All posts by Paul

I am a self-employed writer, which means I’m working for an idiot who doesn’t pay me enough – but the holidays are great. I’m ex many occupations, from the respectable ‘career-ladder’ to disreputable “somebody’s- got-to-do-it”. All a good way of seeing someone else’s point-of-view. Best job, apart from writing, was dispatch-riding on a motorcycle in the 70s, though I’ve also enjoyed teaching, librarianship, counselling and helping to run a community-centre. Sometimes I’ve looked respectable in a suit, other times a bit more wild and woolly (though still stylish) as a biker. It’s strange how differently people treat you, depending on what you’re wearing. A suit means I’m sometimes addressed as ‘sir’, but in motorcycle leathers I’m always referred to as ‘mate.’ The worst job that I’ve done ? You really don’t want to know, but it was in a processed food manufacturer’s factory – put me off bacon, sausages and quiches for a long time, and made me look at pet food in a new way. I’m very glad that I don’t have any pictures. I’ve been writing since I was eight, when I penned a story about a desert island and attempted to compile a dictionary – as Clarissa does in my short story ‘The Moon Is Out Tonight’. I’ve written for magazines under a variety of pen-names, ghost-written a couple of biographies and had a column in a local newspaper. I used to concentrate on non-fiction of an informative, how-to instructional nature, as I’m a firm believer in the dissemination of knowledge to enable people to do things for themselves. Knowledge is power, and in these troubled times of economic downturn and increased intrusion into our lives by government agencies, its vital to know how to get through. My fictional stories also show people coping and finding ways to survive. I’m based in a Celtic nation, the county of Cornwall or Kernow. I’ve been here for twenty years, and have lived all over the country, as well as abroad in France, Germany, Switzerland, Spain and the U.S.A.

Trapped by Genre?

I’ve long wondered what would happen to my writing career if any success I had trapped me in a genre. By that, I mean, what if the short ghost stories I’ve written took off in the public conscious and my literary agent and publisher pressured me for more—even though I wanted to concentrate on my Cornish Detective novels?

It would make sense to do so, as a recent report by data analysts Nielsen Bookscan found that crime and thriller novel sales rose by 19% between 2015 and 2017.

Despite this, it feels like authors are treated like circus animals, expected to do a limited repertoire of tricks. As an example, one of my favourite authors, John Connolly recently published an imagined biography of comedian Stan Laurel, called ‘he’.

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I loved it, but sales were average, for Connolly is famed for his private investigator novels which feature supernatural elements. He’s also published a couple of collections of short stories that step outside the crime genre, as well as a lovely novel The Book of Lost Things that reinterprets fairy tales.

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I wondered how much arm-twisting he had to do to be allowed to write something different. I loved them, but again, sales were average.

Indian author Kiran Manral unwittingly pigeonholed herself, for her first novel was called The Reluctant Detective, so there was opposition to her subsequent work not fitting the crime genre.

We’re all librarians at heart, with the world organised by categories so that we can find stuff. At the very least, books need to be shelved, so where do they go? Are they Chick Lit, Science-Fiction, Historical or Erotica—and heaven help you if you’ve written a genre-busting novel that straddles all of these!

Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes said:Don’t classify me, read me. I’m a writer, not a genre. But that doesn’t take into account the tactics of book publisher publicity departments trying to market a book.

Writing under a pen name is one way around this problem, with the pseudonym disguising that a beloved author of fantasy novels about a wizard is now penning crime novels

Agatha Christie wrote six romance novels using the pen name Mary Westmacott. Benjamin Franklin, American polymath and one of the Founding Fathers of the United States, conned a newspaper publisher into printing a series of charming letters seemingly penned by a middle-aged widow named Silence Dogood .

Michael Crichton was already published under his own name when he started churning out stories by John Lange, Jeffery Hudson and Michael Douglas. Stephen King was initially held back by his publisher’s policy of only releasing one title a year, so he persuaded them to print some of his stories under the pseudonym of Richard Bachman. Dean Koontz had a similar problem with his publisher and has used at least ten pseudonyms.

As a comment on this situation, one of the recurring characters in my Cornish Detective series, a crusty male newspaper journalist called Brian ‘Hot’ Toddy writes flowery romances under the pen name of Violet Flowerdew.

It’s fun to imagine well-known authors attempting to write in another genre. Think what a historical romance written by Lee Child would read like—would it ring with echoes of his Jack Reacher thrillers? How about a political thriller written by E.L. James?

Do you ever pause to wonder if you’ve placed your eggs in the wrong basket?

Writers’ Strange Names

While reading newsletters from publishing sites and authors’ blogs this morning, it struck me how peculiar some writers’ names are.

Even the most famous of authors haven’t seen their names passed on into common usage. Have you ever met anyone called Bram (Stoker), Hunter (S. Thomson) or Ayn (Rand)?

Other old-fashioned names are seeing a resurgence in popularity. Apparently, Willa (Cather) and Anaïs (Nin) are increasingly common for girls…the latter without the correct diaeresis over the letter i.

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Willa Cather

Oscar (Wilde) is chosen for boys these days—perhaps as a sign of people being more comfortable with different sexualities—or indicative of a rise in ‘stage mums’ wishing to propel their son into the Hollywood film industry!

I’ve never known a Kingsley (Amis), Ogden (Nash), Danielle (Steel), Dashiell (Hammett), Ambrose (Bierce) or Harriet (Beecher Stowe), though these were more common in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

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Dashiell Hammett

Some writers are known by the initials of their forenames or they add initials to their moniker to make themselves sound distinctive. J. K. Rowling is the best-known modern example, though that was subterfuge on the part of her publisher to conceal that she was female, as it was thought that boy readers wouldn’t take to a story about wizards written by a woman. This sort of marketing deceit is referred to as ‘gender neutral’. I noticed that saying J.K. quickly sounds like “Jake” which adds to the deception, though the J comes from her first name of Joanne, and, as she doesn’t have a middle name, she chose K in memory of her paternal grandmother Kathleen. She likes to be known as Jo. I wonder how many books she’d have sold as Joanne Rowling or Jo Rowling…or would word of mouth praise have carried her books to bestseller status anyway?

Other authors who added initials to their names include Ian M. Banks…he added the M for his sci-fi books and it came from his intended middle name of Menzies. The reinventor of the Doctor Who series screenwriter Russell T. Davies added the T to distinguish himself from a newsreader of the same name.

If you choose to go this way with your author’s name, then how you punctuate your initials can cause repercussions.

Pen names are common among writers. I started out calling myself Augustus Devilheart, but came out of hiding to be just me. I have a middle name—John—which I never use, though official databases list it.

All the unusual names I’ve encountered with authors, made me wonder what strange name I could add to Paul Whybrow. I was born in a cottage in Walkern Road, Stevenage, Hertfordshire. Walkern is a village three miles from Stevenage. Thus, I could become Paul Walkern Whybrow. I don’t know if that makes me sound distinguished or archaic! It makes me think of a Wyvern, which is a two-legged dragon so I could use Wyvern to distinguish any fantasy writing I may do.

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Do you use your initials in your writer’s name?

Do you have a pen name?

Is your name unusual enough to be a marketing aid?

What made-up middle name would you add to your identity as an author?

Everybody Loves Me, Baby!

I spent the first two weeks of 2019 lost in the intricacies of re-editing the first novel I wrote. Using the Word Search function to track down multiple uses of ‘this’, ‘thought’ and ‘realised’ feels less like writing and more like looking for a needle in a haystack.

I’ve edited The Perfect Murderer countless times before and it’s all been at this nit-picking level. It’s hard to appreciate how I’ve improved the manuscript, but I know this tedious work needs to be done. I went to bed most nights feeling disenchanted. I relaxed by reading before turning the light out. With three novels on the go, I gave up on one where the author repeatedly used the same verbs, adjectives and adverbs. I groaned when I saw he’d written the word ‘little’ four times in two pages. Did anyone at his publisher edit this?

I contemplated returning to editing my manuscript, confident that my book will be a damned sight better prepared than a well-reviewed published novel!

It’s easy to become disheartened as a writer, and I’ve previously posted about the doubt that afflicts us and the resilience we need to get through.

After I completed editing, I returned to the querying and self-promotion trail, which I’m not really enjoying…but, there’s no choice.

I’ve decided to adopt a fresh attitude to my endeavours, inspired by the tongue-in-cheek lyrics of an old Don McLean song, which was the earworm I woke up with this morning. Instead of nervously seeking validation for my writing and trying to be an interesting chap through blogging and social media posting, I’ll be viewing myself as totally irresistible!

I don’t know if this will work, but why worry, when I can be happy?

What do you think?

Which Author Would You Be?

Woody Allen said that: My One Regret In Life Is That I Am Not Someone Else.” 

Assuming reincarnation and time travel are possible, which author would you come back as?

They can be dead or still alive…and feel free to change gender, nationality, sexual orientation, religion, etc.

This fantasy question is rather different to being asked which authors you’d have to dinner. For instance, when I think of my writing heroes, irrespective of their talent, some of them had unhappy lives. I might still risk it, as I’d be fascinated to see how their creative process worked.

My choices would be:

Of the dead

* Rumi: the Persian poet, revered for his love poetry. I wonder what his love life was like. He had a decent innings surviving until the age of 66…impressive for the 13th-century.

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* Guy de Maupassant: A great short story writer, who rubbed shoulders with such luminaries as Alexandre Dumas, Gustav Flaubert, Ivan Turgenev and Émile Zola. Sadly, his own story was short, for he died of VD in an asylum at the age of 42.

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* Richard Brautigan: A writer of bizarre comedic stories, a real maverick, but dead by his own hand at the age of 49, his body not found for a month.

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Perhaps I should change gender. French writers Anaïs Nin and Colette led fascinating and erotic lives, surviving until the ages of 73 & 81.

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Among the Living

Shape-shifting into the careers of living authors would be interesting. I note that all the writers I’ve chosen have retained the common touch, not abandoning their humble roots.

* Larry McMurtry: his output is impressive, with his books adapted into respectful movies and television series. Lonesome Dove is a great Western. He’s a used book-store owner & cat lover.

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* Dennis Lehane: brilliant novels that win awards and are turned into decent films, which is something of a miracle. Also wrote episodes of The Wire.

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* James Lee Burke: an illustrious writing career, and he’s still actively publishing in his 80s. I like how he stays true to his characters, writing series of novels about them. Daughter Alafair is also a best-selling crime author.

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* Alice Hoffman: my favourite author of Magical Realism, which she inserts seamlessly into her tales of characters struggling against the odds. Great at showing how what someone considers to be magic provides them with the courage to endure.

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Who would you be? One of the Brontës? Charles Dickens? William Shakespeare?

Or someone contemporary and still living, such as Hilary Mantel, Margaret Atwood or Paul Auster?

Just think of the fun you could have getting these famous authors to write something radically different!

Ursula K. Le Guin: My Job

Written three years before her death at the age of 88, Ursula K. Le Guin contemplates her life as a writer.

My Job

Since keeping house and raising kids

don’t count as jobs, I only ever had one.

I started out as a prentice

at five years old, and at near eighty-five

in most ways I am still one,

being a slow learner. And the work

is quite demanding.

The boss who drives the shiny yellow car

and those nine sisters up there by the spring

are tough, but fair. There’s times

you can’t get them to listen,

but they’ve always got their eyes on you.

They don’t let botched work pass.

Sometimes the pay is terrible.

Sometimes it’s only fairy gold.

Then again sometimes the wages

are beyond imagination and desire.

I am glad to have worked for this company.

Ursula K. Le Guin

(from Late In The Day: Poems 2010-2014)

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Fanciable Publishers

Assuming that you’re chasing a publishing deal, having netted a slippery literary agent, which book company do you favour?

Publishing is dominated by the Big 5: Hachette, Holtzbrinck Publishing Group/Macmillan, Penguin Random House, HarperCollins and Simon & Schuster. These companies publish 60% of English language books. Each is part of a parent company, a conglomerate with other interests. For example, Penguin Random House is 75% owned by Bertelsmann, a German multinational corporation that offers not only books but also television, radio, music, magazines and business services.Such reach looks appealing to an author trying to place their book, for it might lead to a television series or film adaptation.

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But what if your title falls through the cracks, not getting the attention and promotion it deserves from one of their many staff? If your book performs poorly, compared to other authors, it’ll be shuffled aside. I’ve looked at Big 5 websites, feeling lost in the maze of books they handle, and the army of authors whose profiles appear with headshots, as I attempt to work out who at the company actually represents their interests.

I’d rather sign with a small publisher, who offered one-on-one support. As a tiny cog in a massive corporation, I’d be dispensable, but as one of a roster of 100 authors at an indie publisher personal relationships would flourish.

It’s worth remembering, that in recent years, independent publishers have done well in gaining their clients publicity by being shortlisted and longlisted for literary prizes. One of the problems for a small publisher is the entry fee charged by the prestigious Booker Prize, the Bailey’s prize for women’s fiction and the Costa books of the year, which edges them out.

This tactic hasn’t stopped small presses winning awards, and there are also awards aimed solely at books published by indies.

It’s noteworthy, that smaller book companies are more prepared to take a risk on unusual projects and ‘difficult’ authors. The same thing can be said of small, recently-founded literary agencies. I’ve made 650 queries since 2104, receiving personalised replies from just four agencies, saying why they were rejecting my submission—all of them were small agencies.

I recently ran a third campaign of return of querying literary agents and have started to self-promote by blogging and posting on social media, but I’ve been keeping an eye on which publishers I like…even allowing myself a few flights of fancy about how they’d produce a printed version of my Cornish Detective series.

On my wish list are these four independent publishers:

* Salt Publishing

Shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2012 with Alison Moore’s The Lighthouse and long-listed in 2016 for Wyl Menmuir’s The Many.

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* Blue Moose

Beastings by Benjamin Myers won the £10,000 Portico Literature Prize 2015 and was also shortlisted for The Jerwood Fiction Prize 2015. He went on to win the £25k Walter Scott prize 2018 with his novel The Gallows Pole.

* Bloomsbury

Strong in publishing crime novels, from hard-bitten detectives to mild-mannered vicars. Awards won include the (Man) Booker Prize, the Nobel Prize for Literature, the Orange (now Bailey’s) Prize, the Samuel Johnson Prize and the Crime Writers’ Association Gold Dagger.

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* Galley Beggar Press

Longlisted, shortlisted, and the winners of over twenty of the world’s most prestigious literary awards, including the Women’s Prize for Fiction, The Wellcome Book Prize, The Goldsmiths Prize, The Desmond Elliott Prize, The Jan Michalski Prize, The Folio Prize, The Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize, and the Frank O’Connor Short Story Prize.

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Do you have any preferences for who publishes your book?

Getting Gooder at Writing?!

Since returning to creative writing in 2013, I’ve learned a lot of new skills and some of them felt like scaling a frozen waterfall using ice axes and crampons. I mean stuff like formatting a manuscript, which made my brain melt as I attempted to understand the instructions in Smashwords founder Mark Coker’s free Style Guide.

It turned out to be easier to learn by actually doing it, submitting faulty versions of a short story to Smashwords’ Autovetter which told me what I’d done wrong.

Aspects of writing that I thought I’d be capable of doing, turned out to be complicated with subtleties…mainly linked to marketing myself and my books. Learning how to write plot synopses, queries to literary agents and which tags or keywords to choose to attract readers of ebooks all had me feeling like I was a trainee psychiatrist, not an author.

Selling anything requires trickery. I don’t mean dishonesty, just something that lures a customer into taking a bite at your hook. It could be termed Clickbait in that however you describe your book, including the tags, cover blurb and cover design, needs to make a potential reader curious in some way.

In learning how to do this, I’ve become very aware of what attracts me to a product, be it a book, DVD or CD. The title of this thread is provocative, for we all know that ‘gooder’ isn’t a proper word, but using a slang word might create more interest than my being correct with ‘How I’ve Improved My Writing’…which sounds pompous. It’s important to choose a story title that intrigues as well as informs.

When I read through short stories and poetry I wrote five years ago, the main thing that I correct is wordiness. Usually, less is more, as keeping things simple lets the reader use their imagination. I’m currently re-editing the first novel I wrote, having not looked at it for eighteen months. Leaving stuff in the bottom drawer always improves my eyes’ focus.

I recall wanting to write a crime novel that had literary elements. This ambition led me into using posh words and ten words where one word would have been better.. It’s stuff like having written: “The knife had left a scar on the fatty part above his left jaw” —the fatty part above his left jaw, what are you one about, Paul? I rewrote this as “He had a knife scar on his cheek” Simpler and conveying the same message.

Overall, I think that I’ve learned how to make my writing more forceful with fewer words…punchier. One of the masters of laconic yet dynamic writing was Raymond Chandler, who apparently laboured for hours to cut back what he’d written, and who said:

Image result for raymond chandler A good story cannot be devised; it has to be distilled.

It takes time to distil a story into the written equivalent of whisky. Far easier to dash off what amounts to palatable but weak beer. As Mark Twain is deemed to have said: I didn’t have time to write a short letter, so I wrote a long one instead.

Writing a story shouldn’t force your readers into consulting a dictionary. Using pretentious and unusual words can certainly be used to show the nature of a character, maybe a snob who’s trying to intimidate someone. I did this in my latest Cornish Detective novel, where a murder suspect, a snooty art dealer, talks down to the detectives by referring to painting terms such an en plein air and wet-on-wet.

What I need to get betterer (!) at is how to schmooze. Ingratiating myself with literary agents, publishers and readers doesn’t come naturally to me, but it’s onwards and upwards, as these days there’s no choice but to be your own cheerleader. The biggest fallacy about publishing remains true—that a well-written and well-polished manuscript will automatically rise to the top of the slush pile. Your story may shine, but luminosity alone won’t sell it.

How has your writing improved?

Do you look back at early efforts and groan?

What aspects of writing and publishing intimidate you?

Still Breaking the Rules

I completed editing my fifth novel as 2019 began, before sending off another barrage of queries to literary agents. I’m currently preparing to return to blogging and social media, with a view to raising my profile for self-publishing my Cornish Detective series. I feel like I’ve just built and furnished an ice station in the Arctic by writing my latest book, which I’m now leaving the comfort of to wander the cold wilderness, ill-equipped and without any sense of direction. Eeek, a polar bear!

In anticipation of receiving a blizzard of rejections from literary agents, I’ve been reinforcing my ego by reading articles about best-selling novels that were turned away multiple times.

There’s so much advice flying around about how to write and the best way to get published, that it’s easy to get buried by it all. One thing that drives me slightly crazy is when I see published novels, some of which have become bestsellers, break the rules that I’m expected to conform to. But now I’ve gone through another bout of making submissions, I again find myself mystified over the gulf between what we’re told to do as unpublished authors, and what really happens.

If I take notice of one frequently given piece of advice about how to begin a story, I’ve shot myself in the foot straight away with the opening chapter of my first Cornish Detective novel. Elmore Leonard states in his Ten Rules of Writing not to begin a story with the weather, though I may get away with it, as he allows it if it shows ‘a character’s reaction to the weather’which my story does. Also, in my story, the weather becomes a character, interfering with the investigation of the drowning death of an elderly naturist.

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Leonard’s advice about weather is regurgitated all over the place about what not to do, yet there are many fine novels that begin this way, including:

*Charles Dickens’ Little DorritThirty Years ago, Marseilles lay burning in the sun, one day.

*Charles Dickens’ Bleak House—London. Michaelmas term lately over, and the Lord Chancellor sitting in Lincoln’s Inn Hall. Implacable November weather. As much mud in the streets as if the waters had but newly retired from the face of the earth, and it would not be wonderful to meet a Megalosaurus, forty feet long or so, waddling like an elephantine lizard up Holborn Hill. Smoke lowering down from chimney-pots, making a soft black drizzle, with flakes of soot in it as big as full-grown snowflakes–gone into mourning, one might imagine, for the death of the sun. 

*Charlotte Brontë‘s Jane Eyre—There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.

More recently, best-selling crime novel The Dry, by Jane Harper, thrusts the weather to the fore, with a malevolent drought that holds an isolated Outback town in its merciless grip: It wasn’t as though the farm hadn’t seen death before, and the blowflies didn’t discriminate. To them, there was little difference between a carcass and a corpse.

The drought had left the flies spoilt for choice that summer. They sought out unblinking eyes and sticky wounds as the farmers of Kiewarra levelled their rifles at skinny livestock. No rain meant no feed. And no feed made for difficult decisions, as the tiny town shimmered under day after day of burning blue sky.

The opening two paragraphs of my first Cornish Detective novel Who Kills A Nudist? are: The weather wanted her: she couldn’t resist its call. Salt spray coated the windows, a frill of wind-blown sand edging the frame. The photographer gazed out of her cabin at the breakers 50 yards away. A gale was brooding, as the nor’westerly tried a few breathing exercises in rehearsal for a full recital tomorrow night. This would be the third tempest she’d endured in her time on the beach.

Built a century ago, as a coastal watch station at the start of the first world war, the wooden hut endured. It flexed just enough to tease the wind that jostled it without animosity. She pressed her hand to the wall timbers in the darkness, feeling the structure pulse like a pliant lover ignoring the bluster of a clumsy brute. She was learning life lessons from her refuge, but couldn’t stay hidden forever.

The story is set in the wettest winter on record so it would have been foolish to ignore it. The weather is obstructive to the investigation, literally destroying the crime scene when a storm surge removes the top eight feet of the beach!

I’ve considered rewriting the opening (for all of two seconds), but decided against it, partly as the weather is such a dominant feature of Cornwall’s rugged landscape. Even the beautiful Mediterranean-like beaches and ocean turn lethal; my latest novel begins with two murder victims being retrieved from the sea.

Apart from weather advice from writing gurus, other things that irk me include:

* Not overusing adverbs and adjectives. I admit, writing can often be improved by pruning these, as I recently did with the help of the Hemingway Editor app.

When lost in full flow while writing, it’s easy to get over-flowery. One thing that I noticed about my own writing, was that superfluous adverb use was often a form of tautology.

Having seen the value of removing adverbs, the world’s first writing billionaire J. K. Rowling sprinkles them through her prose like confetti. As adverb hater, Stephen King bitchily observed:  Ms Rowling seems to have never met one [adverb] she didn’t like”

* Leave out the bit that readers skip. This will remain one of the mysteries of the writing nebula! If you take this advice to mean, don’t get too wordy with detailed descriptions, then fine, for hinting at things with a sketch is always better than making an accurate engineering drawing.

But, just from feedback from my beta readers, there are some who skip over the violent passages, while others race ahead to get to the dialogue as if the meaning can be entirely understood by what the characters say. I included a lovemaking scene in my latest novel, the first one in the series, which so embarrassed one reader that she said she preferred it when my protagonist got stabbed with a sword!

What writing advice confuses and enrages you?

Which bits do you ignore?

Surprise me (please)

In reading crime novels, I frequently find that I guess what’s going to happen with characters long before it does. For instance, I’m currently enjoying one of the excellent Hap & Leonard novels by Joe R. Lansdale.

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Honky Tonk Samurai has a plot involving a missing girl, who may have been working for a high-class prostitution operation, which makes most of its money from blackmailing clients. Her granny hires Hap & Leonard to track her down, and asking around they pay a shady character $1,000 for information. This career criminal tells them of a dreaded assassin who works for the extortionists, called the Canceler who garottes his victims with a wire, before slicing off their testicles to keep as souvenirs. The snitch says he needs the pay off to flee town. When I read that, I thought “He’ll stick around, be killed and end up in the trunk of his car—without his balls.” Sure enough, 20 chapters later, that’s exactly what happened.

I wasn’t that disappointed, for I’m familiar with plotting my own crime stories, and I must have read a couple of thousand crime novels in the last 50 years. I even had a glimmer of satisfaction at having guessed what would happen—something that fans of any genre enjoy—it pays to state the expected sometimes.

What’s more rewarding, is when a complete surprise happens…a believable one, I mean, not something so wildly improbable that the reader gets annoyed. As thriller writer John Buchan advised:

“A good story should have incidents, which defy the probabilities and march just inside the borders of the possible.”

I’ve been trying to think of novels I’ve read in the last couple of years, where something totally unexpected happened. Dennis Lehane’s Since We Fell starts with a surprise, as the protagonist is killed by his wife:

On a Tuesday in May, in her thirty-fifth year, Rachel shot her husband dead. He stumbled backward with an odd look of confirmation on his face, as if some part of him had always known she’d do it.’

The plot is convoluted, a tangle of conspiracies, which throws out a few shocks, although the opening with the apparent murder of the husband is explained away with one of the most far-fetched tricks I’ve come across in fiction.

I should say, that Dennis Lehane fabricated one of the best twists in modern psychological suspense writing, with the ending of Shutter Island, revealing that the protagonist is really a mentally unbalanced murderer who’s fantasised the story.

In 2018, I read Adam Hamdy’s thriller Pendulum which uses the writing technique of having most chapters end with the hero being thrown into jeopardy. It was skilfully done, but preposterous at times, as he’s involved in so many violent fights that he makes James Bond look like a wimp. The author gleefully kills off some engaging characters, which wrong-footed me a bit.

When it comes to best-selling novels, praised for their edge-of-the-chair tension and unpredictable plots, I found that my jaw didn’t drop over Gone Girl, The Girl On The Train, Fight Club or Cara Hunter’s Close To Home.

Part of the problem for me was, that far from being books I couldn’t put down, I was so repelled by the unlikeable characters, that I didn’t much care what happened to any of them! As Mark Twain said:

The test of any good fiction is that you should care something for the characters; the good to succeed, the bad to fail. The trouble with most fiction is that you want them all to land in hell together, as quickly as possible.”

Maybe I’ve become unshockable from being a writer. I wrote about this drawback in an old post.

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Well, I’ll be damned, I’ve been surprised in a slightly spooky way, for I just finished reading Honky Tonk Samurai to find it has an ending identical to my recently completed novel The Dead Need Nobody—the hero gets stabbed in the last chapter and is at death’s door on the final page. I’m glad I finished my story before reading it, as it might have forced me into altering my work.

It all makes me wonder if the surprises I’ve put in my Cornish Detective novels will work on my readers. I try to throw in at least one you-didn’t-see-that-coming incident in each story. For example, in An Elegant Murder, my detective was working on his garden, thinking about investigations, when a mountain lion leapt over the fence and stalked towards him. There’d been rumours of exotic big cats on the loose, and various savaged livestock corpses were found, but suddenly he had dramatic proof of their existence. I took myself by surprise writing that confrontation, which I hadn’t planned, so maybe the spontaneity will catch the reader out.

What books surprised you?
Do you try to hoodwink your readers with twists and turns?
Are there any supposed surprises in great literature that you just couldn’t believe?

Strange Ambitions

So far as a master plan for my series of Cornish Detective novels goes, I remain sardonically inclined to think that anything I plan won’t turn out how I think.

As Chinese philosopher Lin Yutang advised: It is important that man dreams, but it is perhaps equally important that he can laugh at his own dreams.

Publishing is such a crazy business: writing that’s utter drivel becomes best-selling, while well-written stories languish neglected.

Should things go well, it would be gratifying to see my novels sell respectably, before being snapped up by a television company to be adapted into a crime drama series, which will help sales of the books.

That’s what I’ve been working towards over the last five years. Beyond such pie in the sky thinking, I’m aware that there could be fallout consequences, which I’ve tried to embrace the potential of in these four strange ambitions:

1) My Cornish Detective stories spark off a tourist trail, with readers trying to find the locations crimes happened, where my detective lives, which Indian restaurant he uses, where he had a fight to the death with a kinky art dealer.

After all, this sort of thing happens with successful books. Think of the bookish tourists visiting Sherlock Holmes’ 221B Baker Street in London (and in Pennsylvania).

J. K. Rowling’s Harry Potter tales have become the basis for various tourist trails in London and Edinburgh.

King’s Cross Station

The locations in New Zealand chosen for the film adaptation of Tolkien’s Lord Of The Rings continue to boost tourism. Living in Cornwall, I’m well aware of the effect successful books have on increasing visitors to places used by Daphne Du Maurier in her ever-popular novels, and, more recently, the television adaptation of Winston Graham’s Poldark series saw the tills ringing. Fans of the Inspector Morse crime novels and television series flock to Oxford where they were set.

Image result for poldark

2) Have a Wikipedia page, preferably one with a few fibs!

3) Be known as “the writer of”, as inPaul Whybrow, the writer of the Cornish Detective series.” Inextricably linked in this way might well become tedious and frustrating, but it’s a rarely acknowledged aspect of fame. Just think of successful artists of all types, who are labelled with their most successful work, as if that’s all they’ve ever done.

4) Also, once I’m dead, some crime writer is hired by my publisher to continue my series. Let’s hope it’s someone good!

What, in your heart of hearts, are your secret ambitions as an author?

To have your book title on a T-shirt?

To be besieged by adoring fans at a book signing?

To overhear two readers talking about your book?

For ‘Author’ to be added beneath your name on your gravestone?