From the jacket...

TREAD is a thriller set during eight summer days in Arizona.

Reclusive, fifty, and hunted by the FBI for his role in the killing of an undercover agent, Nat Cinder is a rough-hewn secessionist with enough weaponry cached across Arizona to start a revolution. He finds stark blackmail photos of Arizona governor Virginia Rentier.


She wants them back. After Rentier's dirty-jobs man kills the patsy who stashed the sex shots, he targets Cinder and his son—a cocky seventeen-year-old linebacker who doesn’t know Cinder is his father.

Rentier pardons a death row inmate and sends him on a mission. The FBI is closing in on Cinder's trail. Betrayed by the woman he’s with, and driven by guilt over his wife’s death sixteen years before, Cinder discovers the photos are in his hands because his former father in law believes he will assassinate the governor.

When he learns why...



Saturday, August 1, 2009

More on Tension

Bait.

A miniature story question.

End a chapter by quickly framing a suggestion for what might follow, if the reader gets lucky. Michael Connelly does this in one of the beginning chapters of The Scarecrow.

Connelly's protagonist invites a pretty trainee out to a bar for a farewell party. Though the protagonist gives the reasons she won’t show, the reader is already lasciviously imagining that she will, and that in just a few pages, there will be some mighty juicy reading.

This technique doesn't require a new plot line. It doesn't require a dangerous setting combined with an obvious cliffhanger. All you have to do is scan your text for something that suggests the story might go in a direction the reader will find immediately satisfying. Allow your closing situation to create a tiny story question.

Be sure to allow the situation to do the asking. One thing about bait. I've never seen a successful fisherman calling out across the lake, "Hey fish, check out this big fuckin' worm. It's gonna taste real good. I promise. Just come check it out, okay? Fish?"

Well, I have. Scratch that. Just don't overdo it.

The Connelly example is perfect because he doesn't overstate the possibility of a hook up. The protagonist doesn't give a four paragraph description of the pretty girl's breasts. He doesn't drool, or give a decade of exposition on the nature of man and woman. He invites her, dismisses any likelihood that she'll show, and the chapter ends.

But you can be damn sure I turned the page.


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Tension

I'm a convert.

You can have a voice that's so real, your reader knows s/he's inside the protagonist's head. Can feel the blood circulating. Each pulse.

You can have a clever idea with a staggering twist.

But if the tension doesn't ratchet up with each paragraph, each page, each chapter, you're reader is going to become bored.

Easier said than done, right?

Not necessarily. Like editing your text down to lean, gritty meaning, increasing your story's tension follows rules. Certain words can always be edited out to make a line cleaner, and certain techniques will always increase tension.

Today, just a quick post. I'm revising two novels... you guessed it... for tension. So let me share one thing before getting back to work.

The first lesson: take a step back from the story. What is the key story question? Are you giving away the answer?

Revise your story to create the highest amount of uncertainty possible. Your reader should be frustrated by not even being able to guess an outcome. Hints tend to become heavy handed. Readers are far more intelligent than writers, and grasp the truth far sooner than you'd think. So strive for uncertainty, not planting clues. When a reader feels the answer has been thoroughly hinted at, but not resolved, she feels strung along, manipulated. Use a light touch with hints, and strive for uncertainty.

I learned this from Katherine Howell, a tremendously gifted writer who has utterly mastered suspense. Check out the link to her site, and buy one of her books. Study it.