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how to write a book

How to Find Your Writing Style

August 25, 2019 by Michael Santos

How do you find your writing style? What is your author voice? These two questions are crucial for any writer to answer.

Style, to me, is like an author’s fingerprint. My favorite books tend to be written by my favorite stylists. When I buy a novel from one of those writers, I’m buying the way they (and only they) tell a story.

Give me a random passage and don’t tell me the author’s name – I’ll be able to identify if one of these writers penned it.

An author’s voice comes from elements like word choice, themes, and attitude.

I can’t stress that last point enough – you have to have an attitude.

Great Author Voices in Crime Fiction

Elmore Leonard – I’ve cited him as a major influence of mine both on this site and in books. Part of what drew me into his fiction was the iconic style and voice he brought to the page. It’s sleazy and grimy and goes down like good bourbon.

George Pelecanos – a contemporary author with a style that merges hard-boiled, clipped speech with literary poeticism.

Stephen King – a natural storyteller, King has a warm, familiar voice that pulls you in, builds empathy with the characters (good and horrific), and makes you want to keep reading.

There are many more, but I hope you see the idea. Each of these writers conveys emotion through the way they tell stories. They let you connect with their senses of humor, their attitudes, their outlooks on life.

Readers buy their books to hear more stories told in those voices.

Why your writing style is important for your career as an author.

The best scenario for a long-term career as an author is to allow readers to connect with you, the person behind the stories. Your style conveys who you are.

How you see the world. When a reader identifies you as a kindred spirit, through your style, they can become an engaged fan.

This is what happened when I first read the aforementioned authors. Beyond the entertainment, educational, and emotional value I found in their work, I knew they were my people.

I got to know them, which made me want to keep getting to know them. Now, I’m a diehard fan. Diehard enough to mention them over and over in articles like this.

The more people enjoy your writing style, the more they’ll read your books. The more they connect with you, the longer they’ll stay a reader.

Your writing style links your books to each other.

Genre authors will be used to writing series, in which a character or setting connects the stories. But voice can also accomplish that task, even for standalone books.

Here, we’ll return to Stephen King. Not all his titles are in a series (though he does connect them all in elaborate ways). But pick up any individual novel of his, and you’ll hear his author voice.

How do you find your writing style?

Read.

No, really. The best way to find your author voice is to read a lot. While you read, analyze the styles and storytelling techniques of the writers.

Do you like when they do x? Why? Do you hate when they do z? Why?

What creates the ideal reading experience for you?

I still haven’t read that long passage of description on page 2 of my copy of The Big Sleep. I skip it every time. But I really enjoy Dashiell Hammett’s sparse description, focusing on just the important bits and letting my imagination come up with the rest.

Then, try to write something. Emulate a writer whose style resonates with you. Learn their rhythms, their attitude. Likely, it is not so different from your own attitude.

You’ll find that your voice will develop from that exercise of reading, writing, and repeating. Let your own individuality come through the language. Make it yours.

Always, always begin with reading.

There’s no right and wrong in the arts. But there is right and wrong for you.

Subjectivity is everything in creative disciplines. Sure, there are best practices in the craft, standards of professionalism, all of that. But in terms of the “rules” of writing, every time someone prescribes one, a talented writer finds a way to successfully break it.

Don’t ask, “Is this right?” Ask, “Is this right for me?”

This is what I mean when I advise you to find the reading experience you prefer. Which writing techniques produce it? Who are the authors from whom you could learn those techniques? For that matter, who are some authors who do the opposite, and what effect do their approaches have on the reading experience?

That is your starting point. Your writing style and the way you enjoy telling stories can be found in that knowledge. Do your homework by reading and evaluating.

It’s the most fun you’ll ever have with homework. And I once had a physics assignment to drop buttered toast off the side of a table in the dining hall to see if it would land buttered side down. That was fun. Reading is more fun.

How I found my writing style.

I read those great stylists and studied my reactions to their work. Here is what I learned about the way I like to read:

  1. Dialogue over narration. I prefer authors who let the characters drive the story by acting and reacting to each other, the same way that stage play scenes are built from lines of speech.
  2. I like rotating third point of view, because it allows me to feel close to multiple characters, even supporting cast members. Often, I enjoy the supporting personalities the most.
  3. I like free indirect discourse, a method of close third narration that involves no separation between the character’s voice and the narrator’s voice. When you’re in the POV of one character, the narration is written in that person’s voice, not the authors. It sounds like dialogue. If you rotate POVs, then the next scene will be in a different character’s perspective and voice.
  4. All those previous points create more immersion for me, because the author is concealed behind the characters. As a reader, I’m left to be with the people in the story, experiencing their world in real time, with no middleman between us.
  5. A slightly irreverent, dry-humored wit never hurts with me.

That’s how I prefer to read stories, so I gravitated to authors who write that way. And, my own writing style accomplishes the same objectives.

I found my style by understanding how I like to read and then writing stories in kind.

You’ll also notice that my nonfiction voice (on display in these articles) is different from my approach to fiction. But that is a subject for another post.

This also isn’t to say you must write in the same style always and forever. People change, and our author voices change along with us. It’s best not to fight that.

But this is the best way I have found to get started.

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

Get more writing and crime fiction content!

A FREE ebook copy of No Hard Feelings and even more great content is yours, when you join my email newsletter. Subscribe below!

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: crime fiction, how to write, how to write a book, how to write a story

How to Find an Idea for Your Novel or Story

August 14, 2019 by Michael Santos

How to find an idea for a book or a story is a question posed to virtually every author, both by interested readers and by aspiring writers.

In this post, I’ll tell you how I work, and pass on the advice that has helped me the most.

Write what you want to know.

Conventional wisdom is to write about what you know. You’ve probably seen this catchy phrase on other writing sites, or heard authors and teachers utter it. Many would have you search for story ideas in your experiences, in the knowledge that you currently possess.

In my opinion, that advice isn’t wrong . . . but it’s not right, either.

Starting out, when I deliberately tried to write about what I knew, I was too bored by my ideas to continue beyond a few chapters. Nothing held my attention, because I hadn’t let my curiosity lead the way.

Instead, ask yourself, “What if?”

Creative writing is not like journalism, historical writing, technical writing, or any other fact-based content. Even as I write this post, I approach the task from a different angle than I would a piece of fiction.

That’s because ideas in fiction do not come from asking, “What is?”

As fiction writers, we ask, “What if?”

We’re always asking that question, including in our daily lives. We take in information and find connections between seemingly unrelated things. Taking a couple of facts and turning them upside-down or spinning them in a new way is a source of amusement to the creative writer.

More than that, it’s fulfilling, satisfying.

How to get an idea from “What if?”

What are you curious or passionate about? Which subject interests you enough to research it and then explore its possibilities through the experiences of fictional characters?

What if a priest and a rabbi really did walk into a bar, and it wasn’t a joke? What if the sky did fall?

What if someone pays a hitman a substantial amount of money to commit a different kind of crime? And what if, outside of his comfort zone, he makes a mistake and angers his vengeful client? This became my first novel, No Hard Feelings.

What if two armed-robbers plan to steal from a powerful crime boss, and go so far as to kidnap him? What if, instead of coming to his rescue, the crime boss’s underlings decide they want the money for themselves? There you have my second novel, Mr. Moneybags.

What if a teenage boy, seemingly destined for a career as a stock car driver, gave up his dream of racing to become a U.S. Marshal, after his father was murdered? What if, as a marshal, he now learns the identity of the killers and has the means (and the bullets) to chase them down? Those questions became my third novel, Mean Bones.

I always begin with a character and a situation. The situation has to be something I’m interested in, not something I already know. I must be motivated to spend 300-plus pages exploring an idea.

It is the What If’s in life that nourish a writer. So, dig into those questions and be nourished.

Let the characters do the work.

Once you have a situation, create and flesh out characters. When I say “flesh out” I mean really get to know them. Their hopes and their dreams. Their fears, habits, priorities, goals, weaknesses, strengths, routines, etc. When the story opens, what is their status quo?

A story is worth telling if a character’s life is irrevocably changed by what happens. The events and relationships that your characters experience in the novel should push them to their emotional and/or physical limits.

If they make it out alive (I write crime fiction, remember), they will never be the same, either for better or for worse.

Often, you’ll find that the best protagonist is one who personifies the major themes of the story. Keep that in mind as you develop them.

When the characters are well-sketched, drop them into their starting positions and turn them loose. If you know who they are, they’ll direct the story through their interactions. Of course, writers who prefer to outline will start with more concrete plans, where as “pantsers” (myself included) like to sit back and watch the story unfold.

You will always write about what you know.

So, what about that popular phrase I mentioned at the beginning? After all, it’s popular for a reason.

I believe that, because our characters come from us, it is impossible not to write about what we know. Our experiences, thoughts, questions, understanding, empathy, etc. will always come through in the people we create. We don’t have to force it.

I try to never manage my characters. I set them in motion, often in pursuit of the same, mutually exclusive goal, and record what they do. If I know Characters A and B, then I’ll be able to write Character A’s reaction when Character B does or says something dramatic. My stories build one reaction at a time.

The key to getting this far, though, is to write from a standpoint of curiosity. Never stop asking, “What if?”

I think writers are more interested in asking questions than providing answers. Questions are dramatic, answers are not. Questions are dangerous conflicts, answers are safe resolutions. The question is fire, the answer a bucket of cold water that extinguishes the excitement.

The question, not the answer, is the story.

Read in order to write.

It’s also important to maintain your creative health. I have never heard of, read, or met a successful author who was not also a prolific reader. Often, they even have other creative hobbies, outside of the world of books.

It’s crucial for us to recharge our artistic batteries with the work of others.

I enjoy drinking coffee and reading on weekend mornings (or at night before bed, or when I’m waiting somewhere, or at any other waking moment). I also play the bass guitar in a band and write song lyrics. When I need inspiration for my fiction writing, or simply a break and a step back, I grab a book or my bass.

Writers are not assembly lines.

In today’s world of rapid release publishing, that is sometimes difficult to see. Self-care is as important for our creative lives as it is for any other aspect of our existence.

Take a break and recharge. You might be surprised by the ideas that will come.

Use real places for idea inspiration.

Ever visit a city, town, or famous building and think about using it as a story setting?

That is another form of “What if?” question. What if a character encountered an interesting situation at this location?

When I was developing the idea for Mean Bones, I was inspired by the North Carolina mountains and the town of North Wilkesboro. For all my Queen City crime novels, I spend time in Charlotte, where the books are set, and come back to the page, ready to work on the next story.

What are some places of interest to you? The idea you’ve been looking for might be there.

Look at society for an idea.

I would never advocate turning a work of fiction into a preachy manifesto. Your novel shouldn’t be a political brochure or a soap box disguised as a book.

That said, often a story can be derived from an issue or aspect of society that you feel needs to be discussed.

The trick is to make sure the characters represent and personify the social commentary you want to include. Don’t write a treatise. Write a story that proves your point through the events and people involved.

“My idea has to be original!” and other dumb things we tell ourselves.

I’ve seen many aspiring writers become paralyzed by the fact that their idea is not 100 percent original. They feel it’s been done before. They’re convinced they won’t be a real artist unless they redefine what it is to tell a story.

Rookie authors worry about originality. Veteran writers have, somewhere along the way, learned the truth: there is no such thing as an original idea.

Every idea has been done before. You can boil any story you’ve ever encountered down to one of a handful of plot types.

What will be original is your specific execution of an idea. Nobody else on this planet is you, so nobody else can approach a story the same way that you would.

Don’t let the myth of originality stop you from charging ahead. Start your story. Create your characters. Allow your experiences and perspectives to come through in the writing and make an old idea new.

For some reason, this seems to be a trade secret. They ought to teach this in more writing classes.

We are not bigger than the story, the story is bigger than us. Don’t lose sight of that by thinking that you’re an artist. You very well might be one, but the moment you call yourself that, you may as well hang up your pen.

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

Get more writing and crime fiction content!

A FREE ebook copy of No Hard Feelings and even more great content is yours, when you join my email newsletter. Subscribe below!

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: creative writing, crime fiction, how to write a book, how to write a story, novels, stories, writing, writing tips

How to Write in Free Indirect Style

January 4, 2019 by Michael Santos

Free indirect style is my favorite form of third person point of view. It is a narrative style that combines the benefits of first and third person. Here’s why I prefer to use it in my novels…

But first, if you want more information on Point of View in Stories, don’t miss my full article on the subject.

The advantage of the novel.

Free indirect styleStorytelling can be accomplished through a wide variety of media, and technological advances make that more true with every passing year.

As digital media like television, movies, and streaming services captivate audiences today, you might wonder how and why the novel has survived. The reason is that every medium has its advantages over the others.

The novel uniquely allows writers to explore the internal conflicts of characters.

A television show or movie can’t deliver the thoughts of a character without voice over or clever graphics. Visual media has other advantages over the written word, but books are the best for bringing us close to the deepest levels of a fictional person.

That is why they remain such popular and powerful methods of storytelling.

First person point of view and internal conflict.

First person has many benefits (which I detail in my article on Point of View in Stories). Chief among them is the ability to maximize the advantage of the novel—that is, the closeness between the reader and the characters’ inner lives.

This point of view gives us a narrator who is a character intimately involved in the events of the story. We see those events, the other characters, and the fictional world through the perspective of that character.

And we become keenly familiar with their internal conflicts over the course of the book.

First person is therefore an ideal choice for its immediacy and its narrow field of focus on the psyche and emotional journey of the protagonist, which is the main advantage of the novel as a storytelling medium.

But it also has its limitations.

There are stories that call for more perspectives than that of just one character. First person restricts us to one narrator, because adding multiple first person narrators is clunky and confusing for the reader.

This begs the question, Is there a narrative style that can deliver the closeness of first person with the flexibility to switch viewpoint characters?

Free indirect style explained.

Third person is the most popular POV in fiction today. It allows the author to have more flexibility and to switch between viewpoints, usually with simple scene and chapter breaks.

However, third person’s limitation is that it creates more narrative distance between the reader and the characters.

Luckily, free indirect style was created to solve this problem. It is a combination of first and third person, with both the intimacy and immediacy of first, and also the flexibility of third.

There are two narrative entities in free indirect style: the third person narrator (the writer) and the character (or multiple characters, if you rotate between them with scene breaks).

The characters “speak” their thoughts directly to the reader in the narration. Instead of the author’s voice on the page, the reader hears the characters’ voices.

Functionally, free indirect style works exactly the same way that first person does. The reader enjoys direct contact with the characters, which creates that same deep interaction with the internal conflicts of the people in the story. However, the writer is still using third person, so they can switch between viewpoints at will.

Elmore Leonard, my favorite author, was the master of this technique. Read his classic crime novel, Get Shorty, for a clinic on how to use free indirect style.

How I use free indirect style.

Or check out my novels. Free indirect style forms the basis and foundation of my narrative prose. I love writing in my characters’ voices.

They are lowlife scumbags, who come up with ill-fated schemes to make illicit fortunes. Then there are the law enforcement professionals tasked with catching those crooks. My own narrative voice is NOT more interesting than theirs. How could it be?

So, I set every scene in the perspective of a character. The narration in that scene comes directly from that person, in their voice. The reader doesn’t hear me at all.

As a reader, I find free indirect style to be the most immersive POV, because it lets me forget that an author is involved in the book. I feel like I’m with the characters, without a writer in between us. They give me their thoughts in real time, as we encounter the story together.

An example.

Here’s a passage from my second novel, Mr. Moneybags. It is set in the viewpoint of a character named Reggie, a twenty-four-year-old car thief. Note that the narration is in his voice. It utilizes his rhythms of speech, his ideas of correct grammar, and his turns of phrase…not mine.

Reggie half listened to Tommy on the way to the airport in the dead of night. Half listened as they rolled their beat-up ’99 Chevy Lumina through rows of parked cars in the lot farthest from the terminals and with the least amount of security, Tommy saying this place wasn’t bad for finding cars. If you were careful. Like the time Butch’d had him steal a Mercedes S-Class, the big silver one on the showroom floor, by the windows. Reggie thought that was all well and good, but the lot didn’t have an M6 tonight, and then he saw the yellow LEDs of an airport cop pulling in for his shift. Meant they couldn’t linger without drawing suspicion. So, what good had Tommy’s story done them?


They checked the South Park area next. Reggie half listened some more, as Tommy told him the SouthPark Mall was a decent spot during the day, but not now. Reggie wanted to ask, Then why were they there, if it was pointless at night? But didn’t, preferring to get himself ready, man, get hyped up for doing the job and proving himself, not just hearing Tommy go on and on about how great he was.

We get Reggie directly telling us his thoughts about the job, the present situation, and his rival on the auto-theft crew, Tommy. I’m not narrating this section…Reggie is.

That is the power of free indirect style.

Summary.

Let’s review:

  1. The novel is the best storytelling medium for examining the internal life of a character.
  2. First person point of view brings us closest to a character’s internal state, but limits us to one narrator.
  3. Third person point of view gives us the flexibility to switch narrators, but distances the reader from the characters.
  4. Free indirect style combines the advantages of first and third person, while also eliminating the disadvantages. The reader is close to the characters, but the author can switch viewpoints with a scene or chapter break.
  5. Narration in free indirect style uses the viewpoint character’s voice, not the author’s.

If you enjoyed this article, please share it!

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

Get more writing and crime fiction content!

A FREE ebook copy of No Hard Feelings and even more great content is yours, when you join my email newsletter. Subscribe below!

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: books, how to write a book, how to write crime fiction, writing tips

Story Writing: Verb Tenses

January 2, 2019 by Michael Santos

In this article, we explore verb tenses in fiction writing.

A verb is what somebody or something does. The tense of a verb tells us when the action is taken. The person of a verb lets us know who is taking the action.

Which verb tense is right for your story? Read on to find out.

Verb tense (when the action happens).

You’ll have to choose between past tense and present tense. Both come with their advantages. Additionally, certain genres will have preferences toward one or the other. Of course, that doesn’t mean you have to follow those preferences, but you may wish to if you are a fan of the genre in which you’re writing.

Present tense.

Let’s start with present tense, because it is currently (as of this writing) trending in the crime genre, especially in murder mysteries featuring a detective or detective inspector protagonist.

Authors who prefer present tense often say that it creates high immediacy. Present tense makes it feel like the story is happening “right now.” The effect is magnified when you combine present tense with first person narration, which also heightens immediacy.

I take a shortcut down a dark alley, feel a gun against my spine. A voice says, “Give me your wallet.”

This can be ideal for any type of fiction, but it especially explains the appeal of this tense with today’s genre writers, who write novels that prioritize the external narrative and effects like suspense. For an excellent novel in first person present tense, read the classic legal thriller Presumed Innocent, by Scott Turow.

A personal note to snobs.

I have heard some authors (those who would debate the terms artist and storyteller) suggest that present tense is popular with commercial fiction writers today because it is simple. It keeps the timeline of events in a story streamlined and easy to manage. The implication is that commercial writers can’t handle more complicated narratives, so they deliberately “limit” themselves.

As a commercial author, I’m tempted to respond to that opinion using language favored by my criminal characters and their lowlife vocabularies.

But I won’t. I’ll just say that the assertion that present tense is for “simple” fiction and “simple” writers is ironic. Despite the current trends, in my market research I have discovered that a large number of crime readers find present tense inherently pretentious.

To be honest, I’ve always felt that way, myself. When I read present tense, it sounds too “writerly,” which reminds me that I’m reading and breaks my immersion.

Other commercial readers love present tense, however, and it falls to every writer to determine which tense is better for their project. Many acclaimed genre authors, such as Michael Connelly, have been known to use both of these verb tenses in the same novel. Perhaps the protagonist’s passages are in first person present tense, but the antagonist’s are in third person past. His novel The Poet makes use of that combination very well.

It’s your choice.

Don’t let snobs affect your decision.

Past tense.

While it’s true that present tense is enjoying a spike in appeal among today’s authors, past tense remains the more popular of the two.

Stories have traditionally been written in the past tense, going all the way back to the classics. As a result, it is the more natural tense for storytelling with the written word. For many readers, our mental ears have a kind of trained familiarity with past tense narration.

He took a shortcut down a dark alley, felt a gun against his spine. A voice said, “Give me your wallet.”

As a result, it actually has much the same immediacy as present tense. Despite the verb tense telling us that the events are past, we still feel them in the narrative present. This is especially true when you combine past tense with limited third person narration, which closes the distance to the characters and delivers even more immediacy.

Past tense also allows flexibility for the author to seamlessly play with the timeline. It’s easier to include flashback sections in a past tense narrative. In fact, for a novel that utilizes present tense in the main narrative, it is often optimal to switch to past for any sections that jump around in time.

My opinion, for what it’s worth.

Combine the natural, familiar feel of past tense with its ability to reach the same levels of immediacy as present tense and the additional flexibility it gives your narrative timeline.

That’s why I prefer past tense, not only as a writer, but as a reader too.

However, that’s only my opinion. Once again, choose the tense that will create the effect you desire.

Verb person.

For an extensive look into the options available for verb person, read my article, “Point of View in Stories”.

Summary.

To review:

  1. Choose between present and past tense.
  2. Present tense is trending right now, due to its immediacy and its focused approach to the narrative timeline.
  3. Past tense remains the more popular of the two, because of its familiar quality, a similar (if not the same) level of immediacy when combined with the most popular verb person (limited third), and the flexibility it lends to your story’s timeline.

If you enjoyed this article, please share it!

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

Get more writing and crime fiction content!

A FREE ebook copy of No Hard Feelings and even more great content is yours, when you join my email newsletter. Subscribe below!

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: creative writing, how to write, how to write a book, writing tips

Point of View in Stories

December 30, 2018 by Michael Santos

In this article we’ll discuss the different point of view (POV) options available to writers, how to execute them, and the benefits/drawbacks of each.

What is point of view?

Point of view is the technical term for the vantage point the writer uses to tell the story.

The reader experiences scenes through the perspective of that person, who is either the author or the viewpoint character. This means that you, the writer, can use your own narrative voice or you can tell the story through your characters.

Choosing the right POV for your project is one of the most crucial decisions that will make or break a work. The choice will ultimately depend on the effect you want to create for the reader.

Common types of point of view.

In this section, I’ll give you brief descriptions of the major types of point of view, and we’ll explore some of them in greater detail later on.

First person.

Dark AlleyIn this point of view, the story is told by the narrator, a character who is deeply involved in the story and relays their perspective with “I”.

I took a shortcut down a dark alley, felt a gun against my spine. A voice said to me, “Take out your wallet.”

One crucial element to remember is that first person point of view is limited to the knowledge, experience, and perception of the narrator. We can only tell the reader information that the character already has. The thoughts of other characters are off-limits.

We can, however, tell the reader what the narrator believes other characters are thinking. But we must stay in the mind and voice of our narrator, alone.

This is perhaps the most natural and intuitive POV to use, and will often be the best choice for beginning writers. Why? When we tell stories in day to day life, we almost always use first person, going all the way back to when we were children.

“How was your day, honey?”

“Great. I got an A in Spanish.”

Keep in mind that first person narration is not in the author’s voice. There is a character narrating the story, so it must be the character’s voice on the page.

This means that we have to pay attention to that person’s sentence structure, vocabulary, and rhythms of speech when writing the narration in the book.

First person remains a popular point of view in all styles of fiction, both commercial and literary.

Advantages and disadvantages of first person POV.

The main advantages are:

  1. First person is an intuitive voice for writers to produce and for readers to consume.
  2. It creates intimacy and immediacy. First person narration is the absolute closest in narrative distance that we, as readers, can get to a fictional character. We share the narrator’s thoughts, feelings, and views of the world. And, the events in the story are presented in real time—we are right there with the character in every scene.
  3. Closeness builds trust. If your story focuses on the trials and tribulations of a main protagonist, especially if that character undergoes immense internal change, the close narrative distance of first-person will heighten the impact of the story on the reader. In short, it helps connect the reader to the character. Other forms of POV can do this too, of course, but first person is excellent in this regard.

Some disadvantages:

  1. Limiting yourself to one character’s perspective can restrict your options as a storyteller. You won’t be able to enter the perspective of any other characters with first person. In some stories, there isn’t a need to. However, some forms of fiction, like thrillers, can benefit from switching between characters. Your choice of POV should factor that in.

Second person.

In this point of view, the narrator refers to the reader as “you”.

You take a shortcut down a dark alley, feel a gun against your spine. A voice says to you, “Take out your wallet.”

I won’t go into too much detail on this POV, because it is very rare for novelists to use it. My opinion is that second person can be more effective in short-form writing, but in long-form it is difficult to execute effectively.

As a reader, second person annoys me after awhile. I can’t help thinking, “No, narrator, you’re not talking about me…it’s the character.”

Third person.

This point of view means that the story is told from a narrative distance. There are several types of third person, so let’s break down each one.

Types of third person POV.

Third person is the most versatile point of view, especially in contemporary fiction. You can choose from the following:

Limited third person.

For limited third, the viewpoint character is “he” or “she,” and is directly involved in the events of the story. As with first person, we are limited to the perspective of that character and can’t divulge anything to the reader that our viewpoint character does not think, feel, or perceive.

This creates the same intimacy and immediacy that we get with first person point of view, resulting in a strong connection between the reader and the character.

However, limited third person comes with an advantage over first person…we can easily switch viewpoint characters with a scene or chapter break.

He took a shortcut down the dark alley, felt a gun against his spine. A voice said to him, “Take out your wallet.”

***

She pressed the .38 into his flesh, her finger over the trigger.

In this short example, we return to the same situation we’ve seen before. This time, we see the differences between the two viewpoint characters’ perspectives in the scene.

The man feels a gun (he doesn’t know what kind) against his back and hears a voice. We then have a scene break and enter his assailant’s viewpoint. She knows exactly what kind of gun it is (a .38 revolver) because it’s her weapon. She also feels her own finger over the trigger, so her viewpoint gives us that detail as well.

By using limited third, we’re able to seamlessly switch viewpoint characters to give the reader multiple angles of the situation, with high levels of immediacy. Now, we’re connected to both characters.

Limited third person or first person?

By contrast, having multiple first person narrators is awkward and clumsy.

I took a shortcut down a dark alley, felt a gun against my spine. A voice said to me, “Take out your wallet.”

***

I pressed the .38 into his flesh, my finger over the trigger.

Having two first person viewpoints here creates confusion for the reader, because we can’t distinguish between them. In third person, we can use different pronouns or give the characters’ names. But in first person, we must stick with “I”.

Limited third person delivers the intimacy of first person with the flexibility of a more distant narrative style, allowing us to shift viewpoints. For this reason, it is the most popular point of view in fiction today, especially commercial fiction.

Think about thriller novels, which often have large casts and will shift between the protagonist, the villain, and multiple supporting characters. All of those different perspectives make the storytelling more interesting and exciting for the reader. Third limited makes that possible.

Third person omniscient.

In this point of view, the narrator is the all-knowing author, who sees the story from a greater narrative distance and has access to the thoughts, feelings, and perception of every character.

We can switch between viewpoints easily with third omniscient. Additionally, we can give the reader information that only the storyteller would know. For instance:

John thought this would be the last time he’d see the bloody knife. Ten years later, he’d learn otherwise.

In the moment, John can’t possibly know what will happen ten years from the time he uses that knife to kill someone. But the all-knowing narrator does, and can include that little teaser for the reader without breaking the rules of third omniscient.

It is a very natural storytelling voice to read, since we’ve seen it over and over again since we were young. Children’s stories, folktales, and fables commonly use this POV.

Stephen King is the contemporary author I recommend studying to learn this technique—especially his novel, It. King himself is the narrator, and most of the book employs a close narrative distance to the characters. He even switches to first person and limited third in various sections.

However, he’ll also include some ominous lines that only the omniscient narrator could know. When the Losers’ Club are still children, for instance, he’ll tease the horrific events they’ll encounter as adults.

The resulting effect is a mood of impending doom and mystery that is perfect for horror fiction.

Advantages and disadvantages.

The advantages are many:

  1. This is the most flexible point of view, giving us the most liberty in our storytelling. We can follow any character at any time, discuss anyone’s thoughts, and even introduce events that are yet to occur.
  2. Once again, it is a very natural voice for the reader to hear. We’re all familiar with stories told by an all-knowing narrator, and it is easy to become immersed in this point of view when it is done correctly.
  3. Like third limited, we have the opportunity to deeply connect with multiple characters, because we can see inside their psyches. The difference is that third limited requires a scene or chapter break to signal a change in viewpoint, whereas third omniscient does not.

There are a couple of key disadvantages:

  1. It is the hardest point of view to use. This makes sense, because with greater freedom comes greater labor. Yes, we can follow any character at any time, discuss anyone’s thoughts, and even introduce events that are yet to occur. But that involves managing a tremendous amount of moving pieces.
  2. The narrative distance is greater than in both first person and limited third. While we can still close that distance by telling the reader the most intimate thoughts of the characters, third omniscient can’t accomplish the same level of immediacy as those other two POVs. This can be a benefit, depending on the desired effect you want to create.

Summary.

To review:

  1. The most common POVs in fiction today are: first person, limited third person, and third person omniscient.
  2. In first person, the viewpoint character is “I” and narrates the story from their perspective. It has the highest levels of immediacy and intimacy.
  3. In limited third, the viewpoint character is “he” or “she” and narrates the story from their perspective. It combines the immediacy of first person with a slightly greater narrative distance, making it easy to switch viewpoints with scene and chapter breaks.
  4. In omniscient third, the narrator is all-knowing, and can give the reader any information about the characters and events. It has the lowest immediacy but the highest level of flexibility for the writer.
  5. Second person is worth knowing, but is rarely used in long-form storytelling.

There are even more variations of these points of view, which we will cover in future posts.

  • My article on How to Write in Free Indirect Style

For now, if you liked this article and found it helpful, please share it!

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: crime fiction, how to write a book, writing, writing tips

Story Writing: The Ultimate Guide to Great Scenes

December 28, 2018 by Michael Santos

There is nothing more critical to the success of a story, especially a long-form story like a novel, than the writer’s ability to create compelling scenes.

In this article, we’ll discuss scene structure, execution, and how to tell if you’ve written an effective scene or a dud.

Scenes either work or they don’t.

The truth is that the mechanics of scenes are specific and essential. If the writer ignores these mechanics or fails to learn them, their stories will fail to work at their most basic level.

This is because long-form stories are built on collections of scenes. Sometimes each chapter is a single scene, while other authors group multiple scenes together in one chapter.

Either way, the reader’s satisfaction with the story depends on how well these scenes advance the external and internal narratives.

For a scene to work, it needs the following…

Scene structure mirrors story structure.

Scene Structure

Remember the essential components of plot structure from my article on that topic? Here’s a brief refresher, but I recommend reading that post before continuing with this one.

The story opens with the inciting incident, which changes the status quo to the extent that the protagonist must take action. Complications arise in the middle build, giving us twists and turns and driving the story forward with continuous change and progressively rising stakes.

The crisis occurs when the stakes are so high that the protagonist faces a choice between two bad options. When they act on their decision, we have the climax, in which we see how their choice plays out. Finally, the resolution concludes the narrative and shows us how the character and/or circumstances have evolved.

Scenes are just mini-stories.

Every scene follows the same structure that your story does.

Each one should open with an action or a coincidence (as you’ll recall from the section on inciting incidents in the plot structure post). That incident should prompt the character(s) to do something, which will begin the events of the scene.

Complications in the middle should act as small turning points that gradually raise the stakes and the pressure on the characters.

The pressure builds until a character (your protagonist or point of view character) must make a choice at the end of the scene. This is the crisis.

We then see the climax, as they take action based on their choice.

For the vast majority of scenes, you’ll want the resolution to end on a cliffhanger that motivates the reader to continue to the next scene. This is most commonly associated with commercial page-turners, but it applies to all genres and styles of fiction.

Scenes must follow this structure in order to work. Without an inciting incident, middle complications, a crisis, a climax, and a resolution, your scenes won’t resonate with readers.

A question of polarity.

Scenes must also turn. That is, there must be a shift in your protagonist’s quest to get what they consciously want (the external narrative) or what they subconsciously need (the internal narrative).

This is also called a shift in polarity. If the overall state of your character’s journey is positive at the beginning of a scene, the polarity must shift to a negative or a double positive. If it is negative, it means the scene introduces a new setback that prevents the character from achieving their goals. A double positive does the opposite.

Likewise, if the scene opens on a negative polarity, it must shift to a positive or to a double negative. The state of the conflict must improve or get even worse.

If a scene does not include a change in polarity—a turn—it is not a scene. There is no advancement of the story in a passage that does not turn, making it ineffective.

To write an engaging scene, the external and/or internal narratives must progress in some way, either positively or negatively, from where they were at the beginning of the scene.

For more information on external and internal narratives, read my article on them.

Editing your scenes.

When I edit a manuscript (and before I send a manuscript to my editor) I spend most of my time analyzing every scene in the novel.

I ensure that they follow the structure that will make them engaging for the reader. I check that there is a polarity shift by writing a sign (+, -, ++, or –) at the beginning of the scene and a different sign at the end. Finally, I evaluate how the external and internal narratives develop in each one.

Once in awhile, I’ll come across a passage I’ve written that I can’t seem to fix. It won’t turn, I can’t find a polarity shift that leaves an impact on the story, and the scene is ultimately boring.

What do you do when that happens?

You cut the scene.

You wouldn’t build a castle out of stones that have massive cracks in them. The place would come crumbling down. Scenes are the building blocks of stories. They must be solid as well.

Summary.

Okay, let’s review:

  1. The success of a story depends on the writer’s ability to write great scenes.
  2. Scenes either work or they don’t, with little wiggle room. Writers MUST understand the mechanics of scenes.
  3. Scenes are mini-stories that follow the same structure as the overall plot.
  4. Scenes must turn, meaning that there must be a polarity shift from positive to negative, positive to double positive, negative to positive, or negative to double negative.
  5. When editing, cut any scene that you can’t fix. It likely isn’t important to the story if you can’t make it turn.

If you liked this article and found it helpful, please share it!

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

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Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: books, creative writing, how to write, how to write a book, writing

Story Writing: The Five Essentials of Plot Structure

December 27, 2018 by Michael Santos

In this article, we begin a look at story structure by exploring the five essential building blocks of any plot. Every story, no matter its genre, must have these five components.

Writing that is missing even one of these simply does not work as a story and won’t resonate with readers.

The Inciting Incident

This scene begins the story and hooks the reader. Without a compelling inciting incident, there is no motivation for anyone to continue beyond the opening of your story. If this scene is lackluster, they’ll just put the book down.

The inciting incident changes the protagonist’s life. It upsets the status quo and presents them with a situation, challenge, or problem so great that they must take action to face it. That action is the launching point for the rest of the story.

Action or Coincidence?

The scene may be the result of an active choice by the character, such as a cop who chooses to quit the force to become a PI and must begin a new career.

The other option is to have the inciting incident be a coincidence or random happening that impacts the character, such as a homicide detective who gets called to the scene of a new murder.

No matter what you write, the inciting incident must prompt your character to take action.

The promise of genre.

Inherent in your choice will be the promise that your genre makes to the reader. For instance, when a homicide detective is called out to a crime scene, the reader understands that the story ahead is a murder mystery.

The opening promises them the experience that will follow, and so the beginning must correspond to the experience that the middle and end of the book deliver.

The ending has to pay off the inciting incident in a surprising way. It must tie back to the event that began the story.

In a murder mystery that opens with the arrival of a new case on the detective’s desk, the middle of the story will contain the progression of that case, and the ending must resolve it for the story to be satisfying.

In that way, inciting incidents define the whole concept for your story.

For example, when I defined the concept for my second novel, Mr. Moneybags, I boiled the premise down to this short pitch, which also describes what happens in the book’s inciting incident scene:

A retired armed-robber gets back into the game when his old partner shares her idea to kidnap the boss of a car-theft ring and steal millions from him.

Complications

The middle build portion of the story (the middle 50% of the content) must be full of complications that fuel the story’s external and internal conflicts.

These complications create the twists and turns that keep the story moving forward. They ensure that the reader never gets bored or loses interest.

To do this, you must present your characters (especially your protagonist) with problems of increasing size and importance. The stakes must always be raised, as your characters pursue their conscious wants in the external conflicts and learn the lessons that their subconscious needs to learn in the internal conflicts.

Don’t miss my article on writing compelling external and internal conflicts!

These complications should build in scale until we reach the story’s climax, when the characters face a problem that pushes them to the limits of their humanity.

In most mysteries and thrillers, this will be the life and death conflict when the protagonist and villain finally confront one another.

The Crisis

At this point in the story, the complications have raised the stakes to the point that the character now faces a difficult choice between two bad options. This creates a crisis situation.

Their decision one way or the other will tell the reader a lot about them, making this kind of scene an excellent opportunity to showcase the character’s development.

The two options must both threaten the character with negative consequences. There can be no obvious victory in sight.

An example.

I’ll use my first novel, No Hard Feelings, as an example. My protagonist, a hit man called The Apostle, is on the run from the police and from a pair of criminals who want to kill him after he crossed them. One of those criminals catches him and makes a deal…if The Apostle will murder a detective who is causing trouble for the crooks, his previous sins will be forgiven.

If The Apostle says no, he’ll be shot on the spot. If he says yes, however, he’ll have to go through with the hit, meaning that the entire police force will be out for vengeance. He might be able to run, but his life will likely be over anyway.

Which is the better of the two bad choices? His decision tells the reader who he is, what he values, and demonstrates how he has developed to that point.

What does he choose? Nice try, but you’ll have to read the book to find out!

Remember, the best of two bad choices.

The key to writing a compelling crisis is to make it a truly difficult decision. Neither option can be good. The character must be trapped.

The choice will change their life in such a way that there will never be a way for them to undo the consequences of their actions.

The Climax

Let’s get back to the climax of the story. It follows the largest crisis your character faces.

The climactic scene is the one in which your character acts on the choice they make in the crisis.

After an inciting incident that hooks the reader, complications in the middle build that keep the reader engaged, and a harrowing choice between two bad options in the crisis, the climax is the emotional peak of the story.

It must also pay off your characters’ arcs. If your characters change throughout the story (as they should, if you have internal conflicts in place), then the decision they would have made at the beginning of the story should be different from the decision they do make at the end.

This difference in choice shows the reader how much the characters have developed during their arcs. This is especially crucial for your protagonist. Many contemporary thrillers have multiple prominent characters, however, so you may need to consider the arcs of multiple people.

Climaxes in crime fiction.

In a mystery, the writer must also deliver the answer to the puzzle, keeping in mind that the reader should have all of the clues that they need to solve it BEFORE this scene.

In a thriller, the sensations of dread and impending doom must be at their highest levels in this scene, in order to maximize the suspense.

For more information on writing mysteries and thrillers, read my posts on those subjects.

Resolution

This last component of the story allows the reader to understand the effects of the climax on the external and internal narratives.

There are two crucial factors to consider in your resolution…

  1. Don’t make it corny or cliche. Your first idea for the resolution has been done before…trust me. So spend time thinking about how to conclude your story, because the first thing that pops into your head won’t be original enough.
  2. Don’t review content the reader has already seen. For instance, don’t make the resolution a conversation rehashing the events of the climax. The reader will lose interest, and the ending won’t be satisfying.

Resolutions in commercial and literary fiction.

Here’s a trick to help you. If you’re a commercial fiction author writing in a popular genre, chances are your climax will focus on the external narrative. In a murder mystery, it will be the epic conclusion of the investigation, as the detective confronts the perpetrator in a life and death struggle.

If you are a literary fiction writer, the climax will likely focus on the internal narrative, in which the character will undergo their most dramatic change after their entire internal identity, worldview, and/or sense of morality have been called into question.

In either case, your resolution should center around the narrative that the climax did NOT handle.

The commercial novel’s resolution should explore the character’s internal change in the aftermath of the story. The literary novel’s resolution should show the reader how the external circumstances have changed as a result of the character’s development.

By handling it this way, you avoid reviewing story content that you’ve already delivered. Instead, you fulfill the cathartic reading experience by completing both narratives with satisfying pay offs.

In my crime novels, the climaxes resolve the major external conflicts between the characters. There are often outbreaks of gun play, quick-witted verbal slings and arrows, and the question of who will walk away with the money (and their lives).

My resolutions, then, resolve the internal narratives. Do the characters get what they subconsciously needed all along?

The power of ironic resolutions.

One way to make your endings memorable is to make them ironic. That is, the characters may see a positive outcome in the external narrative but not in the internal, or vice versa.

For instance, what if the detective has to do something that brings their sense of morality into question in order to catch the killer? So, in the end, the external conflict resolves in their favor (they get what they consciously want), but now they must deal with the aftermath of their choice to sacrifice their values.

They can’t undo the consequences of their choice (a crisis of conscience), so they must live with those consequences long after the killer is behind bars.

External victory, internal turmoil–this contradiction makes ironic endings interesting. These are the resolutions that are most likely to stick with a reader after they finish the book.

Summary

  1. The five essentials of plot structure are the inciting incident, middle complications, crisis, climax, and resolution.
  2. The inciting incident must change the protagonist’s status quo, prompt the character to take action, and hook the reader. It can also be used to define the concept of your story.
  3. Middle complications are the twists and turns that keep the reader engaged and that raise the stakes for the characters. They cause the external plot to move forward and the internal arcs to develop.
  4. The crisis presents the protagonist with a choice between two bad options. There is no easy way out, no happy ending in sight.
  5. The climax occurs when the character acts on their choice, when the stakes are at their highest.
  6. Finally, the resolution lets the reader digest the story. If the climax focused on the external narrative, the resolution will conclude the internal narrative, and vice versa. Ironic resolutions are the most memorable.

If you enjoyed this article and found it helpful, please share it!

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

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Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: how to write a book, how to write crime fiction, writing

Story Writing: External and Internal Conflicts

December 24, 2018 by Michael Santos

In this article, we talk about external and internal conflicts. Conflict drives story. Learn how to use your characters’ conscious wants and subconscious needs to write a killer story that both entertains readers and resonates with them on a deeper level.

Be sure to watch my YouTube video on this subject as well.

A tale of two conflicts.

In every story, you’ll find two main types of conflict that drive the two main types of narratives.

The external conflict drives the external narrative, which is the plot of the book. The internal conflict drives the internal narrative, the arc of a character from the beginning of their journey to the end.

The external conflict occurs when a character consciously wants something. They know that this is their objective, and their actions in the story are fueled by this desire. Conflict occurs when some external obstacle prevents them from reaching that objective.

In short, this conflict creates the situation, or plot, of the novel.

The internal conflict occurs when a character subconsciously needs something. This implies that the character may not know what their internal objective is. Often, they must endure the trials and tribulations of the external conflict in order to learn that what they needed all along was different from what they wanted.

In short, this conflict creates a character’s arc and development as they experience internal change.

The internal narrative is also the element of the story that connects to the reader on a human level. We may find plot intellectually interesting and entertaining, but it is the character’s internal struggle that we relate to most. We can deeply empathize with coming of age stories, tales of redemption, and crises of identity (all viable internal conflicts) because they’re universal in real life.

These narratives make us feel more invested in the characters, which in turn, makes us more invested in the external narrative, as we watch to see what happens to these relatable fictional people next.

For my money, the best stories balance the impacts of the external and internal conflicts.

What does this mean for different writers?

How do we practically apply these principles to our writing, especially in various genres?

Conflict in commercial fiction.

In commercial fiction (such as the popular genres), the external conflict is prioritized, while the internal conflict becomes a major subplot that enhances our experience with the plot. The situation of the story is the main attraction for the reader. Meanwhile, the characters’ internal conflicts add to the stakes of the plot and make us care deeply about the resolution.

For example, a homicide detective consciously wants to catch a killer in the external conflict. This forms the plot of the book, as the investigation is the main attraction. But perhaps this case is personal, because symbolically, if the detective catches the murderer, she’ll redeem herself from a terrible mistake she made in her past.

That internal redemption story adds another layer of stakes to the case, while at the same time connecting us to the detective at a human level.

So, the external narrative is the priority, but a compelling internal narrative is crucial to the successful execution of the plot.

To put it another way, in commercial fiction, the best plot means nothing without a significant internal story to give it emotional weight.

For more information about using external and internal conflicts in crime fiction, read my post on how to write suspenseful thrillers!

Conflict in literary fiction.

Meanwhile, literary fiction prioritizes the internal narrative. The main attraction for a literary reader is the character’s change over the course of the novel. The external narrative provides the context and catalyst for that change.

For example, is To Kill a Mockingbird a legal thriller in which our focus is on Atticus and his court case? Or is it a coming of age story about Scout? Remember that a coming of age narrative is internal, because it tells us how a character develops within the context of external situations.

Is The Great Gatsby about Gatsby and whether or not he gets the girl and survives the mob? Or is it about Nick and his internal change?

Of course, there is plenty of cross-over between these two generalized explanations of external and internal narratives in literary and commercial fiction. There are commercial books that prioritize the internal and literary books with strong external plots.

The crucial point here is that a great writer will be able to use both types of conflict to achieve different effects, depending on their goals for any given project.

A note on point of view.

One interesting observation I’ll share is that you can often pinpoint which narrative is prioritized in a book by examining the point of view character.

In a commercial novel, the story is usually told by the character at the center of the external conflict. In a literary novel, your POV character is typically the person at the heart of the internal conflict.

This makes sense, because in both cases, the reader spends the most time with the character who has the most to gain or lose in the conflict that is the most interesting in that type of fiction.

Back to our examples.

Let’s go back to the To Kill a Mockingbird example and compare that novel to the legal thrillers of today. Scout is at the center of the coming of age story. The essential questions the reader asks in that conflict focus on what kind of person Scout will become after experiencing the story. It’s logical, then, that the narrative will be most engaging from Scout’s point of view, and not from another character’s.

However, if you look at John Grisham’s thriller A Time to Kill, you’ll find that the protagonist, Jake Brigance, is a defense attorney at the center of the major external conflict of the book. The central questions of the novel revolve around his court case, so Jake’s perspective is the most interesting for the reader.

The other key point I’ll emphasize here is that, in both books, the authors balance the external and internal narratives well, even as they prioritize one or the other. Both arcs are important in the story, making these works impactful on deeper levels for the reader.

Summary.

Okay, let’s review.

  1. External conflict occurs when an external obstacle prevents a character from getting what they consciously want.
  2. Internal conflict occurs when a character subconsciously needs something, but doesn’t yet know it.
  3. The external conflict drives the external narrative, the plot. The internal conflict drives the internal narrative, the character’s arc.
  4. Commercial fiction prioritizes the external narrative and uses the internal narrative to raise the stakes. Literary fiction prioritizes the internal narrative and uses the external narrative as the catalyst for the protagonist’s change.
  5. In commercial fiction, the POV character is often the person at the center of the external conflict. In literary fiction, the POV character is often the person at the center of the internal conflict.

If you enjoyed this post and found it helpful, please share it!

Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

The Nowhere Game

 

Check out my Queen City Crime Series, available on Amazon in Kindle Ebook and print paperback.

No Hard Feelings

No Hard Feelings

Mr. Moneybags

Mean Bones

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Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: books, how to write a book, writing

How to Write a Mystery: It’s All a Game

December 22, 2018 by Michael Santos

In this article, we discuss how to write a mystery novel, one of the most popular forms of crime fiction on the market. How do the mechanics of these books work to engage readers? How do we create a compelling puzzle that holds the reader’s attention?

You can also watch my YouTube video on writing mysteries.

Let’s go back to school.

Do you remember learning about analogies in school? When I was in fifth grade, there was this competition called Wordly Wise, in which every student had to participate. They’d give us a long sheet of paper with a list of analogies. One of the words would be left blank, and we’d have to pick the right answer from a list of four choices.

Each analogy would be written in this classic formatting…

a : b :: x : y

The single colon means “is to”. The double colon means “as”.

breeze : gale :: trickle : ______.

a) lull b) plunder c) cascade d) sunshine

The correct answer is C. Analogies create associations between pairings of words. A breeze is a smaller amount of wind compared to a gale, just as a trickle is a smaller amount of liquid compared to a cascade.

So, what does that have to do with writing mystery stories?

The game is afoot.

Everything. A mystery novel is really a game between the reader and the writer, and the mechanics of the gameplay are built from an analogy.

In a mystery, the protagonist is typically the investigator character, while the main antagonist is usually the person at the center of the case…the perpetrator who planned the crime, committed it, and now toils to keep the facts hidden.

The investigator pursues the truth one clue at a time, in an effort to sift through the red herrings and catch the criminal. Pretty straightforward, right? You can probably recall several books that use the framework I just described.

Here’s the trick: just as the fictional story is a game between the investigator and the perpetrator, the reading experience is a game between the reader and the writer. In other words…

reader : investigator :: writer : perpetrator

Mystery novels are proxy warfare.

What is the reader’s role in the reading experience? They enter the novel knowing none of the information they need to solve the puzzle. They’re typically shown a crime scene in an early chapter, perhaps at the very beginning. There they find the first clues that set them on the path to discovering the truth. But it’s not until the end that they have enough information to solve the case.

Additionally, because mystery novels are most often set in the point of view of the investigator character, the reader typically receives that information at the same pace and from the same perspective as their fictional counterpart.

That is, the investigator is the reader’s proxy in the story. Their experiences mirror each other, and the reader “lives” through that character as they both work through the puzzle. The investigator and the reader both want the same answers.

The investigator is the reader’s game piece.

But how about the writer’s role? The mystery author plans the puzzle, executes the crime (typically before the beginning of the narrative or right at the beginning), and then keeps the answers hidden until close to the end, when it’s time for the reader to make a guess…and time for the showdown between the investigator and perpetrator.

Sound familiar? It should remind you of how we described the perpetrator’s role in the fictional story.

The perpetrator is the writer’s proxy. It is through the villain that the writer spins the web of information, manages the reader’s experience acquiring that information, and pays off the entire case with the revelation of the answers at the story’s conclusion.

The perpetrator and the writer have the solution that the investigator and the reader want, so the perpetrator is the writer’s game piece.

The rules of play.

The experience of a mystery novel relies on this game between reader and writer. As with any fun game, however, there are rules.

  1. The reader has until the end of the book to solve the puzzle. Solving the mystery is the experience that they’re buying, but there is a time limit on that experience. What makes this genre so addicting and so ripe for successful series is that when the reader solves one book’s puzzle, they’ll want more.
  2. The writer must exercise “fair play”, one of the most important terms in mystery writing. That is, the reader must have all the information they require to solve the puzzle before the big reveal at the end. An author can’t present a random, convenient clue that changes the mystery at the last second, for the sake of adding another twist. I’ve read a few books by authors who commit that sin, and there is nothing more frustrating than to reach a conclusion based on the evidence, only to have the rug pulled out from under you.
  3. The puzzle must be challenging. This is especially true because avid mystery novel fans are VERY good at this game. The writer must play fair, but fair doesn’t mean easy. The author should use misdirection, red herrings, and vibrant casts of potentially guilty characters to send their readers (and their investigators) chasing after multiple leads at any given time.

Summary.

  1. A mystery is a game between the reader and the writer, in which the reader has to solve the puzzle by collecting and analyzing information created, managed, and revealed by the writer.
  2. The investigator is the reader’s proxy in the story, and the perpetrator is the writer’s proxy. The reader experiences the game through the investigator’s eyes, and the writer experiences the game through the perpetrator’s eyes.
  3. The writer must play fair by ensuring that the reader has all the information they need to solve the puzzle before the answer is revealed.

I recommend going back and reading the Sherlock Holmes stories. It’s no coincidence that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had his hero say, “The game is afoot!” He used these mechanics to perfection, and it’s the reason his fiction remains the model for popular mysteries today, from books to TV crime dramas.

Another recommendation I have is Hour Game, by David Baldacci. This is my favorite serial killer mystery, because Baldacci manages the reader’s experience with the puzzle so well.

To see a book that I feel doesn’t play fair, read Michael Connelly’s The Poet. Don’t get me wrong, Connelly is perhaps the greatest mystery author of his generation, and The Poet is a brilliant novel in every other way. But when I reached the end, I felt that the last twist broke the fair play rule. See if you agree!

Understanding this relationship (reader : investigator :: writer : villain) is the key to writing a killer mystery.

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No Hard Feelings

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Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: crime fiction, how to write a book, how to write a mystery

How to Write a Thriller: The Keys to Suspenseful Writing

December 22, 2018 by Michael Santos

In this article, we begin discussing thriller novels by talking about suspense. How do we create suspense? How does it work within a crime novel to create a satisfying experience for readers?

Be sure to watch my YouTube video on this subject as well.

It’s all about mood.

The label “thriller” encompasses a wide variety of fiction. In terms of popular genres, you’re likely familiar with legal thrillers, psychological thrillers, historical thrillers, and many more.

It is one of the most versatile types of book, because any story can contain elements of a thriller. That is to say, any story can be thrilling. As a result, they are incredibly fun to write, because thriller authors have a great deal of freedom in terms of subject matter, story structure, and the mechanics of the creative writing craft.

The key to every thriller is having the right mood, which demands that you create suspense for the reader.

How do we write with suspense?

I define good suspense as a combination of excitement and apprehension. I want to be desperate to know what happens next in the book, but I also want to experience a sense of dread.

You have to make the reader worry about the outcome of the story. Each new plot point has to change the game in such a way that the reader says, “Uh-oh, now what?” You should make your reader hope for a happy ending but fear impending doom for the characters.

The narrative in a thriller is built on layers of twists and turns that create both excitement and apprehension. Each layer changes the status quo in such a way that the reader senses the tension building, which makes them wonder when that tension will become too much. They instinctively know that the story can’t go on like that forever.

These layers build to an ending that pays off those feelings, arguably the most important part of a thriller–the end is the most cathartic stage of the reading experience, when the emotions are at their peak.

Writing with suspense entails creating, managing, and escalating that sense of impending disaster, as the narrative progresses from its inciting incident to the climax, at which point the protagonist’s life will be irrevocably changed.

There will either be a happy ending (what the reader hopes for), a negative ending (what the reader dreads), or a mix of the two. Perhaps an FBI agent catches the serial killer, but must compromise her personal values and identity to do so. Those complicated resolutions are the ones that will resonate with readers the most, because they keep you thinking long after you finish the novel.

The resolution in a thriller must be both surprising and inevitable. It must shock the reader. At the same time, when the reader considers the story in retrospect, the ending must make complete sense. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, they should feel like they should have seen the end coming all along.

Thrillers are built on hope.

To write a compelling thriller, you must manage the reader’s hope and fear. But how?

One of my favorite techniques is dramatic irony, when the reader knows more than the characters.

The most common example of this is found in horror movies, when a clueless character goes down into the dark basement. The viewer knows that the monster is down there, ready to rip asunder the poor soul’s head. But the character believes they’re making the right decision.

This creates a powerful sense of impending doom. We hope that they survive, but we dread the likely possibility that we’ll be saying goodbye to this character in a matter of seconds.

Another example…

In my first novel, No Hard Feelings, my protagonist–a hit man named The Apostle–believes the woman he’s seeing has betrayed him to the police and to a group of criminals, who want revenge for a crime he committed against them.

Chapter 11 opens with the woman–Eve–driving home from a date with another man, a detective no less. She’s feeling positive after meeting with him. The next scene shows The Apostle breaking into her apartment, where he plans to confront her about her alleged treachery. He’s irate, hurt, and desperate. And he’s a professional killer.

Eve has no idea that he’s waiting for her, but the reader does.

When you get to that scene, you hope that their encounter will end peaceably. But you dread more negative outcomes.

That’s how dramatic irony works. It plays on the reader’s hope and fear.

Hope is built on good characterization.

It is essential that your reader connects with the characters for this to work. It is required, or your thriller will be less than satisfactory and contain no emotional power whatsoever.

Read It, by Stephen King–a masterpiece of characterization. We get to know the Losers’ Club by seeing the intricacies of their dreams, apprehensions, and lives as both children and adults. The horror plot points in the novel are compelling and terrifying, because we become close enough to the characters for us to feel their dread along with them.

We hope and fear because they do, and King’s skill in creating and developing engaging characters is the key to that.

How to write characters that resonate with readers.

This subject is worthy of its own post (or series of posts), but I’ll keep it simple in this article.

Thrillers are known for their action-packed plots. In any story, there is an external narrative and an internal narrative. The thriller genre is driven by the external; that is, the events of the story–the conflict surrounding the characters.

But it’s the internal narrative, the conflict within the characters, that binds the reader to them on a human level. The internal conflict speaks to a human experience that we’ve all had or will have.

What makes this even more interesting is that it’s common for the reader to know what a character’s internal conflict is…but often the character does not. They typically learn it by the end, in a moment of revelation. “I thought I wanted x, but I needed y all along.”

The internal narrative also enhances our experience with the external narrative, because it adds to the plot’s stakes.

For example, let’s go back to that FBI agent/serial killer bit. The agent’s external objective is straight-forward: they want to solve the case. The plot of the novel will be built on that objective, as we follow the agent’s progress.

But what about the internal objective? Perhaps the FBI agent must solve this case to make up for some horrible thing they did in their past. Now the stakes are much higher. It’s not just a story about stopping a serial killer. The protagonist’s entire sense of self and subconscious journey for redemption now rides on the outcome of the case.

We’ve all experienced a time in life when we sought redemption, so we relate to that story. We hope that it resolves in the agent’s favor, because if they can find redemption, surely so can we. But we dread the negative ending, because we feel the same doom as the character.

For more information about external and internal conflicts, read the full article on how to use them effectively in your story writing.

Back to No Hard Feelings.

In my novel, The Apostle faces two tremendous conflicts in the scene where he breaks into Eve’s apartment.

The external conflict: he’s on the run from the police and a gang, and the woman he loves may have sold him out. The internal conflict: his father used to mercilessly beat him as a punishment. He became a hit man, a professional murderer, so that he would always be the most dangerous person in the room. So that no one could ever hurt him again.

The fact that the woman he loves is likely hurting him is too much for him to handle. It brings him back to his childhood, when another loved one caused him emotional (and physical) pain. He constructed his whole adult persona to avoid such torture, and now that persona is failing him.

He must find the truth about Eve for the sake of his sense of self, his identity, and his ability to find peace. All of which adds to the stakes of the external events in the chapter.

Because of that strong internal narrative, the reader feels connected to him and is more invested in the outcome of the scene. On top of that, the reader has spent enough time with Eve by this point in the story (chapter 11, remember) to know what her internal conflicts are.

When the two characters are in a scene of conflict together, the reader desperately hopes they’ll find happiness, while also dreading the opposite. In short, the chapter is suspenseful because it resonates with the reader on a human level.

Summary.

Okay, let’s review. To write a good thriller:

  1. You must write with suspense.
  2. Suspense is a combination of excitement and apprehension, hope and fear.
  3. Dramatic irony is a great technique for creating suspense.
  4. You must get your readers to connect with your characters for them to feel hope and fear.
  5. To make that happen, write compelling internal narratives that add to the stakes of your plots.

If you enjoyed this post and found it helpful, please share it!

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Looking for a new thriller?

Check out my supernatural thriller, The Nowhere Game!

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Filed Under: On Writing Tagged With: creative writing, crime fiction, how to write a book, how to write a thriller, how to write crime fiction, no hard feelings, suspense novels, thriller novels

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