Character Names

When I started writing the Caribbean Adventure Series, I named the children Mark, Kyle, and Ingrid. The process was effortless, the names just came to me and stuck. I gave my childhood friend, Ingrid, a heads-up that she was about to be hounded by the paparazzi for being featured in a best-seller, but the big issue turned out to be that Kyle was the name of the son of one of my employees. He, of course, was ecstatic although it was pure coincidence and there was no resemblance between the real boy and the fictional character. My children were not pleased and have hounded me ever since to write stories that feature them as characters.

Now I put a little more thought into the names that I choose. For example, I am writing a short story about a snake and the name 'Sammy' popped into my head. If you grew up watching Sesame Street, you may remember a character who sang one song which went something like this:

"I am Sammy the Snake and I look like the letter 'S'."

The fact that the name was not original was just a small part of my problem. I named his brother Stanley, and when I read the story out loud I realised that young children would be easily confused by the similarity of the names - Sammy and Stanley, Stanley and Sammy, even I had difficulty keeping them straight. Right now, I feel as if I have spent more time naming these snakes than I did choosing the names of my own children!

How important is it to give your characters carefully considered names? Names are very suggestive, they suggest certain characteristics, eras and locations. Some names immediately bring certain personalities to mind. A character named Freddie in a horror story may make your readers anticipate scenes from Friday the 13th, whereas Freddie may be perfectly realistic as the captain of a ship.

Does anyone else agonise over character names?

Writing For Fun

The release of the John Carter movie has me thinking about the element of fun in writing. When I discovered Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Mars (Barsoom) series I found what was, to me, the archetype of the sheer adventure story. I devoured the Barsoom books and looked for more, which didn’t exist in my small town library. I started inventing my own tales, although I didn’t write them down at that time.

I told myself so many stories throughout my childhood. I did it just for fun. I didn’t even think about sharing them with others. They were a personal pleasure. When I did begin to write stories, I did it only so that I could put them in a fixed form to remember, not because I thought about publishing them. I was having fun.

It probably seems as if I’ve repeated “fun” a lot. I have. The first book I wrote that got published was Swords of Talera. It was an unapologetic ode to Burroughs and Barsoom, and I’ve never had so much fun writing in my life. The sequels, Wings Over Talera, and Witch of Talera, were almost as enjoyable, even though I was living through a much tougher part of my life at the time. Here’s a little piece of “Swords.”

We turned south and hugged the coast in the intense heat of early afternoon, and in an hour we passed the jungle by and rounded a headland into a blue-steel lagoon. Three ships were there, all of black wood, with violet sails and two rows of ebon oars shipped in the ports. The ships stood with demon figureheads catching the sun at their prows, and black flags hung at the masts. Smoke rose from the shore beyond the ships, dark against the pale gold of the sky.

By the time I wrote “Swords” I was hoping it would be published, but that wasn’t the primary reason I put it all down on paper. I just wanted to know what happened next, and I wanted both the feeling of telling the story and of reading the story. Today, I sometimes write for the challenge of telling a new story in a new way. Sometimes I write for money, or for publication in a particular forum. But mostly I still write for fun. I write because there’s no other job that gives me the same kind of satisfaction.

I’ve often wondered if most writers start out writing what they personally want to read. I wonder if they start out writing for fun. And I wonder if that continues throughout their careers or if fun starts to take a back seat and finally falls out of the picture. Maybe the writers with us today can tell me their story. I’m listening.

What makes an interesting book?

In trying to get my eight year old to read more widely, I embarked on a project to read a book that was a little beyond her grade level with her every day. That is a little challenging with a two year old and a three year old vying for my attention. Consequently, I found the best solution was to move up the kids’ bedtime half an hour and read in bed with my oldest every night. We began with “The Midwife’s Apprentice” by Karen Cushman. The first night we did the first chapter. By 10 pm I insisted she go to sleep. 10:30 she was still reading and begging me to extend her bedtime even more. By 11pm I practically wrestled the book away from her. But I decided to read the next chapter. I crawled into my own bed sometime around 1 AM. I had read the entire book. It was so interesting.

What made this book so riveting that I could not put it down? Why is it that a child that I have to actively encourage to read protests when I ask her to put down the book? Here are some of the things I found about the book that made it so interesting.

The pace
The book started with the prime character and kept a steady pace that made you want to find out what happens next. It’s not that the book is an adventure novel or a cliff hanger. It’s just that each chapter left you wondering what happens next. How will the book end? Unlike romance or detective novels where the outcome is always the same (the girl gets the guy; the bad guy gets caught), this book did not fit into the mold of any explicitly defined genre. There were no lulls in the pace.

The voice
I swore I was back in the fourteenth century living in the quagmire of poverty, when I read the book. The prevailing voice transported you to that time and place, without extensive descriptions of the physical settings. The choice of words reflected the language. The rhythm of the writing made me feel that the narrator was talking with an ancient British accent. I felt I was Beetle. Even with the extremely long sentences that made it hard to catch a breath, there was a melody to the words. The choice of words both in direct and indirect speech made the book experiential.

The perspective
The story was told from the POV of the main character Beetle, who later renamed herself Alyce. I felt Beetle. Even though the story was in third person, it felt like it was being told in Beetle’s own voice. There was a lot that was not spelt out in the book, but it was very clear what was happening. Most of all you could see inside Beetle’s head. You experienced her growth from a person who was nobody, empty inside and had no place in the world, no confidence, to a budding young lady confident in her ability and her beauty. You could feel when she finally felt she had a place in the world.

Illustrations
The book used the events to illustrate what was happening rather than description. Even the seasons were denoted more by the farm activities than by an overt description. The development of Beetle’s self confidence, for example, was illustrated by her renaming herself Alyce because she realized Alyce was someone important who could read. Beetle’s interaction with another homeless boy brought out her ability to love and nurture, something unknown to her before.

Now I know there is much more that makes an interesting book than what I’ve covered here. I haven’t even touched the tip of the iceberg. That’s where you come in. What makes a book riveting to you such that you can’t put it down?

Guest publicist Penny Sansevieri: 30 Ways to Make Yourself Irresistible to the Media - Part 1

Penny Sansevieri is CEO and founder ofAuthor Marketing Experts, Inc., a best-selling author and internationally recognized book marketing and media relations expert. Her company is one of the leaders in the publishing industry and has developed some of the most cutting-edge book marketing campaigns. She is the author of five books, including Book to Bestseller which has been called the "road map to publishing success." In the past 22 months AME's creative marketing strategies have helped land 11 books on the New York Times Bestseller list. To learn more about Penny’s books or her promotional services, visit her web site athttp://www.amarketingexpert.com.

There is a reason so many pitches get rejected by the media. On average, the media rejects 95% of pitches they get. How can you become part of the 5% that get picked up for a story? First, you need to know the reasons why pitches get rejected. Keep in mind these aren’t the only reasons, but certainly the majority of them:

Uninteresting email subject lines: Often your pitch is judged by the subject line. Make it something interesting, make it a headline or risk getting relegated to the delete bin.

Long emails: I don’t know about you, but I hate reading long emails. The media hates it even more - in fact many of my media friends have told me that if they have to scroll through a pitch, they often won’t consider it unless it comes from a very trusted source. How long is too long? If you can read it on the screen without scrolling down, you’re in good shape.

Non-compelling topics: You won’t get attention for your topic just because you pitch it. It has to be timely, unique, and relevant to the audience they serve. Think HUH: Hip, Unique, and Helpful.

An opened email isn’t always a sure bet: Even if your email gets opened, it might still get deleted. Here’s why: For all of the above reasons. Create a tight, focused pitch that isn’t too long and stays on topic. This will increase your chances that the media will read it through.

Not relevant: What I mean by this is that it’s not relevant to the audience the media outlet serves. Don’t think for a minute that just because you find it interesting and compelling that your media target will. For example, I once had an author tell me about the amazing world of fly fishing, and then insist that Oprah would be interested in this topic. Really? I think not so much. Watch the show, listen to the broadcast, or read the blog or publication – before pitching.

A false sense of urgency: Often I find that folks pitching, in order to get noticed, will call upon a false sense of urgency. Yes, it’s urgent that we fix our school systems. Yes, it’s urgent that we clean up the environment. Neither of these things is going to blow up tomorrow so don’t pitch them as though they are. While it might make for a more compelling pitch, it will only serve to paint you as an unreliable and often excitable source. Neither of these is good.

Unknown senders: An unknown source or sender may be considered an unreliable one. It’s easy enough to get to know the media long before you start pitching, and I highly recommend that you do so.

Now, let’s look at 30 things you can do to make yourself, and your pitches, irresistible to the media!

1. Start early and Focus on Relationships.
2. Connect on Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn: get to know your media, connect with any local and national reporters, journalists, and news people via these social sites so you can get to know them. 
3. Comment on postings via Twitter and Facebook: comment on their postings and news when appropriate. 
4. Facebook birthdays: this is a great way to connect to everyone on your list, especially media. Wish them a happy birthday, they’ll appreciate it. 
5. Watch those Twitter hashtags: as you follow your media, you’ll start to see a trend of most-used Twitter hashtags, I highly recommend you follow them so you can see who else is talking about the story. 
6. Blog about them on your site, referencing a recent story they did. 
7. Comment on their stories, whether it’s on their site or on their media site. 
8. Sign up for Helpareporter.com (HARO) and respond to stories appropriate to your topic.
9. Get to know your smaller, regional publications, and also trade publications. Both of these tend to be easier to get to and could offer you some exposure well in advance of your book launch.
10. Get to know your local radio hosts, or the hosts of stations you’ll be targeting. Especially in radio, it’s great to get connected to the broadcast people as early as you can. They also tend to be pretty accessible.
11. Go to events where you know you might meet some media folk. This is often a great way to engage them on mutual ground. Attending the same event is a great way to start a dialog or relationship with the media. 
12. Practice your elevator pitch! What’s an elevator pitch? It’s a short, succinct description of your topic or pitch. Short enough to keep them interested (1-2 sentences) but long enough to tell the story, or at least the headline. 
13. Become a source for your target media: becoming a media source is something we’d all love to do. But this takes time. By getting to know your media, commenting on stories they write and letting them know your area of expertise, you might become one of their regular sources!
14. Become a connector: be the person the media goes to for other experts as well. How do you do this? Whenever you introduce yourself to media, make sure they know your area of expertise and your ability to connect them to other experts who might be helpful as well.
15. Every now and then, I will share a blog post with a journalist that I think will be helpful to them. I don’t do this a lot – just every once in a while. 

Join us on April 7 for Part 2 of 30 Ways to Make Yourself Irresistible to the Media by Penny Sansevieri.

Are You Driven To Write?

Many writers say they are driven to write, that they have to write, that they would write even if they never sold a thing.

I'm not among those writers.

Sometimes, other writers are perplexed. "How do you stand the loneliness then?" "How can you motivate yourself to do the hard work if you don't have to write?"

Frankly, I like solitude. I enjoy writing. I love when I'm on a roll, feeling the words spill out faster than I can think. I love the tension of try to finding the perfect word, that one with the precise meaning I want that also contains the right number of syllables to yield a smooth sentence and that has a first letter that echoes elsewhere in a word nearby. I love the research and learning things I didn't know before. I love taking a crappy first draft and shaping it, draft by draft, revision by revision, into something sharper, shorter, and more exciting.

Sure, sometimes writing is hard, but life's much harder. Writing distracts me from the difficulties of real life.

More important, though, is that I am driven ... driven to create. I've tried many many creative endeavors since childhood, and if I had been good enough at one of them, I might now be a professional musician or a professional herb gardener or a professional quilter or a professional photographer or....

Unfortunately, the only creative activity I had a real talent for was writing. So I became a writer. The drive to create is almost as good a motivator to write as a drive to write. I say "almost" because although I've given up most of my hobbies to create more time to write, I still sometimes find myself out in the garden plucking weeds or photographing my plants or their pests when I should be writing. I suspect those who are driven to write don't get diverted by opportunities to do something else creative.

How about you? Are you driven to write? If not, why did you become a writer?


I'll be blogging again on March 21. Hope to see you again then.

—Shauna Roberts

Loading Chekhov's Gun

My wife and I watched the movie Limitless the other night. In general we liked it (she more than I), but there was one aspect of the storytelling that annoyed us both. (Not having read the novel, The Dark Fields, on which the movie is based, I don't know if the problem began in the novel or is an artifact of the shorthand scriptwriters must use when transferring a novel to film.)

If you haven't seen the film and don't like spoilers, skip this paragraph. Limitless is the tale of a loser would-be writer named Morro in denial about his addictions and self-sabotaging behaviors. We see Morro dodging creditors, avoiding his editor (he's months behind on delivering a novel he's been paid for), being dumped by his successful girlfriend — who's just been promoted to editor — and rambling incoherently to strangers about the book he intends to write someday. By chance he bumps into his ex-wife's brother, Vernon, who used to be his coke supplier. The two pick up where they left off, only now the drug is NZT, a mind enhancer developed by a major pharmaceutical company that gives it's user access to all of his brain's potential. One tab and loser Morro writes a thesis for a beautiful law student (for which she is physically grateful), cleans his apartment, and writes four chapters of the novel in an hour. The next morning he's back to normal and goes in search of Vernon. Vernon will keep Morro supplied if Morro works for him. He sends Morro out on errands. When Morro returns, Vernon is dead and his apartment has been trashed. Because he knows Vernon, Morro is able to find what the killers couldn't—where the supply of NZT and Vernon's client list are hidden. For the next hour we watch Morro manifesting a wide range of talents as he shoots to the top as an investor and the editor-girlfriend who dumped him takes him back. In the process Morro make three fundamental mistakes: he borrows needed seed money from a Russian loan shark; he doesn't hire a biochemist to try and replicate NZT until his supply is half gone; and he attracts the attention of Robert DeNiro (who in this case is the guy who hires Donald Trump to polish his shoes). The Russian threatens Morro in a Russian/Welsh accent until he gets some NZT; the scientis tells him it will take six to twelve months to synthesize NZT; DeNiro hires him and watches him very closely. Then Morro learns all of Vernon's other customers are either dead or in comas; quitting NZT has lethal side effects. His girlfriend learns of NZT and dumps him again—she's not interested in a guy who can only get ahead on drugs. Then things get worse. Much bloodshed ensues, with a fairly believable outcome. Then.... In the last several minutes (from when the words "One year later" appear on the screen until the end) everything is wrapped up at warp speed. Every problem threatening the hero is not only solved, but presented as already having been solved. The film ends with Morro and his girlfriend at a Chinese restaurant (he banters with the waiter in Mandarin).

In hashing through the movie after the fact, Valerie and I were able to spot moments in the film — bits of dialog, visual clues — that made all the loose ends getting tied in a bow plausible. So in a sense the ending didn't just pop out of thin air. But. We should not have had to work that hard to convince ourselves the resolution made sense.

I first heard of Chekhov's Gun from my theatre professor at Rollins College forty years ago. Dr. Juergens quoted Anton Chekhov's maxim as: "If there's a rifle on stage in act one, someone must be shot in act two." Though I've since learned that's a paraphrase, it's still the version I prefer; who knows, perhaps Chekhov did say that at one time. What we do know is that he wrote two different versions in two letters to colleagues: "If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired. Otherwise don't put it there." and "One must not put a rifle on the stage if no one is thinking of firing it."

Chekhov's example is particularly literal — he certainly knew there were reasons other than shooting for a gun to be on stage. If the protagonist is a pacifist vegan, a display of rifles and mounted animal heads dominating the living room of his employer or potential father-in-law could set up a conflict. Chekhov's point was that nothing should be on stage — or in the story — that does not serve a purpose.

However, it can be taken another way; and very often is. Chekhov's Gun can also be used to illustrate the necessity of foreshadowing (and that's the sense I was addressing in my comments on Limitless). A writer who pulls a resolution or character or motivation or event out of thin air is not playing fair with her readers. Okay, everything in our stories comes out of thin air—or whatever it is we have between our ears; point taken. By 'thin air' I mean anything outside the scope of the story.

This rule is most often cited in mystery fiction — a well-told mystery presents the reader with all the information necessary to solve whatever puzzle confronts the protagonist in such a way that the reader has an of course! experience at the dénouement (but not so obviously that the reader solves the problem before the protagonist). In a classic Christie example, Poirot asks the butler to tell him the date on the victim's desk calendar. That worthy leans over to peer at the page before saying "the fourth." The important information is not that the victim was last at his desk on the fourth, but that the butler is very nearsighted; his eyewitness account is unreliable. Ellery Queen used to take this a step farther. He (okay, 'they') would break the fourth wall of the story to challenge the reader: "You now have all the clues you need to solve the mystery. Do you know who the killer is?" (I know I was not the only reader to stop at that point and go back over the story to determine what information was relevant and solve the case before Ellery.)

However, this fundamental of writing is not restricted to mysteries. All writers owe the reader a story that makes sense, if only internally. The warrior can't suddenly remember an eldritch chant learned in youth to best the dark mage with no previous mention of her childhood. The medical missionary being forced to abandon a vital clinic due to lack of funds can't have a rich aunt die and leave him enough money to run the clinic for decades. A protagonist cannot be prevented from marrying her soul mate by religious/moral/ethical/political restraints for 342 pages only to have everyone agree on page 343 that love conquers—or perhaps trumps—all and they should live happily ever.

There must be scenes early on of the child-who-would-be-warrior learning the chants — perhaps as preparation for life she chose not to follow; perhaps as singing along with what she thought were nonsense songs her father had made up to entertain her. The doctor's family, and his relationship to them, must be established early on. (Perhaps his parents were angry/disappointed in him for "wasting" his talents on the poor when he should be trying to find a cure for his aunt's cancer — or at least taking care of her — while he had the hope his aunt, who had been a pioneer in her day, secretly approved of his chosen work, even if she never said it in so many words.) Two people, no matter how in love, cannot violate the fundamental tenets of their respective worlds unless all the groundwork for their reasons and actions that makes sense within the context of the story has been set in place from the beginning.

And none of these things can be done with a glib throwaway line here or a heretofore unmentioned letter there or a character wandering randomly in from the wings at precisely the right moment. Serendipity happens in real life; it has no place in fiction.

Propping Chekhov's Gun in the corner of the set before the curtain rises is not sufficient. It has to be carried on stage in the full glare of the lights, then loaded and placed in position in plain sight of the audience. It's not necessary to shout or call attention to the process, but every step must be clear and happen in order. Anything less is cheating the reader. You can't fire the gun in act two unless you cock it in act one.

Where Do You Get Your Ideas?

I usually pause to scream when someone asks me this. Well, not really. Mostly I'm screaming inside my head. Three reasons. First, I  can't easily answer. Second, I'm wondering why it matters to anyone. Third, there is no one answer. It's different for each book. The first time I got this question I sat there with a blank expression for two seconds and then just made something up. I was speaking at a literary event. Way to impress, right?

I've never not had ideas for stories. Never. So the reason I'd go blank the first few times I got this question is because the whole idea process happens naturally. Now I'm a grown-up writer on purpose. By that I mean I've matured creatively. Certain aspects of my craft are  done on purpose. This has made me a better writer. The one thing I don't do on purpose is hunt for ideas. My brain just works that way. However, I realize that one day I may need a strategy for coming up with ideas. So here are a few I'll share:

1. Pimp your peeps! Sounds seedy doesn't it? What-ev. A good book is worth it, sugar. Think of dramatic, funny, suspenseful, and scandalous incidents in your family and friends circle.

Then play the "What if?" game. Many times the germ of whole books come from one snippet. For example, a novel I wrote is set is the small town of Solitude, Louisiana. Solitude is in West Feliciana Parish. My late uncle told me about visiting Rosedown Plantation as a child. He would swing  on the huge white gate while my great aunt had coffee and cake with the last descendant of the original family that built Rosedown. He said great aunt Julia looked just like Miss Barrow. Everyone knew what that meant, but speaking it aloud in West Feliciana Parish was (still is) taboo. Years later A Time To Love was written with a subplot inspired by that story.
A family account about a mistress and wife who formed an alliance, to the dismay of the husband, inspired Best Enemies. The real story took place in 1920s rural Louisiana. Best Enemies is contemporary, but the idea of a wife and mistress who become friends to solve a murder has roots in that one afternoon when my elders talked and, curious ten year old Lynn eavesdropped.

2. Be nosy. The cleaned up word for this is for writers to be "curious", or "observant". Let's be real. We're all up in OPB, "other people's business". I use the bad news that CNN, the local newspaper and a variety of news outlets love to report. This informs me about the criminal world, key since I write mysteries and romantic suspense. Of course I can fall back on pimping my peeps since I have some unsavory branches in the old family tree. In After All I used a local scandal that involved the public housing agency to build an entire suspense subplot interwoven with the romance plot. I simply used the newspaper articles that told the whole unsavory story. Easiest research I've ever done. Coincidentally I had met one of the players, a contractor who was later convicted and served time.

3. Use where you live shamelessly. Louisiana is a gold mine. Use your state and hometown. Historical facts and events can make the "What if" game a lot of fun. In A Darker Shade of Midnight the history  of Haitian descendants who came to Louisiana plays a big part in characterization (the heroine and her ancestors). In the sequel I'm writing now, Between Dusk and Dawn, I use more fascinating bits. One little know fact is that a group of Blacks from Louisiana moved to Mexico in the 1870s to escape Jim Crow. I weave these kinds of references in to add spice to my novels, which are mostly set in Louisiana.

February is Black History Month here in the U.S., and March is Women's History Month. Because I love history, I celebrate continuously. History helps me fill out settings, build characterizations and generate plots.

For more on getting ideas see this helpful site- Creative Prompts for Writers

I must feed my need for good fiction, so keep writing!

What part of writing comes to you naturally, and what have you had to work on? Setting, description, dialogue, plotting, transitions, pacing?
Lynn