When Writers Don't Have a Clue

 by Charlotte Hinger

I was intrigued with Thomas's discussion of viewpoints. My Lottie Albright delves into old murders which causes new murders. It's not really a cold case series, as it focuses on the present day murder. Thus it technically morphs into a suspense. Will my historian/undersheriff figure out who did it back then in time to prevent becoming the victim on the next page?

In some ways, a straight cold case would be easier to present because the Lottie Albright series is told in present day first person. I can't use flashbacks and have to depend on the back story emerging through historical investigation techniques.

My most dependable tool has always been microfilmed newspapers. The Kansas State Historical Society was founded in 1875. They have one of the world's most comprehensive collection of newspapers. All the papers are on microfilm and many are on-line through Chronicling America http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/newspapers/#Kansas. Instructions for obtaining microfilmed Kansas papers can be found at http://www.kshs.org/p/newspapers-in-kansas/11528.

Since Lottie doesn't have access to the villain's mind the plot depends on her ability to connect the dots. Nothing is more valuable in both academic investigation and mystery plotting than knowing something is just not quite right. In other words, reading between the lines. Because usually newspaper items are objective.

Here's an example of what I mean by not quite right. An announcement in the 1950s local news item: "Lonnie Balfour and family will be moving to the Balfour homestead later this month. He will take over the extensive farming operation of his late father." Lottie thinks that's funny. Lonnie was a CPA and the second son. The oldest son, Jeff, was the obvious heir. He was a farmer. Was there tension over this? This leads her to the recorded deed and even more newspapers and death certificates. Aha! Lonnie died in a mysterious accident. His descendants are alive today. And so it goes. Diaries, letters, voting records, notes from organizations, and yearbooks have their own testimony.

Was one child consistently on the honor role and in every activity under the sun? And another in the same family barely mentioned in the high school newspaper or not a participate in any groups according to the yearbook? Why? With persistence, it easy to find this out.

It's easy to really keep the plot hopping through the protagonist's questions as long as the writer resists the temptation to inject a massive dose of history and cultural details. For instance, old newspapers show group pictures of students at events. The debate team is especially well-groomed, except for one member. Why was there no one looking out for this kid? Had his parents ever come to one of his debates?\

This series is written in first person. My historical novels are always limited omnicience and shifting third person. In a future post I'll try to explain all the pitfalls of limited omnicience and why I just jump right in anyway.

Being able to enter the mind of the first person protagonist is quite a lot of fun, because one can make this amazing sleuth really smart, not at all like the bumbling novelist who hasn't got a clue.

Seen, Scene, Sawed

Oh my scene! My lovely perfect scene. Cut to ribbons. The best writing I've ever done. But the fact is, this lovely scene didn't belong in my book. That's why rewriting it didn't work.

My character had changed. He would never, never do what this scene required him to do. It's very upsetting. But when I took a cold hard look at the manuscript, I realized my motivation was to work in an interesting bit of history. That's never a good idea.

There's an intellectual component to writing that complements creativity. I usually enjoy this second phase because all the characters have shown up by then and I know what they are like. They've auditioned and made the cut. Rarely do I throw someone out of a book. In fact, I don't like to eliminate whole scenes either.

But once in a while I have to cry "uncle" and just admit that a scene doesn't belong. Something went wrong.

There are many reasons why scenes fall flat. My first clue is that I keep trying to make it fit and it simply doesn't work. Rather than tossing the whole thing out, sometimes it's a matter of rewriting it in a different character's point of view. This can't be done in my Lottie Albright books because the series is in first person. All of my historical novels are in multiple third person so that format is easier.

Sometimes scenes are simply in the wrong place. The plot flow is interrupted when this happen. Or perhaps a scene would be best presented as a wee bit of back story. Whole flashbacks generally aren't used in modern mystery. Just a hint of the reason for a conflict can be used effectively in the sequel to a scene.

I've done a lot of cutting on the manuscript I'm working on right now. Sadly, a lot of it comes from not from scenes, but eliminating sloppy writing and passive usage. When did I finally understand the importance of active voice? I knew about passive usage with my brain, but not my gut.

There is so much to learn about the craft of writing. I'm in awe of the masters who command language and create scenes so vivid I'm whisked away to another world.

The Fine Art of Pacing

I finished a really, really fast-paced novel a couple of days ago. The characters were interesting and well-developed, the plot hung together and made sense. The action was explosive and intense.

The book was boring. The author didn't understand the importance of pacing.

Imagine a movie where they cut to the chase immediately and it never lets up for two hours. One hair-raising desperate move after another. Bang. Bang. Bang. Close call after close call. Near collisions and real side swipes with parts falling off.

I'll guarantee you the patrons will be checking their iPhones in very short order.

Readers and movie goers need to rest between scenes. The 'tween time is a perfect place for back stories and to build up motivation for the next confrontation. It's also an ideal time to introduce any necessary historical material and comments on the setting.

Flashbacks used to provide an ideal venue. This technique lost popularity, but I've noticed flashbacks are returning. Whether flashbacks or back stories are used, insertions of this nature can provide a springboard into the next crucial scene where all hell breaks loose again.

An example of the use of a breather between a scene that propels the protagonist into the next scene: Tom and Jerry have just had a vicious verbal confrontation. Tom, our hero, loses big time. Jerry, his big brother, taunts him and feeds his fury. Tom slams out of the room.

During the time he's licking his wounds he recalls (in back story, not a full flashback) other times that Jerry made him feel this way. He broods on all kinds of unfair incidents from the past. The girl friend Jerry moved in on, the time Jerry blamed him for wrecking the car.

Tom can be walking down the street while he's thinking about all the past unfairness. It's a chance to describe surroundings, the neighborhood, etc. and give the reader a rest. Then motivation for the next scene begins to sneak in. Tom is not going to let it happen again. The stakes are too high this time. It's now or nothing. He stops at a pay phone and makes the crucial call. Which leads us into....

The next scene.