Tag: writing

Of Dinosaurs and Digits

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 5 Comments

by Janis Patterson


Be warned. There is a rant coming!


I am old. I must admit it. Some people might even call me a dinosaur… an appellation I am proud to claim. I mean, how nifty to have someone talking about you and being interested in you a couple of million years after you died!


I even wrote my first real book on an ancient manual typewriter. (My very first book was done with pencil and paper, but I was only four I hadn’t learned to type yet. I was ten before I could convince my dad to teach me.) Then, a couple of books later I graduated to a portable electric – an SCM in cloud blue – and boy, did I feel like I was in tall cotton. It was like heaven, and the bulging muscles the manual had built up in my fingers gradually faded away. My problem was paper. Paper was (proportionally) more expensive then than now and each draft required paper. Lots of it.


I became adept at adapting and scavenging. I’d use old drafts, slash a Mark-A-Lot through the typed side (which bled through to the other side, creating some interesting problems on occasion) and type the new story on the back. Then one day I got lucky. A business in the building where I worked went out of business and put half a dozen reams of their stationery out for garbage. Needless to say the garbage didn’t get them. For at least three books I felt so elegant typing my rough drafts on 35lb (I think – it was definitely heavy) deckle-edged grey paper. Sad thing was, there had to be a clean final copy typed for submissions. In those antique days there were no Xeroxes, just a very messy and expensive wet process copy machine, so you had to watch your one precious clean copy like a hawk, or go spend the time typing a second one.


Finally computers came in. My first memory typewriter/computer was an Olivetti, at the time the world standard instead of IBM, which wasn’t selling in the US so they were practically giving them away. It had about a two page memory and showed one line of copy at a time. And we writers were delighted. I used that for about two books then IBM PC clones became affordable even to poor writers like me and I adapted. I gave the Olivetti to my mother, but she could never master it. She’d call in tears so often trying to make it behave – it did work as just a regular typewriter just as well and was grade-school simple but she and it never did mesh, so I finally took it away from her and gave it to some charity.


With a small succession of ever-more-useful PCs I upped my output and was very happy. Some of the later ones even had internal memory, but the luxury of saving to a floppy disk was wonderful. The best thing, however, was the cut-and-paste function. Until that cut and paste was actually that, with scissors and cellophane tape and a lot of retyping.
I went through computers fairly quickly, as the older PCs seemingly weren’t made to last. Nowadays though, the computers are made to last, but the MicroSoft programs are ‘upgraded’ with depressing regularity and even more depressingly higher prices. This is what made me so angry with MS that my darling husband gifted me with a Mac Book Pro eight years ago, and it has ticked along happily ever since then except for a couple of swelling battery replacements.Yes, there was a learning curve, but I overcame that through pure fury at MS, and now have acquired two more Macs, one solely for long distance travel and another waiting in the wings to supplement my ageing Pro.


And still MS tries to keep their bottom line by dictating ever newer program ‘upgrades.’


This is the basic point of this rather angry little screed. Why must we continue buying and rebuying to get new features that we do not use, do not need and do not want in order to keep support for the programs we do use, need and want? Why doesn’t MS put out a ‘writers version’ – slimmed down, practical and simple to use – that doesn’t have something unwanted and complicated added on with deadly and costly regularity? Same reason they are becoming reluctant to sell a program in a one-time buy, preferring instead to make customers rent it so they can bloat and complicate it even further with ‘improvements.’


The answer is obvious, and I could describe it perfectly with one or two possibly rude words that no lady should ever use.


And that is why I’m exploring and switching to other ‘office-style’ suites. Someday I am going to find the perfect one, and when I do I’ll share my choice with you in case you should want it.


Of course, I could – and do – just keep using the version I like, but I live in terror of my data simply evaporating some day. (I do keep various versions in various formats – paranoia can save your life…) If necessary, I could go back to the manual typewriter or (though my aged fingers tremble at the thought) plain white typing paper and a pencil.


The thing is, writers should be concentrating on their writing instead of having to constantly juggle with the tools of writing. Is that such an outrageous concept?

Who’s In Charge Here?

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 2 Comments

by Janis Patterson

Every so often one of my writers’ groups will conduct a workshop on ‘how to create a character.’ I’ve taken a few of them and the methods range from a half-dozen point checklist to a six page questionnaire that goes into such depth as the character’s favorite flavor of Jello, the schools he attended, what kind of pet he had as a child…. You get the idea.

I’ve tried them all, and each time created a deep, multi-faceted character. A completely dead deep, multi-faceted character. They had all the proper points, but they never came to life on the page. Working with them resulted in all the joy and sparkle of Silly Putty. Oh, they moved from Point A to Point B when I directed them, and spoke the words I put in their mouths, but they were reminiscent of nothing so much as Gumby or King Kong – their movements were obviously stop-animation instead of really coming to life.

So I quit taking classes and went back to what I’ve always done – letting the character come to me. Almost every writer has snorted with disbelief when I tell them about the birth of my characters, but – other than my occasional forays into how-to-create-characters classes – it’s always worked for me.

So what do I do? Nothing. My characters simply walk in, tell me their name, and start fitting into the vague storyline that I’ve started with. And yes, they tell me their names. Once I really didn’t like a character’s (the hero!) name and changed it. He didn’t like it, so he shut up and refused to speak to me again until I changed it back to what he wanted some three weeks later. Then the writing simply flowed because of his cooperation.

Who said writers had complete control in their own world?

I know this technique (technique? maybe dictatorship?) wouldn’t work for all writers. Huh, it may not work for any writer besides me, but that’s the point. Even if I’m the only one it works for, it does work for me. I know the character’s-favorite-Jello system works for some people. It doesn’t work for me, but I’m glad it works for them.

What I’m trying to say is that there is no one singular this-way-only technique for writing a book. The only thing that we all should do is write a good book. How we write that book is up to us. There are many good techniques, probably some I’ve never heard of. The important thing is that each writer has to find the one that works for him. Or which ones work for him. There’s no rule saying you can only use one technique. As long as you turn out a good book, it doesn’t matter.

A Tribute to a Fine Writer and Great Friend

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 4 Comments

By Margaret Lucke

The literary world lost a bright light last week­—the redoubtable Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. To me, she was a muse, mentor, and great friend. To her many readers and fans she was, in some of their own words, “a brilliant writer and an amazing person,” “a consummate professional,” and “a truly extraordinary human being.”

We met in 1978 when I went to my first meeting of the Northern California chapter of Mystery Writers of America. She was the chapter president at the time, and gave me a warm welcome that grew to one of my closest friendships.

She defined what it means to be a prolific writer, having around 100 published books to her credit, along with numerous short stories and essays. Her work spanned just about every possible genre­—science fiction, fantasy, Westerns, romance, crime fiction, and horror. She won a Bram Stoker Lifetime Achievement Award in 2009 and received a World Fantasy Award for life achievement in 2014. 

Quinn was a Lady of Mystery in her own right, as the author of two mystery series, one starring the Native American attorney Charlie Spotted Moon and the other featuring a 1920s journalist Poppy Thornton who investigates crimes with the help of a ghost named Chesterton Holte. But what she is best known for is her groundbreaking novels that follow the vampire Count St. Germain across several continents and centuries. In a departure from the norm, her vampire was the good guy. “The horror in these books,” she said, “comes from what human beings do to each other.”

I shared with Quinn an appreciation of a good red wine, an affection for the cats with whom she shared a home, and two memorable trips to Italy. She shared with me a great deal of wisdom and encouragement when it came to writing.

She gathered some of that wisdom into a workbook called Fine-Tuning Fiction, which evolved out of a popular seminar she offered through the Writers Connection in Cupertino. She organized it five sections, or what she called The Five Ps, each covering an essential aspect of an fiction writer’s craft: People, Plot, Presence, Pacing, Poetics. A quick sampling:

PEOPLE – “All fiction begins with people, no matter how they are packaged, and the premise that people—which covers all species and forms of characters, human or otherwise—are interesting.”

PLOT – “When most people say plot they mean story-line, or the steps the characters take to get from one end of the narrative to the other. A plot is much more basic than that. It is the means by which the argument or conflict between two or more characters is resolved.”

PRESENCE – “The environment of a story is as much a character as the people in it. Presence is what pulls the reader in with your characters and convinces them that their experience is complete.”

PACING – “Pacing has to do with how quickly events occur in a story, and how much reaction time is allowed before another event occurs. Every story will reveal its own internal rhythm if you are willing to take the time to work the story through.”

POETICS – “[Words that seem mean the same thing] contain nuances that make them not quite synonyms, and therefore each has a slightly different meaning. These nuances are the province of poetics, or the esthetics of words. Just as presence and pacing each contribute to the impact of story-telling, so poetics give any piece of fiction its particular voice.”

You might be amused to know that the list of not-really synonyms she uses to introduces the Poetics discussion is: nude, naked, bare, unclothed, undraped, stripped, starkers, in your birthday suit, bare-assed, disrobed, in the altogether, exposed, in the buff, in a state of nature, unattire, unclad. I’m sure that list caught her readers’ attention. All of those terms mean “not wearing any clothes,” but the impression each of them conveys is different, sometimes strongly and sometimes subtly, from the impact made by any of others.

Ciao, Quinn. I’m going to miss you. Tonight I’ll raise a glass of your favorite red in your honor. Have a good time cavorting in the afterlife and telling everyone there great stories.

Are You Listening to What They Are Saying?

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 2 Comments


by Janis Patterson

Books are a widely varying commodity. Some are so wonderful you could live in that world forever. Some are so bad you don’t even try to finish them. Most fall somewhere in the middle. Right now we’re dealing with a new kind of book, a kind of zombie product written by the abomination of AI and released by the overwhelming hundreds. Luckily – for now, at least – they are recognizable primarily for their lifelessness.


So what is it that binds these widely varying standards together – good, bad and zombie?


There are lots of things, but I believe a lot of it is dialogue. Good books have the characters speaking as if they were real people – not interchangeable cardboard cutouts. Of course, this is occasionally a rule that can be tweaked. In a futuristic sci-fi populated with human-android characters, the speech patterns and word choices would be different than in a light-hearted Regency romance, and each choice should be congruent not only with the time and setting of the book, but with the status/occupation/ethnicity of the individual character.


For an only slightly exaggerated example, everyone is familiar with the slave Prissy’s exclamation during the battle of Atlanta sequence in Gone With The Wind – “I don’t know nothing ‘bout birthing no babies.” As offensive as some modern readers might find it, her heartfelt cry is commensurate with her time, her status and the situation of the scene. Just imagine how jarring it would be if she were to say : “Good gracious, Miss O’Hara, I am completely ignorant of the processes involved in delivering a baby.” That would pull the reader right out of the scene. To a large extent, language equals character.


And the principle doesn’t really change no matter what the genre, though the actual words probably will. In a hard-boiled detective story, a police sergeant is not going to speak the same way as a career petty thief. In a western, a wealthy rancher with political aspirations will sound different from a brow-beaten saddle tramp. In a Regency romance a high in the instep duke will have a completely different vocabulary and range of meaning than a poverty-stricken dock worker. In a contemporary romance sometimes the difference will be less blatant, mainly because of the ubiquity of books and television acting as influencers, but there will be noticeable differences.


Just to make the convoluted even more so, know that all the above can be overridden if the plot demands. Perhaps the duke is working on the docks to find out who is stealing his fortune or something. Perhaps the weary saddle tramp is really a Pinkerton man out to investigate the rancher whom he thinks is really setting himself up as a dictator. Perhaps…. you get the idea. Confustication upon confustication. But you must play fair with the reader – not by telling him from the outset what is going on, but by allowing him to listen to the various people and find out the truth for himself.


Language equals character.


And if you’re writing a hard sci-fi about three-eyed, blue-skinned Orychiks from the Dyinolive galaxy with no humans involved you’re pretty much on your own… just remember that in almost every society the ‘elites’ (for want of a better word) speak differently than the ‘hoi polloi’ (again for want of a better word) primarily as a matter of status. I think this need for distinction, for individuality (even in a herd sense) is hardwired to people’s/being’s innermost self. Even among most animal species there is a distinct pecking order.


Just remember two things – language creates and showcases character, and you must play fair – enough that the reader can follow along with you and understand, even if you do pull a few tricks along the way.

What a Writer Does in Her Spare Time

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 3 Comments

By Margaret Lucke

Spare time? What spare time?

The other day someone asked me what hobbies I enjoy. When I’m asked a question like that, I never know what to say. A hobby is a pastime—that is, an interest or activity you enjoy passing time with when you’re not working. But when is a writer not working?

Really, it’s a 24/7 job. No matter what else we’re doing, half of our mind is focused on writing the book. With that kind of schedule, who has time for a hobby?

Consider some of my favorite activities. You might think they’re hobbies but they qualify as work just as much as the time I spend at my desk.

Reading. Writing changes how you read. When I pick up a book my mental red pencil is poised to rearrange sentences and trim out extraneous words. I nod at clever word choices and apt descriptions, and shake my head at clumsy ones. Every book is a potential course in professional development. How can I achieve what Author A does so well? How can I avoid doing things as badly as Author B? Sometimes, to my delight, a book absorbs me so completely that my mental red pencil disappears. Other times, it’s so busy that I get annoyed and set the book aside for good.

Movies. I’m a big fan of movies, and I especially like seeing them in a theater. The big screen, the dark auditorium, and of course the popcorn add a lot to the experience, if you ask me. A writer can learn so much from movies. How is the backstory made clear when there’s only dialogue, action, and visual cues to work with? How is the main character’s point of view made clear when we can only observe that person from the outside? How are the plot points presented and transitions made from Act I to Act I to Act III? By the time the credits roll, my husband is blinking back tears while I’m analyzing how the scriptwriter achieved that emotional impact.

Walks. A hike on a forest trail and a walk along a beach are my favorite forms of exercise—or. even a stroll around the neighborhood. I’m fortunate in that the San Francisco Bay Trail goes through my town, and it’s not unusual to find me there. I enjoy the fresh air, the sunshine, the bird song, and all of the story ideas that pop into my head. Maybe it’s the rhythm of the steps or the letting go of other thoughts as I attempt to be present in the moment. I try to remember to tuck a pad and pen into my pocket so I can be ready to grab the elusive ideas as they float by.

Sleeping. Sleeping is one of my better skills, and it’s definitely a way I enjoy passing the time, especially in the middle of the night. But even when I’m asleep, my story machine is cranking away. I’m sure I’m not the only writer who’s dreamed the entire plot of a novel during the course of a night. Of course, as soon as the alarm clock rings it all vanishes, except for a couple of tantalizing but meaningless tidbits. That’s not the point. What’s important is, even though my body is at rest my mind is still at work.

So none of those activities really count as hobbies. I can think of only one pastime I have that doesn’t contribute somehow to my writing: 

Sudoku. Nine digits. Arrange them in rows, columns, and squares so that none are repeated. No math, just logic. And it’s nonverbal, leaving no room for words and ideas to jostle their way into my head.

Except—what if there’s a major sudoku competition, with a top prize big enough to kill for? And what if it pits two expert players against each other, two experts with secrets in their pasts? And what if there’s a cheating scandal? And what if …