Chelsea Cain Interview by William Kenower

An excellent interview. One of the comments she makes toward the end regarding what she's learned from writing her most recent novel is exactly what I learned from reading Dean Koontz. Now if I can only apply it appropriately!











It's all better with friends.

Writing Action Scenes

The way I read an action scene is not the way I should write an action scene.

I tend to hurdle through the scene, hitting the top notes and every other chord. The intensity and speed of the thing compels me to read wildly fast—as if I have to keep up.

I miss the subtleties. The lower notes. The smells.

If you read action scenes like I do, I encourage you to go back later and read them s-l-o-w. Taste what the author has folded into the words to make each one count. To make you feel and hear and smell the action.



Don't forget the anticipation that is often just before an action scene. Dean Koontz is one of the best at this. If you haven't read him, pick up one of his books and experience a master.

For the build-up, I could write:

"Abby walked down to the end of the dark street."

I mean, that's what happened. Right? And we know it's whatever happens at the end of the street that matters most in this scene.

But what if I add an empty sack from a fast food restaurant skittering on the pavement? Clouds obscuring the moon and a distant roll of thunder. Palm fronds flapping. She smelled the rain on its way, layering over the cooking smells slipping out from the closely stacked frame and shingle houses that lined the street. The slap, slap of her shoes as they hit the ground. Goosebumps appearing on her exposed arms. Details heighten the mood. The anxiety. The terror.

And details will help to slow the action down—make the scene memorable—when she gets to the end of the street and meets who, or what, is waiting for her.




CR: The Siege by Stephen White.

It's all better with friends.

Introducing . . . PD Koontz

I've mentioned here several times that I want to be Dean Koontz when I grow up.

After reading the following quote from The Private Patient by PD James, I'm kinda leaning toward being PD Koontz:

"The world is a beautiful and terrible place. Deeds of horror are committed every minute and in the end those we love die. If the screams of all earth's living creatures were one scream of pain, surely it would shake the stars. But we have love. It may seem a frail defence against the horrors of the world but we must hold fast and believe in it, for it is all that we have."

It doesn't get much better than that.

CR: Vanished by Joseph Finder, and thoroughly enjoying every page.

It's all better with friends.

The Delight is in the Details

An author who has recently caught my eye is Joseph Finder. I've only read two of his so far, but I sit back and think . . . this guy knows a lot about a lot.

I'm currently reading the new Dean Koontz. If you've read my blog very much, you know I find much to like about Koontz. Even to the point that I want to be him when I grow up. That's not to say he doesn't disappoint, but so far, Breathless is amazing.

He's using a sentence structure from time to time that makes me stumble a bit, but I like to give an artist the opportunity to try a different brush stroke before I decide I don't like the painting. I might blog about that later.

But what I've noticed, yet again, is the detail he imbues his stories with. Joe Finder does the same thing. I'm reading the words, learning (because I often learn through fiction) and thinking that this guy is the ultimate Renaissance Man.

How does he choose where to release the detail and how much can he release before it becomes an Information Dump?

I've learned in previous Koontz novels (and this one as well) that rats make nests in certain palm trees. Is that creepy, or what?

In Breathless I learned that thoroughbreds do better with their own companion animals; about choosing a base color in weaving, and a whole lot more about veterinary medicine than the average guy knows. Even a little about carving furniture and inlaying the wood with metal.

It's the tiny detail that underlines a moment. A scene. A thought. It's the tiniest bit of information that stamps it with the "reality" stamp.

As a reader, how does it effect you? As a writer, do you think you've found the balance?

CR: Breathless by Dean Koontz. Almost to the end, I've thoroughly enjoyed this tale. Hoping I don't get disappointed by the ending.

It's all better with friends.

Do First Lines Stack Up?

As writers, we are taught that opening lines are important.

They do more than grab the reader, though. They set the tone. They let the reader know what they have gotten themselves into. They raise a question or two.

I wondered if books I read this year or fifteen-plus years ago, and count as my favorites, would follow this element of craft. So here are a few. See what you think:

Sidda is a girl again in the hot heart of Louisiana, the bayou world of Catholic saints and voodoo queens. It is Labor Day, 1959, at Pecan Grove Plantation, on the day of her daddy's annual dove hunt. While the men sweat and shoot, Sidda's gorgeous mother, Vivi, and her gang of friends, the Ya-Yas, play bourree, a cut-throat Louisiana poker, inside the air conditioned house. On the kitchen blackboard is scrawled: SMOKE, DRINK, NEVER THINK–borrowed from Billie Holiday. When the ladies take a break, they feed the Petites Ya-Yas (as Ya-Ya offspring are called) sickly sweets of maraschino cherries from the fridge in the wet bar. ~ Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells, 1996

* * *

It had become common chatter at Brightwood Hospital—better known for three hundred miles around Detroit as Hudson's Clinic—that the chief was all but dead on his feet. The whole place buzzed with it. ~ Magnificent Obsession by Lloyd C. Douglas, 1929

* * *

Charlie Croker, astride his favorite Tennessee Walking Horse, pulled his shoulders back to make sure he was erect in the saddle and took a deep breath . . . Ahhh, that was the ticket . . . He loved the way his mighty chest rose and fell beneath his khaki shirt and imagined that everyone in the hunting party noticed how powerfully built he was. ~ A Man in Full by Tom Wolfe, 1998

* * *

Suppose that you and I were sitting in a quiet room overlooking a garden, chatting and sipping at our cups of green tea while we talked about something that happened a long while ago, and I said to you, "That afternoon when I met so-and-so . . . was the very best afternoon of my life, and also the very worst afternoon." I expect you might put down your teacup and say, "Well, no, which is it? Was it the best of the worse? Because it can't possibly have been both!" Ordinarily I'd have to laugh at myself and agree with you. But the truth is that the afternoon when i met Mr. Tanaka Ichiro really was the best and the worse of my life. He seemed so fascinating to me, even the fish smell on his hands was a kind of perfume. If I had never known him, I'm sure I would not have become a geisha. ~ Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden, 1997

* * *

A man begins dying at the moment of his birth. Most people live in denial of Death's patient courtship until, late in life and deep in sickness, they become aware of him sitting bedside. ~ THE HUSBAND by Dean Koontz, 2006

* * *

The morning of the day I lost her, my daughter asked me to scramble her some eggs. ~ FEAR THE WORST by Linwood Barclay, 2009

My friend, author Donn Taylor, offers his (and I have to say, they're awesome):

From a John D. MacDonald mystery (I forget the name, and this is from memory, so I may not have the exact words): "We were about to call it a night and go home, when someone threw the girl off the bridge."

From Jack Higgins, The Savage Day: "They were getting ready to shoot someone in the inner courtyard, which meant it was Monday because Monday was execution day."

And please pardon my vanity if I submit two of my own:

From The Lazarus File: "Mark Daniel had never been hijacked before, but the man pointing a pistol at his heart was rapidly filling that gap in his experience."

From Rhapsody in Red: "That Wednesday two weeks before Thanksgiving was a bad day to find a corpse on campus."

Huh. It looks to me like the good ones start out pretty good. The trick is, of course, staying good and ending good. Maybe I'll take a look at endings in another post.

What about your favorites? Do they make you proud they're a favorite, or muddy the waters?

CR: Green by Ted Dekker

It's all better with friends.

RELENTLESSLY KOONTZ

I'm reading a new novel by one of my favorite authors, Dean Koontz.

Relentless is written in first person. It starts off with backstory, then a mention of his guardian angel that had been with him since he was six, and how Ralph (the angel) suddenly went on sabbatical when he was thirty-four. Hint, hint.

More backstory.

A reference to what his family would come to call the situation they found themselves in (in his thirty-fourth year), and the fact they never expected Evil to "suddenly, intently turn its attention on our happy household or that this evil would be drawn to us by a book I had written."

Think the opening of Magnum, P.I. where Tom Selleck (who I could watch for days and days and days) does the voiceover for the upcoming episode.

Although well written, and interesting, Koontz pretty much throws everything I've learned about backstory and lousy foreshadowing out the window.

And yet the book has me totally entranced.

Why?

Because I trust Dean Koontz.

A new author I'd never read before? I might stick it out a bit more because the writing is good (other than what I've mentioned), but my red flag would be high and my drop-kick-it-to-the-wall boots would be primed.

Trust. It counts for a lot, doesn't it?

Huh. I guess I have a relationship with Dean. Of sorts. Kind of like my relationship with Tom Selleck.

By the way, if you want to read an excellent book where next to no backstory is used, except for out of the mouths of the characters in dialogue, you'll have to pick up a copy of The Good Guy. Written by . . . Dean Koontz.

You know what I'm reading.

It's all better with friends.

Backstory and Koontz

I just finished reading a great book by Dean Koontz. The Good Guy maintains a driven pace. There are no flashbacks whatsoever, and you really only get a good dose of backstory at the very end of the book.

Wanting to know is one of the mysteries that keeps the book riveting.

Backstory is dangerous in unskilled hands. It interrupts the now-story. There isn't as much drama and tension with stuff that's already happened. The outcome is known. It's very tricky to build anxiety when everyone is still breathing, and you know there's no chance of that changing.

I'm wary of writing backstory. The only reason to use it is to help anchor the present situation. If I can show things about my character over time (like Koontz does in The Good Guy), rather than tell things about my character, I'm not only not interrupting the pace, but maybe I'm adding to it.

I treat backstory like a strong spice. Too much and the flavor I'm going for is ruined and there's nothing to do but start over. (Well, with writing I've got the Delete key. I love that key, don't you? It gives me such a sense of freedom.)

I wish all of you a remarkably wonderful 2009, filled with spiritual, personal and professional growth. A year that includes amazing-good reads, and contracts galore.




Currently reading: Can't Wait to Get to Heaven by Fannie Flagg. (I know it's not a suspense, but we all need dimension in our lives. Plus, just seeing her name cracks me up.)

Working on: I asked for and received a Mac laptop for Christmas. I think I'm going to love it, but during this setup phase? Oy.

It's all better with friends.

So, A Little More on On Writing and Not Plotting

I'm beginning to think the really great writers are confident enough (insane/wonky/free enough) to just sit down, with as King says, a "situation", and let the story rumble.

I remember describing King years and years ago to others. I said that the amazing thing about his books is how he took a normal, everyday event/occurance/place and twisted it.

King talks about not plotting: "I'd suggest that what works for me may work equally well for you. If you are enslaved to (or intimidated by) the tiresome tyranny of the outline and the notebook filled with "Character Notes," it may liberate you. At the very least, it will turn your mind to something more interesting than Developing the Plot."

And: "Plot is, I think, the good writer's last resort and the dullard's first choice. The story which results from it is apt to feel artificial and labored."

And: "Story is honorable and trustworthy; plot is shifty, and best kept under house arrest."

My friend and critique partner, Susan Lohrer, sent this quote today from Dean Koontz: "I give my characters free will. The story is never outlined. They go where they want — and surprise me. When they speak, I don't force them to feed information to the reader and advance the story. If they want to digress, I let them. If each is a vivid individual, his or her dialogue will be unique. And often in the digressions, we learn about them and discover new dimensions in the story. When a character says something funny, I laugh out loud because it’s as if I'm hearing it, not writing it."

King's exhortations to be honest and truthful (and it seems Koontz would agree with him) are keys, I think, to allowing a situation to grow into a full-fledged, nail-biting story filled with people we can, on some level, identify with. I'm willing to give this situational writing a try and see what happens.

It's that basic "don't write for the Legion of Decency" hurdle that's a little scary to jump over. At least it is if you've always been the Good Girl.

I loved what he said about description: "Description begins in the writer's imagination, but should finish in the reader's."

Writers, readers and movie-goers were all saddened today to learn of the death of Michael Crichton. Our loss of his imagination and energy will leave a hole on earth.




Still plugging (albeit slowly) along in Nano. Trying to swing a little looser ala King and Koontz.

It's all better with friends.

Learning From the Masters

I have a loyalty gene that I've finally kicked to the gutter. Back in November, I blogged a bit about eight little words that Dean Koontz used that made my big toes punch through my socks before they blew off.

I found Stephen King before I'd ever heard of Dean Koontz. Someone told me that Koontz was way too far out there and way too scary. I believed them. I stuck with King. Until he started to seem way too far out there and way too scary. But the only Koontz book I ever read was one he co-wrote with King and I'm thinking whatever it was didn't leave a big impression.

What's a girl to do?

I'm about half-way through my very first Dean Koontz in its entirety. False Memory seemed to start a bit slow (as opposed to the beginnings I'd read of The Darkest Evening of the Year, or The Husband) but when it grabbed me, there was no going back.

Dean Koontz is a master. Plain and simple. He's got all the goods and is the real deal.

What I've Learned in 300 Pages:

*** His setting is as much a character as his characters. FM is in a moody, stormy Southern California. It's big. It's bad. But is it as bad as the characters' are imagining? Or is it worse?

*** He spends time developing that character of scene and setting. He takes out his paintbrush, and because the character is so vivid, the brush strokes so firm, you are NOT taken out of the story. If anything, you're pulled deeper into the danged thing.

*** Every scene grounds the reader in the location almost immediately. You don't have to play catch-up to the words. You get to start where the next piece starts. (I've decided that's just having good manners.)

*** He's not afraid of backstory. And when I recognized it and began to prepare myself to do a bit of skimming, I still got caught up in his writing. The backstory he shared was packed with meaning and emotion. It truly filled out the characters and the circumstance. It was never an author's need to dump parts of their fabulously drawn, in-depth character sketches.

*** God is in the details. To me, almost to a distraction . . . until I read a bit further and than appreciate him for not making me feel stupid. Because by golly, I now know exactly what he means by lacrimal ducts and why the creepy character is infatuated with them.

*** He puts energy and description and detail into EVERY scene, building EVERY character to their maximum story viability. He doesn't walk away just letting the reader "get it" or not.

When I grow up, I want to write like Dean Koontz.

It's all better with friends.

Economy of Words

This picture has nothing to do with the topic--I just like it. And by letting it sit a bit I've managed to convince myself it works. Oy. The imagination of a writer . . .

I belong to an online group called Booked for Breakfast. Suzanne Beecher provides snippets of soon to be released books from one publisher, Monday through Friday.

This week we've been peeking in on the new Dean Koontz, The Darkest Evening of the Year, available November 30th.

There's one line that made me drop my donut. It's only eight words, but those eight words paint a whole picture. Here they are:

"His face was a snarl of knotted threats."

Man, oh man. I would love to be able to string together a few words that speak volumes.

Wouldn't you? Do you have a favorite?

It's all better with friends.