Tag: writing process

Endings and Beginnings – Happy 2026

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 10 Comments

By Margaret Lucke

“The difference between reality and fiction? Fiction has to make sense.”

Variations of this quote have been attributed to numerous authors, from Mark Twain to Tom Clancy. All of them have had to deal with one of the big challenges of writing fiction—coming up with an ending that works.

How things end is one of the biggest ways in which fiction differs from reality. In a novel or a short story, the events of the tale are supposed to come to an orderly, or occasionally disorderly, resolution. The writer is supposed to tie the plot threads together, if not in a big bow then at least into a somewhat tidy knot. The ending doesn’t have to be a happy one, but it does have to make sense.

In real life endings are often messy. Whether it’s a romance, a marriage, a friendship, a job, a war, a civilization, the ending sometimes comes out of nowhere, a total surprise. Or it’s not so much an ending as simply a point where something stops or runs out of steam. Now and then we don’t even realize that an ending has occurred until much later.

But our human brains, aware that time marches steadily forward, like endings—and beginnings too. When we can bracket a set of events with a start point and an end point, that helps us impose a sort of logic on what’s going on in our lives and lets us achieve a measure of understanding.

Even better are the new beginnings that can follow an ending. This doesn’t happen so much with fiction unless the author is writing a series that chronicles the continuing adventures of a particular character. But in real life the closing of one door often provides us with a way to open another. New possibilities arise; we have new opportunities to reinvent ourselves.

That’s what drives our celebration of New Year’s Eve. The end of the year marks the start of a new one, a fresh page offering hope and the potential for better things to come. We make resolutions of a different kind than the ones we mean when we talk about the resolution of the plot in a work of fiction. We resolve to get organized, to lose weight, to become better people. We entertain the belief—though by now we realize that this may be another work of fiction—that the coming year will be better than the one that has just passed.

Right now we’re in that annual season of endings and beginnings. Last week, in celebration, we put on silly hats (well, not me, but some of us), we blew our noisemakers, we counted down as the ball on tower at Times Square descended, we lifted glasses of champagne in a toast (you could count me in for that one).

We said farewell to 2025, and some of us may not be sorry to see it go. We are ten days into a fresh new year, 2026, which at this point is full of hopes and dreams and positive potentials. May all they all turn out not to be fiction but become a positive reality.

I’ll close with my favorite New Year’s toast, my wish for all of you:

“May 2026 be better than any year that’s come before, and worse than every year that will follow it.”

Cheers, everyone! And Happy New Year!

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.

Words, Words, Words

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 4 Comments

By Margaret Lucke

The other day I fell down another internet rabbit hole. While working on a scene in my latest novel-in-progress, I was looking up some words to make sure I was using them correctly. I always like to catch these things, if I can, before the book is published and readers start pointing them out to me.

A couple of hours later, I resurfaced, the sought-after definitions in hand along with quite a few more that were totally irrelevant to the scene in question.

Doing the research can be more fun than doing the writing. It’s a great way to procrastinate while persuading myself that I’m actually working, just as much as if I were putting words on the page. Once I get started doing research like that, one interesting fact leads me to another, and to another. I’m especially fond of fun facts about words, writers, and literature. Here, for your amusement, are some of my discoveries:

*    The longest word in the English-language dictionary is pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanokoniosis, which is a lung disease contracted from inhaling volcanic particles. It contains 45 letters (I counted so you wouldn’t have to). But its primacy is challenged by the chemical name of a giant protein known as titin, which has 189,819 letters and, it is estimated, would fill around 57 pages if printed in a typical book. A YouTube video of a man pronouncing the word runs almost as long as the film Gone with the Wind. No wonder the dictionary leaves it out.

*    That long p-word disease isn’t much of a problem for writers, who are more likely to be afflicted with colygraphia, which sounds serious enough to earn us plenty of tea and sympathy. Most of us call this problem by its more common name — writer’s block.

*    After you recover from your colygraphia, it’s time to get back to work. Before you know it, you may find yourself complaining about mogigraphia, or writer’s cramp

*    Someone who probably suffered from mogigraphia was Peter Bales, who earned fame in Elizabethan England for his skill as a scribe and calligrapher. In 1590 Bales transcribed a complete copy of the Bible so tiny it could fit inside a walnut shell.

*    Though Bales was known to engage in contests and rivalries, I don’t know if he produced his Bible to win a wager. But some have taken pen in hand in order to win a bet. For instance:

>>   Editor and publisher Bennett Cerf bet Dr. Seuss $50 that he couldn’t write a book using only 50 words. Seuss responded by writing Green Eggs and Ham.

>>   Ernest Hemingway famously won a bar bet when his drinking buddies each put $10 in the pot and challenged him to write a story using only six words. Hemingway scribbled these words on a napkin — “For sale: baby shoes, never worn” — and collected the cash. This has led to an entire genre of six-word stories, some of which can be found at http://www.sixwordstories.net/

>>   Agatha Christie wrote her first book, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, after her older sister bet her that she couldn’t write a mystery novel in which the reader couldn’t guess the murder even though given the same clues as the detective – who in this case is Hercule Poirot.

*    Christie’s other famous sleuth is Miss Jane Marple. But Miss M. was far from the first female detective. That honor may belong to the heroine of a novella by E.T.A Hoffman that was published in 1819, more than a century before Miss Marple made her appearance. Both the sleuth and the novella are named Mademoiselle de Scudéri. That’s the same E.T.A. Hoffman, by the way, who wrote The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, which formed the basis of Tchaikovsky’s Christmastime ballet.

Who knew all these cool bits of trivia? Well, I know them, thanks to my research journey and the stops I made along the way. And now so do you. I’ll conclude this list with one final entry:

* A literarian is someone who loves literature and is dedicated to sharing that love with others. In other words, me.

What are some of the odder entries in your literary lexicon?

The People in My Head

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 4 Comments

By Margaret Lucke

“Many people hear voices when there’s nobody there.
Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day.
Some of them are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.”
– Mystery Author Meg Chittenden

Do you hear voices when there’s no one there? Or have invisible people accompany you as you go about your daily activities?

Yes? Then welcome to the club. A fairly exclusive club, as it turns out.

A few years ago I took a short road trip with my good friend Penny, whom I’ve known since our college days. As we drove we chatted, the way old friends do, about our dreams, our daily lives, and the ways we would fix the world if only someone had the good sense to put us in charge. I mentioned the book I was writing, and she asked me this:

“What’s it like to have people running around inside your head all the time?”

The question startled me. “What? You mean you don’t have them?”

“Not at all. I can’t imagine it. Is it like hearing voices?”

Now, Penny is someone with a direct line to the creative process. She’s a brilliant cook who serves the most amazing dishes. A talented seamstress who tossed together fantastic costumes out of nothing for our college theater. A devoted lover of art, music and literature. Yet she didn’t have people occupying her head? How did her brain work then? How could she possibly think?

Since then, I’ve discovered that it’s actually rare to have a head filled with people. I’ve met other fiction writers who share this trait, but usually when I mention it to someone I get a strange look, as if the person is assessing whether I need to the services of my friendly neighborhood mental institution.

Perhaps I do. But I have a hard time understanding how anyone’s mental processes could possibly function in a different way.

I’ve had people wandering around in my brain ever since I can remember. They’re my equivalent of imaginary playmates. They tell me stories, ask me questions, give me answers, and help me clarify my thinking. They keep me company when I take long walks and as I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I’ve heard that writing is a lonely profession, and in lots of ways that’s true. But even when I’m at my desk by myself, I’m never really alone.

Some of the people in my head turn into characters in my novels and short stories. Often what sparks a story is a snatch of conversation that comes drifting through my brain. That sets me on a journey to discover who’s talking, and how they’re connected to each other, and what they’re discussing and why. Gradually the story emerges.

My first novel, A Relative Stranger, began this way. Walking to a bus stop, my mind let me overhear a late-night phone conversation. The woman who answered the phone clearly found the call unwelcome. The man who had called sounded desperate to connect with her. When I reached my destination, I wrote the conversation down. Who were these people?

The woman turned out to be a private investigator named Jess Randolph; the caller was her estranged father, turning up after many years to ask for her help because he was the prime suspect in a murder. Was he guilty? Would she help him? What would they do next?

In my story “Haircut,” a flash fiction tale that was recently published by Guilty Crime Fiction Magazine (you can read it here), I woke up one morning listening to the voice of a young woman named Hallie as she described the abrupt ending to what she had hoped would be an enduring romance. I got out of bed, stumbled to my computer, and wrote down what she had to say.

I may be making the process sound easier than it is. The people in my head don’t always want to be promoted from random guest to Story Character. Once they have me intrigued, they all too often ignore me. They fight me off or hide behind the curtains. They take a vow of silence. Sometimes they disappear.

And sometimes, gradually, after I beg and plead and cajole, they start to reveal their secrets.

At last the story is underway.

Thankful Thursday

~ lanamfox ~ 4 Comments

I loved the last mystery I read, but I don’t remember who the killer was. I do remember being deep in the story because the author took me on a wonderful journey. The book was set in the 1940’s, and she did such an amazing job of immersing me in the story world. The setting, characters, and storyline were so exquisite that the solving of the crime seemed less important.

Now, I know that those of you who read mysteries for the puzzle might have a different take on this, and sometimes I do too, especially when I’m totally surprised by the killer. But at times, the story journey is so special that the ending is inconsequential.

Today, I’m thankful for all the writers who’ve gone before me. I was a huge fan of Mary Higgins Clark’s books. When I sat down to read one, it was like sitting down with a good friend while they told me something that happened to them. I would get so engrossed in the story I didn’t want it to end. I read her books straight through and was sorry I did because I had to wait a year for the next one.

A few years ago, I took a class on writing from Robert Dugoni. It was such an amazing class by a wonderful writer and teacher. The class was small, maybe twenty people, and I still think about what he taught and how fortunate I was to be there. Robert talked a lot about finding the heart of the story. At the time, I was new at writing novels and even though I loved what he said, I didn’t know how to apply it to my work.

Now, after publishing three mystery novels, I feel like I have a better understanding of what he meant. The main character in my Hood River Valley Mystery Series is a woman detective, Liz Ellisen. Liz is the driving force of the story, but as I thought about this, I asked myself, what about her draws the reader in? What makes them ask for more books about her?

Liz puts her heart into solving crimes, and she wants to find justice for the victims. She can be strong and tough, but she can also be tender and loving. And even though her own life hasn’t always been easy, she wants to make the world a better place for others.

I recently had my books for sale at a holiday bazaar. A lady came in and bought three copies of my latest book, one for each of her sister’s for Christmas. She said, “I loved all of your books, but this one is my favorite.”

As with most writers, I hope that my books get better with each one. But I’ve found that some people like my stand alone novel, which was my first published novel, better than the series. And other people like the series best. It’s such a thrill when someone buys my books for their friends or family because they enjoyed them so much.

I feel that finding the driving force of the story is also about finding the heart of the story. Thank you to Robert Dugoni for sharing that. I would love a sign to put up in my office that says, “What is the heart of this story?” I’m hoping I’ll remember to dig deeper to really find what drives my characters and in so doing, find a way to connect to my reader’s hearts.

So this Thanksgiving I’m thankful for all of the writers, teachers and readers who have brought me such joy over the years. I’m also thankful to each of you for reading this blogpost and to Ladies of Mystery for inviting me to write a post on the blog.

Happy Thanksgiving. May your heart be full of love and may we all find the heart in our stories.

My view as I write. Yes, sometimes it’s difficult to concentrate, but not today. Today it was pouring rain and the mountain was hiding. Blessings, Lana