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I just started reading Anne Perry. Author of the William Monk and Thomas Pitt series –The face of a Stranger; The Cater Street Hangman—Perry is an authorial behemoth. She published her first book in 1979 (The Cater Street Hangman), introducing her series character, Thomas Pitt. Since then, she’s published dozens of novels, and is an international bestseller. At seventy-six years old, she still writes regularly, publishes often, and tours the world attending writers’ conferences and panels. In short, she’s a badass.

I wanted to use this post to talk a bit about some things I noticed that Perry did in The Face of a Stranger (1990), the first book to introduce William Monk. I have only read the first chapter so far, but there is much to be gleaned here, both as a writer, and as a book editor (in my case).

Perry writes primarily historical fiction, crime-detective novels set in Victorian late nineteenth-century England to be specific. The Face of a Stranger is set in 1856 London. Monk wakes up on page one, barely conscious, in pain at a hospital with no recollection of who he is or how he got there. As it turns out, he works as a detective for the police and got into some trouble the night before. So, in essence, we discover his reality as he does. Great plot.

“He opened his eyes and saw nothing but a pale grayness above him, uniform, like a winter sky, threatening and heavy.”

That’s the first sentence of the novel. Ok, two things I notice about this right away: One, she starts the story with ACTION. Notice how she’s not solely describing something (there is description, though); she’s not TELLING the reader anything. Instead, we have a character who is actually performing an ACTION. (I keep highlighting the word ‘action’ because, as a book editor, I notice that this is often lacking.) The character is doing something, involving movement (opening his eyes). That’s key. She allows the reader to experience this action through the character’s movement, versus using summary or ‘telling’ to report something to us. Also, she uses the active voice. Meaning that the character (‘he’ at this point) does the action, the action isn’t being done TO the character, which is passive. Passive would be if she said: “His eyes WERE open when Sally walked in.” When passive, the action is done TO the character, versus the character performing the action themselves. Readers empathize and identify more when a character DOES the action, because we can relate. We’ve probably done it, or seen it done.

“Did this man know him, or merely of him? Was he a public figure Monk ought to recognize? Or did he pursue him for some dutiful and anonymous purpose? Might he only be looking for information, or could he tell Monk something about himself more than a bare name, put flesh and memory to the bleak fact of his presence?”

The above is from page 5, and is regarding Monk thinking, wondering to himself, trying to pick up the memory pieces of his now-confusing life. What is obvious is that the narrator asks a lot of questions. I noticed that the use of internal questions were all over chapter one. Now, part of this might be due, clearly, to the plot-line: He’s woken up in a hospital without a clue who he is. Naturally, he’ll have lots of questions. But I think also, in general, a character having internal questions re the narrator is a good device. Why? Because isn’t that how the human mind operates? We constantly ask ourselves innate questions, do we not? Of course we do. And that often leads to more questions, some of which eventually get answered—accurately or not—and some of which do not. But the point is: Readers can RELATE. We can empathize. And when readers can relate and empathize…readers care. And if they care…they’ll read the whole 300 pages, as long as it’s well-written and the plot and characters stay strong and engaging.

“Were they his? Surely not; the emotions jarred on him and he found himself pulling a face at the mawkishness of the subjects, even feeling a touch of contempt.”

The above is from page 12 of the novel. My observation here is EMOTION. So we have direct, active-voice action. We have a character that has internal questions which makes him relatable. And now we have emotion, which furthers our connection to the character and continues even more our likelihood of caring and following this protagonist. Since this became a long-standing series, obviously it worked. Like a charm.

I noticed that Perry used this emotion-technique all throughout the first chapter. And what’s interesting is that she very clearly STATES the emotion. She literally uses the word ‘emotion’ perhaps half a dozen times in chapter one. Then she will describe the emotion being referred to: terror, fright, fear, anger, jealousy, sadness, shame, regret, whatever. Some novelists like to be more subtle and ‘literary’ about this touch/device—Perry is very commercial—but depending on your feelings around that, and genre books, you might take a lesson from Perry: It’s alright to concisely name the emotions your protag is dealing with. Again, we identify. IDENTIFICATION of the reader with the main character is very key. She does this strikingly. I noticed that Suzanne Collins did this same thing in The Hunger Games. Again, maybe not the best written book, but it has sold like nobody’s business. I’m not saying you should ‘copy’ Collins or Perry. I’m only suggesting you could, like myself, learn from successful authors whose books are already on the market.

Write on!

I am a developmental book editor. This means I read your manuscript and critique things like plot, pace, structure, dialog, character-development, logic issues, etc. I zoom out the camera and focus on what’s working and what’s not. I assist you in making your book shine. Interested in a free test edit? Send your first chapter and a query to: michaelmohreditor@gmail.com. I work with fiction and memoir only. No sci-fi/fantasy, children’s, or picture books. Not sure? Email me. I charge 1.8 cents/word. Check my site for more info, under ‘Editing Services.’ Right now my turnaround, due to clients, is around July/August, 2015.

Also, please check out my client Christian Picciolini’s upcoming book: ‘Romantic Violence: Memoirs of an American Skinhead.’ From racist white-power skinhead, to reformed anti-racist hero starting his own non-profit organization to fight hate (Life After Hate), follow Christian on his journey to becoming a man. His memoir comes out in late April, 2015.

“You said it. Let’s edit.”

Michael Mohr


As a book editor, the most common issue I encounter from newer writers is telling versus showing. Most of you—probably 95%—know exactly what I mean when I mention this common pitfall. And, ironically, I encountered it in my own novel about seven months ago and hired my own freelance book editor to point this out to me. So let’s address this potential hazard of the book writing realm.

First off, what is “showing versus telling?” It’s simple. Or so it seems. Here’s the easiest way to describe it. Showing is when you actually, literally “show” a character doing something and in this way you demonstrate—through action and words—their personality and emotional spectrum. Telling, in contrast, is when you literally “tell” the reader about the character’s experience.

Think about it. When someone tells you about their crappy day, how long does it take before you sort of sigh and zone out, basically at some point no longer listening? (Especially if it drones on and on.) On the other hand, if your friend walks up to the coffee shop, sits down, puts their head down in their hands and weeps openly…now they have your attention. Why is this the case? Simple. That friend has, in a very concrete way, SHOWN you how difficult of a day they are having, and we immediately empathize and want to help them.

Does the above example make sense? I cannot tell you how often I receive manuscripts that contain huge, thick blocks of text that summarize and tell the reader what the character did and said and thought, instead of allowing me to experience the story with and through the character. What readers want, always, from a good novel, from the reading experience, is ACTION. They want to feel the pain of a character’s failure, sense their joy, and fall in love with your character. In order for that to happen, you have to ditch the lengthy summary and “info dumps” and replace that with simple, concise, concrete action scenes that demonstrate who these characters are as people.

Which brings me to another point.

Showing versus telling is key, but only alongside caring and emotion. We need a novel to begin with action, with something happening in real time (meaning not back-story or summary-info-dump) but also, we need to CARE about the character at least a little and we need to experience EMOTION. If you can get us to care about your protagonist (we don’t have to like them, just care; there’s a difference) and make us feel emotions, and then you place us in a state of action, preferably with tension and conflict…well then we are going to keep reading, it’s almost a guarantee.

Back to showing versus telling. Think of novel writing—storytelling—as events that happen to other people in which certain strangers (also known as “readers”) are privy to watch. In this line of thinking, there really should be very little narrative “telling” to the reader of events because the narrator is not supposed to be aware that there is a reader in the first place. Make sense? So in other words: the characters should simply act and talk and do things that they need to do in order for the story to keep moving forward. The characters must act on their own integrity and must act according to their own true nature.

We learn so much more about characters through what they do and say than through narrative “info dump” or summary. Also, info dump and summary do something you never want to do, especially if you plan on trying to get traditionally published in 2015: they massively slow the pace. When we’re in action, the pace is moving. As long we care and there is identifiable emotion, the action will keep us flipping the pages. But once you arrive at those rough patch bumps of huge blocks of “telling text,” you’re in trouble.

Let me be clear: back-story and telling/info-dump are okay to use SOMETIMES, here and there.

Every novel needs back-story. Without it, it would be tough to truly know a character. But try to use back-story as minimally as possible. And definitely cut as much of it as possible from the first few chapters of your novel. Those first three chaps should be action-based as much as possible. This word is your best friend: SCENES. Novels move—plots—like a chain reaction from action scene to action scene. Hook us: Show personality and emotion through action (using tension and conflict), and then add back-story and a bit of telling when we’re hooked deep in the literary cheek.

To end this post I am going to demonstrate showing versus telling using a concrete example. (I’m telling you, this is the most common issue I encounter with new novelists. If you can work on this issue, you’ll be ahead of the curve.)

TELLING:

John thought long and hard about what he’d said to Maria. He felt bad. It was the kind of bad feeling that just sat there, in his mind, not moving, not going away. He had done worse things before. It wasn’t the first time, if he was honest with himself. Thinking of the last time he’d yelled at a woman about money, he began to realize to that things were in a pattern. Would he ever break free?

SHOWING:

John walked into his apartment and slammed the door. He walked over to his bed and punched the stacked-white pillow. Damn it. Hell. He’d done it again. What was wrong with him? Tears started to zigzag down his flushed red cheeks and he looked up, afraid, ashamed, swallowing and breathing slow. A knock blasted through the silence. Scrunching his face up, he stood and exhaled. He walked over to the door, his heart beating out a loud tango. Reaching for the knob, his hand trembled. He twisted the knob and opened. It was her. She looked sad and her face was contorted.

“I love you,” she said.

John said nothing. Instead, he rushed her and they embraced, clutching each other with all the fury they’d been holding back from each other for so long. It’d been five long years. Finally. They were back.

***

Ok, so the above example doesn’t necessarily demonstrate the best writing. The point is simply to demonstrate the “show vs tell” idea. Notice how with telling the pace is slow and we feel bored because it feels and reads like a typical summary? It’s simply information being conveyed. That’s fine for a nonfiction book or a college manual (and it’s fine here and there for fiction, too): but it doesn’t work 95% of the time for novels. Readers need to feel engaged. And in order to feel engaged you need to experience. You experience by being shown, not told. We experience through experience, not through instructions. Give it a shot. And if you need more help, I am available for book editing.

*** I am a developmental book editor. I focus on stuff like “show don’t tell” and much more, like focusing in on plot, structure, pace, character-development, dialogue, etc. Need an editor? I have spots open in late Spring and Summer. Check out my Client page for testimonials, my regular [Friday] blog posts for writing and editing info, and my Editing Services page for rates, descriptions of services offered, etc.

Write on.

“You said it. Let’s edit.”

Michael Mohr



“If the reader doesn’t care about your story people, he’ll never make it past the opening scene or the first chapter.”

This quote is from Chapter 8, called ‘Characters and Emotion’ of the book ‘Writing with Emotion, Tension, & Conflict: Techniques for Crafting an Expressive and Compelling Novel,’ by Cheryl St. John. What I love about this is that, in writing, one of the most fundamental and difficult things to do is to create characters that people give a crap about. Specifically, your protagonist.

My most recent novel, a suspense book, includes a protagonist who starts the novel by being released from prison. There are four different point-of-view characters and they all, according to several people who read the book, lack ‘relatability.’ This has been a big learning experience for me. When I edit someone’s novel, it’s easy for me to see, as a book editor, the flaws in their characterization. And I can point that out. If they craft a compelling character who has emotions and who has a moral compass, for the most part I can identify with that character, ergo I care what happens to that character, ergo I keep reading because I have made an emotional investment.

But, on the other hand, if I feel no real emotional connection to that character, and/or if they totally lack a moral compass or have zero relatability—in other words, if I cannot empathize with them at least a little—then, likely, I’ll stop reading. Now, literary agents, editors, and publishers know this, so you’ll rarely see a commercial or mainstream literary book on the market that doesn’t at least have some connection. But creating this connection can be a real hurdle for some writers. It has been for me.

Remember: It’s not good enough, especially in 2015, to simply create a good story, with a forceful plot, a ton of stakes, and an incredible journey complete with metaphor and symbolism. You have to add that extra layer and it comes directly out of character.

“[there is the]…importance of building inherent conflict into the characters, but we also have to build in emotional involvement for the reader.”

The above quote (again Cheryl St. John) speaks to my point. You can have a killer plot. You can have a very strong set of stakes. You can have one of the most solid settings ever revealed. But if you don’t have that emotional connection, that bond between the reader and the protagonist…you’re ultimately doomed. Think Hunger Games, or any book on the market, really. Anne Perry, Stephen King, Paul Auster, John Green (The Fault in Our Stars), Rex Pickett, whatever. You need that emotional connection to cement the reader to the character. If you rewrite and work on those first three chapters, making sure you create that bond, then readers will care and you can have more leniency in terms of the other stuff (not that that means you’re off the hook). But plot IS character; that’s the truth. Your plot doesn’t mean anything if you have flat, one-dimensional characters. Plot is the foundation upon which real, relatable, full, rich, layered and complex characters should stand.

Another thing I love about the above quote is this idea, with regard to characters, of not only that emotional connection, but, as Cheryl St. John refers to it: ‘inherent conflict.’ This is also key. Think about it. Conflict creates tension. Tension, in turn, creates a need to know for the reader. The reader wants to turn the page to find out what will happen next because there is something that’s going to happen to a character they care about. When something is going to happen to a stranger, how much do you care? For most of us, if we’re truly honest with ourselves, the answer is: not much. Right? But if something is going to happen, good or bad, to our sibling or parent, suddenly we care. That’s the selfishness and humanness of people in the world. But the point is: You have to create a character like that reader’s sibling or parent; they have to care. And from there, use that conflict to create tension, etc. Grip us, then move us.

Try rewriting some of your first chapter. Take a scene and ask yourself: Do I care about this character? If not, why do I think that’s the case? What can I do to change that feeling? Are they unlikeable? Un-relatable? Do they lack a moral compass? After you’ve figured that piece out, find that same scene or another one and ask: Does this scene have inherent conflict and tension? It doesn’t have to be obvious, clear, or physical. Tension can be very subtle and in the background. But, if the scene lacks a sense of tension, then try to add some. Like, for example, if there are two characters chatting over coffee and everything is fine, try altering that scene: Maybe they argue over something. Maybe a secret is revealed that will dramatically alter the protagonist’s perspective or life. Maybe one character is hiding something. Maybe there’s a bomb planted under the table. Maybe a third character is two tables over and is recording the conversation. Maybe there is internal/external dissonance, meaning one character is saying one thing but thinking another. Play around with this; rewrite and show it to someone you trust, asking their opinion. Maybe ask that person to read the old version against the new version; ask which they like better and ask if they can identify why.

Give it a shot.

“You said it. Let’s edit.”

Write on.

Michael Mohr

***I am a developmental book editor. I look at novels and memoir and focus on plot, structure, tone, voice, dialogue, character-development, etc. I charge 1.8 cents/word. If you are looking for this type of edit please email me: michaelmohreditor@gmail.com. My turnaround right now is July/August, 2015, unless spots open prior to then due to drop outs, which happen fairly frequently as a result of many things, including finances and lack of desire to make hefty suggested changes.

***Please check out my client Christian Picciolini’s memoir, ‘Romantic Violence: Memoirs of an American Skinhead.’ It’s the [true] story of Christian becoming the head of one of the most notorious neo-Nazi skinhead crews in America in the mid 1980s, how he got in and got out by 21, reformed his life, and became an activist. Starting the non-profit ‘Life After Hate’ in 2010, an organization that focuses on de-radicalizing extremist hate groups in the U.S., Christian has become a music industry professional as well as a social activist promoting peace, love, non-violence, and tolerance. His memoir comes out in April 28, 2015. Click here to check him out: http://www.christianpicciolini.com/


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