We can all learn from Shakespeare

Writer’s Digest did a piece titled, “10 Things Shakespeare Can Teach us About Writing Thrillers.” The ten tips actually help with any genre. Shakespeare was a great writer and a suburb storyteller. It’s the combination that makes him world renown nearly 400 years after his death. In his day, he was not a literary figure; he was the equivalent of a prime time screenwriter. Shakespeare wrote to fill theaters with paying audiences. (Somewhere around forty people depended on his plays for their livelihood.) 

Populist or Elitist?

One of my favorite writer quotes comes from Raymond Chandler; “It might reasonably be said that all art at some time and in some manner becomes mass entertainment, and that if it does not it dies and is forgotten.” 

Shakespeare is remembered because he aimed for mass entertainment. Shakespeare’s appeal to the general public is what makes these 10 writing tips powerful. All of them have to do with the storytelling side of his great talent. From an artistic standpoint, he was an unbelievably gifted wordsmith, but craft alone will not make a writer immortal. 

Nor, quite frankly, will storytelling divorced of good writing. Just ask Harold Robbins.

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Shark Killing Cowboy Meets Shakespeare

Has a Western mash-up ever worked?

I’m not a purist. My own westerns are about miners instead of cowboys, my plots delve into the politics of the frontier, and my protagonist is a wealthy Easterner. I also liked the Lone Ranger, even though it went overboard on special effects and cuteness. I can go off the beaten track and even enjoy oddities like Cormac McCarthy’s weird punctuation. But mash-ups? Where did this fad come from? Mixing diametrically opposed genres is like fusion cuisine where the main course and dessert are lumped together in a stir-fried. It may be an interesting novelty, but it won’t change traditional menus.

I believe a fiction writer’s job is storytelling. It must be done well, with good characterization, but essentially the task at hand is telling a ripping good story. Effective storytelling takes people to another place and time. It can be the Wild West or Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A mash-up tries to take the audience to two different places at two different times. It’s jarring.  Besides, these writers seem more concerned with how clever they can blend the genres, rather than storytelling.

Many Western enthusiasts lament the lack of audience for Western literature and film. Unfortunately, there will be no resurgence by mashing up Westerns with the latest teen craze. It’s not that easy. Intriguing characters with a well-crafted story arc will draw readers to any genre. Just ask Larry McMurtry, Elmer Kelton, Louis L’Amour, Owen Wister, Jack Schaeffer, John Ford, or Clint Eastwood.

The Inferno by Dan Brown—A Crummy Book

At the time of this writing, Inferno by Dan Brown has nearly 5,000 Amazon reviews for 3.9 stars. Since I thought this was a poor novel, I’m going against the grain. I would give it 3 stars if it was written by a developing author, but it only gets 2 stars in my book because it’s obviously been thrown together by an apparently waning writer.

There is an adage in writing that the author should never let his or her research show. When the action is stopped to pontificate about some factoid, it jerks the reader out of the story. This is forgivable once in a while when the story is good. Inferno does not have a strong story and Brown commits this offense countless times. The reader can imagine him getting a VIP tour around a historic site and Brown peppering his escort with questions about passageways and trivia. He let the locations define the story instead of making the locations a backdrop. This makes for a mediocre travel guide and a lousy novel. All plot, no story.

If Robert Ludlum didn’t invent the chase novel, he perfected it. The basic formula is that a man and a woman meet, there are murders, the bewildered couple become suspects and run, they are chased by good guys and bad guys from one exotic place to another, and a puzzle must be solved or bad stuff will happen to the world and our protagonists. Ludlum made you feel for the characters’ plight, but Brown uses characters like historic sites to merely carry the plot. The reader doesn’t know Brown’s characters. They are as enigmatic as the puzzle. I don’t criticize Brown for adopting this formula. (I used it in The Shut Mouth Society.) I criticize him for mimicking Ludlum’s voice with single declarative sentences meant to hammer a point, and even copying Ludlum’s amnesia device from the Bourne series.

In short, The Inferno was lazy writing.

Would You Care for a Slice?

I don’t believe there are only seven basic stories types, or that all stories are about “a man goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town.” Stories span a long continuum, with hard reality at one end and pure fantasy at the other.

One of the categories used to describe stories is slice of life. This moniker means the story describes mundane events that could happen to anyone. This is where literary authors shine. Great writing is supposed to make slice of life fiction engaging and enlightening.

Illustrators have always worked with storytellers

This kind of thinking has sent many aspiring authors down a path to oblivion. In truth, there are no pure slice of life books. At least, not any successful ones. Look at Little Women, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Help, The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, or anything by Jane Austen. These books may seem mundane or low key on the surface, but the authors are expert storytellers. Take The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency as an example. Most of Ramotswe’s cases are mundane to the point of being inconsequential, but the investigations are as suspenseful as any Agatha Christi murder. To Kill a Mockingbird and The Help artfully reveal courage in commonplace social situations. Little Women often seems autobiographical, but Louisa May Alcott knew when to deviate from her real life to keep the story interesting. Austen kept her readers engaged with suspense, characterization, and dialogue, all vital tools for storytellers.

People don’t live in the rhythm of a story. Everything that happens does not move an individual’s life toward a conclusion. People do not consistently spout clever lines. Writers put those words in their mouth. Writers scrape off all the boring stuff from everyday life. And writers move the story unfailingly forward.

To keep readers captivated, study the art of storytelling. 

Author Interview with Robert Peecher

Robert Peecher, author and journalist, has published an interview with me on his blog.

Q. When you started writing did you know Steve Dancy’s character, or did he develop for you through the telling of the story?

Best: I knew his character from the start, but that said, every character must grow or the story will become stale. By the fourth book, he is a much more mature character than at the beginning of the series. I had nothing to do with it. He learned and grew as he ventured around the frontier and I scribbled down what he did and how he did it.

The Steve Dancy Tales

You can read the full interview at robertpeecher. 

How do you decide between First and Third Person?

In a previous post I wrote about giving the reader a clear signal that the point of view was about to change.

It all depends on how you look at it—Point of View

In this post I want to discuss one of the writers first and biggest decisions. Before you can write a single word, you need to decide whether the story will be told in the first or third person. I’m assuming that in either case, the author would use past tense. (If a writer wants to attempt second person or present tense, I have no suggestions, but I wish them luck.)

The Steve Dancy Tales are written in first person, while Tempest at Dawn and The Shut Mouth Society are written in third person.

First Person Point of View

The standard first person narrative requires a single point of view for the entire book and the story must unfold in front of the main characters eyes. This makes first person popular for detective novels because, except for a few tricks, the reader knows as much as the protagonist. From a plot perspective, first person can be difficult to pull off, but the reader is more likely to become attached to the protagonist. These aspects of a first person narrative caused me to use this point of view for the Steve Dancy Tales.

Third Person Point of View

I used third person in Tempest at Dawn. Third person is less personal and facilitates changing points of view. The Constitutional Convention is an iconic event in American History and I wanted the reader to view the events and people from some distance, as if it were a documentary film.

I had major difficultly deciding on the point of view for The Shut Mouth Society. I had just written my first Dancy novel in first person, but I wasn't sure that was the right way to go for a mystery/thriller. My technique for coming to a decision took a couple days of writing. I wrote the first chapter in both first and third person, and then put it aside for three days. When I came back and read the two versions side-by-side, the decision was easy. I wrote the book in third person. Despite having two protagonists, I never switched the point of view.

The connection between the reader and the story is through the narrator. I have a bias toward a single point of view because I think a single storyteller makes this connection stronger and the narrative more memorable. That said, I alternated points of view in Tempest at Dawn because it made sense in the presentation of the story.

A novel must take a reader to another place and time. The author decides how to transport the reader.

Continuity, Clarity, and Crispness

I’m making pre-editing revisions to my latest book. I want to share my goals for a final pass-through for any of my books. After I have the story the way I want it and falsely believe that I've caught every error, I do another revision for continuity, clarity, and crispness.

Continuity
In film, a script supervisor makes sure the placement of furniture is consistent from scene to scene. Novels need similar scrutiny. During this revision, I keep an eye out for characters getting up from a chair more than once or magically changing rooms, clothing, or weapons. I also review each character’s dialogue to make sure what they say is consistent with their character. Last, I review the timeline to make sure I haven’t excessively compressed or expanded time.

Clarity
Oftentimes an author knows exactly what he intended, but a reader goes, “huh?” Making things crystal clear alternately means adding a bit of explanation or deleting extraneous description that might lead the reader down a false path. Clarity also means making sure the reader knows who is talking. This can be especially confusing when there are more than two people in a conversation.

Crispness

Good narratives move crisply. Sometimes this means deleting a sentence that interferes with a smooth flow, but it usually means deleting superfluous words. I think of this process as removing speed bumps and filling in potholes. As Mark Twain said, "Substitute 'Damn' every time you're inclined to write 'very;' your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be." Ideally, every word, sentence and paragraph should move the story forward.

I said ideally because I always fail. Despite my best efforts, the manuscript comes back from the editor with marks on every page. Sometimes they fix errors, but most of the time they suggest ways to improve continuity, clarity, and crispness. Thank heaven for editors. 

Characters Matter

Frank. A true black hat villain.

Characterization is a crucial aspect of fiction. We know this because it's drilled into us at school, in workshops, and in all the how-to books and journals we read. The protagonist must come across as real and interesting enough to pull the reader all the way through to the end of the story. A common mistake, however, is to focus too much attention on the protagonist. When you read a great book or watch an outstanding film, it's usually the antagonist that lifts the story above the ordinary.