Bad Reviews

21/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

It’s sometimes said that getting a bad review is better than getting no reviews at all. Some readers like checking out what a book is really like if there are loads of one and two-star reviews amongst higher ratings. As Oscar Wilde advised: “There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.“

Criticism can be succinct. The pithy humorist Ambrose Bierce was asked to evaluate a sleep-inducing tome and apparently, he handed in a caustic one-line review: “The covers of this book are too far apart.“

That doesn’t mean to say that harsh words don’t hurt. As Thomas Mann has written:

“Our receptivity to praise stands in no relationship to our vulnerability to mean disdain and spiteful abuse. No matter how stupid such abuse is, no matter how plainly impelled by private rancours, as an expression of hostility it occupies us far more deeply and lastingly than praise. Which is very foolish, since enemies are, of course, the necessary concomitant of any robust life, the very proof of its strength.”

Jean Cocteau took a sanguine approach to critics:

“Listen very carefully to the first criticisms of your work. Note just what it is about your work that the reviewers don’t like; it may be the only thing in your work that is original and worthwhile.”

I was prompted into starting this thread, after reading a witty review of a 1973 British science fiction film, called The Final Programme, which was on the Talking Pictures channel of Freeview recently. Based on a novel written by Michael Moorcock, strangely, it was the only one of his books to be filmed. From the outset, it’s a mess, and curious about its history, I looked online. One critic found the film “an almost unmitigated disaster”, with “an ending so inane that you will want your money back even if you wait and see it on television.“

A poor review for a film can mean box office disaster, though there are plenty of movies that were savaged by critics, but loved by audiences. This tends to happen with a series of films, where the standard deteriorates: Scary Movie 5 was detested by the critics, but still filled theatre seats, making a profit of $58.4 million.

I thought that with books, readers would pay more attention to reviews, as it’s certainly one of the ways that I choose what to read, but according to several surveys I looked at, a tiny percentage, about 2%, cite reviews as being a determining factor. Rather, people choose by browsing within a genre they favour and look for authors they already know.

This should be encouraging, though there’s still the problem of how to get known in the first place. As unknown authors, if we’re self-publishing, we’re advised that it’s vital to get favourable book reviews, and hustlers made a lucrative living offering pay-for reviews.

I admit, that when looking for books to read, by requesting them from my public library, a bad review will put me off, though I retain loyalty to authors that I like so I may try a title that gets panned. Some fans of best-selling writers don’t care either way. At the time of writing, in April 2019, E.L. James has just published her first novel outside the 50 Shades series. Called The Mister, I’ve yet to see a good review of it.

Will that affect sales?

What do you think?

Writing

KISS: Your Story’s Themes

21/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

I came across a quote by American figurative painter Alex Katz which set me wondering about the themes of my last novel.

It’s usually three-quarters of the way through writing a novel, that I pause to contemplate whether what I intended the underlying message of my story to be has actually been expressed. Also, has the story arc of my protagonist continued in a convincing way, staying true to his character established in previous novels?

A writer doesn’t have to be preachy to create a story that communicates something worth knowing about the human condition. As Julian Barnes commented:

“Books say: she did this because. Life says: she did this. Books are where things are explained to you, life where things aren’t.”

I like to think that once somebody has read one of my Cornish Detective novels, they might start thinking in a slightly different way about a contentious subject, such as illegal immigration and slavery. This was one component of Book 1, Who Kills A Nudist? with the antagonist, a criminal who was part of a worldwide network of human traffickers, treating people as goods—like the drugs and weapons he also smuggled.

The KISS principle of Keep It Simple, Stupid should apply to the underlying theme of a story, with your skill as a writer providing the artifice that enchants a reader into losing themselves in your words. But, it still has to ring true. As 20th-century best-selling novelist Margaret Culkin Banning advised:

“Fiction is not a dream. Nor is it guess work. It is imagining based on facts, and the facts must be accurate or the work will not stand up.”

I’ve given up on reading many a crime novel that was riddled with inaccuracies, depressed not just by the author’s laziness, but also at the slapdash inefficiency of whoever edited the manuscript at the publishers. Once upon a time, editors checked facts: they don’t seem to bother these days. At least these travesties motivate me into getting my facts right—while avoiding an information dump. I look upon such details as the interesting smells that makes a dog pause on its walkies—there to be briefly savoured—but not completely halting the journey.

With my last novel, the plot involves theft, forgery, artistic creativity, prostitution, bereavement, falling in love and murder, but the simple theme is that relationships are more important than money or possessions.

What are the themes of your work in progress?

Reading

My Favourite Reads of 2018

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

Now is the time of year when newspapers and websites are full of lists detailing critics and authors’ best books of the previous twelve months.

I gave my favourite reads of 2017, so I’ll continue the tradition with my baker’s dozen (or so) of favourite reads.

Not all of my choices were published this year, and there are several novels that are part of a long series, including a couple that are sequels or prequels to successful stories.

1) Lamentation by C. J. Sansom. The sixth story in the Matthew Shardlake series.

I can’t praise these books enough. Even if you don’t normally read historical fiction, you’d like them, as they hook the reader in. I prefer Sansom’s handling of the Tudor period to that of Hilary Mantel, as he has more warmth in his writing and conveys the fears of ordinary citizens better. A new story in the series was published in October, called Tombland.

2) Robicheaux by James Lee Burke. I’ve read all of the Dave Robicheaux series, and this is the twenty-first story. Burke is a writing heavyweight whose technique is something to aspire to. He gives a strong sense of place, tying historical events into contemporary attitudes with great characterisation.

3) All That Remains: A Life In Death by Professor Sue Black.

A humbling read from a Professor of Anatomy and Forensic Anthropology, who literally knows death inside out. Not as macabre as you might think, with unexpected moments of humour, her memoir is gripping and full of wisdom.

4) Norwegian By Night & its sequel American By Day by Derek B. Miller.

An unexpected pleasure. I’d read favourable reviews, but Miller’s unusual approach to crime writing gave me food for thought, as he goes off at tangents, making his stories as much character portrayals as they are entertaining and involving mysteries.

5) Underground Airlines by Ben H. Winters.

I normally steer clear of alternate histories, but I liked the blurb on the cover of this novel that I picked up in the library. I was soon gripped, as the author’s premise of a continuing form of slavery was believable and there were plenty of ‘what-would-you-do?’ thrills. Good characterisation and an effective condemnation of corporate America. I preferred it to Colson Whitehead’s highly-praised The Underground Railroad.

6) The Last Painting Of Sara De Vos by Dominic Smith.

I read this novel as part of my research into the world of art and forgery, for my latest Cornish Detective novel is set in the art colony of Saint Ives. I was captivated by the masterful writing and how the author wove two time periods into the narrative. Smith has a lightness of touch using arresting imagery that makes you think deeply about creativity and possession of the finished product.

7) The Rules Of Magic by Alice Hoffman.

A prequel to Practical Magic Hoffman’s most successful novel, and adapted into a Hollywood movie. The author weaves her spell in an entrancing way, making the reader believe that witchcraft has a place in contemporary society. Deft handling of intimate moments makes you feel a part of the story.

8) Sapiens: A Brief History Of Mankind by Yuval Noah Harari.

This book appeared on so many listicles, that it almost put me off reading it. I’m glad that I did, for it’s a mind-expanding challenge. The author makes some rather woolly assertions, which made me wonder if he was being deliberately provocative, as surely so and so was more likely….Damn it, he made me think!

9) French Exit by Patrick deWitt.

After enjoying The Sisters Brothers, which was an offbeat Western, I wondered how the author would handle a modern setting. The plotting is off kilter, making you wonder what’s going to happen next…almost as if deWitt is throwing a dice to decide the action. The mother and son protagonists are not people you’d want to get too close to, as you’d be safer observing them at a distance. Gloriously and madly self-destructive, they stick in the memory. Oh, and there’s also a bonkers cat character called Small Frank who’s the reincarnation of the mother’s dead husband! A fun read.

10) Pendulum by Adam Hamdy.

You know how we’re advised to start our story with a hook, and that it’s wise to have a moment of tension or a question at the end of each chapter, that compels the reader to turn the page? Well, try reading Adam Hamdy’s third novel, which does just this really well. His hero is quite the most resistant to injury character I’ve encountered, but the plot is thrilling and the tension never quits.

11) Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout.

Powerful storytelling with a strong sense of place in a claustrophobic coastal community in Maine. Sure to divide sympathies, the main character Olive is a force of nature. Lots of truth about what it means to be human, so not always an easy read.

12) The Narrow Road To The Deep North by Richard Flanagan.

I was drawn to read this novel, after watching a BBC documentary on Flanagan in which he discussed the writing of it. He’s a personable chap, with his feet firmly on the ground and not one to bullshit about the mysteries of his craft. His novel is also fluff-free and though a harrowing read is life-affirming.

13) Walter Mosley…

This year, I read his Rose Gold, Known To Evil, When The Thrill Is Gone, Down The River Unto The Sea, And Sometimes I Wonder About You and And All I Did Was Shoot My Man.

Not only does he come up with brilliant titles, but his plotting is serpentine and engrossing. Mosley is great at thumbnail sketches of incidental characters, and inserting his MC’s internal dialogue into the action. Even if you don’t like crime novels, his are worth a look to see how he makes everything look so easy.

If you’re new to writing and looking for an advice book, I recommend his This Year You Write Your Novel

It’s a short book, but full of comforting and common sense tips.

What books have you enjoyed reading this year? They don’t have to be recent—old favourites that you’ve revisited will do.

Reading

It’s My Book…Get Off!

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

This charming anecdote about how a six-year-old reader jealously guarded his favourite book, made me wonder which stories are intensely personal to me.

I recall the wondrous possibilities of reading, discovered as a youngster…how a book could become a portal to another world, making me a traveller in time and space; books became friends.

The book that I’ve re-read the most, and which I feel bonded to, is The Wind In The Willows by Kenneth Grahame…ideally with illustrations by Ernest H. Shepherd. It’s classified as a children’s book, but has universal themes of the importance of home and loyalty to friends and the natural world, as well as being prescient about what happens when those principles are abandoned—as shown by the current state of politics, mass extinction of species and global warming.

For modern books, I feel like a champion of a crime novel I read in 2017, which I chose as one of my favourite books of the year. The Ploughmen is a debut novel by Kim Zupan and deserves to be widely-known. Had I the funds, I’d buy the rights and turn it into a film, and the two-hander structure of the plot would be ideal for an up-and-coming actor to prove his skills, as well as revitalising the career of an established but overlooked actor…in the same way as Quentin Tarantino turned the spotlight back onto Pam Grier and Robert Forster with Jackie Brown.

In this way, I’m the opposite of the six-year-old reader, as I want more people to know about one of my favourite books.

What is your go-to story, your eternal favourite?

Which neglected title do you think deserves to be widely known?

Reading

My Favourite Reads of 2017

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

Now is the time of year when the media publish ‘Best Of’ lists for a variety of categories, including books, television series, music albums and films, so I thought that I’d join in with a baker’s dozen of favourite reads from 2017. Some were published this year, and all came out recently, so should be readily available.

1) A Man Called Ove, by Fredrik Backman:

It made me laugh and it made me cry. A brilliant portrayal of a grumpy old man, a stickler for petty rules and regulations, who’d be a nightmare to know on brief acquaintance. But, he has a heart of gold concealed within his leaden exterior and is blessed with the love of a good woman.

2) Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders:

Worthy of all the attention it’s received, as much for the unusual way the story is laid out, with scattered thoughts from the spirits of the dead who haven’t quite passed over, but who exist in a state of limbo or ‘bardo’. Some are more aware of their condition than others, and the most confused is Abraham Lincoln’s son Willie who’s just died of typhoid fever in the second year of the Civil War. He’s further unsettled by his father visiting the crypt to hold his corpse, as part of his mourning.

Not an easy read, and if you try, I recommend doing so in at least 20-30 page chunks, to get a sense of who all of the dead spirits are; it’s a very moving experience—horrific, contemplative and loving.

3) The Sixteen Trees of the Somme, by Lars Mytting:

The best novel that I read this year or for many a year. A stunning achievement and just what a novel should be, for it involves the reader in a deep-seated mystery as the naive protagonist tries to unravel a tight knot that hides family identity, wealth, betrayal and who he really is and who he wants to be. Travelling between Norway, the Shetland Isles and the battlefields of northern France, it’s sure to be turned into a film.

4) Do No Harm: Stories of Life, Death and Brain Surgery, by Henry Marsh:

If you want to know what it feels like to be a brain surgeon, this is the book to read. I was immediately in awe of Henry Marsh, and it’s one of the most humbling memoirs I’ve read. Truly terrifying too, it will make you count your blessings. I’m on the waiting list at my local library for the sequel, Admissions: Life as a Brain Surgeon.

5) The Dry, by Jane Harper:

A highly-praised debut crime novel by a British author, who does a fine job of making the reader feel the heat, claustrophobia and paranoia of an isolated community in the Australian Outback where the murder of a family makes everyone a suspect.

6) The Force, by Don Winslow:

Winslow is without equal when it comes to writing tense crime novels involving the drug trade and the inevitable violent betrayals, paranoia, self-loathing and multiple murders. His The Power of the Dog and The Cartel, about the Mexican drug wars must have the highest body counts of any novels. In The Force, a corrupt detective who’s been taking dirty money and operating as part of an unofficial police unit within the NYPD finally gets his comeuppance. He’s a totally believable flawed hero, compromised by many ‘well-what-would-you-do’ situations.

7) H is for Hawk, by Helen Macdonald:

Grieving the unexpected death of her father, the author returns to an early love of falconry, by raising a goshawk. Her road to recovery is involving, tearing at your heart as you will her on. Macdonald writes brilliantly about wildlife, the weather and the landscape. I found it captivating.

8) Since We Fell, by Dennis Lehane:

One of the best thrillers that Dennis Lehane has ever written, and that’s saying something when you remember Mystic River and Shutter Island. The plot has more twists and turns than an epileptic snake, carrying the reader along in a state of excited confusion.

9) Golden Hill, by Francis Spufford:

A rollicking good read, that deserves all of the praise and awards it’s received. Spufford knows his stuff historically, and he pens a believable world in 18th-century New York, where things turn frighteningly violent very quickly. I’m eager to read the sequel.

10) The Heavenly Table, by Donald Ray Pollock:

This absorbing novel will probably get lost by being shelved among Westerns in bookshops and libraries, and though it’s set on horseback, the three gormless heroes have adventures that say much about human foibles. It’s lewd and crude in places, but very entertaining.

11) The Ploughmen, by Kim Zupan:

An unusual crime novel, which was unjustly overlooked, and, I fear, will remain a neglected treasure. I only noticed it, as it was the last book shelved in the novel section of my local library! A debut novel by a mature writer, it tells of a strange friendship between an implacable, imprisoned serial killer, a complete psychopath, and a gullible young deputy, who finds missing people in the Montana snow—usually dead. Zupan rivals Helen Macdonald for his descriptions of landscape, and you’ll soon be feeling cold. It’s one of the most memorable stories I’ve read.

12) All Involved, by Ryan Gattis:

I wasn’t sure that I’d enjoy this tale set in the days of the riots in Los Angeles in 1992, mainly as the author had previously written quirky titles for young readers. However, I was swiftly gripped by the dilemmas faced by a dozen different characters, including coppers, drug dealers, store owners, nurses and the homeless. Some scenes were real edge-of-the-seat stuff—and I mean real—much scarier than any imagined dystopian worlds.

13) The Museum of Extraordinary Things, by Alice Hoffman:

The reader is transported to New York in the early 20th-century, where the protagonist works as a mermaid in her father’s museum of freaks, among such as the Wolfman, the Butterfly Girl and a century-old turtle. She meets a handsome Russian immigrant photographer, who has left the confines of his Jewish community to concentrate on his career. When he photographs a tragic factory fire, he gets embroiled in the case of a missing girl and dark forces hunt the two youngsters. Hoffman is superb at summoning up the atmosphere of the streets, river and surrounding countryside of a young city. Best-known for Practical Magic, which was turned into a film, and to which she’s recently published a prequel called The Rules of Magic, Hoffman’s Museum of Extraordinary Things is sure to be filmed too as it’s equally spellbinding.

What books have you enjoyed reading this year? They don’t have to be recent—old favourites that you’ve revisited will do.

Editing, Writing

Tackling Editing

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

In an interview that originally appeared in the Guardian, George Saunders, author of Lincoln In The Bardo explains how he edits his writing.

With the experimental form of Lincoln In The Bardo I imagine that he did hundreds of rewrites of its 340 pages; to give you some idea of the complexity of the narrative, the audiobook version uses 166 readers—including Hollywood stars Julianne Moore, Ben Stiller, Lena Dunham and Don Cheadle.

I like what Saunders says about respecting the reader. Saunders uses a computer to write his manuscripts, which must have made things easier with his successful novel:

“I write in Word. I loved WordPerfect, but then the Word juggernaut rolled right over the poor little guy. This computer is given to me by my university and the default word-processing program is Word – so there you go. The only thing I ever write longhand anymore are notebook entries. And even then I usually end up typing them into a file. I have really horrible handwriting. I print out every day so there’s no danger of losing anything. And lots of times, in retrospect, it might have been better if I had lost something.”

These days, with the ease of altering a manuscript that a computer gives us, I sometimes wonder about what the definition of a new draft really is….

In the old laborious days of writing everything in longhand, and even in the less flexible method of using a typewriter, different drafts were readily distinguishable by their altered layout. On my laptop, I can change the order events happen in a chapter with three section breaks in seconds—does that make it a new draft? Or, does a draft only exist when someone else, someone important like a literary agent or an editor, claps their eyes on it? Up until then, your story is a tree falling in the forest that no one hears.

With my last novel, I’ve tried a different way of editing, by staying in one or two chapters for several days. This has permitted me to finesse the descriptions while worrying that such tinkering around may be gilding the lily. I like this way of working, in that it’s encouraged me to consider the frame of mind of my characters at that particular moment, which might make their future behaviour more believable.

How do you edit….is it a daily chore, or weekly?

Do you do regular trawls through all you’ve written so far, perhaps using the Word Search function to find repeated words?

Are you content to leave the editing until you’ve completed the writing? I did that with my first novel, which admittedly was way too long at 179,000 words, and spent five months chipping barnacles off the hull of the monstrous leviathan I’d created. This woeful experience motivated me into doing regular editing of the WIP.

Are you fortunate enough to have a trusted reader, who offers helpful suggestions?

Writing

Notes, Appendix, Footnotes, Glossary & Hyperlinks

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

In writing a fictional story, there are various ways of imparting extra information without adding bulk to the narrative. Some subjects depend on facts more than others, such as a historical novel or a forensic crime thriller.

Traditional printed novels have long used supplementary methods of aiding the reader’s understanding of what’s going on, by the use of footnotes or having a glossary, appendix or notes in the back of the book. These days, ebooks can use hyperlinks. This caused me some confusion when writing my first Cornish Detective novel.

I learnt most of what I know about formatting from Mark Coker, founder of Smashwords, who is a big fan of using hyperlinks, both to aid navigation around the book and to add value to the reading experience.

The problem with hyperlinks in a novel is that they look horrid on the page, and encouraging the reader to drift away from your book, to follow a link on the internet, is unwise. I have a hyperlinked version of my first manuscript, and it looks like someone has attacked it with a highlighter pen! Increasingly, I’m thinking that using numbered notes would be less intrusive.

As I understand it, these are the definitions of the different terms for ways of adding facts to fiction:

*Notes: a comment or instruction at the back of the book, linked by a number in the text.

*Appendix: supplementary material that is collected and appended at the back of a book.

*Footnote: a printed note placed below the text on a printed page

*Glossary: an alphabetical list of technical terms in some specialized field of knowledge; usually published as an appendix to a text on that field.

*Hyperlink: a link from a hypertext file to another location or file; typically activated by clicking on a highlighted word or icon at a particular location on the screen.

Andrea Camilleri uses notes in his Inspector Montalbano crime novels, set on Sicily. These are often about the food that his gourmand protagonist eats, which always makes me hungry for pasta! I’ve recently been reading another Italian crime series, written by Marco Vichi, in which Inspector Bordelli solves crimes in Florence during the 1960s and 1970s. Like Camilleri, Vichi details the ingredients of meals his main character eats. He’s a veteran of WW2, a partisan who fought the Nazis, so some of the notes explain such things as political affiliations back then, as well as battles and the many superstitions of religious Italians.

As an example, for the text “How long had it been since he had gone to Soffiano to visit his mother’s grave? He always sought to avoid going on the second of November.¹Any other day was fine,” the explanatory note printed at the end of the story is, “1—2 November is ‘il giorno dei morti’, ‘the day of the dead’, when families throng to the cemeteries to visit their lost loved ones.” This is a neater way of explaining something, than doing so in the narrative. The reader can look to find the meaning, if they choose, or ignore the link.

Many genres of fiction don’t need extra information, other than what the story is telling the reader. It’s unlikely that romance, erotica, ghost stories, Western yarns or fantasy tales would feel the need to expand their readers’ knowledge. Modern day literature eschews notes, though reprints of classic novels often add them—to explain the historical context. Similarly, translations of foreign novels will include helpful information.

Series of stories sometimes cry out for footnotes or endnotes. I’ve read several of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, which have humorous footnotes.

Do any of you use hyperlinks in your eBooks?

Have you added footnotes or endnotes?

If you write historical novels or technology-based stories, do you include an appendix or a glossary?

As a reader, do you check the facts that the writer directs you to—or ignore them?

Writing

Caveman Mind

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

I sometimes reflect on what it means to be a writer in the 21st-century. In modern society, it’s a more tenuous and less respected role than it once was: going back a mere thirty years, authors were valued more.

Today, anyone can spout forth their thoughts online, in a mutating variety of formats, from the trivial and fleeting to major pronouncements that take years to create and read—I recently came across a series of self-published science-fiction novels, each of which is 250,000 words long.

It’s easy to get disheartened, but when my spirits are flagging, I take heart that I’m a member of one of the oldest professions. It’s long been said that prostitution is the oldest profession…which rather implies to me, that pimping is the second oldest. Whimsy aside, telling tales to cheer people up around a fire or in a darkened cave or up a tree, trying to keep safe from predators, is one of the oldest ways of making a living. Once upon a prehistoric time, we storytellers were the equivalent of television or the internet.

This realisation made me wonder what other praiseworthy jobs can trace their origins back to the early days of man. Artists, be they painters of cave walls, actors or singers would be esteemed for their entertainment skills—making their tribe recall epic hunts of prey or fierce battles with rivals. Healers would have an honoured place in prehistoric society, as well as being looked upon with suspicion. Shamans would mutate into religious leaders, at some point, trying to explain the inexplicable as being the work of a divine god: as Mark Twain said, “Religion was invented when the first con man met the first fool.“

Someone in the cave would be nifty with a bone needle and sinew thread, turning tanned animal skins into garments and footwear—becoming the first fashion designer. Hunters and gatherers would keep their people alive, with one activity being seen as male and honourable, while the other was relegated to females and part of their duties—hence, sexism was originated!

Personally, I think that the first interior designer would have been welcomed with open arms. Whoever invented shelves, finding a way to attach them to the cave wall, was a precursor of civilisation, eventually spawning legions of home improvement programmes on television.

Amongst all of these jobs, the storyteller was always highly regarded, turned to when something needed explaining in an entertaining and wise way.

We’re still around, and even with all of the distractions of contemporary living, we have something to say to people about the state of society, of what it means to be human.

Our words have value, so we should keep on keeping on writing them.

Of course, we don’t know it all…but there are always editors around who think that they do. The thing is, which caveman became the first literary agent?!

Do you feel connected to a literary thread that passes through time?

How do you cheer yourself up when doubt swoops in?

Is there any era in which you’d like to have been an author? Perhaps as a contemporary of Jane Austen or a drinking buddy of Ernest Hemingway.

Writing

What Websites Do Your Characters Visit?

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

I previously posted a thread about What Books Do Your Characters Read? But it occurred to me, that seeing how we live much of our lives online these days, a character’s browsing history would tell a lot about them.

For instance, someone who regularly looked at satirical sites, such as Private Eye or The Onion would be markedly different to someone devoted to Drudge Report or Breitbart News Network. It would be a quick way of portraying their stance on a whole range of issues.

For something that’s so commonplace an event, surfing the web for pleasure rarely occurs in contemporary fiction, unless the plot hinges on it, of course. In my last Cornish Detective novel, my titular protagonist relies on an array of experts to assist him investigate cases involving local history, seagulls, the art market, embalming, sea currents and trawlers. His hobbies include painting, music and wildlife gardening—which I refer to, as they’re forms of meditation for him, sometimes opening up ideas about his current murder investigation.

He’s just unearthed an ancient ring in his garden while trying to dig an old tree stump out. It’s 600 years old, and he goes online to find out more about medieval jewellery…which browsing will lead him back to the case he’s trying to crack when he suddenly realises the significance of a clue that’s been staring him in the face for weeks.

I’ve had detectives on his team check facts while out in the field, using their smartphones, sometimes referring to Google Earth to get the lay of the land, when staking out a suspect’s house. One investigation required the monitoring of tracking devices that are legally fitted to ships, for reasons of safety, following them online. In the same investigation, an informer had his iPhone fitted with software that turned it into a listening device so the cops could hear him talking to his villain of a boss, via the FlexiSpy website.

No longer do stool pigeons need to be fitted with bulky microphones, tape recorders and battery packs taped to their torsos—yet an astonishing amount of modern crime novels still use this obsolete technology—the author not having done their research.

One of the irritating things about crime fiction is how many detectives and private eyes are portrayed as being inept at using computers—relying on a subordinate officer or a geeky friend to winkle out information for them. Granted, finding a solution online isn’t as exciting as the copper confronting a tough guy in a seedy bar, but it’s more efficient! I’m sure that many crime writers set their stories in olden times, to simplify the writing, as technology is a rotting albatross around the neck.

I don’t recall characters web surfing in any of the science fiction I’ve read. Does it happen?

Presumably, romance/erotica stories feature web browsing a lot, as the protagonist searches for a partner—with attendant emailing.

Do your fictional characters visit real or made-up sites as part of the life you create for them?

What about the web surfing of astronauts? Best not think about what excites Klingons or the Borg!

Has anyone written a story that hinges on their characters being addicted to social media?

Writing

Last Lines

20/04/2019 Paul Leave a comment

It’s drummed into writers, the importance of having a strong opening to their story. Whole books have been written emphasising how crucial the first few lines, paragraphs and pages are, to grab the attention of readers.

But, what of the closing lines, the end of a story, where an author makes a statement of some kind, even if it’s through the thoughts of their protagonist? I reckon that last lines carry more weight as memorable quotes than opening statements.

Looking at famous books, these endings are variously doom-laden and optimistic.

* From The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest by Stieg Larsson:

She opened the door wide and let him into her life again.

* From Oh What a Paradise It Seems by John Cheever:

But that is another tale, and as I said in the beginning, this is just a story meant to be read in bed in an old house on a rainy night.

* From Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell:

Tomorrow, I’ll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.

* From Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling:

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

* From Frankenstein by Mary Shelley:

He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance.

* From The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger:

It’s funny. Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

* From Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell:

He loved Big Brother.

* From The Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad:

The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky – seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.

* From Animal Farm, by George Orwell:

The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.

I think that there’s a difference between the last lines of a standalone novel and a story that’s part of a series. With a one-off, an author can close the proceedings with a message that encapsulates the themes of the tale they’ve told in a take that way! An optimistic writer who’s embarking on creating a series may well allude to the frame of mind of their protagonist, setting them up for more adventures.

In every end, there’s a beginning.

In my own Cornish Detective series, I always close with my protagonist Neil Kettle alone and contemplating life—in a way that I hope encourages readers to want to find out what happens to him next.

* Book 1: Who Kills A Nudist?: Neil gazed at the departing jet in the distance, its exhaust condensing in the atmosphere. She'd slipped the reminder into his pocket when she pecked him a kiss. Write her? Why not?

He was starting to believe in happy endings.

* Book 2: The Perfect Murderer: As the Chinese saying went, 'Enjoy yourself. It's later than you think.' It was time for him to be where he was again, to inhabit himself once more—he'd been missing his own life.

* Book 3: An Elegant Murder: In a few minutes, Neil was letting himself into the front door, walking through his half-finished home to go and feed a solitary cat who would ignore him. What else did a man need?

He couldn't be happier

* Book 4: Sin Killers: He'd be OK. The sentimentality of the season was getting to him. At a time when we were expected to be loving and loved in return, he felt the lack. Criminals didn't care about his sorrow, and there were new cases to run, but they'd keep for tomorrow.

Lone as a mountain lion, he went off through the bulleting rain back to his moorland lair.

Book 5: The Dead Need Nobody: He'd got his hands full with her in more ways than one. Her slim fingers reminded him that he had an ancient sapphire ring that needed a new home.

The inscription Si vis amari, ama floated into view.

If you want to be loved, love.

What else could he do?

I think that it's important to come up with a stylish ending to a story, that's taken you ages to write, rather than have it come to an abrupt stop!

Do you have any favourite famous last lines from literature?

What about your own?

.

Paul Pens

Monthly Archives: April 2019

Bad Reviews

KISS: Your Story’s Themes

My Favourite Reads of 2018

It’s My Book…Get Off!

My Favourite Reads of 2017

Tackling Editing

Notes, Appendix, Footnotes, Glossary & Hyperlinks

Caveman Mind

What Websites Do Your Characters Visit?

Last Lines

Real Write, Real Edit, Real Publish