It’s not easy keeping track of details in a novel that goes back and forth in time. Or any book of fiction, for that matter. What do I mean by details?
Details relative to the characters could mean simple and obvious characteristics such as eye and hair color, height, weight and age, gender, dress style, likes and dislikes, personality quirks, language and speech mannerisms. Believe it or not, it’s not always easy to remember all of these unless your characters re-appear in several books. I keep a list of all these traits for each of my characters. In fact, for each book that my main characters appear, I re-visit the list to make sure I’ve aged them appropriately. Even a year off will throw your readers into a tizzy.
More important, when dealing with generations of families, or when you go back in history to another time period, chart your way through the years, decades, or centuries involved. Ancestry maps can be helpful.
Deadly Provenance goes back to World War II with the “grandparents.” In modern time, the “parents” and “grandchildren” are featured. It’s vital to have all those years mapped out. How old were the grandparents in the 1940s? How old are the parents now? The grandchildren? When did they marry? Who did they marry? Trust me, it’s confusing if you just wing it. Your reader will definitely notice that the parents could not possibly have been born if the grandparents were already dead.
Another detail to be meticulous about and I must say I have been remiss in an early book, is language and speech. If a character is from Boston, don’t give him a Brooklyn accent or use an expression that is idiomatic to the wrong region. Same goes for dialect, and, by the way, don’t use too much of it. It’s distracting.
If you use foreign language phrases, please, please, make them correct. A Google translation will give you the basic words, but is the phrasing correct? Do the French, Germans, Slavs, Poles, speak like that? Make it authentic. Ask someone who speaks the language.
Even small details like what flowers bloom when and where are important. In a recent review of my book, Pure Lies, a reader reminded me that lilacs grow in May in New England. I’d had their scent wafting through the air in July. Wrong.
It takes time to get the details correct, but in the end, your work will be far more authentic. And your reader will thank you for it.
Chapter endings are as important as beginnings. Read the endings of your chapters. Go ahead. Are they riveting? Are you anxious to turn the page? Will your readers be? Take a closer look at the ho hum ones and begin to focus on endings that would compel a reader to keep going.
I skimmed through some books to see how those authors ended their chapters. Here’s one from Deception Point by Dan Brown. “Rachel felt weightless for an instant, hovering over the multi-million-pound block of ice. Then they were riding the iceberg down – plummeting into the frigid sea.” The reader is not likely to put the book down at this point, at least until they find out what happened to Rachel and her friend. Brown could have ended with something like: “Rachel stood motionless on the block of ice and prayed the block wouldn’t fall into the sea.” Nah.
Here’s another. “Emergency Room. Code Blue. Susan ran for the elevator.” This is from Chelsea Cain’s The Night Season. What if Cain had stopped at Code Blue? Would it have the same impact as her running for the elevator?
I believe this idea of compelling endings is not only important for fiction but for non-fiction as well. Take Laura Hillenbrand’s Unbroken: “Sometime that day, or perhaps the day before, he had taken off his uniform, picked up a sack of rice, slipped into the Naoetsu countryside, and vanished.” Vanishing, dying, running, falling, are all great ways to end a chapter on a high, cliffhanger note.
How about this from my mystery, Time Exposure: “As he sank to his knees, he lifted his head to gaze up at the Blackhawk. Captain Geoffrey Farrell smiled down at him. A boot to the head put him out.” Or this from Pure Lies, in the form of dialogue: “Well, you may be nuts and I wouldn’t testify to this in court, but between you, me and the microscope, honey, these signatures were all written by the same person.”
Scene endings can follow this rule to some extent, but it might get tiresome if every scene did. I think you have to let the reader rest once in a while and catch up with the action.
Not all chapter endings must end on an action note either. Many can end with inner conflict or conflict between characters. Gives the chapter tension. What happens between these two people next? Does Anna May leave her husband? Does mom throw Maynard out of the house? Does little Davey start to cry? Is Barbara in danger of being fired, of losing her health insurance, of missing a plane to an important event? If you care about the characters, you will turn the page.
I’d love to hear some chapter endings you think are great . . . or terrible. When we can recognize what works and what doesn’t, our writing benefits in the long-run.
“Amanda stepped off the elevator on the lower level of the parking garage. At ten o’clock on a Saturday night, the level was empty except for her car . . . and one other she didn’t recognize. A sound of dripping water and the soft scurrying of animal feet – rats? – made her throat close.
She swiveled her head in search of anything or anyone nearby then took a tentative step toward her car. Then another step and faster, faster, until she was almost at a sprint. Her high heels clicked on the concrete floor and echoed in the cavernous space. Finally, she reached her car. Damn, why didn’t she have her keys ready?
Amanda fumbled through her bag, her heart now ratcheted up, pumping blood through her ears. All she could hear was the furious whooshing sound of her own fear.
There, her keys, at the bottom, now in her hand. She clicked the fob and the latches opened. She reached for the handle, but before her fingers closed around it, she detected a breathy squeak of rubber soled shoes behind her. She dropped her bag, swung around with a gasp, hands clenched into fists, ready to defend herself and . . .”
So, what do you think? Tension? I always love the late-at-night parking garage scene. Scares the heck out of me, even now.
What is tension, really, and why is it so important in writing? Even if you’re not writing a mystery. Even if you’re writing non-fiction.
The noun tension has its Latin roots in “tendere,” which means to stretch, and tension occurs when something is stretched either physically or emotionally to its limits. Strained relations between countries can cause political tensions to rise. Tension can be added to a rubber band by stretching it to its limits. By the way, you can release nervous tension by shooting that rubber band at the local bully.
Tension is the means to get your reader to turn the page, particularly if it’s used at the end of a chapter as a cliffhanger. People, for the most part, don’t like to leave things unresolved. They want to find the solution, even if it’s an unsatisfactory one (that’s another story.)
While you cannot (or should not) distort facts when writing non-fiction, tension around real events can ramp up the readers’ pulse just as thrillers can. Take “The Monuments Men,” for instance. How tense can a situation be when you have a group of men and women trying to save the art and monuments of a Europe at war? When, finally the fighting ends, and they discover, in a dark, damp mine in Austria, a cache of hidden loot that would make King Midas gasp? When, they manage to “derail” an art train bound for Germany with stolen paintings of Masters like Leonardo.
Now that’s tension. That’s real life. Whew.
I welcome your feedback and samples of tension in your writing.
Writing mysteries is a “flexible” process and as an author I must be tuned-in and willing to make changes . . . often serious changes. Throw out chapters, throw out characters, add new locations, scenes. Pump up the senses: add fragrances, colors, cacophonous sounds.
I often reach a sticking point around the middle of the novel, which leads me to inject a “turn of events” into the story. This turn of events is often not planned, but gives the story a much-needed jolt.
In my current book, there are two NYPD homicide detectives, one in the past and one in the present. Both are following leads in a murder case (as detectives are wont to do.) Each lead spins off other leads, but in the end, the leads peter out (as my brain does) and they are left, frustrated, and wondering what the next step might be.
When this happens to me, I simply just murder someone. What? you say. It’s as simple as that. Murder someone.
Now, this “someone” absolutely must have relevance to the story. Please don’t bring in your next-door neighbor unless they’ve had a role in the story already. In addition, there must be a darn good reason to kill this someone off. If it’s your neighbor, the old “fence dispute” doesn’t cut it.
Yes, a fresh murder can get the readers’ (and writer’s) mind spinning in new directions. What did I miss? Why didn’t I see that coming? If X is now dead, she couldn’t have been the culprit.
A mid-novel murder is always good to keep readers on their toes, working to figure out the mystery. That’s the point. I write mysteries. The longer I can keep my readers baffled and confounded about what’s really going on, the more enjoyable the read.
In researching my new book, I came across a wealth of information and images about the New York City Public Library at Bryant Park, 475 Fifth Ave. I thought readers would be interested in some fun facts about this incredible domicile of history, literature, and education.
Originally formed by the consolidation of the Tilden Trust and the Astor and Lenox libraries in 1895, the cornerstone of the (now) Stephen A. Schwarzman Building was laid in 1902.
A Registered National Historical Landmark, the architecture is Beaux-Arts style and was dedicated by President Taft in 1911. The two marble lions welcoming visitors in the front were named Patience and Fortitude in the 1930s by Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, for the qualities he felt New Yorkers would need to survive the economic depression. These names have withstood the test of time. Patience guards the south side of the Library’s steps; Fortitude the north. These mascots are officially trademarked by the Library.
A few fun facts came to light as I researched this marvelous resource.
- The NYPL Research Libraries have a unique classification system. Originally, the first director, Dr. John Shaw Billings organized the system, but it was not easy to use. Since the 1950s, books in many parts of the of the collection have been shelved according to size. I kid you not!
- The original building was fueled by coal and needed more than twenty tons a day. So much ash was produced it had to be carted away daily.
- Library employees once ran a General Store in the basement. It opened in 1920 and carried everything from food goods, tobacco products, sewing supplies and general merchandise. Library “stores” have made a comeback, as you are no doubt aware, but the goods sold today are “book-related” for the most part.
- After Pearl Harbor, the most valuable manuscripts and volumes were moved to bank vaults around the city. 12,000 items, valued at $10 million, were temporarily moved to a secret location 250 miles away. Sounds like a book in here somewhere.
The Library has been visited by countless celebrities such as: Norman Mailer, Jacqueline Kennedy, Princess Grace, Somerset Maugham, Marlene Dietrich, Tom Wolfe, Isaac Bashevis Singer, and E.L Doctorow, to name a few.
Now that I reside in Vermont, I am only a four-hour drive from this rich collection to research my writings. Yahoo!