallace.

Which led me to think of a bigger question, that is: Why are Hollywood period dramas so bad with the hair?  The thing is, we're supposed to be transported into another era, another realm.  And movies often do this very well.  But for some reason, no matter what the era or the century, the stars typically have thoroughly modern hair (though often the supporting characters actually have more realistic period styles).

I will be the first to admit that when watching a new period piece I don't notice this.  The hair just looks normal and does not distract from whatever 'time' is supposed to be portrayed.  But as time passes, the anachronism becomes apparent.

Liz Taylor in Cleopatra? I would bet that audiences at the time were wowed by the authentic historical recreation.  Watch it now and it's difficult to get past that perfectly coiffed bundle of 1960's hair atop Cleopatra's head.

Kate Winslet's hair in Sense and Sensibility?  Looks pretty '90's if you ask me.

I don't wish to belabor the point as (I'll be the first to admit) it is a petty one.  And one that applies to women more than men as all you need to do for a man in a period film is plop a top hat atop the leading man's head.  But I do wish that, when going to such great lengths to accurately recreate a specific time or place, that more would be done to make authentic those mops atop the stars' heads.

While I have focused here on movies, the real advice goes out to authors of period fiction.  Don't make this same type of mistake.  Pay attention to details, including appearance.  Readers are an astute lot and historical errors will detract from their enjoyment.