What dreams may come

An old adage says to edit when you are sober but write when you’re drunk. The point is that intoxication opens the mind to possibilities that the sober mind would never consider. The same can be said for dreaming. During dreams, strange and creative ideas float up from the subconscious, ideas that are normally suppressed behind day-to-day mundanity.

I’ve written several stories based on dreams I’ve had, but I can’t really remember which ones. That’s the thing about dreams, their imagery is intense, sometimes startling, but only for a moment. Then the mind buries them again upon waking. At least that’s how it works for me.

A few weeks ago, I had a very powerful dream that I thought would make an excellent idea for a short story. I woke long enough to use the bathroom and considered writing the idea down. But it was so strongly in my mind at that moment, that I figured I would have no trouble remembering it come daybreak. But when I woke, I was left only with the memory of having had a great idea, not with any memory of the idea itself.

So, my advice to all my writer friends is, when those great ideas flick into your head, write them down. It may save you some sleepless nights kicking yourself.  

The vagaries of publication

If you want to get your writing in front of the big NY publishers, you need a literary agent. However, I haven’t had much success pitching my novels to literary agents. I think this stems from a variety of factors, the main one being that most agents are looking for younger writers that appeal to younger readers; Millennials and Gen-Z are the biggest audience for books these days. As any of you who have read Project Suicide or Checkout Time know, my writing ain’t woke.😊

Lately, I’ve tried querying smaller traditional publishers that don’t require representation by an agent. The chances of acceptance are much higher, but these smaller presses come with their own problems. A recent submission is a case in point.

Just before Christmas, I submitted the first fifty pages of my dark thriller The Peeper to one such small press. A week later they requested a full manuscript. A few days after that they said they were “definitely” interested and would send me a contract. The holidays came and went without hearing anything. So, a few days ago I followed up. Turns out the definitely was really definitely maybe. The editor now said that they liked the book but didn’t want to take it on because it wasn’t part of a series. While I understand the reasoning (series sell better) it might have been nice to know early on that this was a necessary criterion.

This is the second time similar thing has happened to me. Early last year, a small traditional press was thrilled with the first chapter of And a Child Shall Lead Him, but just wanted to see a couple more chapters before pulling the trigger. I sent the chapters, and they acknowledged receipt. Then my follow up emails met with cricket chirps.

Just goes to show that the path to publication is fraught with obstacles that good writing cannot necessarily

Even masters can flub the ending.

One of the things about being a fiction writer is that you can no longer read novels like a reader. You admire things that everyday readers never notice and catch mistakes that most readers miss. This is both satisfying and a bit annoying.

I recently read Cape Fear by John D MacDonald. Some of you may know this story from the two movies that it inspired, one with Gregory Peck and Robert Mitchum, the other with Nick Nolte and Robert DeNiro. It is basically a tale of a psychopath out to get the lawyer he thinks responsible for his imprisonment, and how little the law can help if the nut is crafty.

MacDonald is a great writer and so I enjoyed the book. However, the ending was disappointing. Note: Here there be Spoilers. 😊

The story is written from one point of view, that of Sam Bowden, the protagonist. The buildup is solid, with readers experiencing each new depraved act of Max Cady (the villain) through Sam’s eyes. But the problem with a single point of view is that the reader can only experience what this character experiences. This is especially true for the climax. The problem with Cape Fear is that Sam isn’t present for the climax, which is perpetrated against his wife and a private eye. So, the reader never gets to experience the climactic struggle, only hear about it second hand.

Sam shows up only as Cady is leaving the crime scene. Sam fires blindly as Cady escapes, leaving room for Cady and Sam to eventually have it out. In fact, this is what I was expecting. Instead, Cady’s body is found by the police, the victim of one of Sam’s random shots.

As a writer of thrillers, I think it is important that the readers get to experience the climax that the whole novel builds toward. I’m not sure why MacDonald chose to miss this opportunity, but as I said, it is still a well-written and entertaining read.  

Great story coupled to great writing is, in a word, great!

I just watched Silence of the Lambs for the umpteenth time. What a great film based on a great book. As I watched it yet again, I noticed quite a few plot holes. For example, how does Lektor, a long-time prisoner with no access to a gym, have the strength to secure one dead-weight body high on a wall and to drag another one onto the roof of an elevator—all in relatively short order? Likewise, although I have lost a lot of faith in the FBI of late, I still think they could find photos that are practically bulging out of a music box, and that they could figure out that the first (and only hidden) body might have been killed by someone the victim knew. 😊

The thing about this movie is that you don’t notice these things at first, and when you do notice them, they don’t seem to matter. Why? Because it is so darn well written and executed. You have a likeable protagonist and an interesting villain. You also have extremely ingenious plot with clever turns and twists. This is something Stephen King also does very well, to similar effect.

There is an old saying that “story trumps writing.” When you have both, that’s a true gem!

Research is now more about selecting than searching

I enjoyed both writers’ conferences last month, but especially enjoyed leading a workshop on research in fiction at Imaginarium. Research is a necessary part of fiction writing because the reader has to believe in the authenticity of the tale. In years past, research was an onerous process of visiting libraries, searching through encyclopedias and card catalogues, visiting locations, and chatting with experts. Ever since the advent of the internet, however, all knowledge is virtually at your fingertips. You can see location details on google maps and learn about almost anything on sites like Wikipedia and YouTube. So, the focus has shifted from searching to selecting, meaning that the most important aspect is knowing what to leave out of your writing. Too much technical detail slows the pace and makes your thriller read like a training manual.

There are several ways to simplify the research process. First, the old adage, write what you know. A plumber who wants to write a courtroom drama has to do a lot more research than a lawyer. Another important point is to sometimes let the reader’s imagination fill in the blanks. That is to say, one doesn’t necessarily need to describe bars, offices, or police stations because the reading public already knows what these places look like (or think they know.). These are two of my top six tips on researching fiction. If you are interested in learning more, just drop me an email.

Summertime--and the reading is easy!

Summer is here, which is always a good time for reading. As a boy, I spent many afternoons in a Detroit library. It was free entertainment and free air conditioning as well. 😊

I love reading novels from the 1950s through the 1970s. The writing was so much richer then. Some of the books are overwritten, such as The Manchurian Candidate that I recently read. But a lot of the authors get things right. I’d say that applied to Harvest Home by Tom Tryon. I had never read a book by the painter turned actor turned novelist, so I thought I’d give it a try. I once watched the miniseries (The Dark Secret of Harvest Home) so already knew the ending. But even so, I found the writing to be tense, spooky, and richly descriptive. I would highly recommend it.

Sumer is also a time for writing conferences. I have two coming up this month. The first is The Imaginarium in Louisville, KY. I’m looking forward to this eclectic collection of writers, gamers, musicians, and independent film makers. I’ll be teaching a workshop on using research in fiction writing and will be sitting on two author panels.

I’ll only have a few days off before heading to the Midwest Writer’s Workshop in Muncie Indiana. I’ve attended this conference for several years and will enjoy touching base with writing friends and mentors such as Larry Sweazy, Matthew Clemens, and John Gilstrap. Always enjoyable and hopefully I’ll sell a book or three.

Hope to see you at a conference or elsewhere down the road.

Stay tuned!

It would ruin my book!

I know a published author who was approached by LifeTime about turning one of his novels into a teleplay. The network wanted to make some changes that would have altered the location and updated the time period, among other things. He considered their offer, then declined with the phrase, “No. It would ruin my book.” What exactly does that mean?

A book exists whether or not they make a movie based on it. It has substance and can be purchased exactly as you wrote it. The book still exists unaltered even if you sell the movie rights to someone who changes the story and characters around. Ultimately, a book stands on its own, regardless of derivative treatments. The book is the book. A movie based on the book is a movie. These two things do not necessarily overlap.

I enjoy reading the source material for movies I like. Recently I read The Authentic Death of Hendry Jones, on which the great Marlon Brando vehicle One-Eyed Jacks was based. These two treatments were poles apart. With the exception of some character names, locales, and one or two scenes, they had nothing in common. Evidently, the movie producer, screen writer, and director (Brando) had a vision quite different than the book author (Charles Neider). Yet I enjoyed both. More importantly, both existed and were entertaining despite the fact that they were quite different.

In my opinion, authors (especially little-known authors) shoot themselves in the foot by this pompous attitude. A movie or teleplay treatment of your book does not alter the book, so it is not possible to ruin it. What it does is provide additional monies and publicity for your book. Even if the movie treatment is lousy, your book still benefits from a new cover with something like “Now a major motion picture” on it.

Win! Win! Win!

Story trumps writing

I’m a bit of an odd duck in that I like reading the source books for movies I enjoy. This is a no-no for many because the plot is no longer a surprise. However, knowing how things turn out doesn’t bother me, and I like to see how the books differ from the movies.

In this vein, I just finished reading The Manchurian Candidate, a 1959 political thriller by Richard Condon. Some of you might be familiar with the story from the movies, one in the 1960s with Frank Sinatra and one in the 1990s with Denzel Washington. I’m a big fan of the 1962 movie, so I jumped on a chance to buy the book as a used paperback.

There is an adage that the book is always better than the movie. But I didn’t have to read long before I knew this wasn’t always the case. I was prepared for Condon’s writing style to be dated and a bit flowery, given that the book was published in the 1950s. But I wasn’t prepared for the wasteful verbosity that greatly slowed the pace without adding appreciably to character development.

My beloved Elmore Leonard once said that he never described anything unless it added appreciably to story or character development. This is especially important for a thriller, where the story has to trip along like a ticking timebomb. Condon evidently didn’t know this, or if he did his ego got in the way. There were loads of darlings that needed to be killed here. 😊

Condon describes everything in excruciating detail and provides a vast (probably thirty pages worth) backstory on Raymond’s parents and stepfather. This is not integral to the plot and simply exhausts the reader with minutia about the lack of character of these people. That is to say, you don’t need thirty pages to show that Senator and Mrs. Iselin are miserable people, and that Raymond hates them.   

As I read, I was reminded of another adage: story trumps writing. This means that a killer plot that captures public imagination always triumphs over quality writing. I think that was the case here. Condon’s story of how brainwashing is used to remove will and conscience, turning an otherwise law-abiding if dull individual into a perfect assassin, is brilliant. It came out at a time when people had just learned how these techniques were used by Chinese and North Koreans to torture American prisoners and, in some cases, turn them against their own country; techniques that would be continued by the North Vietnamese. Even today, this idea captures the public consciousness, which is probably why both the 1960s and 1990s movies were successful.

As a fiction writer, it can be frustrating to see someone overwrite to this degree and still publish a bestselling thriller. But, instead of bemoaning it, I strive to improve the impact of my own plot ideas. In some respects, this was inspiration for Project Suicide, which is a high-concept political-technothriller. Now, all I need is someone in Hollywood to notice it. 😊