Do You Really Know How To Show, Don’t Tell?

Let me preface this post by saying, I found this generator that rates post titles. Which is why this title seems a bit cocky. It rated high and I’m using it as a test. For those of you who are new to my site and don’t know me, I assure you I do not think I’m better than anyone. This is only a test to see if higher rated titles really drive more traffic. Stay tuned for a post on this if it works. If it doesn’t…crickets.

Yesterday marked my deadline for completing the pre-edits for Marred. “Pre-edits” seems like it would be an easy task. It wasn’t. Once the track edits begin in two weeks I’m not allowed to change anything other than what the editor points out. So I wanted to go through the manuscript…one…more…time…and improve it to the best of my ability. I went word-by-word, line-by-line, scene-by-scene…and checked scene structure, MRUs, and overall suspense, chose stronger verbs, deleted filler, etc. etc. And I learned something about myself. I am a perfectionist who is never happy until I’ve ripped everything apart, drove myself crazy, pulled out half my hair, beaten myself into exhaustion, and then rebuilt. Now, I’m satisfied…for two weeks…until the cycle begins again.

Is this a flaw? I think so, but it also drives me to improve.

In the pre-edits I looked for writing tics and things that dragged down the writing and/or slowed the pacing. The phrase “Show, Don’t Tell” is some of the oldest and most misunderstood advice in the industry. Show, Don’t Tell does not only mean to show a character’s action instead of naming an emotion; it goes way deeper than that.

When you write in Deep POV, like so many books today, even your narrative must Show, Don’t Tell. It should read as though the character is speaking rather than author intrusion. Years ago, books used an omniscient narrator, but today readers expect more. It is at the editing stage where you can amp your writing to the next level by concentrating on these changes.

Telling words are:

S/he thought

Mused

Wondered

Guessed

Hoped

Realized

Wished

Watched…

These words pull the reader out of the story. Think about it. We don’t think, “I wondered if the windshield could stop a bullet.” Or, “I wished I hadn’t gone down this dark alley alone.” We just think it. As such, our stories need to reflect that.

Instead of the first example “I wondered” we need to write “When I saw the gun I ducked under the dash. Could the glass stop a bullet?”

See how more immediate it sounds? The reader remains in the story.

Let’s take the second example. Which is one of my writing tics by the way.

Instead of: “I wished I hadn’t gone down this dark alley.”

Try: “If only I traveled my regular route home.”

Instead of: “She realized he was a creep.”

Try: “Creep.”

We are in the character’s head. Cut the fluff.

Phrases like Seemed to, Tried to, Began to…are also telling phrases. I once read a blog post where the author was ranting about characters “trying to” do things, and he rambled on and on about “Why is everyone only trying? Just do it already!” The post, comical as it was, always stuck with me. The author also happens to be correct. We can’t have our characters “trying” to do something. They do it.

While editing, I was amazed by how many times I used “tried to” or “started to”. For me, this took time to master.

For instance, in Marred I have a section of scene where the deputy sheriff, Frankie Campanelli, shoves the sheriff while he’s rising from the sofa. My first instinct was to write, “As he started to rise she shoved him back down.” There are several things wrong with this sentence, but let’s concentrate on the action. I rewrote the sentence as “He rose halfway and Frankie shoved him onto the sofa.” Less words, more immediate.

We all have our tics. Lord knows I have many. The trick is acknowledging what they are so we correct them during editing. Preferably before you submit to publishers and/or agents. I never was one to do things the “right way”, but I’m paying for it now. Now, I have a ticking clock. Whereas before I could move at my own pace. This becomes even more important if you decide to go the self-publishing route, because once you push that publish button your book is out there. Well, I shouldn’t say “more important”. You could save yourself headaches from reading rejection letters if you tighten your writing before you submit, but that is an entirely different post.

Here’s a writing tic that always cracks me up: “His eyes shot to her little black book. Was that man’s number in there?”

Body parts cannot move independently from the rest of the body. While working with my critique partner we used to laugh about this all the time. It’s easy to write this way in a first draft. Reading the above sentence makes me envision eyeballs shooting across the room and landing on a little black book. Unless you’re writing science fiction where the protagonist is a lovely robot like Lisa, my friend Craig Boyack’s creation, body parts need someone to move them.

Instead of: “His eyes shot across the room.”

Try: “His gaze shot across the room.”

Instead of: “Her arm raised and she waved.”

Try: “She waved.”

Which brings me to…

Double action

When someone waves they obviously have their hand “raised”. Same with “reach”.

Instead of: “He reached out and grabbed the candle.”

Try: “He grabbed the candle.”

Better: “He swiped the candle.”

“Grabbed” is so overused. Always better to find a specific action that paints a more vivid picture in the reader’s mind. “Swiped” shows us he moved quickly like he didn’t want to be seen.

Sensory tells

She heard

Felt

Touched

Smelled

Saw

Tasted

Instead of “She heard a van outside her house and froze.”

Try: “A van rumbled outside her window. She froze.”

Instead of: “She saw a dark-haired man slip through the back gate and into the yard.”

Try: “A dark-haired man slipped between the gates, into the backyard.”

Less is more.

Instead of: “She tasted his blood on her tongue and gagged.”

Try: “She gagged, choking on his blood.”

It may not seem like a big deal to use a few telling words, but it is. After you make these changes, read through your manuscript start to finish and you’ll see a marked improvement in your writing.

Honestly, I have never been more proud of my work. Marred is the best story I’ve ever written and I can hardly wait to share it with the world. I’ll let you in on a little secret…a birdie told me that the pre-release price will be 99 cents. If you want a copy of Marred, for yourself or as gift for someone else, take advantage of the sale because a few days after release it goes to full price. Not that it will break your piggy bank even then, but why not get it for a rock-bottom price? The pre-release sale begins the middle of September. I’ll post an announcement when it becomes available.

I should have a cover to show you soon. Hopefully in time for my next post. Until then, happy writing. I’m off to tear apart Timber Point to get it ready for submission. The work never stops, but it’s so much fun!

Have a wonderful week! I’m hoping to catch up on social media over these two weeks too. Why aren’t there more hours in the day? That was rhetorical. My real question to you is this…do you have any tips to share? If you’re a reader, what pulls you out of a story?

Looking for a way to commit murder? Sign up for your FREE copy of 50 Ways To Murder Your Fictional Characters.

Rhythmic Beats… Fiction Writing

You may have noticed I’ve been absent lately. To meet my deadline I’ve had to pull away from social media while I work on my first rounds of edits for Marred, design my cover with the art department, and write my tagline and jacket blurb. It’s an exciting time, but I also had a stark realization that I cannot squeeze forty-eight hours into twenty-four. Which was a little disheartening. Admitting that one is human is never easy. It’s humbling, to say the least.

How self-published authors find time to blog and engage on social media is mind-boggling. Of course I suppose they don’t have a deadline hanging over their head, but still…they have to do everything alone. So before I get into this post I think a round of applause is warranted to all of you who choose this path. You’re very brave, and I commend you for having the guts to walk this path. That’s not to say traditional publishing is easier. In my experience there’s more heartbreak and devastation, but at least you end up with a team to help you once you climb out of the slush pile.

Anyway, back to my point.

While editing I find myself consumed with sentence rhythm, matching the character’s inner emotion to the words on the page. Not only by choosing the correct word, but also by concentrating on the way sentences are constructed.

Perhaps sentence rhythm excites me because I’m an auditory writer, as my last guest, Paul Dale Anderson, clarified for me. If you haven’t read his post What Kind Of Writer Are You? you can find it here.

I’ve always noticed rhythmic beats while reading, the way some authors can captivate me by how they place words on a page. I’m not talking about a writer’s voice, though that also plays a part. No, this is something else, something magical, a certain je né sais quoi. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I discovered this mysterious attraction had a name…sentence rhythm.

For some reason there’s not a lot out there about sentence rhythm. Why, I have no idea. Because by assigning it a label we can look at a paragraph, or an entire scene, that’s not working and have another tool to use to fix it. 

Sentence Rhythm

To give you a better understanding of what I’m talking about, let’s talk music for a minute.

When you hear a love song your breathing relaxes, your pulse rate slows, muscles ease with the flow of the music, your body begins to sway…back and forth…the sweet sounds lulling you into tranquility.

A fast beat makes you want to jump up and dance, fling out your hands, belt out the song.

Hard core rock. Muscles tense. Head bobs. You want to shout, stomp your feet.

It’s the same for writing.

For example:

Following a winding dirt trail, Sarah strolled through the woods near her home. Beauty and nature surrounded her; she loved being alone with her thoughts. Admiring a hawk overhead, she heard sweet serenades of bullfrogs croaking in a nearby pond and squirrels scurrying through pine needles, scattering chestnuts across the forest floor.

Last Saturday she entertained friends. Three couples relaxed on the back deck of her cozy log cabin, laughing at life, basking in the warmth of friendship. The women sipped fine wine and picked on a succulent fruit platter while their husbands inhaled every piece of barbecue chicken on the grill. The men did not know their wives had outsmarted them, with three juicy steaks marinating in the fridge. Suppressing a titter, Sarah nonchalantly wiped steak sauce off her lips before kissing Carl.

As Sarah’s new Nikes swept across the soft soil she hummed a sweet melody that reminded her of a time long ago–the treasured day she first met Carl. A smile spread across her face, her heart overflowing with love.

What a perfect day.

Can you feel her joy, her peacefulness?

Danger loomed ahead. A dark figure craned his neck around the side of a wide ash tree. Piercing black eyes. Long leather coat. Nature concealed the rest of his body.

Sarah’s heart slammed against her ribs.

He pulled back, out of sight. No shadow. No sign of where he went.

Eyes wide, she stopped dead.

A quick glance behind told her she was alone. Except for him, the man who invaded her space. The man who reeked of evil intentions. The man she never expected to see again. What if he lunged from the bushes? No one would know, no one would help.

She gaped left, right. Panic drummed at her ears. She couldn’t move, couldn’t run. Her feet rooted to the soil.

An icy tongue licked up her spine. How did he find me?

The area betrayed her, turned deadly quiet. Animal sounds coiled through her bones. Sticks cracked in half. Leaves shuffled under heavy boots. The hawk squawked short, quick caws…a cry of danger. For those terrified moments everything stopped. The bullfrogs went silent, chipmunks froze in their tracks. Even the wind didn’t dare move.

Can you feel her fear?

I’ve exaggerated both scenes to make my point. You can probably guess what sort of words affect rhythm. For a languid feel we want run-on or complex sentences. Past particles, verbs ending with -ing, give the impression of time passing, a sense of continuation. We can also put descriptive phrases before the subject and verb, like I did in the first sentence of the first paragraph.

When trouble happens sentences fragment. Jerk. Split in two. The reader tenses, her fight or flight response kicks in, eyes narrow on the page. Lots of -ed, hard sounding verbs and sentence fragments increase tension and build suspense. We want our most important word–the verb–in a place of prominence. I like to also break up my paragraphs. The more white space, the faster someone reads. Drag the reader along, force them to continue. If we have huge blocks of words they’re more apt to stop, lose their place, or get thrown out of the story. Not a good thing for us.

Examples of hard sounding verbs are: crash, halt, thunder, thud, screech, explode, bark… Add -ed to any of these and feel your heart race.

Examples of soft sounding verbs are: whisper, swish, snap, patter, drawl, rustle… Add -ing to any of these and feel your breathing slow, your neck muscles ease.

Here is an excellent resource with words broken down by the five senses…sight, touch, hearing, taste, smell: http://fcw.needham.k12.ma.us/~cristina_malinn/S02B36079.0/ for those times when the right word escapes you. I love this list; it’s my go-to place when my brain refuses to cooperate.

When I’m in the “zone” writing with rhythmic beats becomes natural. I even find myself striking the keys during suspenseful moments. Or brushing over them as I write easy-going passages. Perhaps Robert Frost was including sentence rhythm when he wrote his famous quote: “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.”

If we don’t feel our words we cannot expect anyone else to, either.

As I go through Marred I remember how I felt when I wrote the words. And, in turn, the passages evoke the same visceral responses in me. It’s wonderful, like reuniting with family members I haven’t seen for a while. I’d forgotten how much I loved this story. I poured a lot of myself into this book. Not the plot, not even the main conflict. Little things in each character, but real, sometimes raw, pieces of my soul. I think all writers do that to a certain extent. Don’t you?

Your turn. Do you like to use sentence rhythm in your writing? What attracts you to certain authors? How much of yourself are in your stories and/or characters?

 

Looking for a way to commit fictional murder? Sign up for my FREE booklet 50 Ways To Murder Your Fictional Characters. Or, get a taste of what you’ll find inside here.

 

 

 

 

 

How To Use Emotion Memory

Brandilyn Collins’ has a fantastic craft book entitled Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets A Novelist Can Learn From Actors. I contacted Brandilyn to ask if I could share a ‘secret’ from her book, and she graciously agreed.

This ‘secret’ is about using your Emotion Memory. As crime writers we often have to pull from real life, twisting facts to suit our needs. For example, I’ve never murdered anyone, but I can certainly make you think I have. And this is exactly what Brandilyn discusses in this scene. She can turn anyone into a murderer, including you.

If you’d like to find out more about Brandilyn Collins and her “seatbelt suspense” novels or craft books, you can find her at: http://www.brandilyncollins.com. To buy your copy of Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets A Novelist Can Learn From Actors go here or on Amazon here.

Now sit back. Get ready to transform into a killer…

Finally, the time has come. The time set aside just for you, when the guests have waved goodbye after their weekend stay. You are alone in the house and exhausted. You don’t care that you have work to do. All you can think of is: The Book.

You were reading it, loving it before the guests came. But all during the week you could only catch bits and pieces of it after falling into bed each night, your eyes fighting sleep. Last night you managed to read for almost an hour. You only have fifty pages left, and you can’t wait to see how it all turns out.

Your guests now gone, you make a beeline for the book, grab it from the nightstand and hurry to the family room. There, your steps slow. You want to enjoy this long-awaited time to its fullest. Tossing the book on the couch, you head for the kitchen to make your favorite hot drink to sip and savor as you read.

You hum a little tune as you make the drink. Its wonderful aroma tickles your nose as you carry the hot mug into the family room and place it on an end table. You pick up your book, settle into the couch with a sigh. Smiling, you open the novel, slip out the bookmark and begin to read.

Your eyes glide over the pages, your muscles relax, your mind empties of all but the events in the novel. Once in a while you pick up your mug, sip your drink. The house is quiet save for the distance ticking of a clock in the kitchen. You wish this time would never end.

The scene you’re reading heats up. Oh, no! The heroine can’t do that; whatever will become of her? And what about her nemesis — you know he’s still up to no good. Surely he’ll leap from the pages any moment now, aiming his intended miseries at the characters you are cheering. You turn the page. Aha. There he is. Oh no, surely he won’t–

A fly cruises across the room.

Your eyes flick at it distractedly, then back to the book. You continue reading, devouring the words. Oh, the passions. You feel the scenes. They sweep you off your feet, transport you. You want to hurry and finish the story to see what happens; you want the story to never end. You’re almost done with the chapter. The evil adversary is turning to the hero and heroine, opening his mouth–

The fly buzzes against the family room window, backs up, then buzzes into it again.

Your eyes lift with irritation from the page, first to stare unseeing across the room as you listen, then to blink into a narrowed gaze at the fly. He is annoying. He is big. He is disturbing your peace, your moment. Why won’t he go away?

He buzzes, smacks the window repeatedly.

You pull your eyes back to your book. You continue reading, your forehead etched in a frown of concentration.

A few minutes pass. Purposefully ignoring the fly, you finish the chapter. Oh, what a hook! What will happen now? You turn the page, eager to continue. Without missing a word you grope for the mug with your left hand, raise it to your lips. Ah, the drink’s still warm.

You read on. The book’s main secret is about to be revealed. You can sense it coming. You think you know, but you’re not sure. You read on, swept here and there as your characters run for their lives. Now through a forest, now facing a raging river. How will they cross? The hero is too weak–

The buzz-against-the-glass abruptly stops. Zzzzzz. The fly cruises the room again. He circles your head. You wave him away, still reading. He circles once more, exploring, coming in for a closer look, invading your space. You smack at him — and miss. He circles. You glare at him now, your eyes following his route. Your mouth tightens; the muscles in your thighs tense. You tap a thumb against the page of your book, reading momentarily forgotten. The fly lands across the room on the television set. You stare at it, half daring it to move.

It doesn’t.

You inhale. Shift your position. Your eyes return to the page, flitting until they find where you left off. Ah, yes, the river.

You start reading. Within seconds you are again engrossed in the story. The water is rising above the couple; their nemesis is closing in. You’re still not sure of what he wants, what he will do when he reaches them. He is yelling something over the boiling waters, his voice fading in and out of the torrents. The heroine screams at him–

The fly buzzes from the television and right by you. The sound reverberates in your ears. Then stops. You swivel your head to see the fly crawling, fleeing his way with his nasty little legs along the rim of your cup. Your cup! Anger kicks across your nerves. Your arm flashes out and scares him back into the air. The buzzing resumes — right in front of your nose.

“That’s it!” You throw down your book and push off the couch, seething. The ugly creature flies around the room — your room — like he owns the place. Who does he think he is, disturbing you like that? Can’t you have even one hour of peace in your own house? After all the company and hostessing and work? Can’t you just be allowed to read your book and enjoy yourself for one lousy minute?

Muttering, you swivel on your heel and head for the kitchen, in search of something, anything, to get rid of this creature once and for all. You grab a newspaper section of the kitchen table, roll it, and pace back into the family room, smacking it against your palm. The fly still cruises. You lurch to stop, your head on a constant swivel as you follow his flight. From the corner of your eye you notice that your book has fallen shut on the couch. Fresh angers jags up your chest. Now that wretched beast has caused you to lose your place!

The fly lands on the coffee table. You stride three steps and bring down the newspaper hard. Thwack. The fly lifts into the air, buzzing even harder. You exhale loudly, cursing under your breath. You were too mad, moved to quickly. You’ll have to do this steady-like, smooth. Have to think before you move.

You draw up straight, stand perfectly still, except for your head, which still follows the fly’s path. The newspaper rests in your palm. You like the feel of it, the deadly force it promises. Now if only you can sneak up on that fly. You even breathe quietly lest it hear you. You command control of your own body, centering your focus on killing the fly — nothing else.

You don’t stop to think that the fly is merely foraging for food he needs to exist. It doesn’t occur to you that he means you no harm, that he’s probably seeking a way to get out of your house. You certainly don’t stop to think that he may have family, that he may be missed once he’s dead. Such an absurd notion would not last one second within your brain. Who could possibly care about this disgusting creature? And even if someone did, he has invaded your space. He deserves to die.

The fly lands on the window. Your eyes narrow. You are careful this time — oh, so careful. Stealthily, silently, you creep across the carpet. Your fingers tighten around the newspaper. You hardly dare breathe. Three more steps. You arm begins to draw back. Two more steps. Your shoulder muscles tighten. One more step. You glide to a halt, eyes never leaving the fly. You swallow. Pull back your arm further, fingers sinking into the newspaper. Every sinew in your upper body crackles with anticipation.

Your arm snaps forward. The newspaper whistles through the air. Thwack!! The force of the hit sends shock waves up your arm.

The fly drops like stone.

Yes! You’ve killed him!

You stand there, breathing hard, eyeing the dead fly. Your arm lowers, your fingers relax their grip. A slow, slick smile twists your lips. Your head tilts slightly, your eyebrows rise.

“Hah!” The words echo in the room, hard and snide. “That’ll teach you!”

You survey your handiwork, gloating some more, vindictiveness and satisfaction swirling. The fly is such an ugly thing. Black, mangled, dirty. Couldn’t even die with dignity. It lies there, trashing up your nicely painted windowsill. Your lip curls. How disgusting.

That fly deserved everything it got.

One thing’s for certain. If any other fly comes along, you won’t waste precious time trying to ignore it. Oh, no, you’ve got the actions down now. Next time, one tiny buzz, and you’ll be off that couch, newspaper ready. It’ll be so much easier next time…

But for now you must get rid of your victim. Its very sight nauseates you. You tear off a piece of the newspaper, and use it to pick up the body — gingerly, being careful not to touch it. No telling what sort of germs and filth it carries. You walk into the bathroom, throw it into the toilet. Flush it down. You watch it swirl faster, tighter, until it finally disappears. You smack down the toilet lid.

Now you are done.

You take a breath. Where were you? What was going on in your life before you were so rudely interrupted? Ah, of course! Reading! You hurry back to your book, your mind already racing to remember where you left off. You throw yourself back onto the couch, pick up the novel, flip through pages, find your last-read sentence.

Two minutes later you are once again engrossed in the story, living and breathing along with the characters. Your house is so peaceful. Life is wonderful. You are happy.

You settle back, devouring the words. Reveling in your contentment. The fly is forgotten.

Almost.

Except for within that one part of you. That one separate part that cocks an ear, stands guard over your space, protectively listening for — almost anticipating — the buzz of the next fly…

See? Killers, all.

And it’s not just the killing. It’s the sneering, cold-hearted emotion that leads up to it. Then the smirking when it’s done. Followed by the focus on the aftermath — what needs to be cleaned up?

If I can turn you into a murderer, you can turn yourself into any character you need to write. Remember, there is no emotion known to man that you have not experienced.

What did I tell you — fabulous, right?

Looking for a way to commit fictional murder? Sign up for my FREE booklet 50 Ways To Murder Your Fictional Characters. Or, get a taste of what you’ll find inside here.

How Story Structure Relates To Our Lives

I’ve become a structure-holic. I see it everywhere: books, TV, movies, and in life. This obsession has now spilled over into my blog. Because I firmly believe knowing how to structure our novels is crucial. It ensures our stories flow properly, shows our character arc, and gives readers satisfaction. When it comes to writing fiction it’s everything. Which, to me, makes it awesome. It’s the magic bullet that can make our dreams come true. I know this for a fact… stay tuned for an upcoming post on how I know this.

Think of it this way…

Human beings have structure — flesh, organs, tissue, arteries, veins, water and muscle all have their place. No matter what race, religion or creed, we are the same. What braces all the stuff that makes up our bodies is our skeleton — structure.

We may look different on the outside… some have big noses, full lips, different skin and eye color… but we all started the same way…

As an egg — story idea.

That egg was fertilized in the womb and grew into something more, but it still hadn’t fully formed into a male or female yet — concept.

We evolved into a living, breathing human being and entered the world — character.

We grew up to think and feel differently, have different worldviews, religions, heart and soul — theme.

And we lived our lives… our story — premise.

Some people are more giving, outwardly loving. Some are not comfortable with affection. But it’s all because of how we were raised or because of something that happened in our past to change us — backstory.

As I tell this story I want you to think back over your life. We’ve all gone through hard times, some worse than others. Humor me, and if you don’t know structure now you will at least start to grasp it by the time you’re done with this post. That’s my hope anyway.

So, we’ve been born and we’re growing up, maturing or have already matured. Whichever applies to that specific time in your life.

We got a job, perhaps married and had children. But kept our inner demons, our flaws — Act I — 1st quartile: Set Up << which begins character arc, introduces characters, sets up FPP, foreshadows future events, etc. 

And then something happened to throw our lives out of balance. This defining moment demanded that we act. We could not hide from it. It forced us to DO something — First Plot Point, at 20-25%.

After this crucial moment occurred an antagonist force entered our lives, or it was there all along and only now revealed itself — 1st Pinch Point, at 3/8th mark or 37.5%.

We reeled, flailed, resisted, and failed — Act II — 2nd quartile: Response 

We either did something to fix the problem or the problem worsened. All the while we kept thinking things could not get much worse. Or, we believed we’d finally solved the problem. But it was a false victory or a false defeat — Midpoint, at 50%.

So we needed to attack the problem head on, because it’s wasn’t going away — Act III — 3rd quartile: Attack << our true character changes again and we become a warrior.

But then, we realized that we hadn’t actually solved anything. We’d only made it worse. Or, the victory we felt was short-lived because we didn’t realize X,Y,Z was around the corner waiting to blow everything up. Things looked bleak. We believed it just couldn’t get any worse — All Is Lost Moment.

But how did we really feel about this? What sort of impact did it have on us? — Dark Night of the Soul.

We stopped our pity party because it wasn’t doing us any good. Besides, we’re stronger now than we were when we started this quest.

Then something else changed. Or, we discovered something that aided us in seeing a glimmer at the end of a very dark road — 2nd Plot Point, at 75%.

And we began to see that there was in fact a way we could fix our lives — Act IV — 4th quartile: Resolution << this act completes character arc

And then we got another peek at the antagonist force. Only now it was more terrifying than ever because it too had upped its game — 2nd Pinch Point, at 5/8th mark. For more on Pinch Points go here.

The only way to defeat this force was to overcome our fears, inner demons, flaws and meet this force head on. And to live with ourselves we knew we were the ones who had to fight this final battle, using everything we’d learned in life thus far, about ourselves and the world around us — Climax.

And then we could live happily ever after, or as happy as we could in our new world. We grew as individuals, faced our fears, and had come out stronger for the effort. We’d settled into our new lives — Resolution.

And that’s it… story structure as it relates to our lives. Obviously you need to start with a great hook. For more on How to Write a Killer Hook go here.

Could you think of a time in your life when this applied to you? Hold on to that and you’ll never forget story structure, at least at its basic level.

Happy writing!

Looking for a way to commit fictional murder? Sign up for my FREE booklet 50 Ways To Murder Your Fictional Characters. Or, get a taste of what you’ll find inside here.

How To Write A Killer Hook

I was having a conversation about creating a killer hook with my writing coach and friend, critically acclaimed author Larry Brooks, and it got me thinking about how others could benefit from his advice.

We all know how important a great hook is, regardless of genre. This becomes especially important with thrillers. Without a killer hook a reader could close your book before the story takes off, your chance of finding an agent or editor goes right out the window, because most will only give you a few pages to pique their interest, your book could be destined to collect dust on a shelf, virtual or otherwise.

So now that we know why we need a killer hook, let’s talk about how to create one that grabs the reader by the throat and won’t let go.

If anyone knows how to create a killer hook it’s Larry, author of Story Engineering as well as many other craft books — link to his e-bookstore is in my Crime Writer’s Resource. During our conversation I discovered I was doing myself a disservice by not starting my books in the best place for maximum impact. Sure, I started in the middle of the action after I’d made sure to invest the reader in my protagonist. Blah, blah, blah. The internet is chock full of that advice.

But how about starting further along in the story you’re telling?

This is certainly not new advice. Screenwriters are taught this early on. Watch any crime show and you’ll probably see a murder or an intense scene involving the main character in terrible trouble. For some reason, though, novelists don’t always do this. Maybe it’s because no one comes right out and tells us this is a kickass way to write a Hook. For me, I’ve read many bestsellers that use this technique in the Prologue, but because agents/editors frown upon using Prologues I wrote it off as something I couldn’t do until I had proven myself as a writer.

Baloney! That was self-doubt rearing its ugly head and nothing more. Why, oh, why do we listen to that little voice? I’m kicking myself now — and rewriting all my hooks.

For those going traditional, call the hook Chapter One instead of Prologue. Then, in Chapter Two, write your chapter headline as “Five Days Earlier”, or whatever the case may be. This is perfectly acceptable, will meet the standards of what agents/editors are looking for from an unpublished writer, and you’ll have a killer hook that will increase your chances of getting full requests and possibly lead to representation.

Let me show you exactly what I’m talking about.

In the book I’m reading now for example… one of Larry’s fast-paced thrillers, Pressure Points… OMG, what a hook! It nearly knocked me off my couch.

Before I tell you about it I’ll show you what first attracted me to the story. This is the blurb…

The game is a weeklong retreat. It’s located in a remote region of northern California. It’s designed to build teamwork, establish trust, and increase awareness.

The players are three ambitious executives — one woman and two men, each prepared to put his physical, mental, and moral limits to the test. They never dreamed how far they could go.

The rules are simple. First you run. Then you hide. Don’t appear weak, don’t admit to the fear, and don’t react to the pain.

The prize is staying alive. Let the game begin.

You can see why it piqued my interest, right?

All three characters have their inner demons ranging from self-doubt to total control-freak. The goal for each is to be made CEO of this gazillion dollar company. The present CEO told them if they completed the seminar (retreat) he’d sell them the business for way less than market value and appoint one of them CEO in his place, depending on how they did at the seminar. The farther I read the more I realized none of the three executives particularly liked one another, so just deciding whether to go to the retreat was a tense meeting of the minds.

The Hook Larry used was one of the best I’ve ever read. It starts out with a man running for his life through dark woods, cold, terrified, barely dressed. When he finally reaches the road he hears his name whispered in the blackness. But the reader has no idea who he is. And then, the man collapses. Dies right there on a deserted stretch of asphalt.

Bam! I’m in 100%. There’s no getting away from this story now even if I wanted to.

And that, writer peeps, is what a great hook does. It forces the reader to keep flipping pages to answer questions raised in the hook. Now, do you have to use this technique in your hook? No. There are plenty of great stories out there that start at a certain point in time and continue forward. This is just another way of doing it. And one that works remarkably well.

To use this technique correctly you can’t simply take your climax and stick it at the beginning. That will get you nowhere fast. You’ll also ruin a crucial part of your story. The Hook also doesn’t have to be a moment that occurs in the climax. It can set up the First Plot Point, the Midpoint, the Second Plot Point, the Climax, anywhere really. Doesn’t matter. The choice is yours.

For instance, in my WIP the Hook sets up the Midpoint, because at the Midpoint the story does a 180 to the point of no return. It’s the part of the story that raises the most questions and, therefore, the perfect spot for a Hook. And that’s the point you need to find in your story, where the most questions are raised, a tease, a tantalizing peek at what’s to come. But I’ll tell you, when using this technique it’s easy to forget to invest the reader in your protagonist. Which brings me to…

How To Get Readers To Root For Your Hero

Contrary to what many believe readers do not have to like your main character. I hear boos and the shaking of disapproving heads. Stay with me. They don’t have to “like” your hero but they do need to “empathize” with him/her. And that’s the key word… empathy.

How do we do that?

Let’s hear from the man himself, Larry Brooks. This quote is from Storyfix…

“… we readers need to recognize something of ourselves.  We need to empathize. Most of all, we need to get a sense of what the hero’s inner demons are.  What is their backstory, what are the worldviews and attitudes and prejudices and fears that define them and hold them back?  What are their untapped strengths, their unwitting secrets?  These are the things the hero must later, when squaring off with the antagonistic force, be forced to acknowledge in order to step up as the primary catalyst in the story’s conclusion.”

I’m not suggesting you dump a whole lot of information about the protagonist in the opening pages. Kill me now if you think that’s what I’m proposing. Just sprinkle enough inner demons, wants, needs and/or desires to create empathy. The rest of their backstory you can pepper throughout the novel. Especially the first quartile — the first 20%-25% — the set up phase before the First Plot Point — the most important moment in your story, because that’s when your main character begins their quest. I’ve briefly written about this before (and I’m sure I’ll write about it again) in How To Create A One-Page Synopsis Using Story Beats, which you can check out here.

So, what do you think of starting your novel much later in the story? Have you read any good books that use this technique, or are you using it in your novel? Tell me about it in the comments.

I wish those who celebrate a safe and fun Memorial Day weekend.

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