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How to Lose Readers in Three Easy Steps—Step Three

January 18, 2018 by Steven Ramirez

This is the last in a three-part series on better writing. In Part One, I covered prologues and why I don’t like them. You can find that here. In Part Two, I delved into what I like to call “dithering,” or boring the reader to death before you can get to the frickin’ point. Click here to find out what I’m talking about. In this final installment, I want to cover something that, as least in my reading experience, is rare. Nevertheless, I think for the reader it’s a turn-off. Here we go.

Abandoning Your Protagonist
This one is a doozy and something that’s still hard for me to get my head around. I started reading a thriller that has received a number of excellent reviews on Amazon. For around the first third of the book, the author had me hooked. The protagonist—a woman—narrates the story which, layer by layer, leads the reader into a world of suburban madness and revenge. At times, I found myself marveling at the phrasing and keen sense of timing. Each character was well drawn and possessed a unique voice. And the narrator’s observations—wickedly funny!

Then, for no reason whatsoever, the author decides to abandon the protagonist, rewinding everything back to the beginning and picking up the story from some new character’s POV. Of course, I guessed that the two story lines would inevitably collide. But, to be honest, I didn’t stick around to find out. If this book hadn’t been sitting on my Kindle, I would’ve flung it against the wall in disgust. Needless to say, I was disappointed. So, what exactly did the author do wrong? Simple. He took me out of the world he’d created for my pleasure and sent me to jail (do not pass Go). He ruined the ride by making me get off in the middle and board a different ride. Here’s what I mean.

You’re watching the classic movie Blade Runner. From the opening shot, you’re hooked as Deckard is unwillingly drawn into a hunt for missing replicants who have already committed murder. Then, just as things are getting good, the director brings everything to a halt, and we go back to the beginning so we can follow Rachael and learn what she’s been up to while Deckard is running around the wet streets of Los Angeles with that fancy gun of his. Now, be honest. Even if you did decide to stay and finish your popcorn, wouldn’t it be jarring to be suddenly taken out of the story like that? Sure, it would.

What should the author have done? Well, if it were me, I would swtich POVs in alternating chapters. Take a look at these excerpts from the excellent thriller Little White Lies by Elizabeth McGregor. She weaves a hypnotic tale of deceit and betrayal involving several characters. Here is Beth, the wife of a man who has apparently committed suicide:

She glanced at him. He had expected to see a difference in her face: sadness, grief, tears. But there was nothing at all. She wore the usual slightly preoccupied look that she had when weighing up a garden, calculating in her head. Beth was nothing if not capable, but he was surprised to see any strength now.

‘Alan,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry about this. I know you’re busy.’

‘Christ! That doesn’t matter.’

‘Is it archaeological, then?’

‘What?’

‘The body. Is it recent, or what?’

‘Beth… Look, why don’t you come in?’

She smiled a little. ‘They all want me to come inside,’ she remarked.

Now, here’s Julia, a neighbor of Beth’s whose daughter, Rosie, is chronically ill for some reason:

‘Mummy,’ Rosie called from the back seat of the car. ‘Stop.’

Julia Woods glanced in the rear-view mirror. She was driving at fifty along the back farm road to the village. She hardly heard what her daughter was saying.

‘Mum-mee.’

‘What is it?’

‘You mustn’t do that.’

A junction was approaching; Julia changed gear, and then realised what Rosie was talking about. She was going too fast. The car slewed slightly to one side, and clipped the uncut verge.

‘All right. We’re going slow. See? Very slow.’

I realize it’s hard to talk about structure by using a couple of small excerpts. My point is, you’ve got two women in crisis, plus a few other characters who seem to be broken. And the author is able to tell each’s story beautifully in a single hypnotic work.

Recently, I read and reviewed The Last Victim, a first-rate thriller by the immensely talented Jordan Dane. Like Elizabeth McGregor, this author does an excellent job of moving the story forward, alternating between the POV of the FBI profiler, Ryker Townsend, and the serial killer he is pursuing.

For Readers. Which do you prefer—stories told from one person’s POV or from several?

For Authors. How have you solved storytelling problems when dealing with multiple POVs?

How to Lose Readers in Three Easy Steps—Step Two

January 11, 2018 by Steven Ramirez

In the first post in this series, I talked about prologues and why I feel they are no longer relevant to good storytelling. You can check that one out here. Now, except for the occasional literary fiction classic, I like to devote my reading time to indie authors. In this installment, I want to talk about a more pervasive problem—and one that is pretty easy to avoid. It happens when the author thinks they need to wait to get to the good stuff. Here’s what I’m talking about.

Dithering
Recently, I started a book—a ghost story—and I have to tell you, I was bored out of my skull. I think I got less than twenty pages in and finally had to stop. I just couldn’t take any more. To make matters worse, the novel in question begins with a prologue that could have easily been replaced by good backstory! Frankly, that should have been the tipoff. If you really want to lose readers, be sure to write pages and pages of well-constructed, correctly spelled prose that features characters who all sound the same and where nothing happens. It’s what I like to call “dithering.” And in this case, it was almost as if the author was afraid to bring in the paranormal and instead decided to dissect the daily lives of the boring protagonist and his boring wife. Boring, I tell you!

So, what should the author have done instead? Well, if you’re going to write about ghosts, then begin by scaring the pee out of your audience from the get-go. Same with thrillers. You must grab the poor unsuspecting reader by the throat and refuse to let go until the book is finished. Sounds harsh, I know. But I believe in tough love when it comes to writing this kind of stuff. If you don’t know how to get started, try an exercise. Take your boring married couple and pretend they are serial killers. What would they talk about at the breakfast table? What were they doing last night? What are they keeping in the garage? You get the picture.

Here is an excerpt from Stephen King’s iconic ghost story, The Shining, where Jack Torrance is interviewing for the job of caretaker of The Overlook Hotel. Notice that King can’t wait to reveal the horrors lurking in the hotel’s murky history as Ullman explains what the previous caretaker did:

“I suspect that what happened came as a result of too much cheap whiskey, of which Grady had laid in a generous supply, unbeknownst to me, and a curious condition which the old-timers call cabin fever. Do you know the term?” Ullman offered a patronizing little smile, ready to explain as soon as Jack admitted his ignorance, and Jack was happy to respond quickly and crisply.

“It’s a slang term for the claustrophobic reaction that can occur when people are shut in together over long periods of time. The feeling of claustrophobia is externalized as dislike for the people you happen to be shut in with. In extreme cases it can result in hallucinations and violence—murder has been done over such minor things as a burned meal or an argument about whose turn it is to do the dishes.”

Ullman looked rather nonplussed, which did Jack a world of good. He decided to press a little further, but silently promised Wendy he would stay cool.

“I suspect you did make a mistake at that. Did he hurt them?”

“He killed them, Mr. Torrance, and then committed suicide. He murdered the little girls with a hatchet, his wife with a shotgun, and himself the same way. His leg was broken. Undoubtedly so drunk he fell downstairs.”

And that’s from Chapter One! Talk about setting the stage for the savagery to come. The point is, don’t wait to get to the good stuff. In medias res, people! It’s why the reader bought your book in the first place. Also, think about this. Readers can preview your book by reading the first ten percent or so for free. Why in the world would you risk boring them right out of the gate? Next time, we conclude our series with something strange. See you then.

For Readers. What are some things authors do that bore you?

For Authors. Do you have a favorite technique for punching up a boring scene?

How to Lose Readers in Three Easy Steps—Step One

January 4, 2018 by Steven Ramirez

I’ve been doing lots of reading lately. Of course, you would expect that since I write books! Anyway, I’ve noticed some things other indie authors do sometimes that drive me nuts. If you’re looking for me to name names, forget it. Professional courtesy and all. What I plan to focus on over the next three posts is what I have observed and what you, being the brilliant writer you are, can do to avoid falling into these habits.

First, I want to frame things up. I’m not talking about an overreliance on adverbs. Yes, we all know Stephen King said the road to hell is paved with them. Use them. Don’t use them. Whatever. Second, regarding hiring an editor. If you’re not doing that, then I suggest you get out of the business. Amazon already offers plenty of self-edited books, and frankly, it doesn’t need any more. Same thing for covers. Hire a professional whydon’tcha. Okay, let’s begin.

Prologues
The word prologue comes from the ancient Greek word prólogos. This form was very popular in Greek drama. Merriam-Webster provides two definitions as they relate to literary works. Here is the second, which I think most authors actually intend when they include one in their book: an introductory or preceding event or development.

So, here’s my take. Unless you are planning to rewrite Canterbury Tales, do not use this outdated literary form. In the 21^st century, prologues are often used to address backstory. And that is a mistake, in my view. Here’s an analogy. I’ve heard a lot about this amazing new steakhouse. Spendy, but worth every penny, my friends tell me. So, I decide to see for myself and book a reservation.

After I am seated, I peruse the menu and order the best steak in the house. When it arrives, I can see it sizzling on the plate, the red juices seeping out from underneath. The server places it in front of me and, just as I am about to cut into it and enjoy that first tasty bite, he grabs my hand. Then, he begins telling me about the cow, how it was raised, and that time the tipsy cattle farmer got a little too aggressive with the branding iron, which explains why there is a noticeable dent along the edge.

Of course, there are always exceptions. I am currently reading the fortieth anniversary edition of The Exorcist. And yes, there is a prologue. But in this case, I feel it’s warranted. The author, William Peter Blatty, uses it to set the stage for all the bad things to come. He also introduces a major character, Fr. Merrin, who will eventually fight the demon that is possessing Regan. Now, the author could have chosen to include Fr. Merrin’s backstory later. But starting the book in Iraq, where the priest physically confronts a terrifying statue of that same demon, he’s letting us know that not only is evil real but it’s ancient. Check this out:

The man in khaki prowled the ruins. The Temple of Nabu. The Temple of Ishtar. He sifted vibrations. At the palace of Ashurbanipal he stopped and looked up at a limestone statue hulking in situ. Ragged wings and taloned feet. A bulbous, jutting, stubby penis and a mouth stretched taut in feral grin. The demon Pazuzu.

Abruptly the man in khaki sagged.

He bowed his head.

He knew.

It was coming.

If you’re going to employ a prologue, then use it as God intended. Generally, I would stay away from them, though. Instead, weave your backstory as you go, letting the reader uncover new connections along the way. This makes for a much more satisfying read. Reading is all about discovery, and it’s okay if we don’t know a character’s history up front. We are willing to trust that the author will reveal all in good time. Next up, we look at dithering. Don’t worry, you’ll see what I mean.

For Readers. Have you come across books where you felt the prologue was actually helpful?

For Authors. Have you found yourself using a prologue because you felt there was no better way to tell your story?

A merry and blessed #Christmas to all. #Peace and #Love.

December 25, 2017 by Steven Ramirez

News Flash—‘Dark’ Is Not ‘Stranger Things’

December 14, 2017 by Steven Ramirez

Recently, I finished watching the new Netflix series, ‘Dark.’ Prior to its availability, though, I was reading headlines like these: Dark Review: Netflix’s German Answer To Stranger Things Is Appropriately Titled, And Far More Grim and Netflix’s Dark: Stranger Things meets The Killing in this supernatural Nordic noir, and to be honest, it kind of pissed me off. To be fair, the articles in question did a pretty good job of distinguishing between the two shows, but why compare them at all? Frankly, they have little to do with each other. Sure, both feature a forbidding forest and missing children. But where ‘Stranger Things’ is a mashup of ‘ET,’ ‘Stand By Me,’ and ‘Super-8,’ ‘Dark’ is a brooding meditation on Chernobyl, fate, and time travel.

So, what happens when you go with these kinds of attention-grabbing headlines? In my opinion, you create wrong expectations in the viewer’s mind. You know about expectations, right? Like when you sit down with your kids to watch the new Pixar movie, ‘Coco,’ at the local cinema and are greeted with a nearly thirty-minute short about some stupid buck-tooth snowman named Olaf. Yeah. Well, the press was bad. I think I heard there were riots in Mexico.

If by now you’re thinking of giving the show a try, let me offer a piece of advice. Switch the dialogue to German and add the English subtitles. I know, I know. Most people hate subtitles. But you will be in for a treat. Hearing the actors’ real voices as they navigate through this hell-on-earth is worth it and adds wonderfully to the tension. Trust me on this. Also, pay attention to the music. It’s spot-on.

I’ve found over the years that European storytelling is different from that of America. Europeans like to take their time letting things unfold. They’re more philosophical. They don’t shout, but rather speak in low, measured tones that convey an intensity that acts as a window into a person’s darkest secrets. And they like to minimalize the backstory, so you end up having to work hard to get to the bottom of a character rather than listening to some rube monologuing about what made them the way they are. Or worse, smarmy narration that attempts to put a bow on it all.

I will admit ‘Dark’ is not for everyone. But if you want to explore something different, give it a try. Why, you may even be tempted to get a taste of Nordic Noir a la ‘The Keeper of Lost Causes.’ And don’t get me wrong. I loved ‘Stranger Things’—well, the first season, anyway. All I’m saying is, ‘Dark’ truly stands on its own. It doesn’t need help from some other successful American series.

	Guest Post: I Hear Voices in My Head and I Like It
	PLAYER PIANO—Long Live the Ghost Shirt Society!
	How to Train Your Inner Critic
	Book Review—Stillhouse Lake
	Book Review—Mrs. Saint and the Defectives
	THE DEMONOLOGIST—Do Not Pull Back the Curtain!
	Book Review—The Death Of Me
	Book Review—Trouble In Glamour Town
	How to Write Better Dialogue ‘Schitt’s Creek’ Style
	Book Review—Sorrow’s Lie