From The Writer's Chair Some thoughts on recent Pop-Up entries, particularly the thrillers

[Adrian Bagley]

I've noticed a trend recently of people submitting e.g. exciting-sounding thrillers that open on a character's very ordinary life. The comments, naturally, tend towards "start in a different place" or "flash forward to an exciting scene first, then fill in the backstory afterwards".

Which is excellent advice, particularly for a thriller. But there can be pitfalls there, too - for example, starting with Mary being rushed into hospital. Dramatic! But we don't care, because we don't have any reason to care about Mary yet. And I think that goes to the heart of what the authors are trying to do. They want to make us care about Mary and her life before they lob a stick of dynamite into the middle of it.

And here's the thing... even if you open on an exciting scene and then flash back to your character's "ordinary" life, that only buys you so much leeway. You still have to make it interesting or the book's a snoozefest.

FWIW, here are my thoughts.

1) No one's life is ordinary. In particular, no protagonist's life is ordinary.
2) There are lots of examples of books and drama series where the writers took their time to really invest us in the characters and their lives before blowing it all up. How did they get away with the slow beginning? Carefully, and by focussing on what makes that "ordinary" life interesting.

Bilbo Baggins started his journey with a very ordinary life... in The Shire... in Middle-Earth. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory doesn't open with a flash-forward to Charlie diving headfirst into a vat of chocolate. It starts with his ordinary life... of abject, grinding poverty. Dahl miraculously avoids making this depressing or straying out of the target age range, and the result is that we care passionately about Charlie from page one. Because we care about Charlie, we care about his story, and we don't notice that nothing exciting has happened yet. Harry Potter uses much the same trick.

In short, you don't necessarily have to open with a bang, but you do have to open with a hook. Grab our interest and never let go.

"Mary Jane had a perfect life." You've just planted the idea that Mary's "perfect" life is not going to last... and given yourself an excuse to spend some time describing it. As you show us what a perfectionist she is, how everything has to be just so, the suspense ratchets up as we realise just how badly she's going to handle it when everything goes wrong.

Neera is a bank manager who goes on to become an international jewel thief. How do we make her backstory interesting? She's working 20-hour days. We open on her driving home from work, so exhausted that she drives straight into a tree.

Jane is a stay-at-home mum. Is her life ordinary? Noooooo, we open on her going into the nursery to find baby lying smugly on the floor having dismantled his own crib, clawed his way out of the babygrow and smeared the contents of his own nappy over every surface in the room (I was that baby).

So my advice is to throw away the idea that your protagonist ever had an "ordinary" life, and focus instead on what makes it interesting. Dial that up to eleven, and off you go...

 

[Vagabond Heart]

I agree with much of what you say - particularly ‘you don’t have to open with a bang, you do have to open with a hook’.

I suspect you’ve noticed what we pick up on, in Pop-ups, when the needle has swung too far the other way? When the start is all ‘bang’ but we have no reason to care. Getting the balance right is hard.

I once heard a famous author say, ‘write the story, then go back and figure out when the real heart of it begins. Then start it again from there.’

Another author routinely assumes his first six chapters will end in the trash, as a matter of course.

Any, and all, advice that helps us navigate those tricky first pages is welcome here. Xxx

 

[Rachael Burnett]

I personally don't mind a slow start and don't require a bang, but it does have to grab and that can be from voice alone in say The Catcher in the Rye. I also think the devices used by Sylvia Plath in The Bell Jar hits both bang and voice alongside the rhythm on the writing in her opening line:

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenburgs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.

Despite the novel having nothing to do with true event on the Rosenburgs' executions, it pulls me in and the sibilance of 'sultry summer' is evocative of the electric chair. That the protagonist doesn't know why she's in NY, I want to find out.

 

[Adrian Bagley]

I suspect you’ve noticed what we pick up on, in Pop-ups, when the needle has swung too far the other way? When the start is all ‘bang’ but we have no reason to care. Getting the balance right is hard.

Yessss, it's nigh-on impossible, right? Oof, imagine throwing away the first six chapters as a matter of course! Not sure my heart could take it.

 

[Adrian Bagley]

I personally don't mind a slow start and don't require a bang, but it does have to grab and than can be from voice alone in say The Catcher in the Rye. I also think the devices used by Sylvia Plath in The Bell Jar hits both bang and voice alongside the rhythm on the writing in her opening line:

It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenburgs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York.

Despite the novel having nothing to do with true event on the Rosenburgs' executions, it pulls me in and the sibilance of 'sultry summer' is evocative of the electric chair. That the protagonist doesn't know why she's in NY, I want to find out.

Love the examples!

 

[Claire G]

I've noticed a trend recently of people submitting e.g. exciting-sounding thrillers that open on a character's very ordinary life. The comments, naturally, tend towards "start in a different place" or "flash forward to an exciting scene first, then fill in the backstory afterwards".

Which is excellent advice, particularly for a thriller. But there can be pitfalls there, too - for example, starting with Mary being rushed into hospital. Dramatic! But we don't care, because we don't have any reason to care about Mary yet. And I think that goes to the heart of what the authors are trying to do. They want to make us care about Mary and her life before they lob a stick of dynamite into the middle of it.

And here's the thing... even if you open on an exciting scene and then flash back to your character's "ordinary" life, that only buys you so much leeway. You still have to make it interesting or the book's a snoozefest.

FWIW, here are my thoughts.

1) No one's life is ordinary. In particular, no protagonist's life is ordinary.
2) There are lots of examples of books and drama series where the writers took their time to really invest us in the characters and their lives before blowing it all up. How did they get away with the slow beginning? Carefully, and by focussing on what makes that "ordinary" life interesting.

Bilbo Baggins started his journey with a very ordinary life... in The Shire... in Middle-Earth. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory doesn't open with a flash-forward to Charlie diving headfirst into a vat of chocolate. It starts with his ordinary life... of abject, grinding poverty. Dahl miraculously avoids making this depressing or straying out of the target age range, and the result is that we care passionately about Charlie from page one. Because we care about Charlie, we care about his story, and we don't notice that nothing exciting has happened yet. Harry Potter uses much the same trick.

In short, you don't necessarily have to open with a bang, but you do have to open with a hook. Grab our interest and never let go.

"Mary Jane had a perfect life." You've just planted the idea that Mary's "perfect" life is not going to last... and given yourself an excuse to spend some time describing it. As you show us what a perfectionist she is, how everything has to be just so, the suspense ratchets up as we realise just how badly she's going to handle it when everything goes wrong.

Neera is a bank manager who goes on to become an international jewel thief. How do we make her backstory interesting? She's working 20-hour days. We open on her driving home from work, so exhausted that she drives straight into a tree.

Jane is a stay-at-home mum. Is her life ordinary? Noooooo, we open on her going into the nursery to find baby lying smugly on the floor having dismantled his own crib, clawed his way out of the babygrow and smeared the contents of his own nappy over every surface in the room (I was that baby).

So my advice is to throw away the idea that your protagonist ever had an "ordinary" life, and focus instead on what makes it interesting. Dial that up to eleven, and off you go...

I think it's the way they do it that's the problem. Ordinary is fine, boring is not.

 

[Pamela Jo]

I think it's the way they do it that's the problem. Ordinary is fine, boring is not.

Advice from an editor I once had. "Don't bore the pants off people." My follow up is , "Writing is seduction."

I really like this editor. I also think many writers don't realise that 750 words is actually a pretty long scene. It's like life. Both longer and shorter than we can comprehend when we first start out.

 

[James Charles]

I'm reading the Darwin Affair now. Starts with an assissination attempt on Queen Victoria. Not much about the MC until later.

 

[Eva Ulian]

Starts with an assissination attempt on Queen Victoria

I think that works because we already "know" Queen Victoria.

 

[Eva Ulian]

I totally agree with what most people are saying- my view is that an opening does not need to be sensational but interesting and exciting enough to make me curious and want to read on.

Waking-up and having breakfast will not make me want to read on be it a thriller or not.

 

[Adrian Bagley]

Advice from an editor I once had. "Don't bore the pants off people." My follow up is , "Writing is seduction."

I really like this editor. I also think many writers don't realise that 750 words is actually a pretty long scene. It's like life. Both longer and shorter than we can comprehend when we first start out.

Great video, really helpful advice

 

[Hannah F]

Important phrase from the video: How long you can spend within the status quo depends on how compelling you can make that scene.

Every now and then, we have a pop up submission which begins slowly but oh so compellingly with great voice. Those openings pretty much stay in my head forever. Many times, however, the mundanity of the opening scene would make watching grass grow pretty engrossing in comparison.

 

[CageSage]

To decide how to open a novel to hook a reader best suited to that type of story, questions need to be asked and answered.

The questions to ask:
Is this story a comedy (happier ending), or tragedy (justice is served)?
Is it a journey (from [?] to [?]), or
Does a stranger arrive?

Which category does it fit?
What are the categories, in general? These:
Wonder (awe, new things)
Idea (mental exploration, fascinate reader)
Adventure (wish fulfilment; everyman victory)
Horror (Fear of the unknown, anticipation of same)
Mystery (solving a puzzle)
Thriller (fear of the known, danger, chase)
Humour (the three-beat that ends with a twist; PPP – promise, progression, payoff)
Relationship (Development, obstacles, how they deal with issues; will they?)
Drama (character transformation)
Issue (raising questions in an entertaining way)
Ensemble (team/crew story; sports, heist)
Fable, tale, myth, folk/fairy tale (each has a specific definition of the form).

How do the MICE paradigms apply?
What is that?
Milieu
Begins on arrival in a strange land/setting/community.
Ends when the character returns changed, or accepts the place as home.
Inquiry
Begins by raising a question.
Ends when the question is answered.
Character
This story is about character change.
Begins when the main character is in the state of knowing things need to change. The need for change is undeniable, even if subtle.
Ends when the new role accepted, or they give up the struggle.
Event
Something is wrong in the fabric of the universe; Monster appears
Begins when main character becomes involved in struggle.
Ends when new order established, or
Old order restored, or
The world descends into chaos and the forces of order are destroyed.

The above have open/close sets. If the story opens as an event, it closes as an event paradigm. Most, if not all, of the MICE functions will appear in a story, so whether a subset or the main event, they close in the correct order or it feels unsettled.

Next question:
Which genre trope plays out through this story?
This is a big question, and I’d suggest searching through TVTropes online for an answer.

In the beginning:
Open with something that captures interest and relates to all of the above that applies to the story.
It could be a sense of frustration or constraints (as in a comedy-drama where the character has to change but ignores the niggles)
It could be an unbelievable happiness (blindness to obvious subtext signals)
It could be a bit of foreshadowing of change (a knock on the door)
Or a sense of something:
An emotion/fear
Something missing
A need to find something, either physical or otherwise.
It could even be a scenario that sets the character against his own shadow (most thrillers open with a chase/capture that has not much to do with the main story, but it sets the tone for the story).

 

[James Charles]

Advice from an editor I once had. "Don't bore the pants off people." My follow up is , "Writing is seduction."

I really like this editor. I also think many writers don't realise that 750 words is actually a pretty long scene. It's like life. Both longer and shorter than we can comprehend when we first start out.

Good info, but is she 12?

 

[Pamela Jo]

Good info, but is she 12?

I know-she's actually retired to raise her kid. She's already had a WHOLE successful career of editing.

 

[Pamela Jo]

Great video, really helpful advice

( just realised if I combined my own advice I could end up writing the next Grey series.

 

[MattScho]

I think that works because we already "know" Queen Victoria.

Who?

 

[MattScho]

Thrillers don't need to start with a bang, but they do need to start with something thrilling, right? It's the entire point of the genre, and esp if we're not Clancy or Grisham, agents, publishers, readers giving you a first try, will need to know you've got that trick up your sleeve right away, because if not there are a lot of other options that do.
So I grabbed a random thriller off my shelf. It's Shute, so not saying we have to be in this league because we won't be, but it isn't an overly popular work (It's not On the Beach or A town like Alice). It's The Chequer Board, published in '47 and called "His most significant work" by someone at the NYT who needed to say something about the thing because they were paid to review it. My copy was printed in '65.
This is the opening:
I saw Mr. Turner first on June the 25th last year. He came to me on the recommendation of a general practioner at Watford: I have the letter before me: (then the letter, then the visit, then the narrators life goes to hell).
Now, this isn't a favorite kickoff, but it does work for this conversation. There is no bang. But there is an immediate mystery, or what we call a cookie, namely who the f is Mr. Turner? And what happened during this past year that merits a tale about him. there's an underlying tension that seeps out of those words. The author has made a clear choice, and by opening in this way, we know something about this matters. It, to me, actually reads kind of creepy, despite it seeming normal on the surface.
FYI, what I was attempting with the graf above that began "So i grabbed..." is essentially what Shute is doing to open this work. I was attempting to create a mystery, in order to convince a reader to read the next sentence.
Becuase that's what all writing is, really, a very fragile contract between writer and reader that the story being unfurled here is worthwhile. the reader will make their mind up, at first, sentence to sentence, about whether or not to continue.
The reason behind only 700 words on Pop-Ups is that is the absolute maximum a new writer can expect from a slush pile reading (and really, not that, more like 0 if the letter and blurb don't work, and then if they do, more like 50, then a full page and then maybe, more.

So, let's look at a young writer's opening words to The Firm, which was before Grisham was simply Grisham, but just barely. I pilfered this off his website.
"THE SENIOR PARTNER studied the résumé for the hundredth time and again found nothing he disliked about Mitchell Y. McDeere, at least not on paper. He had the brains, the ambition, the good looks. And he was hungry; with his background, he had to be. He was married, and that was mandatory. The firm had never hired an unmarried lawyer, and it frowned heavily on divorce, as well as womanizing and drinking. Drug testing was in the contract. He had a degree in accounting, passed the CPA exam the first time he took it and wanted to be a tax lawyer, which of course was a requirement with a tax firm. He was white, and the firm had never hired a black. They managed this by being secretive and clubbish and never soliciting job applications. Other firms solicited, and hired blacks. This firm recruited, and remained lily white. Plus, the firm was in Memphis, of all places, and the top blacks wanted New York or Washington or Chicago. McDeere was a male, and there were no women in the firm. That mistake had been made in the mid-seventies when they recruited the number one grad from Harvard, who happened to be a she and a wizard at taxation. She lasted four turbulent years and was killed in a car wreck.
He looked good, on paper. He was their top choice. In fact, for this year there were no other prospects. The list was very short. It was McDeere or no one."
Some of my favorite thriller openings aren't explosions, they're spider webs, slowly closing off the only existing escape routes. My very favorites are those that flip the script, who is really the spider, and who is the prey?
I remember reading this when it came out, and finding it as i do now, creepy AF. the hairs on the back of neck went up, still go up. We haven't really met our MC, but we can sense something is about to go really, really wrong in his life if he joins this firm, and we care about him because we fear for him. It's a beautiful bit of undercurrent tension, IMO.
But there's no running and screaming and exploding. I think too often we look at something like this and think, well, it's not fair to compare my work to that of a Shute or Ambler or even a Leonard or a Grisham. But that's exactly what readers are doing.

 

[Adrian Bagley]

I remember reading this when it came out, and finding it as i do now, creepy AF. the hairs on the back of neck went up, still go up. We haven't really met our MC, but we can sense something is about to go really, really wrong in his life if he joins this firm, and we care about him because we fear for him. It's a beautiful bit of undercurrent tension, IMO.
But there's no running and screaming and exploding. I think too often we look at something like this and think, well, it's not fair to compare my work to that of a Shute or Ambler or even a Leonard or a Grisham. But that's exactly what readers are doing.

So creepy. I wonder if he could've got away with that kind of subtlety if it had been his debut, though?

 

[Pamela Jo]

Thrillers don't need to start with a bang, but they do need to start with something thrilling, right? It's the entire point of the genre, and esp if we're not Clancy or Grisham, agents, publishers, readers giving you a first try, will need to know you've got that trick up your sleeve right away, because if not there are a lot of other options that do.
So I grabbed a random thriller off my shelf. It's Shute, so not saying we have to be in this league because we won't be, but it isn't an overly popular work (It's not On the Beach or A town like Alice). It's The Chequer Board, published in '47 and called "His most significant work" by someone at the NYT who needed to say something about the thing because they were paid to review it. My copy was printed in '65.
This is the opening:
I saw Mr. Turner first on June the 25th last year. He came to me on the recommendation of a general practioner at Watford: I have the letter before me: (then the letter, then the visit, then the narrators life goes to hell).
Now, this isn't a favorite kickoff, but it does work for this conversation. There is no bang. But there is an immediate mystery, or what we call a cookie, namely who the f is Mr. Turner? And what happened during this past year that merits a tale about him. there's an underlying tension that seeps out of those words. The author has made a clear choice, and by opening in this way, we know something about this matters. It, to me, actually reads kind of creepy, despite it seeming normal on the surface.
FYI, what I was attempting with the graf above that began "So i grabbed..." is essentially what Shute is doing to open this work. I was attempting to create a mystery, in order to convince a reader to read the next sentence.
Becuase that's what all writing is, really, a very fragile contract between writer and reader that the story being unfurled here is worthwhile. the reader will make their mind up, at first, sentence to sentence, about whether or not to continue.
The reason behind only 700 words on Pop-Ups is that is the absolute maximum a new writer can expect from a slush pile reading (and really, not that, more like 0 if the letter and blurb don't work, and then if they do, more like 50, then a full page and then maybe, more.

So, let's look at a young writer's opening words to The Firm, which was before Grisham was simply Grisham, but just barely. I pilfered this off his website.
"THE SENIOR PARTNER studied the résumé for the hundredth time and again found nothing he disliked about Mitchell Y. McDeere, at least not on paper. He had the brains, the ambition, the good looks. And he was hungry; with his background, he had to be. He was married, and that was mandatory. The firm had never hired an unmarried lawyer, and it frowned heavily on divorce, as well as womanizing and drinking. Drug testing was in the contract. He had a degree in accounting, passed the CPA exam the first time he took it and wanted to be a tax lawyer, which of course was a requirement with a tax firm. He was white, and the firm had never hired a black. They managed this by being secretive and clubbish and never soliciting job applications. Other firms solicited, and hired blacks. This firm recruited, and remained lily white. Plus, the firm was in Memphis, of all places, and the top blacks wanted New York or Washington or Chicago. McDeere was a male, and there were no women in the firm. That mistake had been made in the mid-seventies when they recruited the number one grad from Harvard, who happened to be a she and a wizard at taxation. She lasted four turbulent years and was killed in a car wreck.
He looked good, on paper. He was their top choice. In fact, for this year there were no other prospects. The list was very short. It was McDeere or no one."
Some of my favorite thriller openings aren't explosions, they're spider webs, slowly closing off the only existing escape routes. My very favorites are those that flip the script, who is really the spider, and who is the prey?
I remember reading this when it came out, and finding it as i do now, creepy AF. the hairs on the back of neck went up, still go up. We haven't really met our MC, but we can sense something is about to go really, really wrong in his life if he joins this firm, and we care about him because we fear for him. It's a beautiful bit of undercurrent tension, IMO.
But there's no running and screaming and exploding. I think too often we look at something like this and think, well, it's not fair to compare my work to that of a Shute or Ambler or even a Leonard or a Grisham. But that's exactly what readers are doing.

Agreed I think The Firm was the first Grisham I read and it was un put down able. Any coincidence the royal family refer to themselves by the same name? Would it be referred to as a psychological thriller today? Where would you put Michael Crichton's books? I always found his openings irresistible. Almost none of them were in media res. if I recall correctly-they were the spider web variety. I'm reading as much as I can of Martin Cruz Smith. He is the Swiss watchmaker of thrillers to me.

 

[MattScho]

So creepy. I wonder if he could've got away with that kind of subtlety if it had been his debut, though?

His first book, and the only one published before this, was A Time to Kill, which didn't sell well until after The Firm became a megahit. In the eyes of publishers, agents, etc, this was in the same ballpark. Actually, bit worse, isn't it, because when you have one work out that sells right on the maybe worthwhile, maybe not line, the second book determines whether you are dropped like a hot potato. My Dad's first sold 15,000, a bit more than a time to kill before the Firm. His second sold fewer than 10,000, and his agent as well as publisher were done with him.
Also, was that subtle? Every line was screaming "Run away." That description of the firm was Hitchcock's bomb on the bus, wasn't it?

 

[Adrian Bagley]

His first book, and the only one published before this, was A Time to Kill, which didn't sell well until after The Firm became a megahit. In the eyes of publishers, agents, etc, this was in the same ballpark. Actually, bit worse, isn't it, because when you have one work out that sells right on the maybe worthwhile, maybe not line, the second book determines whether you are dropped like a hot potato. My Dad's first sold 15,000, a bit more than a time to kill before the Firm. His second sold fewer than 10,000, and his agent as well as publisher were done with him.
Also, was that subtle? Every line was screaming "Run away." That description of the firm was Hitchcock's bomb on the bus, wasn't it?

Good point re. sales, definitely makes the point that you don't have to open with a gunfight. That's all I really meant by subtle - it requires the agent/publisher to be looking for something clever that might turn out to be fantastic rather than something that screams "thrilling" right from the very first line. But yes, definitely screams "run away"!

 

[Hannah F]

Point to make, which the video didn't make:
If you have an exciting prologue but the following set up of your status quo is long and tedious, the reader may well put the book down. Also, your slow-grow status quo will be even more yawn-inducing after the exciting (or thrilling) prologue. A prologue (especially by newbie writers) is often used to overcome a sluggish start, but it doesn't. It makes the sluggish start worse. As @AgentPete says in a pop-up video, if you start with a prologue followed by chapter one, you are essentially starting the book twice and both must hook the reader. If your chapter one is contrastingly tedious/banal/mundane for too long, you have started your plot in the wrong place.

 

[MattScho]

Point to make, which the video didn't make:
If you have an exciting prologue but the following set up of your status quo is long and tedious, the reader may well put the book down. Also, your slow-grow status quo will be even more yawn-inducing after the exciting (or thrilling) prologue. A prologue (especially by newbie writers) is often used to overcome a sluggish start, but it doesn't. It makes the sluggish start worse. As @AgentPete says in a pop-up video, if you start with a prologue followed by chapter one, you are essentially starting the book twice and both must hook the reader. If your chapter one is contrastingly tedious/banal/mundane for too long, you have started your plot in the wrong place.

I think a fundamental problem we often have as writers is we have all of this cool stuff we want to get in, but we can't always see a natural way for it to work, so the info dump seems attractive, and we wonder how deep do I have to be into the story before readers will stick with me through a dense chapter of info. The answer is that's really only gonna work in the space after the book is finished, and maybe we can get some eager readers online. but probably not.

 

[CageSage]

We haven't really met our MC

But we did meet him - on paper, and through the eyes of a bigot who chose him to become part of the power structure. I don't think this is subtle, I think it's equivalent to the antag getting first dibs to the story and the creepiness of his attitude is a warning to the person who will be 'under his wing'. I already worry/care for the man the antag has chosen to put in the game.

 

[Jonny]

Sorry, late to this. Great thread. My thoughts regarding the general subject in Adrian's OP.

I've never been a big supporter of it has to be crash, bang, wallop from the off. Au cointraire, actually.

Equally, I don't hold to the idea books must be "structured" and created by adherence to hard and fast (break these at your peril) "craft rules".

One of my favourite authors is Chris Brookmyre. He does action and dialogue as esay as pie. He often sets up slowly too. But the thing that strikes me is this. In every one of his novels I've read so far there are pages and pages of backstory, (and god forbid) telling and even info dumping.

Each of these techniques has its place, and if handled adroitly, makes for the complete experience.

If the words are engaging and flow well, then I simply will go with them and trust the author. I try to disassociate myself from being a writer when being a reader. All I ask is for decent presentation, grammar and spelling. Oh, and a good story helps too.

Before dipping my toe in the waters of writing I read many books and never once did I question any of the above elements. In fiction particularly, we are story tellers. We're sitting round a metaphorical camp fire telling our tribe stories, myths and legends. How we choose to do that forms our voice and style.

To some readers it will be appealing and to others not so much. To those movers and shakers in the biz, the ones whose eyes we're hoping to catch, it will have commercial appeal and potential or else be zapped into oblivion courtesy of their delete button.

 

[Pamela Jo]

Sorry, late to this. Great thread. My thoughts regarding the general subject in Adrian's OP.

I've never been a big supporter of it has to be crash, bang, wallop from the off. Au cointraire, actually.

Equally, I don't hold to the idea books must be "structured" and created by adherence to hard and fast (break these at your peril) "craft rules".

One of my favourite authors is Chris Brookmyre. He does action and dialogue as esay as pie. He often sets up slowly too. But the thing that strikes me is this. In every one of his novels I've read so far there are pages and pages of backstory, (and god forbid) telling and even info dumping.

Each of these techniques has its place, and if handled adroitly, makes for the complete experience.

If the words are engaging and flow well, then I simply will go with them and trust the author. I try to disassociate myself from being a writer when being a reader. All I ask is for decent presentation, grammar and spelling. Oh, and a good story helps too.

Before dipping my toe in the waters of writing I read many books and never once did I question any of the above elements. In fiction particularly, we are story tellers. We're sitting round a metaphorical camp fire telling our tribe stories, myths and legends. How we choose to do that forms our voice and style.

To some readers it will be appealing and to others not so much. To those movers and shakers in the biz, the ones whose eyes we're hoping to catch, it will have commercial appeal and potential or else be zapped into oblivion courtesy of their delete button.

I just read a blog by an agent answering the Q, "What do I put in a query that guarantees an answer." The answer is glaringly obvious. Give a surefire win-with no risk attached. The maxim in business is the higher the risk-the higher the return, but not for the last 30 years.

 

[MattScho]

An old friend used to give writer conference talks, and she would open with a story about a quite famous piece she'd written, dealing with AIDS in rural US.

Her conference talks, summed up:

She'd arrived at the hospital bed of a subject, covered in tubes and machines and clearly dying. his family was deep in talks about whether the time to end life support was now. The discussion was heated and laden with guilt (many had abandoned him on learning he was gay). Finally, a family member turned to my friend and said, "You spent more time talking to him, and about life and death topics, than any of us." the other family soon chimed in and agreed, she was the only person who really knew what he would have wanted. the decision on whether or not to end life support should be his, and as she knew better than they, would have to be hers. She realized the next words out of her mouth would determine whether this young man died today, or lived.

And that's where she stopped her story and started talking about writerly stuff, etc.

That, to me, is the essence of what we want in our first 700 words. It doesn't need to explode, unless it needs to explode. But it needs to grab a reader and make them shout "WTF happens next?"

It's Hitchcock's bomb on the bus, Show the reader the bomb. Make it clear that the bomb is going to explode. But you can't detonate that bomb. then you detonate that bomb.

 

[Pamela Jo]

It's Hitchcock's bomb on the bus, Show the reader the bomb. Make it clear that the bomb is going to explode. But you can't detonate that bomb. then you detonate that bomb.

OK. This is your next thriller. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

Lioness believed to be on loose in Berlin

People urged to stay inside as officials track down ‘dangerous animal’ in south-west of capital

www.theguardian.com

 

[Jonny]

OK. This is your next thriller. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

Lioness believed to be on loose in Berlin

People urged to stay inside as officials track down ‘dangerous animal’ in south-west of capital

www.theguardian.com

Sheee-uttt!.

Stay indoors, Matt. Or else maybe call Captain Biggar in on the case.