An Example of the Experiments, 4 – Fains I – A John Chance Mystery

We left off in An Example of the Experiments, 2 – Fains I with the promise of sharing the original Fains I opening and the rewrite making use of multiple storycrafting techniques.

I shared the original first ~900 words in An Example of the Experiments, 3 – Fains I and here I share the rewrite, now the first chapter in a work-in-progrWe left off in An Example of the Experiments, 2 – Fains I with the promise of sharing the original Fains I opening and the rewrite making use of multiple storycrafting techniques.

I shared the original first ~900 words in An Example of the Experiments, 3 – Fains I and here I share the rewrite, now the first chapter in a work-in-progress, the Fains I – A John Chance Mystery novel.

My first question is, as a reader, does this appeal more to you than the original version? If yes, because…? If not, because…? Figure out what makes it better or worse and you’ll have some excellent handles on your own crafting.

Now to analyze…

First thing, what happened to Tim and his family?

Remember my writing “I realized the rewritten opening sucked because I didn’t know enough about the characters to really care about them. The shift from teenager going to the prom to elderly man on his deathbed drove the story in the correct direction and not enough.” in An Example of the Experiments, 2 – Fains I?

I was correct that the story had an older cast of characters (demonstrated in the rewrite above).

I also wrote “This brings us back to An Example of the Experiments – Fains I’s First Question: Who Owns the Story?”

As written earlier, the core piece – someone dies and Tim’s involved – was solid enough to carry the story, but nothing I came up with made Tim interesting enough to me to write about him and, as noted previously, readers will only be interested in your characters if you’re interested in you’re characters.

How to make “Tim” more interesting to me? Hmm…

The original story had a car accident resulting in a death. Too random. Yeah, there could be guilt and an accident is an accident is an accident, and accidents happen.

Give Tim

  1. a reason to murder someone and
  2. make him remorseless about the murder because
  3. he feels justified in the killing.

Okay, psychosociopathic youngsters are interesting but can be limiting because a youth doesn’t have the life experience to have those attitudes fully realized, so an older “Tim” who feels justified and has no guilt.

Gosh golly gee. Tim’s becoming quite three-dimensional here. He’s interesting.

What if the older Tim had committed several murders, believed all of them justified and remains remorseless and guilt free?

This Tim’s obviously got a) a history and b) some issues.

And the best part is such psychosociopaths are usually pretty good at hiding who they are from public view.

Sometimes you can let the reader know more about a situation than the characters know about this situation.

 
Alfred Hitchcock gave a great example of creating audience interest, empathy, and tension: Have two people eating lunch or having a drink at a picnic table or a an outdoor cafe. Now put a ticking bomb under the table and make sure the audience sees it and knows what it is.

Doesn’t matter if the audience likes or dislikes the people at the table, they’re interested in what happens.

So there’s a psychosociopath loose, no one knows it, and the reader learns it. Great! Excellent.

But don’t tell the reader everything at once. Foreshadow. Hint. Mislead and misdirect, all of which now stars with the novel’s A John Chance Mystery subtitle (Search – The First John Chance Mystery has already signalled regular readers more John Chance novels are coming and new readers Fains I is part of a series).

Ooo. This is getting better already. We’re starting to have a story.

The last part mentioned previously was have an interesting person in an interesting place doing an interesting thing and “Give the reader an interesting person in an interesting place doing an interesting thing. If you only give one, it’s got to be incredibly strong. Two is good, three is dynamite.” along with Relatability and the four basic ways people relate to things:

  1. they’re familiar with a place (Setting)
  2. they’re familiar with what’s happening (Plot)
  3. they’re familiar with the people involved (Character)
  4. they’re familiar with what’s being said (Language)

and remember to throw in And add in what makes a great opening: conflict, tension, oddness, …?

Throw all this in the pot, let simmer, stir occasionally, season to taste, and we get (I hope) something closer to what’s the story, a first pass of which is shown above. A detailed (pretty much line-by-line) analysis is below:

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All Fains I posts.

An Experiment in Writing – Part 10: ACTION SCENES! (finally)

Okay, you’ve all been waiting for this one…

Or at least I’ve been promising it for a while…

Pretty much everything covered here is in Writing Realistic Hand-to-Hand Combat Scenes.

 
Think I’m onto something? Take a class with me or schedule a critique of your work.
Think I’m an idiot? Let me know in a comment.
Either way, we’ll both learn something.

Pick up a copy of The Augmented Man and follow along.

For that matter, pick up multiple copies of any and/or all of my books because it’s a nice thing to do, you care, and I need the money.

An Example of the Experiments, 3 – Fains I

We left off in An Example of the Experiments, 2 – Fains I with the promise of sharing the original Fains I opening and the rewrite making use of multiple storycrafting techniques.

First, the original’s first ~900 words

Tim screamed. His father kicked off covers and rose quickly. He didn’t bother with robe or slippers and hollered, “It’s okay, Tim. We’re coming.”
Mrs. Young lifted her gown and cursed the folds as her hands fought to find their place. Mr. Young wrenched the door open.
A hallway nightlight flooded their bedroom with dark colors.
“Put on a real light , ” he said as he and his wife raced down the hall to Tim’s room.
Mr. Young entered first. Mrs. Young caromed off the door at the end of the hall.
Mr. Young grabbed Tim as he landed on the bed, his tears washing Tim as he held his son against him, rocking and speaking softly.
Timothy continued to scream, unrelenting, unaware of his father’s arms, each scream higher than the last, longer than the last, each scream more hopeless than the last.
Mrs. Young flicked the light in Tim’s room. His bed held a sweat soaked outline of his body. “Can you move him? I should change the sheets.”
Mr. Young continued rocking Tim, his eyes closed, still holding his son against him, too big to sit in dad’s lap, too terrified not to. “Why bother? The covers are off the bed. Just let it dry out.”
Tim stopped shrieking. His eyes started to focus. He sat up, rigid, arms locked by his sides. He looked at his father.
“You’re home, Tim. Mom and I are right here. Do you know where you are?”
Tim clenched his father like a child seeking the security of its mother’s breasts, sobbing heavily. His body finally went limp and he slept again.
Mr. Young looked at his wife, framed in the doorway. “I’ll spend the night in here with him.

***

Continue reading “An Example of the Experiments, 3 – Fains I

An Experiment in Writing – Part 9: Final Conflicts Worth Reading

A little more on closings.

Or near closings because the final conflict between protagonist and antagonist should come as close to the end of the story as possible…unless there’s another antagonist waiting for a few rounds with the champ.

 
Think I’m onto something? Take a class with me or schedule a critique of your work.
Think I’m an idiot? Let me know in a comment.
Either way, we’ll both learn something.

Pick up a copy of Empty Sky and/or any and/or all of my books because it’s a nice thing to do, you care, and I need the money.

An Experiment in Writing – Part 7: Inciting Incidents

an interesting person in an interesting place doing an interesting thing

I’m reviewing a young writer’s work and, although nicely written, wasn’t engaged by it – at least not as engaged as I want to be to read a complete novel. This is (for me) the #1 reason I reject something as Senior Fiction Editor of Wilderness House – no inciting incident

What is an “inciting incident” and what makes a good one?

I’m reading this because…?

 
Traditionally, an “inciting incident” is the “why is this happening?” of a story, the one thing which must happen for the rest of the story to happen.

I broaden that out a bit. Inciting incidents answer the reader’s question “I’m reading this because…?” That question is answered with “Have an interesting person in an interesting place doing an interesting thing.” You can have two of the three and still have a good opening. You can have one but it’s got to be incredibly strong for the reader to continue.

 
Think I’m on to something? Take a class with me or schedule a critique of your work.
Think I’m an idiot? Let me know in a comment.
Either way, we’ll both learn something.

And go buy my books so you can follow along!