How to Properly Anchor Your Book

Books without anchors leave readers adrift.

The simplest anchors may help us keep track of who's who in dialogue that runs on for a page. An occasional He or She said will usually suffice. Or a gesture inserted between two quoted sentences can break the monotony.

'Do you really think so?" Jane stared into space. "I just can't see it that way."

Other anchors inform or remind us where the action's going down or how a room is arranged. How far apart are two seated characters if one of them's holding a gun? If we know that, we'll understand why B doesn't simply charge A. Or: if the narrative's divided between Seattle and San Francisco, perhaps the Seattle portions are told in the first person, the S.F. portions in the third. Or we may devise a subtler way than announcing the place with each change of locale.

The timeline should be carefully anchored as well. And this can be the devil's own business. Bold headers can give us the day or the hour at the start of each new part or chapter:

DAY ONE

or

12:00 A.M.

or

SUMMER

FALL

etc.

Or the timeline can be reinforced in a subtler way:

Two weeks after the death of Red Sands...

When details are entirely absent or are in far too short supply, we find ourselves adrift in an airy tale of faceless characters moving in and out of blurry rooms or homes, engaging in dialogue that comes from God knows which. Because of its blurred, dream-like nature, the prose can't help but fail to engage us. For all we know, the characters aren't even wearing clothes.

So then, the solution seems easy enough: when we write, it should always be 'Anchors away!'

Not so fast, though. 

Too many or too heavy anchors can quickly sink your readers

Too heavy: the mannered, nonstop repetition of 'He said' or 'She said.' In its own way, this is as phony as the prideful replacement of each 'said' with a deep purple substitute: S/he articulated...S/he pronounced...S/he uttered...S/he speechified...Variety is wonderful--if it's organic and discrete.

Too many: The equally mannered, nonstop iteration of brands/colors/fabrics/costs of all clothing in alls scenes. The cost and provenance of furniture. Etc.

Let's drop anchor as needed by readers. And let's drop it unobtrusively, simply as we can.

The result will be:

Writing as an Act of Quitting

 

Overnight, it seems, I've become a far more prolific writer. From spending up to two years on short novels of 40K words, I finished the last book in 'just' eighteen months...and should finish the next in no more than a year. Long-range goal: one book every 9 months, with 3 months to recharge and plan the next.

As I say, these are short novels. I know a number of writers capable of writing 2-5K words a day. And I know several, such as Russell Blake, who can turn out 4-8 novels a year. Sci-fi writer Kevin J Anderson recently wrote a 200+K word novel in 11 weeks. So I'd be in a sorry state if I wanted to compete.

I don't. But I do want, and need, to put on speed without forsaking quality. Mystery readers want a series of books--with, preferably, 4-5 titles to start. And I've just published the second book in The Seattle BOP series that seems to ring readers' bells. Now I need to finish the third book to secure a market place.

So where does quitting come into all this? Once I had all the toys and tools I needed--good laptop, Dragon Naturally Speaking (to convert longhand to text), Grammarly Premium (to help edit and proof)--I still had two dragons to face.


                                                                                                        
First, I'd come to see myself as a slow, painstaking craftsman capable of writing just 500 words a day. Second, I go through five or more drafts and at the end of each of them, I'll spend weeks typing up my changes, creating a slew of new typos.

I came to the conclusion that it was high time to quit thinking of myself as slow and being such a crappy clerk. And, since I was major league quitter on other fronts--alcohol, tobacco, meat, sugar, coffee--I'd apply the lessons I learned there to the task before me now:

1) No compromise: There can never be 'just one more' cigarette or drink. Just so, there can't be 'just one day' without reaching my goal of 1K words. That is the road to perdition.
2) Create strong routines. I'd gone to the gym or dojo at the same time I'd have gone to a bar or sat smoking my head off in a favorite cafe. Now I start each morning off with a brisk walk, followed by 1000 words before work. No compromise. Every day.
3) One day at a time...yes, but with a sense of the big picture.

                                         

The stark reality may crush: a lifetime to go without booze or a smoke? What are three days or week next to that? Three thousand words drafted...but 58k to go? I've learned the importance of keeping a daily log so that I can see and feel the days or words I've accomplished so far. It's a primitive but solid way of reminding myself that this is really going down.
4) Rewards are necessary. Why? They reinforce this central truth: Quitting in no way deprives us. It empowers us instead. And so we should celebrate with a well-deserved reward.

It isn't hard. Just keep these words in mind:




                                         

Let the Lion Roar Some More

Of a sudden, I felt a lion's roar within.

The manuscript for my new book has gone off to five readers. I've run a third of the text through Grammarly, an editorial app, and should have an error-free copy in a few more weeks. I felt good. But then the lion roared and I began to grow hungry for more.

Now that I knew I was on schedule, not late, I sought to emulate my writing schedule of last year, taking notes and outlining for the next couple of months and then starting to write sometime in June. The first thing I needed: a hardback Moleskine-style notebook, the very sort I used last year.

I placed a rush order today, wanting--needing--to put on more speed.

Good, good, very good. And yet the lion roared again. How about the new job search I'd been thinking of for months? I'd acquired a certificate from an online course in medical terminology. Okay, while I finetune and buff my resume, why not take a second course in HIPAA (records privacy)? At two lessons a week, I can earn a second certificate in six weeks. Goal: a better job with a better schedule and more bucks for travel and promotion of my books.

One more roar now, lion, please: bring on the smile power now. A certain procedure that's gone on for months should be a wrap within three-four weeks. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Coming your way soon:

No, wait. That's the great Owen Laukkanen's killer smile!

Let's all roar, once more, for mine by the end of April.

The Manly Art of Ironing

Has a small decision in your life ever been a real Eureka moment? Say, instead of doing something the usual way you decided to do it another. And then, seeing that the new way was better, you saw a slew of other things that called for changing too. Not just new ways of doing things, new styles of inner architecture.

 

My adventure started with a lovely pre-loved flannel shirt with two pockets whose flaps needed pressing. I'd acquired so many shirts that I'd already started to dread future cleaning bills. Now and then, I'd think wistfully of buying an iron and ironing board--but I was a man. Men don't iron. Yesterday, though, on my way to the dry cleaners, I stopped. How hard could it be to learn the fundamentals of ironing shirts? And what would the cost be, compared to dry cleaning some 65 shirts every year?

I decided to test my ingenuity and skill, starting off with a visit to Target. I found a dozen-odd irons to choose from and an array of ironing boards. My determining factors:  studio-friendly size...a brand name that I trusted...cost.

I left with a small Sunbeam steam iron:

                              
And, to go with it, a countertop ironing board:

                                


My total cost was less than that of dry cleaning just 30 shirts. But I still didn't know how to iron!

Thumbs up to Sunbeam for clear instructions on the use of and care for the iron. And the ironing board mounted flat on the kitchen countertop. I'd learned I could use the steam function with tap water--not distilled, as I'd guessed. Or I could dry iron if I pleased. I pleased, for my initial run at least. And I'd start with the flap-wild shirt pockets and collar.

It sounds silly to make a big deal of this, yes. But as an exercise in mastery, there's nothing silly about it. Next: what were my options for ironing a full shirt? I could fine-tune, as I pleased, but were there agreed-upon basics? Did I need a book to learn this or should I ask everybody I knew? No, I'd learn this privately, with a little help online.

The online friend I've learned to trust for all masculine matters is The Art of Manliness. And there I found just what I needed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EpinulvKTA

Now the great ripple effect was in motion. I began to think of other ways and modes of thought that needed changing.

Writing:
1) To gain speed, I don't necessarily need to compose more quickly. I do need, though, to dictate my handwritten drafts into Dragon Naturally Speaking regularly as I go.
2) I need to make better use of the promoting services Amazon offers now that I have a modest hit in The Big Bopper. (50-plus 4 and 5-star reviews.)
3) I should look into approaching Kirkus for a review of my WIP, which is strong and offbeat.

Job search:
1) I need to follow my original plan to sit tight until mid-March when I've made full use of my medical/dental benefits. But instead of doing nothing, I need to prepare.
2) Preparation includes touting the certificate I've received from an online course in medical terminology.
3) I should also buff my resume to justify the higher salary I'm worth.


And so on. You catch my drift. Your own adventure can begin with anything...including a neatly pressed shirt.

Post-Producers Bring Home the Bacon

Get this: Quentin Tarantino has begun post-production on Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, for which he wrote the screenplay in 2017. Principal photography began in June of this year and the release date is scheduled for July 26, 2019. So the actual shooting time was 5-6 months, book-ended by long periods of preparation and post-production.

This process is much on my mind nowadays, for there's been a change in my thinking about the writing process. Instead of seeing a work in progress as a long, brutal sequence of drafts, I'v come to see it as a lot like filming:
--Months of outlining, research and 'location' work: scouting the book's best settings etc.
--First draft, the literary equal of principal photography--with all the out-takes, bloopers and footage bound for the cutting room floor.
--Post-production. Anywhere from three to six more months of work.

What does that entail? The second draft becomes my starting point. After this initial cleanup, I have a better idea of the novel's 'running time' and can see if the structure is sound. If a three-part book, for example, clocks in at 300 pages and the first part takes up half of those, I've got a problem to fix.

Once upon a time I would have jumped right on that, jumping into the third draft. Not now. No, now for me is not the time to fix stuff or prettify the prose. Page by page, I'm making way like a post-producer with multi-colored Post-it notes:

Lots of these are filled with questions:

--What is the difference in class schedules between Groups A and B?

--What telling details can bring this character to life?

--What are the size and layout of this room?

Other sticky notes are nudgers:

--Flesh this out.

--More crackle in the dialogue,

--Too soon (or too late) for this clue.

--Maybe this should go.

--This isn't quite clear or quite there.

And still other stickies are fillers for blanks in the first draft:

--Quote on insurance frauds.

--Stats on bad faith insurance lawsuits..

--Menu for high-class cuisine.

Etc.

                                                             *****

So what's the difference, some may ask? Grooving on all three parts of the creative process energies and uplifts me. And I'd feel cheapened if  I cheated on any of the three. By the same token, I'd feel cheated if I cheapened any part, cutting it short because 'writing' is more fun.

Post-production, for me, is a theme park of fun. And it's at the heart of what I do.

If you haven't already, do give it a try. When you're in the post-production zone your brain looks a little like this:

On Missing The Naked Bike Race

For a moment I entertained a glum thought when asked if my weekend plans included a visit to Fremont. See, it's the Solstice weekend, including a parade and the Legendary Naked Bike Race.

And, hey, while I was there I could also visit one of Fremont's microbreweries or...

The idea of seeing a few hundred nudies on bikes doesn't really float my boat. And I no longer drink. But I entertained the glum thought nonetheless, thinking back on my more adventurous life years ago.

I hope adventures still await.  Along with a good deal more money. But once the glum thought took its leave, after a stern mental boot to its butt, I looked forward to the quieter adventures of this weekend:

--The continued fight against ageism as I attempt to change jobs before my office moves to Renton.
--The slow, demanding work of typing the first draft of my WIP.
--The scores of challenges involved in producing a spin-off from an established series.
--The daily task of staying true to a demanding new eating plan
--The weekly task of adhering to a rougher, more strategic workout regimen

I know, I know. That sounds boring to you. And, for all I know, it may well be.

But there are internal adventures, as challenging and thrilling, as climbing the Alps. Or engaging in a cage fight with a bruiser twice your size. Staying sober, getting thinner, completing a tricky new book...To my changed way of thinking, these are at least as cool and worthwhile as watching naked bods on bikes.

But nowhere near, I'll still admit, mud wrestling with a goddess. 

Back to work. My mind's clear if not clean.

Rain City Blues

It hasn't rained this much in Seattle, they say, since 1961. And I'm of two minds about that. It's a tough choice at the moment between:

Jerry Seinfield
“Seattle is a moisturizing pad disguised as a city.”


and

Tom Robbins
“In the deepest, darkest heart of winter, when the sky resembles bad banana baby food for months on end, and the witch measles that meteorologists call ‘drizzle’ are a chronic gray rash on the skin of the land, folks all around me sink into a dismal funk. Many are depressed, a few actually suicidal. But I, I grow happier with each fresh storm, each thickening of the crinkly stratocumulus. ‘What’s so hot about the sun?’ I ask. Sunbeams are a lot like tourists: intruding where they don’t belong, little cameras slung around their necks. Raindrops, on the other hand, introverted, feral, buddhistically cool, behave as if they live here. Which, of course, they do.”


It should feel more like spring now. Why?

--I've completed and published my new Boss MacTavin mystery, Seattle Red.
--On Wednesday, March 22, I'll be interviewed by Pam Stack on her live podcase, Authors on the Air.
--I've nearly finished laying the foundation for my next novel.
--I've joined a great local, affordable gym a few blocks from my apartment.
--Hold Fast Press has just issued a beautiful print version of Southern Scotch.
--Print plans are in the works for the three remaining Boss MacTavin mysteries.

And yet...

My brain's swimming in rainy day thoughts.
--I should have accomplished more at my age.
--Thinking of time, I feel a growing sense of urgency.
--Within six months, my workplace will move to distant Renton, requiring a far greater round-trip commute.
--The new job site is an isolated office park sending out smothering corporate vibes.
--Goodbye to the gym if I go there and goodbye to the writing time before or after work.
--Goodbye to my benefits, though, if I go and return to temp work.

Yeah, yeah. Boo-hoo, boo-hoo. When it rains, it pours, Reb. But why don't you also remember:

And Caesar wept, recalling that Alexander had ruled the earth before he died at 33.

So even the greatest had rainy day blues. And the blues may hold keys for an excellent spring.

--I can accomplish more if I find a new job in the city, either part time or an easy commute.
--I can reap more from my efforts if I can set up a schedule allowing time for both writing and savvy promotion..
--The sense of urgency is good....as long as it includes more attention to personal relationships.
--And where it belongs, near the top of the list, the time's come around again for:

Years have passed since Juliette died. It's time again for a kitten--for which I'll need a lot more time.
So you see how it all comes together: from rainy day blues...to thoughts of elusive Success...to loneliness and the need for more time...

Yes, I see a spring kitten coming...so I'd better get cracking again on my work.

It's Bi-Way or the Highway When It Comes to Books

A lot of writers out there prefer the other expression:

And, let's be honest, so do a lot of readers.

A My Way writer expects crowds to follow wherever his book wants to go--screw any and all expectations or rules. So readers run into undisciplined books filled with boring or madcap digressions...promising scenes that peter out or veer off in other directions...characters that disappear or are completely inconsistent...Or the novels seem unending--hundreds of thousands, even millions, of words. Literary circuses of font colors and typographical stunts.

A My Way reader wants a book that resembles other books written the way s/he feels books should be done. I met a lot of My Way readers in the ten years I worked in two book stores. In the Mystery section, some readers were ultra-specific. They wanted books by either male or female authors only: Sue Grafton, Jonathan Kellerman, Sarah Paretsky, Robert Crais. Or they wanted mysteries set in particular cities with male or female heroes who work in their own professions: banking, advertising, etc. Furthermore, they wanted books written in the Right Style: cozy or hardboiled, slowburning or quick, character or plot-based.

This isn't meant to ridicule either My Way writers or readers. Still, the extreme My Way writer resembles a delusional online game tyrant. In the 80's, when Horror was huge, a few of the bigger names liked to proclaim: Screw your agent and/or your publisher if they give you any grief--write whatever you want and then move along if you have to. Some writers took it to the next level: screw the reader too--our job's to write, their job's to read. There's no read to wonder where such writers are today...or their books. The real world, including the real reading world, simply doesn't work that way,

But don't stop there. The extreme My Way reader resembles a porn aficionado.

Extreme My Way readers can't get into a novel that fails to meet all their specifics--from the hero's height to where s/he works to the style of the prose. A repeat experience is the supreme goal...just as it is with adult films. Take your pick from endless lists: black, white, Asian...oral or anal,..soft or garish lighting...splashy or unsplashy...

Getting back, though, to writing and reading: Bi-Way or the Highway offers more elegant kicks and rewards.

A Bi-Way writer finds freedom in following--and occasionally breaking--the conventions of his/her art. When s/he breaks the rules, it's with the reader in mind, a shock-enhanced experience. Whether s/he writes plainly or likes to ride the purple page, again it's with thoughts of the reader's delight. 

A Bi-Way reader seeks a fresh, not a repeat, experience. This reader has a comfort zone that s/he likes to indulge. There are types of rides that s/he likes best. But s/he is always open to something totally different...so long as it's done well. The style may be plainer or packed with more word play, more thoughtful or thought-free than his/her usual fare. S/he doesn't mind. S/he only cares that the writer does ask with his/her pleasure in mind:

On the Bloody Good, Good Bloody Art of Surprise

There's nothing quite like a good jack-in-the-box to take a writer's breath away and send him smiling back to work.



I outline more than most, I know, to screw up my nerve to begin a new book. But I outline only to a point, after which I may know the main 'beats' of the tale, though not the connecting links from one chapter to the next. And sometimes the beats have long spaces between: for example, from my hero's realization that X was actually murdered and that Y is the villain...to his knowledge of how to Correct this.

My new WIP (work in progress), the fourth Boss MacTavin mystery, has blindsided me repeatedly with its infernal surprises. Now, I don't mean only the plot twists, which I can't give away here. I mean little mysteries that simply refused to come clear...until now: how, when and where Boss will get to use the fab new gun he was given in Boss #3, when he's been forbidden in this book the use of any weapon--and is regularly checked by the cops...how, when and where he'll get a scene with Suzy Wong, his new love, though it isn't safe for her to be with him now in Seattle...etc.




The question for me is no longer whether to outline or not. To me an over-structured tale that drives the tale's beats with a whip is as flawed as a shaggy dog story that's been made up on the fly. Whether s/he writes down the outline or conceives it on long, brooding walks by the beach, the writer should begin, I think, with a working sense of the book's structure and a grasp of the general beats.

That said, I now would add that surrender is also essential. The best stories are not paint-by-number. And the real heart often won't come clear until we've begun. When that happens, we'd better be humble enough to turn the reins over and let Baby drive.




Gotta go. Still waiting to find out how to get Boss MacTavin his gun!

Never Second Guess Your Instincts

As I wrote my new book, Caesar's Ghost, some parts cried for the present tense and some cried for the past. I just followed my instincts while writing. But then, as I went through the subsequent drafts, the Brutal Old Bastard (BOB) of my inner editor began to carp and criticize. Why here, not there, in the present? Why there, not here, in the past?

Now, I knew BOB was right on the money about not jumping tenses in a single paragraph--a source of confusion for readers. And I could understand BOB's preference for consistency: dream sequences or diary entries, for example, in the present tense. BOB might even be okay with all action scenes in the present--lending the scenes more urgency.

But, through the rewrites, BOB kept attempting to gain total control. Some scenes resisted--almost violently--my efforts to change tenses. My fingers would not hit the keys that would have changed the scenes. And it was time to let BOB know that he wasn't running the show, just helping to produce it. In fact, when given full control, BOB tends to trip on the feet of his rules.

I reached a compromise solution. I'd change any part from present to past tense--unless my fingers screamed in protest. And I'd devise a subtle way of highlighting my segues from the past to present tense. 

Many of BOB's rules are sound, while others are the barks of another century's harridans. 

Readers and viewers are fluent in the language of mixed time lines:

So I listend to BOB, with all due respect...but I followed my heart and my fingers.

Second Thoughts On Second Drafts

I'd gotten that part down well enough that I no longer anguished even when I knew something wasn't working in my first 'pass' through a novel.  Let's raise our cups to Hemingway who put it with more pith:



At the same time, let's remember that many pros refer to the first draft as the Vomit Draft:





And Ernie Mears has given what I regard as the best definition:

vomit draft: (n)  1. writing draft in which the author spews words on the page in a chaotic outpouring of ideas, characters, plot, passion, and quite possibly last week’s dinner; 2. the art form of funneling the maelstrom of inspiration in one’s brain into a porcelain throne of paper; 3. in which a writer commits a story to paper for the first time, therein relating it to herself.  synonyms:  first draft, rough draft.  antonyms:  polished piece, final draft, completed manuscript.

That said, at the very least, we've got ourselves a book--right?  Wrong. Whether you see it as vomit or as very raw material, you have something that may become very important...with work. But what you don't have is a book.

Well, okay, okay, okay. But, hey, at least the hard part's done--right? Wrong. The second draft, for me, has always been the hardest. Daily, I have to face the reeking stylistic mess. Daily, I see again that almost every page contains twice the needed word count. The pacing is off. I'm telling and not showing. Characters still aren't developed enough. The fact is, almost everything that could go wrong with a good novel lies before the writer in a reeking puddle of vomit. And this is an excellent time to reflect: with every pass through a novel it grows harder to spot what is wrong--try to spot the Biggies now.

Still, something cool happened in the second draft of Caesar's Ghost, my WIP. I abandoned all thoughts of perfection in this pass. I squeezed every drop of defeatism and shame from my soul. If the second draft still sucked, so what? So what if took me three more drafts...or five? No one would see the book until I ready to show it. So why not enjoy this pass, working with humbler goals:
--Work calmly, daily, without stress--from a hard copy of the text.
--Cut only verbiage that is obviously excessive.
--Focus on pacing, logistics and clarity.
--Don't think about stylistic razzmatazz. But do accomplish in this pass a professional level of prose.
--Make notes for any challenge that can't be resolved at this time.





Well, okay, okay. But then the second draft's done. And, relatively speaking, the third draft should be a cake walk--right? Maybe right...but maybe wrong. Depends on what your values are and how good a writer you hope to become.

Three drafts will be enough for some and one too many for others. Still others may need four or five. But if you do decide on a third, let the third be extra-special. With all that has been cleared away, you may spy new opportunities--for a plot twist or a character or a turn of phrase. Nothing is final until you sign off. So allow yourself at least one more pass...with a world of potential before you.

Shopping for a Second Draft

So, after two months' work, I'd succeed in writing and typing a 49,000-word first draft of my work in progress. Now, my first drafts are miserable things, so bad they can't be shown. But in the old days, before computers, I'd type draft after draft without tears because there was no other way. By the third draft, I'd begin to see potential and feel charged. By the fourth draft, generally, I'd have a reader's copy half-covered with white-out and corrector tape.

Times have changed, of course. But I still have the need for a hard copy of the second draft. I need to see it...divide it into stacks so that I can monitor the pacing...highlight it and mark it up,...see neat pages of typed gibberish transformed into scribbles on scribbles and color-coded markings.

So, today I went shopping. Since I'll often be working before and after work, an hour here and an hour there, I really had to strategize. Here were the weapons I set out to buy:

1) Side-opening storage clipboard, capable of holding 10-15 pages, my goal being to revise 3-5 pp daily.


There's a pen/pencil storage section and the plastic construction is sturdy enough to slip the thing into my back pack.

2) Sharpie, 3-line-width highlighters: one width for deleting lines, another for working in a tighter space, and the tip for writing coded notes. I can see at a glance which section needs research, which concerns a certain character, etc.


3) A 4-pack of reporters notebooks. Ideal for notes or transcribed research that I can clip onto particular pages, to be added when I type.





4) More of my favorite mechanical pencils:




I know, I know. Most folks would be far more excited with a bagful of electronic toys and gadgets. But I began to rock today on the second draft with my little bagful of tricks.

By June I'll learn what other toys will be required for draft 3!

Hey, Where We At--Which Union Square?

Union Square, Manahattan



Union Square, San Francisco



Union Square, Seattle

Most writers are admirably clear about time, but too often unclear about place. Even in a story that has been set in Seattle, we need sometimes to reinforce the reader's sense of bearings. One mention of the city's name may not enough for a reader to place store names like Macy's or Bloomingdales in Seattle, not Manhattan. Furthermore, some landmarks may not be as well-known as we think: e.g., New York's Herald Square or Seattle's Pioneer Square.

Occasional reminders can be placed discreetly: The downtown Macy's is only blocks from 3rd and Pike, the crossing known as The Scourge of Seattle. Or: New York's flagship Macy's, located at Herald Square...

If this seems over-finicky, remember that anything causing a reader to stop and wonder where s/he is will slow down the momentum we've worked so hard to create.

The problem grows more pressing, if our hero--born in New York, now residing in Seattle and just back from San Francisco--finds himself thinking about Union Square.

Even in fantasy novels, I often need more grounding: how far away from 'the city' is the countryside now being shown?





We don't have to choose, as writers, between speed and clarity. Take the time to add the necessary telling detail. The clearer we are, the more quickly and happily readers will read.