Author: Tom

Categories
Craft

First Words Matter

First words matter!

 

Opening number one in my WIP “Red Planet Gunsmoke” goes like this:

 

“Approaching the Treaty’s new war cruiser filled Cadet Ramona Keegan with something like religious awe.”

 

This sentence works and is functional. However, it forms part of a very chunky paragraph, spanning seven lines. It’s not typical for me, but it’s a different genre, something I’m trying a little differently.

 

Given that, let’s try a different one. Here’s the opening of chapter one from the same story:

 

“Pirate Captain Ramona Keegan ran a calloused hand over her bald head, palm lingering over the crimson hourglass of a colossal black widow spider tattoo, whose tarsi ended at the corner of the captain’s ice-blue eyes.”

 

The second line follows: “‘I want that ship,’ she said to her crew, ‘and I mean to have it.’”

 

In this version, we already have two paragraphs. The first line, though long, is only three lines. By comparison, the first example is seven lines on my Word document.

 

Neither is necessarily better or worse, but there is an adage in advertising and marketing that you want to attract the right people and repel the wrong ones. The same is true of our fiction.

 

In a bookstore or on a website like Amazon, you have the benefit of a cover and blurb, which help attract readers. On a website, you might also have reviews. But most readers, whether browsing in a store or online, will look inside the book. The first thing they’ll likely see is the first page. While most readers won’t make a decision based solely on the first sentence, it’s beneficial to make that first sentence remarkable.

 

If you’re a writer seeking traditional publishing, that first sentence matters even more. An agent will only read so much, and if the first sentence doesn’t grab them, they might move on. Agents have piles of submissions, both physical and digital. You have mere seconds to capture their attention and compel them to keep reading. For book readers and purchasers, there’s a bit more leeway, but why not make that first sentence exceptional? It can make the difference in hooking your reader.

 

For example, I was working with a student who had a solid opening about a creature in the bushes. It was intriguing, but not as engaging as it could be. A few paragraphs down, the student mentioned the character imagining a gunfight with Jesse James. By moving that line to the top, the opening became much more compelling. Immediately, it created curiosity and made me want to read more. If you’re not interested in Jesse James or the Old West, you can put the book down, which is fine because it means the book isn’t for you.

 

It’s important to realize your book isn’t for everyone.

 

It might appeal to millions, thousands, or even hundreds, but it won’t appeal to everyone. Writers, particularly those pursuing traditional publishing, need to understand this. Telling an agent your book will be a bestseller because “everyone will love it is unrealistic.” Focus on finding your actual audience. Crafting an irresistible first line can help attract the right readers and repel the wrong ones.

 

For instance, starting with “Pirate Captain Ramona Keegan” grabs attention. It hints at a space opera setting without explicitly stating it. Even though the cover might show a spaceship or a woman in a spacesuit, the narrative needs to establish the genre quickly. The first sentence doesn’t need to reveal everything, but it should hook the reader and be honest about what to expect.

 

Consider the difference between the two openings: the first, “Approaching the Treaty’s new war cruiser filled Cadet Ramona Keegan with something like religious awe,” is functional but doesn’t grab you. In contrast, “Pirate Captain Ramona Keegan ran a calloused hand over her bald head, palm lingering over the crimson hourglass of a colossal black widow spider tattoo, whose tarsi ended at the corner of the captain’s ice-blue eyes,” is much more engaging.

 

Take the time to write your story, but also craft that first line, paragraph, and page meticulously. Consider paragraph breaks, word choices, and every detail. A well-crafted first page can attract the right readers and, crucially, literary agents.

 

I hope this advice is helpful. Stay in touch and take care.

Categories
Craft

Create Memorable Characters in Writing Fiction

If you want to create a memorable character, I need you to taste them.

Hold on. Stay with me. I promise this is going somewhere.

This is just a quick little exercise to round out or give some depth to your characters, to your protagonists.

Go to the beginning of the story. It doesn’t matter if it’s a short story or a novel or a series. If you’re working in a series, then start at the beginning of the series, page one of the series, and go all the way to the end of the series. Whether you’ve gotten that far or not doesn’t really matter.

Describe your protagonist in crippling detail in that first page.

Not for the writing, not for the novel. You’re not necessarily going to put it into the book. This is just for you. This is just an exercise. Take some time and describe that protagonist in excruciating detail.

I want you to taste them.

What would they taste like if you licked their cheek or their arm? Like what? What kind of sensations? Not just what they look like. Not her long, beautiful blonde hair. What does she actually smell like at the beginning of the story? Give as many sensory details as you possibly can. Dispassionately, no judgment. This is just for you.

Go in deep with all of your senses, as much sensory stuff as you can possibly squeeze into this description for page one, where they start the story.

Then, very simply, repeat this exercise for them on the last page of the story or the book or the series.

Now what do they taste like, now what do they smell like, now what do they sound like? And of course, what do they look like? Does she have a scar on her face now that she didn’t have before? Does he have a limp now that he didn’t have before? Whatever those things were, how are they different at the end?

Those things should be different because your character has been on a journey, and every successful story has to do with the character going on a journey, right?

Let’s say we’re writing a horror story, and some terrible things are going to happen on that camping trip. How does this character look, smell, taste, feel – all those things – at the beginning of this journey, in the car, on the way to the woods; do you smell the coffee? Versus the last page of a horror story: what do they look like now, what do they smell like?

I am not necessarily advocating for you to include all of these vivid descriptions in the story. You certainly can. They are there to be used, and that’s fine. But the purpose, the goal of this particular exercise isn’t just to create new and exciting ways to describe your character.

It’s to more concretely establish in your mind, as creator of this universe, the journey that your character has been on, having those kinds of sensory details in your mind that you can call upon. “I have to remember that at the end of this book, the end of the story, the end of this series, the target goal I’m aiming for here is somebody who is stronger (or somebody who is weaker), somebody who’s been through hell, but come out on the other side.”

How can you physically indicate what they’ve been through emotionally?

It’s just an exercise. It’s not necessarily something you want to put into the book, although once you have those sensory details, maybe it is something you want to put in the, maybe just in the process of doing this sort of exercise, you’ve discovered something about the character that you hadn’t thought of before. Discoveries are so much fun, especially for those of us who are pantsers rather than plotters.

Having those sort of concrete details can really root you as a creator and show us as the reader the journey that they have taken.

Categories
Uncategorized

Starting My New Writing Career: Writing A Book Is Not Enough

Here’s what I know.

I’m a good storyteller. I published nine traditional (“trad”) novels for a pretty good chunk of change. I got to write on a popular comic book. I’ve been writing in other universes, and get invited back. So I know how to do that part.

What I and most other authors are not so good at:

Marketing. Getting in front of people. Getting in front of the right people, the people who buy books.

Here’s what else I know:

I know that I’m really good at getting a group of people together to make something creative. A play, an audiobook, a short film. I’ve never had the same kind of success with these formats as I have with novels, but it also depends on what our definition of “success” is.

I have a very specific financial goal.

I also have a very specific emotional goal.

I no longer believe the two have to be exclusive.

The plan:

Write several serials at once. Failing and learning in public, per Gary Vee.

Use paid Facebook advertising to test headlines, images, and story ideas.

Use a social media scheduler to post no less than four times per day across the major platforms, with specific targets in mind for each platform (for me, Twitter/X only has good engagement on one type of post, so that’s what I’ll post. No more wasting time trying to drive traffic from a source that has a low time-ROI.)

Outline the serials to fill five or more complete novels.

Take the novels one at a time to Kickstarter.

Use book #1 in each series as a lead magnet and intro to the series.

Use newsletter swaps and paid newsletter advertising, as well as Facebook ads, to drive readers to the first book in the series.

Release for three months on Kindle Unlimited.

Then release wide, including my own storefront.

Once a book is wide and on my storefront, use that as the only link-in-bio…drive traffic first and foremost directly to my store.

…Repeat?

That’s basically it.

A lot of folks will say that’s too many irons in the fire at once. And I’d agree, except that this is how my brain works. I’ve tried all the other ways. Long gone are the days of a trad publisher offering me high five-figure advances, i.e., living wages.

If I don’t take charge now, I may never.

I’ve tried focusing on one thing at a time. I get excited by the new Shiny Thing and never go back. This way, I’ve got multiple projects that all hold my interest in varying degrees.

I get to tell the stories that have been cooking on back burners for so long.

This plan allows me to put to use many of my mentors’ ideas. For example, The Pumpkin Plan: Plant a shit-ton of seeds and prune the ones that don’t produce.

I don’t know which genre will land, but I’m not about to spend years writing a handful of novels, only to discover no one was interested. I’d rather spend one year or so writing a lot of different things, and then double down on the ones that bear fruit.

This also follows most of Gary Vee’s advice: post, post, post.

And by the way…

God help me….

It’s free.

I’ll have subscription options available for people who want more access and who want early access, yes. But otherwise, the stories will fundamentally be and stay free. My shit’s been pirated so much anyway, it’s not even worth the effort to whack every mole that pops its head up. So I may as well give it away.

I say all this with the enormous caveat that we are a two-income household, so I have a lot more room than most to manevuver. If I fail, our family won’t lose the house. This is not a process I’d recommend for someone who just stormed off the job with no safety net.

I think that’s it.

LFG.

Categories
Uncategorized

It’s The Not-Knowing: A short story + advice on novels vs. shorts

To hear the story and discussion, head to my Anchor podcast or look for it on your favorite podcasting site: https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/nLKjwbVbysb

 

IT’S THE NOT-KNOWING

by Tom Leveen

© 2022

 

A hooded figure sat at Jack’s computer when he came down that morning. Jack, quite naturally, gasped, cursed, and stepped backward at the site of the hood, bathed in the blue light of the computer monitor on the desk before it.

 

“The hell?” Jack demanded, feeling his shoulders tense up and hands clench into fists. He licked his lips, wishing for a weapon. None were at hand. Jack worked at home and was a CPA who barely watched action movies, never mind owning anything that might defend life and limb.

 

“Get out of here!”

 

His voice was weak and cracked at the end, making Jack wince. Dammit.

 

“Go on!” he tried again. “Get!”

 

Like the ominous figure was a misbehaving puppy. Predictably, the words had no effect.

 

Jack glanced behind him at the open door. Obviously, the smart move here was to run, to go back to the kitchen where he’d left his iPhone charging, and call the police. They’d deal with the intruder just fine, by God they would!

 

Only . . .

 

They wouldn’t. Jack felt this truth like knives piercing his palms and feet, pinning him to this time and this place.

 

The room was dark except for the monitor, and it cast its light against the robe and hood in a way that made a black hole where a face should have been. The tip of a nose, the glint of an eye . . . something should have shown the figure to be human, but the blank space in the hood offered no such consolation.

 

So Jack figured it was Death.

 

It sat still. Motionless. No bony hands rested on the desktop, and no brimstone odor leaked from the folds of its black robe. Still—Jack felt deeply that his guess was right.

 

Death faced forward—well, “faced” being a relative term in this case—while Jack stood just a bit to the side, so that the figure wasn’t looking at him head-on. Instead it faced the screen. From his position by the door, Jack couldn’t see what might be on it, nor could he remember what he might have left up on the screen yesterday when his workday was done.

 

An Excel sheet? Some client’s bank statement? A video game he knew spent too much time on?

 

The light never flickered, so Jack assumed it was a static image. Perhaps just his desktop, with whatever quasi-inspiring image Bill Gates’ people had seen fit to push through that day.

 

“Look,” Jack said, again trying to moisten his lips. “I get it, okay? I know who you are. So, what now, do I get another chance? Is this just a warning? Look, I’ll eat more vegetables, okay? It’s not like I smoke. I don’t even drink a lot. So, come on. Another shot, huh?”

 

Death didn’t move.

 

“Well you don’t have to be a dick about it!” Jack shouted. “If we’re going to do this, then come on, do it! I’m . . . I’m ready!”

 

Lie. Total and utter. He wasn’t ready.

 

Death didn’t make a sound.

 

Jack gripped his short hair in hands. It felt melodramatic, but hell, life didn’t get more melodramatic than this.

 

“I’m talking to you! Answer me, say something! What? What do you want?”

 

While the figure made no movement, Jack heard a stealthy, slithering sound emanating from the dark folds of the robe. Cloth rubbing together, like arms shifting. But he could see no movement.

 

It occurred to Jack then to turn on the damn overhead light, but he hesitated, afraid of what the light might reveal. What if he then could see into the hood? What sort of Lovecraftian horror might be gazing back?

 

Jack released his hair and hugged his own body tightly, pounding his right fist against his chest. “Come on! Just do it, okay? You’re here for a reason, just get it over with!”

 

No response.

 

Jack shrieked. The madness of not knowing his fate grew like a geyser of India ink in his belly and torso, swirling black and heavy. He stamped his feet like a child.

 

“What are you waiting for? I’m here, I’m right here!”

 

Death offered no new sound, no motion.

 

The strain nipped at the edges of Jack’s sanity. In an ecstasy of tension, he gripped the sleeves of his shirt and tore them away. The old fabric whispered apart in his hands.

 

“What do you want from me? Huh? Are you the Ghost of Christmas Wasted or something? Speak!”

 

At that, the hooded figure slowly turned its head.

 

It was a slow, deliberate motion that obeyed all known laws of physics, yet at the same time, the gesture had an ethereal quality to it Jack could not pinpoint. The closest thing his addled mind could compare it to was the movement of a snake, which always disgusted him; they had no legs, how could they move? Here it was the same: the figure did not have a visible structure, no bone, muscle, sinew. How could it move?

 

Despite the movement, the darkness within the hood only appeared to grow thicker, revealing nothing. No pinprick ice-blue lights for eyes, no glimmering ivory fangs. Just darkness.

 

Jack raked his fingernails down his face and screamed. “What, what, what, what?”

 

He pulled thin layers of skin off, leaving burning tracks behind. It felt good, for a moment; felt good to feel, felt good to control, felt good to hurt. Pain meant he was still here.

 

So he did it again, and again. Bellowing rage at the dark figure, Jack fell to his knees and dug his fingers into his mouth. Pulled, hard, until the thin flesh gave way in a flood.

 

“What, what, what?”

 

By the time Jack stuffed his fingers into the soft skin below his eyes, he was well and truly insane. He tore his face to pieces until dead, lying prone against the thick-pile carpet in his office. It sucked eagerly at his blood.

 

The figure observed all this without a sound. When the deed was finally done, it rose gracefully from Jack’s leather chair. The robe fell neatly into place like drapery. It moved silently across the room and stepped easily over Jack’s mutilated body.

 

It was not Death, but Death’s assassin.

 

It was the not knowing that killed them.

 

THE END

 

Be sure to let me know what you think, or ask any question about the process of short stories vs. novels. 

To the question of whether or not aspiring novelists should write short stories, I think yes. No writing is ever wasted. It all helps your craft. Some authors argue that if you want to write novels, then just do that, a lot and often. I don’t necessarily disagree, but I do feel that short story writing — particularly under “duress” like I am doing for the next three months — opens up veins of creativity that can bleed wonderously into a full-length project. For myself, getting up every morning and essentially forcing these stories is not only putting me in a better mood the rest of the day, I can feel it kickstarting old, longer ideas back up to the front of my mind, those novels that long-since gave up clamoring for my attention.

It’s time to get back to work.

Keep writing!

~ Tom