The Deadly Sin

H. Bedford-Jones, known as “The King of the Pulps” because he was so prolific, made a very decent living selling stories to the fiction magazines of his day. In today’s dollars, he was a millionaire.

He wrote for about six hours every day and had four typewriters going — each with a different story or novel. If he got stuck on one, he slid over to the next machine and started banging out more on that story.

We don’t even know exactly how much he wrote. He was a poor record keeper, and used several pen names. The current tally of his output is 231 novels, 21 novellas, 372 novelettes, and 748 short stories, plus an incredible amount of non-fiction, poetry, radio dramas, and articles. All in a 40 year career. Something over 25 million words he wrote.

So, when I came across a copy of his book This Fiction Business (revised edition, 1929) — I bought it. My thinking being this guy knew a thing or two about writing. The book is quite entertaining, very inspirational, and informative. It’s a bit dated, but the publishing industry hasn’t actually changed all that much in the 90 years since the book was published. Much of the business aspect still applies for those going the traditional publishing route.

Chapter 6 is titled “The Deadly Sin”. In this chapter, HB-J reveals the one thing that holds back new and inexperienced writers from getting published — or, in today’s indie world, from getting readers.

The deadly sin is “The lack of perception as to what must be emphasized…”.

The new writer with little experience often misses the beat when she fails to emphasize what is important in the story from the reader’s perspective.

HB-J gives the example of a friend who couldn’t sell a story, even though he had editors praise it. HB-J read the story and saw the problem right away. The writer had disposed of the climactic conflict in 2 sentences.

Readers don’t want that. They want to fight with the hero or heroine in an arduous contest, perhaps almost lose, and then come out victorious.

Ironically enough, just before reading This Fiction Business, I read a short story in an anthology where the author made the same mistake. In the span of two sentences the story went from very good to ho-hum.

The writer lost me as a reader in those two sentences. I have no desire to read anything else she’s written. I don’t have the money to waste on a book that might have a lackluster climactic scene. Not when there are plenty of very good writers to read.

The art of telling a story is to know how to pace it for the maximum effect you, the writer, want to achieve. You also need to know what your audience is going to want to spend the most time experiencing. Is it the description of a room, or an info dump of background material, or the main character locked in a battle with the villain?

Some writers just naturally know how to tell a story. They’re the ones you want to listen to sitting around the campfire. The rest of us have to learn how to tell a story. And the best way to do that is to, as Stephen King noted, read lots and write lots.

Only by writing story after story do we get the practice needed for us to learn how to tell a good story.

Only by reading story after story, written by those who know how to tell a story, will we gain the feel for how it’s done.

So now, my writing friends, go forth and sin no more.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

Rational Anarchism

Lately I’ve been reading post-apocalyptic literature (among other things). Reading how other writers envision the future when humanity has a chance to start over is always interesting, for it reveals how these writers see themselves and their fellows.

One of my first published books was The Morning Star, the first book in The Rocheport Saga. The Saga is the autobiography, as it were, of Bill Arthur, who is a survivor of an unknown plague that wiped out most of earth’s human population. He begins to gather together other survivors in an attempt to reboot civilization. But not the old one that died, a new one that is better.

Much of Bill’s political philosophy is drawn from libertarian writings. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress being one. So I thought I’d re-post one of my writings from the very early days of this blog. Let’s look once again at Rational Anarchism. Enjoy!

Nearly fifty years ago, a writer by the name of Robert A Heinlein wrote and got published a book entitled, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. One of the principal characters in the novel is Professor Bernardo de la Paz, who describes himself as a “Rational Anarchist”.

What is a Rational Anarchist? Let’s take a look, because the words rational and anarchy seem to be contradictory. A Rational Anarchist:

• Believes the state, society, and government are concepts which do not exist apart from the physical acts of self-answerable individuals.
• Believes blame, guilt, responsibility, and answerability makes it impossible for a person to shift, share, or distribute blame.
• Being rational, the rational anarchist understands not everyone shares his or her views; yet, he or she strives to live perfectly in an imperfect world; completely aware he or she is not capable of achieving perfection.
• Accepts all rules society deems necessary to secure its freedom and liberty.
• Is free no matter what the rules are in his or her society. If the rules are tolerable, he or she will tolerate them. If not, the rational anarchist will break them.
• Is free because the rational anarchist knows only he or she is morally responsible for everything he or she does.

Why do I bring this up? Because Bill Arthur in The Rocheport Saga tries to create a new world along similar lines. He begins as an anarchistic libertarian, seeking on a societal level to create the ultimate environment for freedom.  Eventually he realizes people are people. Even after a calamity which wipes out 98 out of every 100 people, those who survive haven’t essentially changed. The survivors are no different than they were before they were survivors. People want freedom, but actually crave security and will sacrifice freedom for security every time they feel insecure.

In the end, Bill Arthur becomes a Rational Anarchist. He concludes the Stoics were right over 2,000 years ago: all we can ultimately do is control ourselves.

Tell me what you think about freedom and security. Is Bill Arthur right?

Getting into Books

A writing guru whose mailing list I’m on is always advising us writers to sell the read, not the book. And that’s ultimately what we are all trying to do. Some of us just do so better than the rest of us.

As a reader, that is, of course, exactly what I want to know: where will I be going, what will I be experiencing, feeling, doing as the result of reading this book. The book I’m considering buying, or the one I bought and am considering reading.

I read fiction primarily for entertainment. If I learn something new along the way, or am given cause to stop and think for a moment — extra kudos go to the writer.

For me, reading is no different than watching TV, or a movie, or playing a video game. Except my imagination is doing the work, instead of someone else’s — and that’s what makes reading, IMO, the better form of entertainment. Even the best form. Reading is active. Videos, in all forms, are passive. And active is good. Stretching those imagination muscles is good. It’s why reading is my favorite form of entertainment.

The other day I was reading Lawrence Block’s introduction to one of the editions of Black Orchids, the ninth Nero Wolfe mystery, by Rex Stout.

Block’s observation as to why we reread the Nero Wolfe mysteries is enlightening, and I think a vital key as to why some of us really get into books. Block wrote:

I know several men and women who are forever rereading the Nero Wolfe canon. …

They do this not for the plots, which are serviceable, nor for the suspense, which is a good deal short of hair-trigger even on first reading. Nor, I shouldn’t think, are they hoping for fresh insight into the human condition. No, those of us who reread Rex Stout do so for the pure joy of spending a few hours in the most congenial household in American letters, and in the always engaging company of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin.

… we know these two, and it is a joy to see them simply being themselves.

What Block wrote describes to a T why I thoroughly enjoy rereading the Nero Wolfe mysteries. Stout wrote in such a way that we are the fly on the wall observing the goings on in that delightful brownstone.

I’d go one step further than Mr Block: any book I read is for the characters. I don’t read for the plot. One reason, I suppose, why I enjoy plotless novels. I also don’t read for the suspense, which I prefer rather low key. And I’m old enough that I probably won’t learn anything new about the human condition.

I read for the characters — pure and simple. The experience of meeting new and interesting people.

If a writer can deliver the goods, characters I can fall in love with, then he has me hook, line, and sinker. I don’t care what else is in, or not in, the book.

Unfortunately, this does not occur all that often. Most writers seem obsessed with the plot. They are too busy counting plot points or beats, writing a detailed outline, following the Hero’s Quest, or whatever other nonsense is being pushed by the writing guru of the moment.

Most writers fail to heed Bradbury’s Dictum: create your characters, let them do their thing, and there’s your story.

Fiction is not about the plot — it’s about the characters. The characters are the ones who pull us into the settings, the time period, the world they inhabit.

I cannot recall one book where I walked away remembering the plot and not the characters. Not a single one.

At base, plots are simple. There are at most just a handful of stories. They are mundane at best. But characters, like people, are complex. Everyone has an outer life and an inner life. Good characters are no different.

Which is more interesting? Tarzan, or the plot of a Tarzan novel? Dirk Pitt, or the plot of a Dirk Pitt novel? Sherlock Holmes, or the plot of a Sherlock Holmes story?

Many of us would like to get into a spaceship and fly off to other worlds. I don’t remember a single plot in Eric Frank Russell’s Men, Martians, and Machines. But I do remember the chess playing octopoid Martians, and the android Jay Score.

Good characters pull us into their world. We become one with them and experience what they experience. This is because the writer can’t give us everything. He can only suggest, and once he does our imaginations take over and do the rest.

This is not the case with even a good movie or TV episode. That’s because we’re passive. Everything is fed to us. We can only react. We are limited to what’s on the screen — which is why special effects are becoming increasingly important.

However, my imagination can do what special effects will never be able to do. My imagination is mine and makes the story live for me. Special effects are general. They target everyone, and in the end that means they shoot for the lowest common denominator. My imagination produces special effects tailored for me.

The secret to a good book lies in the characters. They make any old plot shine. Because it’s the characters who make the plot come alive. Create the characters, let them do their thing — and there is the story.

As a reader, I appreciate the wonderful characters good writers create.

As a writer, I appreciate the readers who fall in love with my characters.

No greater compliment was paid to me then when this review appeared for Trio in Death-Sharp Minor:

Some fictional universes are just places you want to be, and I have been so moved by the world CW Hawes has created for private detective Justinia Wright and her brother, Harry. … I would drop by their house any time, if only for a glass of Madeira.

Tina and Harry’s home will never top that of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. However, I will be very satisfied if I’m granted second place.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

Entertainment

Last week I talked about commercial fiction and mentioned that commercial fiction is “what most people want”. This week, I’d like to explore that notion a bit further.

Storytelling is, at base, entertainment. Fiction is merely the written extension of storytelling. Ever since human beings gathered around a fire at the end of the day, they’ve been telling each other stories. When writing was invented, the good stories were written down and thus fiction was born.

When I surveyed my mailing list subscribers not too long ago and asked why they read fiction, almost everyone who answered said it was to escape. We look for the excitement that’s lacking in our lives in the stories someone else wrote down about people with more exciting lives than our own.

H. Bedford-Jones perhaps put it best, when he wrote that the business of fiction “is simply to make its readers forget their troubles.” 

As a writer, let me confess right now that part of the reason I write is to vicariously experience the lives of the characters I create — lives far more exciting than my own.

And since I’m a reader as well, I’ll confess right now I read in order to vicariously experience things I never could in real life. I’m an armchair survivalist, adventurer, private investigator, monster hunter, you name it.

Romance novels are perhaps the best proof that fiction exists for entertainment. They are the ultimate in escapist literature. The romance novel, in all its forms, provides the reader with the perfect experience of love. We all desire to find Mr or Miss Right. And we can do so in the pages of a romance novel. When in reality we may not be so lucky.

But maybe you’re happily married, or happily settled in with your partner, and you have no need to dream about that perfect relationship. On the other hand, your job… Now that’s another story.

However, in the pages of a book, you can experience any job you want. Or you can do your job on Mars, or Delta Cygnus IV.

Don’t have a lot of money? You can in the pages of a book.

Fiction entertains us. It lets us escape from the humdrum. It lets us experience vicariously what we can’t experience in reality.

Being an avid reader and accumulator of books, I can look back and see how my interests have changed over the course of my life.

At one time dinosaurs were my passion. Then sailing ships. After that airships. I can see when my interests waxed, waned, and circled back to wax again. My science fiction and fantasy books date from when I was young. My mysteries from the 1980s. Horror, in all its various forms, goes back to my childhood, with a big upswing occurring in the 70s.

As of right now I mostly read mysteries, followed by horror. There is the occasional post-apocalyptic novel. Or space opera, or adventure story, or sea yarn. But when push comes to shove, I find myself reaching for that private eye novel, or that ghost story.

These are the stories that entertain me the most. They are the stories that provide me with a different and more exciting life.

And ten years from now? Who knows? I do know, so one thing. I’ll be reading something I find entertaining.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!