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Novel Development From Concept to Query - Welcome to Algonkian Author Connect
Haste is a Writer's Second Worst Enemy, Hubris Being the First
AND BAD ADVICE IS SECONDS BEHIND THEM BOTH... Welcome to Algonkian Author Connect (AAC). This is a literary and novel development website dedicated to educating aspiring authors in all genres. A majority of the separate forum sites are non-commercial (i.e., no relation to courses or events) and they will provide you with the best and most comprehensive guidance available online. You might well ask, for starters, what is the best approach for utilizing this website as efficiently as possible? If you are new to AAC, best to begin with our "Novel Writing on Edge" forum. Peruse the novel development and editorial topics arrayed before you, and once done, proceed to the more exclusive NWOE guide broken into three major sections.
In tandem, you will also benefit by perusing the review and development forums found below. Each one contains valuable content to guide you on a path to publication. Let AAC be your primary and tie-breaker source for realistic novel writing advice.
Your Primary and Tie-Breaking Source
For the record, our novel writing direction in all its forms derives not from the slapdash Internet dartboard (where you'll find a very poor ratio of good advice to bad), but solely from the time-tested works of great genre and literary authors as well as the advice of select professionals with proven track records. Click on "About Author Connect" to learn more about the mission, and on the AAC Development and Pitch Sitemap for a more detailed layout.
Btw, it's also advisable to learn from a "negative" by paying close attention to the forum that focuses on bad novel writing advice. Don't neglect. It's worth a close look, i.e, if you're truly serious about writing a good novel.
There are no great writers, only great rewriters.
Forums
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Novel Writing Courses and "Novel Writing on Edge" Work and Study Forums
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Novel Writing on Edge - Nuance, Bewares, Actual Results
Platitudes, entitled amateurism, popular delusions, and erroneous information are all conspicuously absent from this collection. From concept to query, the goal is to provide you, the aspiring author, with the skills and knowledge it takes to realistically compete in today's market. Just beware because we do have a sense of humor.
I've Just Landed So Where Do I go Now?
Labors, Sins, and Six Acts - NWOE Novel Writing Guide
Crucial Self-editing Techniques - No Hostages- 47
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Art and Life in Novel Writing
Misc pearls of utility plus takeaways on craft learned from books utilized in the AAC novel writing program including "Write Away" by Elizabeth George, "The Art of Fiction" by John Gardner, "Writing the Breakout Novel" by Donald Maass, and "The Writing Life" by Annie Dillard:
The Perfect Query Letter
The Pub Board - Your Worst Enemy?
Eight Best Prep Steps Prior to Agent Query
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Bad Novel Writing Advice - Will it Never End?
The best "bad novel writing advice" articles culled from Novel Writing on Edge. The point isn't to axe grind, rather to warn writers about the many horrid and writer-crippling viruses that float about like asteroids of doom in the novel writing universe. All topics are unlocked and open for comment.
Margaret Atwood Said What?
Don't Outline the Novel?
Critique Criteria for Writer Groups- 24
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The Short and Long of It
Our veteran of ten thousand submissions, Walter Cummins, pens various essays and observations regarding the art of short fiction writing, as well as long fiction. Writer? Author? Editor? Walt has done it all. And worthy of note, he was the second person to ever place a literary journal on the Internet, and that was back in early 1996. We LOVE this guy!
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Quiet Hands, Unicorn Mech, Novel Writing Vid Reviews, and More
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Novel Writing Advice Videos - Who Has it Right?
Archived AAC reviews of informative, entertaining, and ridiculous novel writing videos found on Youtube. The mission here is to validate good advice while exposing terrible advice that withers under scrutiny. Members of the Algonkian Critics Film Board (ACFB) include Kara Bosshardt, Richard Hacker, Joseph Hall, Elise Kipness, Michael Neff, and Audrey Woods.
Stephen King's War on Plot
Writing a Hot Sex Scene
The "Secret" to Writing Award Winning Novels?- 91
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Writing With Quiet Hands
All manner of craft, market, and valuable agent tips from someone who has done it all: Paula Munier. We couldn't be happier she's chosen Algonkian Author Connect as a base from where she can share her experience and wisdom. We're also hoping for more doggie pics!
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Unicorn Mech Suit
Olivia's UMS is a place where SF and fantasy writers of all types can acquire inspiration, read a few fascinating articles, learn something useful, and perhaps even absorb an interview with one of the most popular aliens from the Orion east side.
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Crime Reads - Suspense, Thrillers, Crime, Gun!
CrimeReads is a culture website for people who believe suspense is the essence of storytelling, questions are as important as answers, and nothing beats the thrill of a good book. It's a single, trusted source where readers can find the best from the world of crime, mystery, and thrillers. No joke,
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Audrey's Archive - Reviews for Aspiring Authors
An archive of book reviews taken to the next level for the benefit of aspiring authors. This includes a unique novel-development analysis of contemporary novels by Algonkian Editor Audrey Woods. If you're in the early or middle stages of novel writing, you'll get a lot from this. We cannot thank her enough for this collection of literary dissection.
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New York Write to Pitch and Algonkian Writer Conferences 2024
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New York Write to Pitch 2023 and 2024
- New York Write to Pitch "First Pages" - 2022, 2023, 2024
- Algonkian and New York Write to Pitch Prep Forum
- New York Write to Pitch Conference Reviews
For New York Write to Pitch or Algonkian attendees or alums posting assignments related to their novel or nonfiction. Assignments include conflict levels, antagonist and protagonist sketches, plot lines, setting, and story premise. Publishers use this forum to obtain information before and after the conference event, therefore, writers should edit as necessary. Included are NY conference reviews, narrative critique sub-forums, and most importantly, the pre-event Novel Development Sitemap.
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Algonkian Writer Conferences - Events, FAQ, Contracts
Algonkian Writer Conferences nurture intimate, carefully managed environments conducive to practicing the skills and learning the knowledge necessary to approach the development and writing of a competitive commercial or literary novel. Learn more below.
Upcoming Events and Programs
Pre-event - Models, Pub Market, Etc.
Algonkian Conferences - Book Contracts
Algonkian Conferences - Ugly Reviews
Algonkian's Eight Prior Steps to Query
Why do Passionate Writers Fail?- 243
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Algonkian Novel Development and Writing Program
This novel development and writing program conducted online here at AAC was brainstormed by the faculty of Algonkian Writer Conferences and later tested by NYC publishing professionals for practical and time-sensitive utilization by genre writers (SF/F, YA, Mystery, Thriller, Historical, etc.) as well as upmarket literary writers. More Information
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Forum Statistics
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The State of the Crime Novel, Part 1: Writing Life
Once again, the Edgar Awards are upon us, and once again, I’ve had the privilege of asking dozens of great writers to contribute to our annual roundtable discussion on the state of the genre. This year’s roundtable, like in previous years, is divided into two parts: the first, running today, is focused on craft advice and the writing life, while the second, running tomorrow, will address issues in the genre and the future of crime writing. Thanks so much to the more than 30 nominees who sent in thoughtful, fascinating, and often hilarious responses. The award ceremony is this Wednesday night, and you’ll be able to follow along on social media as winners are announced or take a look at CrimeReads first thing on Thursday morning. __________________________________ What is your advice for writers who are just starting out? And what’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever gotten? __________________________________ William Kent Krueger (nominated for Best Novel – The River We Remember): First piece of advice: Write every day, and write because you love it, not because you hope you’ll get rich and famous from the effort. Second piece of advice: Marry someone with a good job. The best piece of advice given to me when I was about to become a published author was to get to know the booksellers. If the booksellers like you and appreciate your work, they’ll sell you like crazy and spread the word. I found this to be true. Susan Isaacs (nominated for the Sue Grafton Memorial Award – Bad, Bad Seymour Brown): Writing may be an art. It is certainly a craft. But also it’s a job. You have to put in regular hours and go to work whether you feel like it or not. You already may be working one job and even have another as parent or caregiver, so how can you possibly do it? By figuring out a schedule that’s doable, albeit hard. Three nights a week for three hours, or even two. Every Saturday or Sunday. Whatever. Yes, it will take longer, but it will get done if you stick to your schedule. You have to work and not get sidetracked reading How to Write Fiction That’s Fabulous and Will Make You Megabucks during your writing hours. That time is for writing your own book. The best piece of writing advice I’ve ever gotten, I gave to myself. One day I was musing on how interesting it was that speaking aloud converted swarming thoughts into coherent ideas: like with talk therapy, or the Catholic sacrament of confession. So I turned to some dialogue that didn’t feel natural the way I’d written it. I spoke it out loud, which actually was beyond hard. I was embarrassed, even though there was no one in the house but me and the dog, and the latter was not at all judgmental. The technique worked for me. I have also used talking to interrogate a character: “Why are you doing that?” I ask aloud. Not rude, not amiable. Just a matter-of-fact question. Answered that way too. Okay, your character may hesitate or mutter I don’t know. Be patient, then ask again. Listen, this is as awkward for them as it is for you. But trust me, they’ll talk. April Henry (nominated for Best Young Adult – Girl Forgotten): When you start out, there is almost always a lot of rejection. But the only person who can say you can’t do something is you, when you give up. When I was a teenager who loved to write, I decided that there was no way someone like me, a poor girl from a logging town, could be a writer. But that decision meant I never would be a writer, because I stopped writing. I finally came to my senses in my early 30s. The best piece of writing advice I’ve ever gotten is: “You can always edit crap. You can’t edit nothing.” Tracy Clark (nominated for Best Paperback Original – Hide): Learn the craft. You have to know the rules to break the rules. Take your writing seriously. Commit to it. Once you have the foundation set, then you can really let yourself fly. Go for it! Yvonne Woon (nominated for Best Young Adult – My Flawless Life): Be fueled by rejection. It isn’t enough to grow a thick skin, you have to convert rejection into motivation. So much of my writing when I first started out was not good, and plenty of people told me so (via workshop critiques, magazine rejections, fellowship rejections, acquisition rejections, negative reviews). Though they were painful to receive, they were also helpful, and in most cases, right. At the time, I’d read somewhere about writers taping their rejections to the wall, so that’s what I did, too, and every day I looked at those rejections and said, “I’ll show you what I can do,” and tried to get better. In terms of craft, I’ve received a lot of incredible advice, but the ones I use the most are: -Your character has to want something in every scene. -End each scene with the start of a new action. -So much of writing is endurance and practice. No work can get done until you put your butt in the chair. Robert Morgan (nominated for Best Critical/Biographical – Fallen Angel: The Life of Edgar Allan Poe): My advice to young writers is one word: persistence. I’ve taught writing for fifty years, and many of those who seemed more talented have not gone on to become writers, while some who appeared less gifted at first have succeeded. Everyone has some writing ability, but it’s those with fire in the belly, relentless, who reach the goal. This is true of all the arts, whether country music, acting, or film directing. The best advice ever given to me about novel writing came from my friend Alison Lurie: if you have living characters, find a passive gear and let them take over. Rob Osler (nominated for Best Short Story – “Miss Direction,” Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine): Imagine a clock that measures time in months, not minutes or hours, and reset your expectations accordingly. Jennifer J. Chow (nominated for the Lillian Jackson Braun Memorial Award – Hot Pot Murder): I’d find community even while pre-published. The writing journey can be bumpy, and it’s essential to have support along the way. The best piece of advice I’ve ever received? Compare yourself with yourself. Think about your personal goals from several years ago to better perceive your current achievements. Samantha Jayne Allen (nominated for the Sue Grafton Memorial Award – Hard Rain): Life is long and you never know what might change. And also, life is short, so be present knowing that the writing and the joy you experience in the act of creation are kind of the whole point. The best advice I’ve ever gotten was from my former professor, Tom Grimes, whose feedback on a workshop submission once was just two words: “keep going.” Finishing my novel’s first draft and worrying about the rest later was the message, but I think “keep going” applies to the writing life generally, to the importance of having faith in yourself. Lina Chern (nominated for the Mary Higgins Clark Award – Play the Fool): This advice is not just for new writers, but for any writers, and especially for myself, because I forget: Have fun. Writing, while often difficult and frustrating, should be fun. Very few of us will get rich and famous doing it, so if you’re not having fun, why do it at all? We all go through periods where, for whatever reason, the writing doesn’t come easily. Work out a set of tools for those times, that make you reconnect with the fun. The tools will vary writer to writer. For me, it often works to step back from whatever stage of the process I’m mired in and doodle some longhand notes about the story —almost like a journal. Often, that’s enough to make me excited again about what I’m trying to do, or show me a new way to do it. Other tools could be taking a walk, or changing your work location, or leaving a particularly difficult passage alone and working on a different one. Find whatever works for you, and do it until the fun comes back. It always does! Sarah Stewart Taylor (nominated for the Sue Grafton Memorial Award – A Stolen Child): The longer I write, the less I feel equipped to give advice! There is no one right way to accomplish the nearly impossible task of writing and revising a novel—90,000 words or more containing a whole universe of people and places and things! Just think of it!—and finding the process that works for you takes time and a lot of trial and error. I’m skeptical of anyone who claims to have a surefire “Ten Steps to Finishing your Novel” formula, but I do love talking to other writers about their approaches. Hearing that a friend uses index cards to keep track of scenes or that a writer I admire doesn’t allow herself to edit anything until her first draft is done helps me see my own process in a different way. So here’s a piece of advice: be in community with other writers in order to learn. And, also, writer friends will save your soul and your sanity. No one else truly understands what it’s like. Make some writer friends! I also feel passionately that writers must be readers. Really study the novels you love, figure out why they work and why they work for you. The best piece of advice I ever got was from my amazing editor, Kelley Ragland. Years ago she told me that the only parts of this whole thing the writer really has control over are whether they write another book and the quality of that book. It’s such good advice. If you want to write for a long time, you always have to put the work in progress first and use it as the lodestar as all the other parts of the business swirl around you. “Imagine a clock that measures time in months, not minutes or hours, and reset your expectations accordingly.” –Rob Osler Mary Winters (nominated for the Mary Higgins Clark Award – Murder in Postscript): It isn’t a piece of writing advice, per se, but guidance a history professor gave me long ago. He said don’t be afraid of something because it’s hard. I’ve found it to be true with writing. Whether it’s a short story that touches a memory or a novel that includes a complicated plot or daunting research, I’ve gained the most satisfaction from projects that require the most from me. I.S. Berry (nominated for Best First Novel – The Peacock and the Sparrow): Pick a story you love, that you can live with through the ups and downs (of which there’ll be many). A story’s like a relationship: some days, you can’t stand it, you’ll fight with it, so pick a partner you’ll still love in the morning. Find your readers. Don’t set a goal of selling as many books as humanly possible (though, of course, that’s always nice); try to get your book into the hands of readers who will love it, with whom it will resonate. It’s a rare book that appeals to everyone, and when you find the readership that clicks, you’ve hit the jackpot. Jennifer Cody Epstein (nominated for Best Novel – The Madwomen of Paris): I know a lot of writers swear by routine—”write every day!” “Hit that daily word count!” Those are certainly great habits to form. But in practice they aren’t always attainable, and for me they can actually increase the psychic burden of producing (which is already pretty damn heavy) by making me feel “behind” in a project before I’ve even started working on it. My advice is instead to take a longer view. Allow yourself to try and fail to write sometimes, and to recognize that chopping out 500 words can be more valuable than writing 1000. Recognize that sometimes mulling and stewing and brainstorming and scrawling notes and spewing seemingly nonsensical voice-memos is also a valuable, even essential, part of the long-term process of The Work. And in terms of writing advice, one of my MFA mentors told me that nothing you cut from a piece should ever be seen as wasted words. Your work will always be stronger for having written that bit, reconsidered it, and taken it out. Also, don’t feel compelled to delete anything forever—you can murder your darlings, sure. But you can also keep them in a file for inspiration and repurposing later on. That’s always felt strangely comforting to me as a writer. Claire Swinarski (nominated for Best Juvenile – What Happened to Rachel Riley?): Quantity, quantity, quantity. New writers need to write a lot in order to really find their voice and break out of just trying to copy what other writers before them have done. The only way to improve your writing is to practice consistently and learn what works for you and what doesn’t. The best piece of writing advice I’ve ever gotten is to focus on really small assignments. Sitting down and thinking “today, I’m going to write a book” is ridiculously intimidating. Reframing it as “today, I’m going to describe this character’s kitchen” or “today, I’m going to tackle this specific conversation between these two characters” is so much more doable, and totally transformed my writing process. Ritu Mukerji (nominated for Best First Novel – Murder by Degrees): My advice to new writers: read the depth and breadth of this wonderful genre. There is such creativity and diversity in narrative, plot, character. It is the best education. And the best writing advice I received was to write at the same time every day, so that your mind would become conditioned to working at a specific time, no matter what. The consistency created creative momentum. Linda Castillo (nominated for Best Short Story – “Hallowed Ground”): It’s almost a cliché to tell a writer who is starting out to not give up, but that is always my best advice. Writing is hard. While writing a novel is a long and arduous journey, the writing business is even more difficult. When times are tough, when the writing isn’t going well and everyone and their dog is rejecting you, it is our love for our story that gets us to our laptop every day. Writing is our escape. It is our refuge. Sometimes it is our revenge—and that’s okay as long as you get it done. The best piece of advice I ever received is this: When the writing is going poorly or you are stuck, allow yourself to write badly. Get the words on paper even if they suck. You can always edit later. Anastasia Hastings (nominated for the Mary Higgins Clark Award – Of Manners and Murder): It’s a tough business, and you have to be tough, too. Getting published can take a very long time and usually, the road to publication is lined with rejection. Keep trying, keep plugging away. Don’t give up. Sean McCluskey (nominated for the Robert L. Fish Memorial Award – “The Soiled Dove of Shallow Hollow,” Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine): Obviously, write. It’s easy to wander down the rabbit hole of taking courses, reading how-to books, and watching author interviews, and that all feels like you’re doing something productive. In reasonable doses, it is productive. But none of it’s a substitute for writing and rewriting. Speaking of rewriting, I think that’s where the important work gets done. I compare writing a first draft to cutting down a tree–just get the damn thing on the ground! But then you have to saw it into planks, carve them into pieces, and assemble the wood into the furniture you want. Then sanding, varnishing, polishing, and more woodworking metaphors than I have the knowledge to deliver. As for the mechanics of storytelling, I was once told to keep asking or implying questions with your writing, and promising your reader that they’ll get the answers if they just keep reading. That teacher told me every word, every line, every paragraph, and every page has only one job: make the reader want to read the next one. Because if they stop caring about what happens next, they put the book down and it never, ever does. Ken Jaworowski (nominated for Best First Novel – Small Town Sins): When I wrote for the theater, I’d sometimes sit among the audience to make sure my script was engaging them. Yet when I’d write an (ultimately unpublished) novel, I’d sometimes turn self-indulgent and forget all about my audience. Then one day I read a quote from Scott Smith, the author of “A Simple Plan.” He said: “I was fearful of boring the reader, so whenever it became a question of exploring some moral dimension or driving the plot on, I went with the latter.” That made everything click. Whether I was writing for the theater, or for a novel reader, or for anyone, the end result should always be the same: Never forget that you and your audience are a team. Patricia Johns (nominated for the Lillian Jackson Braun Memorial Award – Murder of an Amish Bridegroom): Don’t give up! That is my best advice I can give to anyone. If you keep writing, keep submitting and keep trying, you will eventually find a way. Too many writers give up because it’s hard, and rejection hurts. But if you keep trying, you’ll become a stronger writer, too. So keep at it, and never look at the odds. __________________________________ What is your favorite method for writing? __________________________________ Jennifer Cody Epstein: OMG—computer. Hands down! I’m a relentless re-editor (and also can’t even read my own handwriting), so it just makes the most sense. Scott Von Doviak (nominated for Best Paperback Original – Lowdown Road): I’m a pen and pad guy all the way. It seems like most of my friends in the field have a routine of getting up at five in the morning, pouring a cup of coffee, and putting on some ambient music or just opting for dead silence as they sit at the laptop and get to work. And that’s great if it works for them! But I’m a Happy Hour writer. Give me a dive bar, a great jukebox, a cold beer, and life happening around me. That’s where my first drafts come together. I can fix the mistakes at the laptop later, but I thrive on that initial burst of energy. Tracy Clark: Laptop. Laptop. Laptop. I’ve got to feel the keys under my fingers. Pens and pencils are way too quiet. April Henry: I write in Scrivener on a Mac, but the key part of my writing is that I write on a LifeSpan treadmill desk. I bought it 10 years ago and it is one of my favorite purchases ever. My posture is better, I feel I think more clearly, and after I got it, I lost weight without even trying. Claire Swinarski: I’m a classic Microsoft Word girl, but I am fairly consistent with writing in order. I don’t like to skip around throughout the timeline while writing. I’ve found it helps me understand where things are slow-moving or lacking—if I’m dreading writing a scene because it feels boring, it’s almost certainly going to read boring, so how can I eliminate it? I typically know the main events throughout a book before starting, but I don’t really dive into a book until I have the perfect first chapter crafted. “The story began in my head, traveled through my heart, down my arm and hand, and flowed from the pen onto the page.”–William Kent Krueger William Kent Krueger: I wrote my first nine novels longhand. It was part of the magic. The story began in my head, traveled through my heart, down my arm and hand, and flowed from the pen onto the page. But writing longhand requires that, at some point, you must transcribe the work into a word processing system of some kind, which takes time. I was behind deadline on my tenth novel, and I thought if I could write directly to my computer and skip the transcribing step, maybe I could turn the manuscript in on time. Giving up the magic of longhand was a scary proposition. But it worked. Now I write on a laptop. Yvonne Woon: I start every project by plotting and brain dumping ideas into a notebook. I only plot in long hand and am particular about my notebooks. They can’t be fancy or expensive or I’ll feel I have to “save them” for better thoughts. Can’t be too big or I can’t carry them around with me. I like medium-sized, clearance-section notebooks at Target that are meant for teenagers. In those notebooks I map out my characters and form a “blob plot” of a book, which usually has 5-6 events that I want to book to cover and gives me a loose understanding of what the book will look like. Then I figure out what has to happen in chapters 1-3. Once I have a general idea, I move to my laptop and start writing. My computer situation is very basic. Microsoft word. Kitchen table, sometimes the bed. I can write basically anywhere as long as I have earplugs. Samantha Jayne Allen: Ideally, on my laptop, at my desk, with a journal beside me for handwritten notes and stray thoughts. Since having my daughter, who’s now two, I’ve had to be more flexible—I’ve written whole chapters in the notes app on my phone while holding her during her nap. I think not being so tied to a certain way of getting the words down has been good for me. It’s refreshing to change up your method sometimes, like the equivalent of going for a walk or cleaning the kitchen when you’re stuck with a plot problem. Ritu Mukerji: I am a perennial fan of Google docs for writing the manuscript, certainly for anything longer than a page or two. But given that I spend a lot of time thinking about the 19th century, I often resort to pen and notebook, especially when I feel stuck. Writing longhand is a great way to work through knotty problems. Robert Morgan: I usually write first drafts in a spiral notebook, in my odd combination of printing and long-hand. There is a kind of intimacy with the page and the physical world while putting down words with a pen, slow and deliberate. Writing is a kind of acting, and that physicality is useful to me. For the second draft I go to the laptop, revising as I proceed. For additions I follow the same process. Katherine Hall Page (2024 Grand Master): I wrote the first book, The Body in the Belfry (1989) on an Underwood typewriter and graduated to an IBM Selectric for the next two before acquiring a Mac. I still use Apples, but throughout I’ve also stuck to pad-and-pencil—more specifically, Clairefontaine graph paper (to keep my writing legible) notebooks. I start by listing the cast of characters, new and old, with reminders of age, distinguishing features, then as I write I make a timeline, list each chapter’s first and last lines, brief notes on what happens in each chapter as I write, and notes on the research, the fun part. So distracting a rabbit hole, it’s hard to get back to actual writing my own book. Since there are original recipes at the end of each book, drafts of these go in the notebooks as well. At the start of each day, I rewrite what I have written the day before. At the end of a chapter, I print it out and rewrite using a pencil, transfer the changes to the computer and keep going until eventually the book is finished. I write a synopsis at the start to go over with my editor, but this skeleton of the book often changes. I always know who gets it and who did it. Ken Jaworowski: You can write anywhere, anytime, and I do. Sometimes I’ll sit at my laptop and write for an hour. Then I’ll go to the post office and think of a fresh idea, so I’ll use the recording app on my cell phone to speak into. Later, at the library, I’ll recall something I wanted to add to a chapter, and I’ll email myself. Even if you think of a single good line of dialogue while eating at a fast-food restaurant, that’s writing, and that’s a little victory. Lina Chern: I have specific methods of writing for specific parts of my writing process. When I’m brainstorming or trying to tell myself the story or just generally trying to make something out of nothing, I have to write longhand. Something about the sensation of pen-to-paper, and the overall slower speed allows me to disappear into the story and tap into that subconscious space where the good stuff lives. This part of the process is where the biggest and most satisfying surprises come, and the part I often return to when I’m stuck or need a jolt of fun to keep myself motivated. Revisions I do digitally, because during that part of the process my brain wants to work more quickly and consciously. I.S. Berry: I type everything on the computer. Haven’t done longhand since before the internet. But I print everything when I edit. Maybe because I grew up without computers, words just read differently to me on a physical page than a screen. Sentences have a different cadence, and I catch errors and syntax problems in hard copy that I wouldn’t catch digitally. Carol Goodman (nominated for the Mary Higgins Clark Award – The Bones of the Story): I write my first drafts long-hand in composition notebooks and then type up, chapter by chapter, on my laptop, editing as I go along. Writing by hand lets me feel freer and more experimental in the first draft because I know I’ll be cleaning things up later. It also keeps me away from the internet while I’m writing. Sean McCluskey: I can’t imagine writing longhand. When it came to teaching penmanship, the nuns certainly failed me (though I don’t doubt they did their damnedest). For me it’s all laptop, all day. Although, oddly, it’s rarely on my lap. __________________________________ What is the key to crafting compelling characters? __________________________________ I.S. Berry: Complexity. For characters to be full-bodied, I think they need to be morally murky, or at least variegated; to make decisions and take actions that aren’t obvious, that make readers think. When I write, I create a backstory for each character—even if it never shows up on the page—to make them more three-dimensional and inform the character’s decisions. Sean McCluskey: I try to stop worrying about whether the character is likable, or even relatable, and focus on whether or not they’re interesting. Is this someone I want to watch doing things, good or bad? Do I want to spend time in this character’s head, even if it’s an ugly and scary place? ” The key, I think, is to go small, not big. Go inner, not outer. You want to build your book people from the inside out.” –Tracy Clark Tracy Clark: The key, I think, is to go small, not big. Go inner, not outer. You want to build your book people from the inside out. You’re tapping into emotions and inner thoughts. You’re grabbing onto a character’s flaws and struggles, their hurdles and challenges. You give them weight and a pebble in their shoe and then put them into a situation and see how they’ll handle it. Series give you more room to explore a character’s arc. You follow your characters’ drama from book to book to see how they change and adapt … or don’t. Samantha Jayne Allen: One way to do this is to make your characters feel real: give them a rich inner life, a lived-in voice. But most of all, a compelling character is a character that wants or needs something. To solve the case, get paid, avenge their best friend’s murder, etc. The reader should understand the character’s desires or even share them—the reader is then rooting for them to get what they want (or that they don’t!) and is thus invested in the story’s outcome. I think with a series you simply have more room to play, and for loose ends, whereas in a standalone the arc is somewhat completed at the end of the novel. A lot of series novels have multiple arcs for their main characters: one for each book, another that is overarching and that is possibly not resolved for many books, and at which point the series might end. William Kent Krueger: A good story isn’t so much about what happens, but more about who it happens to. I believe compelling characters are those that feel most real to us, those who are deeply flawed, as we all are. It seems to me that characters who, despite their flaws, struggle to follow some moral compass tend to have a greater hold on our hearts, to stay with us longer. Of course, in a series, there’s so much more space to explore all the niches of a protagonist’s psyche, so much more time for a character to grow. On the other hand, a dynamic character in a standalone can, like a branding iron, leave a deep and abiding impression on a reader. One and done can be a tremendously effective approach. AF Carter (nominated for Best Paperback Original – Boomtown): I really don’t `craft’ my characters. I begin with a rather vague impression of their various attributes, including gender, job, marital status, children, education etc. Then, ever the optimist, I start clicking away at my keyboard and hope for the best. I can be more specific with regard to the second question, about series vs. standalones. Once past the first volume of a series, there’s no winging it. Recurring characters are already defined and editors have long memories. You have to go with the ones who brung ya. This commonly leads to a complication as the volumes add up. You can’t assume the reader of any particular book, has read the others. Thus, you’re more or less required to deliver some backstory for each recurring character and that can slow the pace, sometimes drastically. I deal with this in the Delia Mariola series I’m currently writing, by creating a pair of “vice-protagonists”. These are characters who get a lot of space, though not so much as Delia. At the end of the novel, they move on. Perhaps they leave town to begin again somewhere else, or are arrested, or even killed. Fresh characters offer fresh perspectives, and keep the author (and, hopefully, the reader) involved. You don’t know what they’re going to do next, because you’ve never encountered them before. Again, this is as important to this author as it might be to readers. Ritu Mukerji: I think a series is the perfect vehicle for character development–I always thought of Murder by Degrees as the start of a series. For my main character, Dr. Lydia Weston, I created an extensive backstory. I included little details: what did she like to wear, eat, read. And then the larger theme of how her past experiences and childhood shaped her. As I wrote the book, it helped me anticipate how she would behave in certain situations. Equally important is the villains–thinking through their character and motivation is so vital to understand what would drive them to commit a horrific crime. Anastasia Hastings: Lots more latitude in a series, lots more time to have a character grow and change. Stand alone? You’ve got maybe 100,000 to make a character come alive for readers. In a series that might go on for 10 or 12 or more books, there are many more words to work with. What is the key? So many answers to that one! If I had to choose one, I’d say voice, that special something in the writing that reveals character. It’s all about word choice, the cadence of their dialogue, the way their internal monologue is written. When it’s done well, characters fly off the page! Rob Osler: With a short story nominated and as a writer of a novel series, I’ll come at this from a short story versus long perspective. In a short story, there’s practically no time for a protagonist’s personal growth. It’s all a writer can do to create a compelling character, set up the crime, introduce the suspects and resolve the mystery within a short word count. However, at the other end of the spectrum, with a series, the author has a long runway for character evolution. Whatever personal improvement and enlightenment the hero achieves in a particular book can’t be 100 percent. Instead, the character is on a long journey toward self-betterment and understanding throughout many installments. Sarah Stewart Taylor: When I taught creative writing, I would have my students do an exercise where they had to pick one of their close friends and write about the first time they met them. What were the writer’s first impressions of the friend? What was their initial dynamic with the friend? Then I would have them write a couple of scenes set in subsequent years showing how their impressions changed as they got to know the person better. Were their initial impressions correct? What did they learn that deepened their understanding of their friend? Showing that kind of evolution in perception and in the dynamic between two people is one of my favorite things about characterization. There is such pleasure in developing that evolution over the course of multiple series installments. A character can be one thing in one book and something else entirely in another. Standalones can show significant character development and satisfying arcs as well, of course, but I love the way a series can represent all the eras and stages in a human life. It’s so satisfying to me. Linda Castillo: A writer must possess intimate knowledge of his character. He must know his character’s deepest, darkest fears, his opinions—flawed or imperfect or not—and he must understand what drives his character forward. The human psyche is infinite, which gives a writer much fodder. Use it. When writing a long running series, character growth is a key element. It’s vital to maintain that growth to keep the series fresh. Each book in a series contains a character arc and for a long running series that arc is expansive. One last personal note: I love writing imperfect characters. They are interesting and unpredictable and can be such fun. That said, there are certain lines that should not be crossed. Know what those lines are because they could edge a highly-flawed sympathetic character into irredeemable territory. __________________________________ How do you balance between educating and entertaining when it comes to nonfiction? __________________________________ Robert Morgan: This is one of the most difficult questions to answer about writing literary biography. A good biography requires a lot of research, but if the biography relies mostly on facts and interpretations others have already made familiar, the work will be neither educational nor entertaining. The narrative must have fresh facts and new interpretations. Lyton Strachey once observed that ignorance could be an important asset to a historian. An author who knows everything already will not understand what a reader needs to know to appreciate the unfolding story. A good biography will communicate the excitement of discovery and new understanding, and readers will be entertained. If the biographer feels no thrill of insight and interpretation, the reader will not either. Steven Powell (nominated for Best Critical/Biographical – Love Me Fierce in Danger: The Life of James Ellroy): Entertaining is rather easy in James Ellroy’s case: his life is so dramatic! Applying the facts to the narrative of Ellroy’s life in a clear and concise manner does the work for you. There’s no need to sensationalize. In fact, a few of Ellroy’s claims seemed questionable, and scrutinizing them with all the available evidence makes for fascinating reading. Additionally, when you have a charismatic, larger-than-life subject such as James Ellroy it’s gripping to hear the testimony of the people who have known him. I spoke to over eighty friends, colleagues and partners of Ellroy and it was important to me to include their voices, as they gave a portrait of Ellroy very different to the Demon Dog persona he has worked so hard to cultivate. __________________________________ What is a moment that sticks out in your research journey? Was there a particularly odd factoid or archive you’d like to highlight? __________________________________ Steven Powell: I discovered the identity of Jean Ellroy’s first husband, which even James Ellroy didn’t know. James only knew of him as ‘the Spalding Man’ and thought he was the heir to the Spalding Sporting Goods fortune. He was, in fact, Easton Ewing Spaulding, a real estate heir. Ellroy had misspelled his name by a single letter and, consequently, was never able to track him down. Solving this mystery helped me to earn Ellroy’s trust and persuaded him to cooperate on the biography. I also think, in the long-term, that the more mysteries we can solve about Jean Ellroy’s life the closer we will get to solving her murder. Robert Morgan: When I was examining the Poe material at the Enoch Pratt Memorial Library in Baltimore I got to hold letters written by Elmira Royster Shelton, Poe’s first and last fiancee, to his aunt and mother-in-law, Maria Clemm, just before and after Poe’s death in 1849. Looking at the fine handwriting, the sophisticated phrasing, the kindness, I understood, as I had not before, the depth of the bond between Edgar and Elmira, her importance as muse and inspiration for “The Raven.” Another discovery, as I re-read “The Gold-Bug,” was that Poe had placed the landscape and flora around Charlottesville, Virginia, on the swampy coast of South Carolina, combining two places in the South he knew well. More significant was my discovery that Poe was a poet of the natural world as well as of horror and crime. In “The Domain of Arnheim” and several other stories he celebrates the splendor and mystery of forests and streams, adding to the astonishing range of his achievement. Even more important, I found that Dr. Snodgrass’s account of finding Poe near death in a tavern in Baltimore was part of his temperance lectures. Snodgrass used Poe’s death as a warning against the evils of alcohol. Poe had taken a pledge to never drink again, and others who saw Poe in those last days made no mentions of alcohol. Poe more likely died of tuberculosis of the brain. One clue to Snodgrass’s bias was his statement that Poe was wearing cheap clothes when found. Though dirty, Poe’s coat and pants were made of alpaca and cashmere. View the full article -
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Crime Novels with a Sense of Place and Manners
Write what you know, they say. A tall order if you’re writing about a serial killer. Most serial killers don’t take the time to sit down and write crime fiction—harder to plot a crime than simply do it, I would think, particularly once you’ve figured it out and are on a roll—but there’s a thought: a serial killer who writes crime novels. Otherwise, you do your research for that part of it. There are writers who have a great idea, a plot, a construct with a shocking twist, and set it in a generic landscape anywhere. But for me, the most satisfying crime fiction are stories that spring from a particular place and the people who live there; a place and manners the author knows well; stories that could not happen anywhere else. What I know, in recent years, is the life of a single parent in small town Maine. Being a parent is the sum of all my fears now: that something could happen to my child. Particularly as that child enters the teen years, if he or she has trouble in school and out of school, and you don’t always know where he or she is. And in Maine: Stephen King country; a beautiful rural state of forests and bogs and a rocky coast, full of dark promise. Here are some novels whose crimes and mysteries grow out of place and manners: Jane Harper; The Dry, etc; Tana French; In the Woods, etc Both of theses authors are excellent, well known, and in similar ways have staked out their turf. Jane Harper’s novels are set in Australia, beginning with The Dry, three of them featuring her detective Aaron Falk, others are stand-alone mysteries. Usually involving cold cases—not always murders, sometimes deaths resulting from tragic relationships—Harper’s slow-burn but cinematically rendered stories unwrap layers of Australian communities, family secrets, broken friendships that are defined by landscapes both beautiful and harsh. Tana French’s stories are set in Ireland. Like Harper, she has a series of novels, The Dublin Murder Squad, beginning with her debut, In The Woods, that feature returning detective characters, with revolving points of view, and stand-alone novels with new characters. Like Harper, her stories are slow-burners: an inciting incident draws the reader in, and the long, deliberate development of her plots is sustained by the convincing details of place, characters, and the quality of French’s writing. Louise Welsh; The Cutting Room Less well known, more striking in location and character, is Scottish writer Louise Welsh’s debut novel The Cutting Room. Her protagonist is the grim, saturnine auctioneer, Rilke, who finds snuff porn photographs among the property of a dead man, and sets out to learn the story behind the photos. The photos are almost a MacGuffin for Welsh to take us through Rilke’s world of vividly described alcoholic auctioneers and gay sex hookups in a dismal, gothic Glasgow. Welsh’s writing, characters, and setting of place transcend genre writing into literary fiction. She has authored six crime novels, including most recently a sequel to The Cutting Room, The Second Cut, where we meet Rilke, still alive, 20 years on. Georges Simenon; , Maigret; Dirty Snow, and the romans durs The fantastically prolific—over 400 novels—Belgian writer Georges Simenon was most famous for his French police detective Jules Maigret, for whom he wrote 75 novels and 28 short stories—almost double the appearances of Hercule Poirot. Maigret’s world is smoggy, tobacco-filled early to mid-20th century Paris. But Simenon’s greater literary reputation is based on what he called his romans durs—‘hard novels’— “psychological thrillers exploring the darkest corners of the human mind, prostitution, police corruption… the hope of escape represented by railway stations… events which Simenon had experienced and were fictionalized to a criminal or psychological extreme.” Booker Prize-winner John Banville, who writes crime fiction under the pseudonym Benjamin Black, praised Simenon’s novels for their psychological insights and vivid evocation of time and place. W. Somerset Maugham; The Letter While not known as a crime writer, during most of his lifetime Maugham was the most famous author in the world. His commercial success so undermined the critical reception of his work that he himself described his position in the literary world as being “in the very first row of the second-raters.” Depending on who’s counting, between 60 and 90 of his novels, plays, and short stories have been adapted to film and TV. One of the most famous of these is his short story, The Letter, the barely fictionalized account of the 1911 murder of a British planter in Malaya by his lover, the wife of another British plantation owner. Its strength is not the nature of the killing but the shame and duplicity and the world of its characters. The Letter became a play, and was filmed twice, best in 1940, starring Bette Davis. The real life murder is also the subject of a 2023 novel, The House of Doors, by Tan Twan Eng, featuring Somerset Maugham as a character. I found it a tepid dilution of Maugham’s original short story, lacking the perfectly drawn time, place, and characters that Maugham knew best. Edward St Aubyn; The Patrick Melrose books The five short ‘Patrick Melrose’ novels—Never Mind, Bad News, Some Hope, Mother’s Milk, At Last—by British novelist Edward St Aubyn, are not crime books per se. They are accounts of the emotional and pedophiliac abuse received by St Aubyn’s thinly veiled autobiographical character Patrick Melrose during his childhood at the hands of his parents, dysfunctional British aristocrats, and Patrick’s later adult life. The first book describes Patrick’s rape as a child by his own father at the family’s beautiful chateau in the south of France. Subsequent books deal with Patrick’s life as a drug addict, his father’s funeral, his own attempts at marriage. They are as dark as human familial relations can be, and frequently hysterically funny. St Aubyn is a great prose stylist. His humor is a way to deal with unspeakable abuse and horror. He’s not laughing at his protagonist, with the glee sometimes shown by Stephen King and other authors toward their miscreant creations, St Aubyn is using humor with compassion, as a way to assimilate, for protagonist and reader, the unspeakable. It’s a writing lesson for the ages. HBO made a successful adaptation of the five books, called Patrick Melrose, starring Benedict Cumberbatch. My point here is, again, place and manners. The Melrose books are a trip, a literary benchmark of human misbehavior; guaranteed—trigger warning—to offend every sensibility. *** View the full article -
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Mark Woodworth: How a Missouri Teenager Ended up in Prison for a Shocking Murder in a Small Town
There was no good reason for Bob Ramsey, a veteran St. Louis defense attorney, to take on Mark Woodworth as a client. At first glance, Woodworth couldn’t appear more guilty. He’d already been convicted, not once but twice, of the same murder—once in 1995, and then again in 1999 after a retrial, when the judge, throwing the book at him, had sent Woodworth back to Missouri state prison with four life sentences. The evidence against Mark looked damning. The victim had been Mark’s neighbor Cathy Robertson, a forty-one-year-old mother of five. At the crime scene, investigators had found Mark’s fingerprint on a box of bullets, the same type of bullets police suspected the shooter had used. Moreover, police had confiscated a Ruger pistol from Mark’s father and passed it along to a ballistics examiner. The examiner fired a test bullet from the Ruger, looked at the bullet under a microscope, and then matched it to a remnant of one of the six bullets used in the shooting. Mark, who was sixteen at the time of the murder but was certified as an adult by the state of Missouri at trial, had target-practiced with a nearly identical Ruger pistol weeks before Cathy was killed. Neither did it help his cause that the Robertsons lived across the street from the Woodworths and that Mark slept alone in a bedroom in the basement, next to a door he could sneak out of without anyone knowing he was gone. During a polygraph, Mark responded to the suggestion that he’d been the killer and could now face the death penalty by telling the detective matter-of-factly, “We all have to die sometime.” At his first trial, when Mark was brought up to the witness stand to proclaim his innocence, he had not been a convincing advocate for his own cause. He did not passionately reject the prosecutor’s suggestion that he had been the gunman. Quite the opposite, in fact; he wasn’t showing much emotion at all. Pale, short, thin, with a spread of acne on his cheeks and narrow, dark brown eyes that tended to gaze off into the distance, Mark had the type of sullen disposition that, as the Missouri state prosecutors suggested in their closing remarks, was not unlike all the American teenage boys with brains soaked by action movies and bloody video games who kept making the nightly news for brutal acts of senseless violence in the 1990s. In both trials, jurors learned Mark had almost no social existence to speak of. He was hardly interested in girls, didn’t go to parties, and had but one friend. Academics never being his strong suit, he’d dropped out of high school and spent much of his time by himself on his family’s farm. To put it simply, Mark fit the profile of what had become a prominent if menacing figure in the national imagination—a loner with a gun looking to make a name for himself. For a small-town jury, there was perhaps nothing more emblematic of the ongoing American crisis of violence than the young American male with a dead stare and something toxic boiling in his blood. In the cities, the bloodshed had become a bleak if almost rudimentary occurrence. But now the violence crept into their rural outpost, knocking on their door. By the time Mark was back in his prison uniform at the Crossroads Correctional Center after his failed appeal, the Woodworths had already churned through four lawyers. Now that Mark was facing four life sentences, they had little hope of finding a decent attorney willing to keep fighting. It was during this period of despair that Dale Whiteside, a friend and state representative born and raised in Chillicothe, the small northwestern Missouri town where the Woodworths and Robertsons lived, told Mark’s parents about an unusual lawyer named Bob Ramsey. A middle-aged attorney who had bounced around law firms in St. Louis, Ramsey had a habit of taking on down-and-out clients. This wasn’t great for his bottom line, but something about their plight would speak to Ramsey’s sense of injustice; he’d spent years toiling on these special projects, trying to prove to himself and the courts that his client had gotten a raw deal. Whiteside had come to know Ramsey through a shared hatred of domestic abuse. One of Whiteside’s pet issues in his capacity as a representative was working to free Missouri women who’d been imprisoned after killing their abusive husbands or boyfriends. With frustrating frequency, judges in Missouri rejected the argument that women who’d spent months or years being punched, kicked, slapped, or otherwise physically tormented by their abusive significant others were acting in self-defense when they killed the men who hurt them. Ramsey had taken on a few of these women as clients, one of whom he hoped to free by winning her clemency from the governor. As determined as he was persistent, even when the chances of a successful outcome were slim, he’d set off on a three-day walk along a 130-mile route from St. Louis to the capitol building in Jefferson City to drum up publicity for his client. Though his cross-state pilgrimage was a bust, the effort convinced Whiteside of Ramsey’s extraordinary commitment to his clients. It was then that Whiteside called Ramsey to ask if he would represent the son of a family from his hometown of Chillicothe, a young man who Whiteside believed had been set up as the killer. Whiteside, however, struggled to instill the same belief about Woodworth’s innocence in Ramsey, who was more than a little dubious. The Woodworths were good people in need of someone who could help them, Whiteside told Ramsey, all but begging him to just give the case a look. At least meet with Mark in prison before you say no, Whiteside pleaded. This wasn’t a good time for Ramsey to take on more long-shot cases. He and his wife, a trauma nurse, were raising two teenage children in their modest suburban home outside St. Louis, and expensive college tuitions were on the horizon. But Ramsey agreed to give Mark a chance. * As he sat across from Mark under the sterile fluorescents of the Crossroads Correctional visiting room, with guards watching closely, it had taken Ramsey all of about ten minutes to intuit that Mark was not a killer. The possibility then that Mark was an innocent young man spending his life in prison ignited a deep sense of injustice in Ramsey. “How could you know that?” I asked Ramsey. We were in his office in a small brick building along a strip of fast-food restaurants and office parks that sprawled east from St. Louis over the border into Illinois. “You haven’t met him yet?” Ramsey asked. I hadn’t. It was August 2013, and after landing in St. Louis, I’d picked up my rental from Hertz and stopped by Ramsey’s place before making the four-hour drive west. I’d heard about the case from a source on an unrelated assignment earlier in the year and couldn’t stop thinking about it. Despite the rap on Mark as an outcast turned stone- cold gunman, he didn’t have any history of violence, and as the local who tipped me off to the case explained, those who’d known Mark had considered him a quiet, even gentle, kid—at least until the shooting took place. He was the son and grandson of farmers on both his mother’s and father’s sides, and as the eldest of seven children he stood to lead his siblings in eventually taking over the family farm. In news coverage of the case, Woodworth supporters said that all the boy ever wanted to do was be a farmer like his father. So what exactly happened to Mark, then, to make him turn away from the path that had been laid out for him, eschewing the traditions and livelihood that were his inheritance? And what was it that had Ramsey so convinced that Mark was innocent? How could he maintain such a high level of confidence when two juries unanimously voted the other way? “Well, when you do meet him, I think you’ll know what I mean,” Ramsey told me. What I wanted to know from Ramsey, though, was how he’d come to take on this case at all. The idea that Mark didn’t seem violent, I said, didn’t necessarily matter in light of the two juries who felt otherwise. What was it that convinced him this was a client who was worth the trouble? Ramsey took a second to think it over. At sixty-five, he was tall and well nourished, with a round belly and broad shoulders. His neatly trimmed goatee was the same gray as his dense head of hair. He wore silver wire-rimmed glasses. He hadn’t been in this particular office all that long; it was just another workspace he’d taken up since leaving his previous firm after butting heads with the owner over how he ran the practice. Grabbing this desk in the office of an old friend, Ramsey had brought along his diplomas and a landscape print of a golf course, which now hung on the walls slightly askew. All the flat surfaces were covered with piles of court documents and legal pads flipped to pages filled with dense cursive scribbles. Bankers boxes around the edge of the room were stuffed with papers so thickly annotated with sticky notes they resembled planters of exotic yellow flowers. Ramsey had been grinding away on the Woodworth case for well over a decade, and it had become a full-blown obsession. “Well, the funny thing about that is, it wasn’t any single thing,” he said. “Every part of this case smelled like a skunk from the beginning.” He recalled that, after he met Mark, the family put him in touch with a group of a dozen or so locals in Chillicothe who’d formed the Concerned Citizens for Justice for Mark Woodworth. While the Robertsons and many in Chillicothe took Mark’s life sentences as proof of a functional justice system, a small but zealous contingent felt otherwise. They’d held fundraisers over the years, accumulating enough money to offer a $153,000 reward for information that would lead to the “arrest and conviction of the persons responsible for the death of Catherine Robertson,” as one of their bake-sale posters put it. It was strange that the neighbors in such a small community, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone, would so adamantly disagree about who had killed one of their own. When Ramsey went to the courthouse and asked the clerk to pull the grand jury transcript file, the clerk had given him a folder with almost nothing in it. There were just a few pages containing the opening remarks that the judge, Ken Lewis, had made at Mark’s hearing—a long, stinging monologue chastising the county prosecutor, who, for reasons unspecified, had recused himself from the case. Judge Lewis told the grand jury how grateful he was that the Missouri attorney general, the state’s highest-ranking law enforcement official, had gone to the trouble to travel up north from the capital to this small farming outpost to see about Mark’s day in court. What he was doing in Chillicothe, and why this little speech was preserved in the court files, remained a mystery. Standing with me outside his office building in the bright, warm August sun, Ramsey smoked a cigarette and lamented that, ever since a pair of back surgeries, he couldn’t keep up his daily training in aikido, the Japanese martial art. He’d traveled all over the country for aikido retreats and studied the philosophy underlying the practice with an intensity he otherwise reserved for trial preparation. Over the years, Ramsey has implemented some of the aikido principles into his legal practice. “Calmness in action,” he said. “You try to do this without escalating the conflict, without inflicting unnecessary pain on your attacker. It’s based on the old samurai code of a spirit of love and protection of all living things. “It’s all there, downstairs,” he said, stubbing out his cigarette. “The case squad binders, all of it. You’re free to look at whatever I have.” We went into the lower level of the office, where a conference table was flanked by shelves of bankers boxes jammed with papers from the Woodworth case. It wasn’t possible to guess how many individual pages were in the files. It was many thousands, and a daunting portion of it wasn’t labeled. Ramsey was Mark’s fifth attorney, and he had inherited documents from everyone who had worked on the case before him; then he spent a decade adding his own massive haul of collected materials. Somewhere, I thought I might find the point of origin, of where this case really began—and then perhaps I’d get a sense of what the police had found, and as Ramsey suggested, what they had missed. “It’ll take a while,” Ramsey said, stacking a pile of folders in front of me before he headed upstairs to take a phone call. “But I bet you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.” ___________________________________ From The Shooter at Midnight: Murder, Corruption, and a Farming Town Divided by Sean Patrick Cooper, published by Penguin Books, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC. © 2024 by Sean Patrick Cooper. View the full article -
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Write to Pitch 2024 - June
The Act of Story Statement: Catherine, captain of a secret supernatural order, must defy divine authority and partner with an unknowing human to save Santa Ana Island - and the world - from the effects of climate change. -
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10 New Books Coming Out This Week
Another week, another batch of books for your TBR pile. Happy reading, folks. * Kellye Garrett, Missing White Woman (Mulholland) “Juicy but shrewd, Missing White Woman is arguably a thriller for the TikTok age, its issues contemporary yet timeless. Kellye Garrett uses her staccato sentences to build pressure … [and] handles questions with depth and verve in this exciting new book.” –Elle Peter Nichols, Granite Harbor (Celadon Books) “Well-written, character-driven portrait of small-town New England meets Silence of the Lambs.” –Kirkus Reviews Catherine Mack, Every Time I Go On Vacation Someone Dies (Minotaur) “[A] fizzy series debut . . . Mack, a pseudonym for the veteran Canadian author Catherine McKenzie, gleefully pokes fun at genre tropes while evoking Eleanor’s zany world . . . hilarious.” –The New York Times Jeneva Rose, Home Is Where The Bodies Are (Blackstone) “Rose demonstrates a formidable command of character…Fans will enjoy the ride.” –Publishers Weekly Niklas Natt och Dag, Order of the Furies (Atria) “A brutal, satisfying end to a superior series.” –Publishers Weekly Jean-Luc Bannalec, Death of a Master Chef (Minotaur) “An intriguing and tasty mystery with surprising twists in a beautiful, charming setting that will appeal to Louise Penny fans.” –First Clue Thomas Olde Heuvelt, Oracle (Tor Nightfire) “Told in the style of an international thriller and featuring a huge cast of well-developed characters, the novel is a deep dive into how the tendrils of the past can reach out and force humanity to heed a warning.” –Library Journal Lee Geum-yi (trans. An Seonjae), Can’t I Go Instead (Forge) “Compelling and inspiring, this story speaks of resilience and determination to make the best out of the situation one has been dealt.” –Booklist Sean Patrick Cooper, The Shooter at Midnight (Penguin) “An arresting work of true crime. . . Cooper’s suspenseful narrative nimbly interweaves procedural beats and a vivid portrait of rural America in crisis.” –Publishers Weekly Jason Bell, Cracking the Nazi Code (Pegasus) “The investigative work the author has done has produced a biography suited to the best of the current-day spy novels. Well-written and interesting and deserves to be devoured.” –New York Journal of Books View the full article -
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What a Series of Killings in Rural Georgia Revealed About Early 20th-Century America
They moved Route 36 in the years after the killings. Now the road runs straight where it used to dogleg through Newton County, an hour’s drive southeast of Atlanta, and most travelers don’t see that it was ever otherwise. Orphaned stretches of the old highway linger here and there, most of them dwindled to rough trails—hardwoods and high weeds pressing their flanks, yearling pines braving their unpaved crowns, thick weaves of vine plunging their remote twists into midday dusk. Leave anything for long in the Georgia heat and rain and, sure as the sunrise, nature will reclaim it. It does not take long. You have to look hard for one piece of the original roadbed, where it veers from modern blacktop into jungle at the county’s southern tip. Its passage into the trees has knitted shut, season by season, over a lifetime of disuse. A sign once warned off the curious; when it fell away, the opening had shrunk so small, so easily missed by passing traffic, that hanging a new one must have seemed a waste of effort. The revelations tore at America’s faith in its own virtue. They undermined its sense of modernity, challenged its grasp of history—resurrected sins thought dead and gone. The road beyond is an abstraction, a shallow groove carpeted in pine needles. But if you dare push through the tangle into the gloom, and follow the ghost of old Route 36 on its curving path among the trees, you soon reach the South River—and what’s left of the span that bore the abandoned highway to the far bank. Mann’s Bridge squats on rusting pylons a few feet over the drink, its wood-plank floor stripped away, its box-truss skeleton venturing only halfway across the water. Its bones are pitted, flaking, and brittle with age. It receives few visitors, this fossil of horse-drawn days. Barely visible from the modern concrete bridge a thousand feet downstream, it’s paid little mind by anyone. Yet here, unknown to most folks in Newton County and unmentioned by those aware of it, an event of powerful repercussion occurred. One winter’s Saturday night in 1921, an automobile chugged up the old highway to stop in the span’s middle, and one of its occupants dropped to the water below. Then, as now, the South River was shallow at the bridge, its bottom only eight to ten feet down. But when a man is bound by wire, with a hundred-pound sack of rocks chained to his neck, water need not run deep to do its work. Dark with tannins, clouded by mud, it swallowed him up. A minute later, it was back to running smooth and slow. On the same night a mile from here, where old Route 36 crossed another river, two different men, likewise trussed with wire and chain, were thrown off Allen’s Bridge, now all but vanished. In the space of a few nights, three more men were pitched off a third bridge five miles to the northeast. Many others died in the surrounding countryside, all of them Black and all at the hands of what seemed an unlikely killer. His arrest and trial would spawn front-page headlines from coast to coast about the virtual prison he ran on a plantation one county over, and about what lay behind the farm’s prosperity and the murders, both—a form of slavery that had survived in the South for generations after Appomattox. Each day’s paper brought new details of the slaughter, new glimpses of the brutal months and years the victims endured before meeting their ends. The revelations tore at America’s faith in its own virtue. They undermined its sense of modernity, challenged its grasp of history—resurrected sins thought dead and gone, put to rest by the Thirteenth Amendment. Provoked wonder: How could such things happen here, in the Empire State of the South? How could they happen now, amid the inventive dazzle of the twentieth century? How could they happen at all? A century on, you might ask the same questions. The whole business remains incredible, the more so because it has so faded from memory. No roadside marker calls it to mind out on the new Route 36. No town square monument honors the dead. Nothing commemorates the drama that brought a pernicious but largely unseen form of indentured servitude to widespread attention—and, by dragging it into the light, perhaps helped to hasten its decline. Neither do we have tangible reminders that Georgia’s governor at the time, a man vilified for his role in an earlier murder case, earned some measure of redemption through his response to these killings. Nor that, while doing so, he allied with two African American activists who rank among the twentieth century’s ablest generals in the long and continuing battle for racial justice. About the only memorial to those clamorous days is here, in an out-of-the-way corner of a sparsely populated county in central Georgia, at the end of an abandoned dirt road, at the decrepit remains of Mann’s Bridge. It seems too tranquil a setting for the lessons it offers. That the past lurks close. That we haven’t learned as much as we think we have. That maybe we never do. Crickets and birdsong fill the air. Fish leap. The bridge’s old metal bakes hot in the sun. The river swirls like syrup around its legs. * A January weekday at the U.S. Post Office and Courthouse in downtown Atlanta—today the home of the Eleventh Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals, but in 1921, a busy warren of federal offices. Two special agents of the United States Department of Justice’s Bureau of Investigation, the forerunner of today’s FBI, were working at their desks on the third floor when up walked a Black man named Gus Chapman. Thirty-nine years old and worn for his age, Chapman told the agents that he had been living in Atlanta the previous spring when he was picked up on a loitering charge. Fined five dollars, unable to pay it, he was facing hard labor on the chain gang when a young farmer approached him in the jail. Come home with me, he said, and you can work out your fine there. You’ll be happy you did. It’ll be like a home to you. And so Chapman accompanied Hulon Williams home to Jasper County, in the cotton country forty miles southeast of the city, and to a sprawling plantation owned by Williams’s father. He quickly saw that “Mr. Hulon” had oversold its charms. Chapman received no pay. He was forced at the end of a gun barrel to work from dawn to well past dark. He was forbidden to leave the premises under threat of death. He was locked up at night in a bunkhouse crowded with other prisoners, and whipped for any infraction, real or imagined. The Bureau agents recognized the conditions he described. Gus Chapman had been held in peonage. That word has fallen out of use, and today is unknown to many Americans, if not most. But throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, peonage claimed lives by the thousands and ruined untold others. It tore men from their wives and children, stole sons from their mothers, and helped fuel the Great Migration of southern Blacks to the industrial cities of the Northeast and Midwest in the years on either side of World War I. Chapman was typical of its victims. In one of its many forms, a man, usually Black, would be arrested for a trifling or trumped-up offense. Vagrancy—that is, having no job, or at least no ready proof of one—was a favorite, as was loitering. Conviction was pretty much automatic, and almost always carried a fine and fees beyond his means. A third party would then step forward to pay the fine in return for the prisoner’s labor until his debt was repaid. If, before he settled his account, he was prevented from leaving, that prisoner was a peon, trapped in what amounted to debt slavery. Ginned-up bills for his food and housing might be added to his fine, effectively turning a short jail term into a life sentence. His working and living conditions were often hellish. And if he tried to run, he’d be hunted down like an animal. Chapman knew that firsthand. The previous July, after three months on the farm, he had slipped away by night and struck off to the east. Roughly a dozen straight-line miles across forest and cottonfield, he found himself cornered. The farm’s owner, John Sims Williams—“Mr. Johnny” to his field hands—dragged him home and threatened to kill him. Chapman pleaded for his life until Williams softened. He decided instead to beat the prisoner with his fists, treat him to a savage whipping, then order him to chop firewood in the rain until the sun went down. Though Congress had outlawed peonage in 1867, it had endured in the hardscrabble back blocks of the rural South. The memory of that beating, and Mr. Johnny’s assurance that if he ran off again he’d be killed like a snake, dissuaded Chapman from another flight for more than four months—until, on or about December 1, 1920, he again snuck off the Williams place in the dark. This time he made it to Atlanta. He’d been in hiding since. Others had not been so lucky. Chapman told the agents that he knew of peons killed at the Williams place, and that he had witnessed one of their deaths. A prisoner nicknamed Blackstrap had run away the previous spring and was recaptured after several days on the lam. Back at the plantation, he was draped over a gasoline barrel, his hands and feet held by other field workers, and whipped by Mr. Hulon with such fury that he begged for the torture to stop, begged for the pain to end; cried and begged even as Mr. Hulon handed a revolver to another farmhand and ordered him to shoot. These Williams people were dangerous, Chapman told the agents. He lived in fear they would track him down in Atlanta. If they found him and took him back to Jasper County, it would be to kill him. It so happened that Gus Chapman was not the only peon to steal away from the Williams plantation and seek out Special Agents Adelbert J. Wismer and George W. Brown. A second man had been bailed out of jail by Mr. Hulon in February 1920 and had been held against his will until his escape the following September. He evaded capture, ghosting into neighboring Newton County and reaching its seat, Covington, before turning west to Atlanta. The record is vague on whether James Strickland spoke to Wismer and Brown before or after Chapman, but their visits came within weeks of each other, and the accounts they gave the agents dovetailed in their particulars. In exchange for the $5.25 fine that Mr. Hulon paid the jailers, Strickland worked from daybreak to night, without pay and under guard; Mr. Johnny, Mr. Hulon, and Hulon’s brothers, LeRoy and Marvin, carried pistols, as did two trusted Black hands who served as the plantation’s field bosses. Strickland was locked up at night with other men “bought” from the jails in Atlanta, Macon, and Monticello, the Jasper County seat. Like Chapman, he described seeing a fellow peon murdered. Strickland had not been on the farm long when a worker named Iron Jaw—who also went by Long John, and whom still others knew as Smart John—took off running. The Williamses hunted him down, brought him back, and whipped him. Three of the Williams boys took turns getting their licks in. On a Saturday morning not long after, the peons were building a hog enclosure, and Iron Jaw was dispatched to retrieve a coil of wire for the fence. He was unable to carry it, or was making a mess of rolling the wire—the exact nature of his offense wasn’t clear, but whatever the case, Mr. LeRoy decided he had earned another whipping. LeRoy was well into giving it to him when Iron Jaw asked him to stop. When Mr. LeRoy did not, Iron Jaw told him he would rather die than be treated so. Mr. LeRoy asked him: You want me to kill you, sure enough? Yes, came the reply. Mr. LeRoy shot him in the arm, then asked: You really want me to kill you? Iron Jaw nodded. Mr. LeRoy shot him dead. He turned to Strickland, standing a few feet away, and asked: Do you want some of this? The gun, he meant. No, Strickland recalled saying. I don’t want none of it. Wismer and Brown took it all down. Though Congress had outlawed peonage in 1867, it had endured in the hardscrabble back blocks of the rural South, and it was among the agents’ duties to investigate reports of its presence. It wasn’t the sort of work they savored. Victims were often too terrorized to say much, white juries tended to side with white defendants, and even if the government won a conviction, the penalties faced by the accused were meager. Still, the Bureau had other business in that part of the state, so on February 18, 1921, the agents drove to Jasper County. From their office they wove through a booming city of electric lights and elevators, grand movie and vaudeville houses, and office towers reaching higher than songbirds flew. They drove boulevards clogged with Model Ts, streetcars, and slow-rolling drays, past smoking factories and the tenements of the poor. Atlanta, the capital of the New South: a city of smarts and bustle and cosmopolitan style to match most any in the East. Out through its suburbs of fine homes they passed. Soon the houses fell away, and the cotton rose, and they were in the country. It was another Georgia out there. It was another century. __________________________________ Excerpted from Hell Put to Shame: The 1921 Murder Farm Massacre and the Horror of America’s Second Slavery by Earl Swift. Copyright © 2024 by Earl Swift. From Mariner Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission. View the full article -
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The Author as Protagonist
“People should be interested in books, not their authors.”—Agatha Christie A couple of years ago, on the sun-drenched Amalfi Coast when it was climate-change hot outside, I had a thought (Okay, I had many thoughts, but mostly—why did I think it was a good idea to go to Italy in July?). My husband and I were halfway through a ten-day tour and our conversation was wandering, as it tends to do when we’ve spent that much uninterrupted time together, into random topics. I talk a lot—maybe that’s why I’m a writer?—and my thoughts sometimes skip like stones across a flat pond. In between Coke Zero’s and Aperol Spritzes (By the time the trip was over I was half Coke Zero and half Aperol Spritz), my thoughts turned to Agatha Christie. And more specifically, why anyone would ever invite Miss Marple anywhere? Had no one noticed that every time she went on vacation, someone died? Oh! Now there was a book title! I stopped talking for an hour or so, my mind pulled inward, spinning through the various possibilities of what story I could tell with a title like Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies. Because I knew I had something, I just wasn’t sure what. After a couple of hours of internal monologue (Did you know that a huge percentage of people have no internal monologue? I am all internal monologue.) where I’m sure my husband thought I was having some kind of stroke that rendered me silent, I settled on a story about a writer surrounded by literary rivals and her all-too-real protagonist whom she wanted dead. It would be set in Italy, of course, and as the I in the title suggests, it would be written in very close first-person with fourth-wall breaking and footnotes. Once I got home and started writing it, the book came more easily than anything I’ve written before, even though it was quite different from the thrillers I’ve been writing for years, or the rom-com I wrote before that. I didn’t stop then to wonder then why that was, but I think I’ve found the root of it. I grew up in a house full of books. But not just any books—detective fiction lined our floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, tattered paperbacks that had been reread so many times the spines were starting to give. Agatha Christie, Rex Stout, and Sue Grafton were my companions from age 12 after I graduated from L.M. Montgomery and Flowers in the Attic (It was the 70s. No, my parents did not monitor what I was reading.). Looking back there was a common thread that ran through my parents’ choices—many of these books featured a detective who was also a writer. Maybe it was because my father had writing aspirations (he eventually wrote a mystery and published it with a small press), or maybe it wasn’t as deliberate as that. I never asked. But it’s a fairly specific trait. One, that, after a quick Google search I learned has been present since the very first modern detective story—Edgar Allen Poe’s The Murders in the Rue Morgue (Does this mean I haven’t read Poe? I’ll never tell.). In that short story, Poe established a template that would be followed by some of the most famous detective fiction authors in history—a narrator who acts as an assistant to a mercurial and brilliant detective as they solve baffling cases. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who read and admired Poe, adopted this format when he invented Holmes and Watson and gave them their first adventure in A Study in Scarlet in 1886. The Holmes novels are “case studies” written by Dr. Watson, a twist on the format influenced by Holmes’ medical career where case studies were used in teaching surgical techniques. Agatha Christie, too, was almost certainly influenced by Doyle’s choice of an author who is both part of the story but not the principal detective when she wrote The Mysterious Affair at Styles, where we meet Hercule Poirot through the eyes of his friend, Hastings (Hastings and Dr. Watson have many similarities in their personalities and backgrounds according to this Wikipedia article!). While Hastings doesn’t appear in all of Poirot’s novels, he helped introduce us to Poirot and set the tone for that series. Agatha was a fan of Doyle’s early novels and—fun fact!—he participated in the search for her when she went missing in 1926. Rex Stout used a similar device in Fer-de-lance, his first detective fiction novel (published in 1934) which introduced Nero Wolfe and his trusty guy Friday Archie Goodwin. I’m not the first person to point out that Stout followed a familiar path trod by Doyle in his creation—a quirky detective and his trusted assistant; they even both live in the same house. I’m sure there are many other examples, but I’m an author, not an academic. Besides, if I didn’t read them, could they have influenced my literary path? Yes, yes, I know they could have. Like Miranda Priestly points out in The Devil Wears Prada (the movie), that teal sweater you buy at the Gap had its birth on a runway in Paris whether you follow fashion or not. Put another way, and to (mis)quote someone (Shakespeare? I thought it was Shakespeare but I can’t find it on the interwebs), there are seven basic plots and one of them surely involves a writer stuck in their own murder mystery. I’m sure Sue Grafton would agree. In her alphabet series, which started in 1982 with A is for Alibi, she changed it up by introducing a female detective (Kinsey Milhone) and doing away with the sidekick—Kinsey narrates her own stories thank you very much, which she frames as case reports. Sound familiar? Interestingly, Grafton wrote screenplay adaptations of Christie’s A Caribbean Mystery (a Miss Marple story) and Sparkling Cyanide (a Colonel Race story), and was apparently groomed—in a good way!—by her father to write detective fiction. More recently, the writer as protagonist in mysteries has taken a different turn into an emerging genre of funny mysteries. Two of my favorite examples are Benjamin Stevenson’s Ernest Cunningham series (Everyone in My Family Has Killed Someone) and the Finlay Donovan series by Elle Cosimano. Besides the fact that I am fairly certain that Benjamin Stevenson and I somehow share a brain though we’ve never met, both of these series involve a writer who is thrust into a murder mystery and are told in the first person. Finlay even has a sidekick—the enigmatic Vero who is part nanny and part partner-in-detecting-crime. So we know we do it. But that also begs the question—why? Is it a lack of imagination? I’d defend myself in that case. I’ve written many books and the main character is a writer in four. Okay, that’s still a big percentage. But no one would ever accuse Poe or Doyle or Christie of lacking in imagination. So the question remains. I have a theory because of course I do. And it’s this—writing is puzzle solving. Even if you’re in charge of the mystery in your book (and all books have mysteries regardless of genre, that’s why we read them, to find out) you still need to be able to put the pieces together and follow a trail of clues and see into the heart of people so their motivations are understandable. In short, writers are detectives. Who better, then, to narrate a murder mystery? *** View the full article -
36
Algonkian Retreats and Workshops - Assignments 2024
THE ACT OF STORY STATEMENT To avoid the shame of being ‘Talent-blind’, 51-year old Seja works her farm and raises the children in solitude, until her grown son is kidnapped and she leaves everything to rescue him. During her search she learns of a dark Talent behind the kidnapping, who’s plotting world domination. She must find a way to unblock her elemental Talent and work with an overbearing dragon to thwart the dark Talent’s plans. THE ANTAGONIST PLOTS THE POINT Kasiran of Ryemin, born in Arjenkaria, the eastern continent, to parents so poor they have not earned a surname. At 6 he’s tested in the annual Sweep for Talents. He’s highly gifted in four elements, something unknown for generations, so the Tester stops looking after finding Earth Talent. He’s taken from his family, his parents are paid a year’s wages and forced to sign a contract dis-owning him. At the state academy he’s outwardly a good student. Only allowed to specialize in 1 or 2 elements, he practices in secret, gradually falling into dark uses of Talent. At 14 he accidentally kills a classmate. The Head Teacher has him abducted from school and left in the wilderness. Taken from his family, betrayed by the school, he vows to never be controlled again. He believes four element Talent makes him invincible. He can take over the minds of his followers, and keeps slaves to draw life-force for healing himself after using dark Talent. In his late 20's he allies with extremists who believe Talents are entitled to rule, and others are lesser. They move to Riata, take over an abandoned fort at Ryemin, and begin taking steps to conquer the entire continent. CONJURING YOUR BREAKOUT TITLE I'm still looking for other titles. These are just the first few I've thought of. The Fire that Reveals Child of Earth & Fire An Unwanted Dragon COMPARABLES FOR YOUR NOVEL Eye of the World, Robert Jordan I'm certainly not at the level of Robert Jordan, but the "magic" system is somewhat similar, in that it uses inborn gifts that rely on mental focus, and is impossible or difficult to use if the practitioner has an emotional difficulty. (still looking for a newer novel as a second comp) (place holder for #2) FIFTH ASSIGNMENT: write your own hook line (logline) with conflict and core wound... Deserted by her husband and now Talent-blind, a middle-aged woman and an overbearing dragon must work together to defeat a dark Talent attempting to enslave their world. SIXTH ASSIGNMENT: sketch out the conditions for the inner conflict your protagonist will have. Why will they feel in turmoil? Conflicted? Anxious? Sketch out one hypothetical scenario in the story wherein this would be the case--consider the trigger and the reaction. (I'm taking "sketch" literally and writing this as a description of the scene, rather than an actual scene in the novel.) The main protagonist, Seja, as eldest daughter of her clan, is the “Dai”, or leader of the clan. The Dai is responsible for the clan members’ well-being, success, and their jointly-owned land. Raised by parents who valued self-control above displays of affection, Seja presents an invulnerable front to the world, of not needing love or help from anyone in her life. Her parents’ love was conditional on meeting their standards of behavior and achievement, so she learned she was not worthy of love unless she could do everything for herself to a very high standard. She is undemonstrative, and uncomfortable when others show her affection. 16 years ago her husband Teral left her, and she believes it was her fault he was unhappy, even though she's Talent-blind as a result. For her, showing vulnerability, needing help, is to invite rejection from the people she cares about. Her emotional journey is learning that she’s worthy of love, it’s alright to need others, be vulnerable, and accept help without feeling like a failure. While searching for her kidnapped son, Seja is captured by a group of border raiders and discovers her long-lost husband is with them. He pretends not to know her, and she notices he is close to another woman in the group. This confirms her belief that she isn’t worthy of love, but seeing it with her own eyes is devastating. When Teral approaches her secretly one night, wanting to talk, she expresses her pain as rage, pouring out so much vitriol that he never gets a word in and has to leave before others notice. The next day she’s tortured by the group’s leader to find out what she knows about the border situation. That night Teral’s female companion, Atanet, comes to clean and heal Seja’s wounds. Bound hand and foot, Seja must allow it, but is angry and silent. As she works on Seja’s wounds, Atanet quietly tells Seja what happened to Teral and that they’re both unwillingly trapped in this group. Seja refuses to respond and the woman leaves. But Seja considers what Atanet said and begins to get the barest glimmer that it might not be all ‘her fault’. Maybe Teral’s discontent was partly due to his own dreams of what his life could be, and his failure to communicate with her. A few nights later, when nearly everyone else is asleep, Teral and Atanet come to the tent where Seja is held. They untie her, give her food and water, and together they sneak out of camp. Their plan is to help Seja escape, and they will escape in another direction. They get away from camp but someone wakes up, notices Seja is gone, and the group comes after them. They run. Teral is seriously wounded by an arrow. They find a cave to hide in. Teral insists Seja leave so she can get away before they're found. Seja runs, but is torn with many conflicting emotions, including gratitude, anger, fear, regret. SECOND CONFLICT; sketch a hypothetical scenario involving the social environment. Will this involve family? Friends? Associates? What is the nature of it? Conflicts with society: Nerreth society now looks down on Seja as one of the Talent-blind. Elemental Talents are born more frequently in Nerreth compared to other places. They allow Talented people to draw the life-force of the planet and use it manipulate earth, water, fire or air in various ways. One can be highly or modestly Talented, but usually it can help the person with various important tasks, including making crafts and goods to a very high standard. Now Seja cannot heal anyone, and her craft-work is seen as low quality. Plus, without her Talent, working the farm has become far more difficult and time-consuming. As a result she stays at home, avoiding village society in general. Whereas before she frequently went out to heal people or animals, or help other farmers with soil and plant health. Conflicts with family: At the beginning of the story the barn burns down. She and her son can’t put the fire out, something she could have done with Talent. Even more humbling, she can’t heal their wounds, so they have to be healed by the village healer. Soon after, her son leaves home to start his career. Now Seja's alone, her family is concerned she can’t take care of the farm. Her sister wants to move her family to the farm so her children can learn more about it, but Seja refuses. She feels she’s being treated as a decrepit old woman who can’t fend for herself. Seja and her daughter Jyra don’t get along. Jyra blames her mother for her father’s desertion, and doesn’t understand why her mother hasn’t got over it yet. Jyra was still young when her father left, so has less understanding of what really happened. Jyra is highly Talented with Air, and is ashamed that her mother, once a respected healer and farmer, is now Talent-blind. FINAL ASSIGNMENT: sketch out your setting in detail. What makes it interesting enough, scene by scene, to allow for uniqueness and cinema in your narrative and story? ...... -
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Write to Pitch 2024 - June
Shadows of Siphons // Young Adult Fantasy // 99,000 words Assignment 1: The Act of Story Statement Keep family safe while discovering potential within. Assignment 2: The Antagonist Plots the Point Within this novel, there are two antagonists, one being the main focus while the other lurks in the background. Griffin is a Vogullon, a dark, shadow-like human turned demon and subordinate to the Darkness Wielder (the “big bad”). The Darkness Wielder found him on the streets, nearly at death, and bestowed a fraction of his power on Griffin. After restoring his lifeforce, the dark energy allowed Griffin the ability to shift from his human body into one more demonic with black, bat-like wings, crimson eyes like blood, and skin covered with patchy green scales. He is one of hundreds of Vogullon, but is who the Darkness Wielder tasks with stalking the protagonist from a young age to capture and bring her to him so he can claim a power she unknowingly wields. Over the eighteen years he comes close to capturing her but is unsuccessful. Griffin learns of the protagonist’s capabilities and breaks free of his shackles from the Darkness Wielder to claim that power for himself. He aims to bring the same pain, suffering, darkness, and humiliation to mankind that was bestowed upon him in his mortal life. He allows his greed to consume him and attacks the protagonist in broad daylight, something he was forbidden from doing while under the Darkness Wielder’s control. Assignment 3: Conjuring Your Breakout Title -Shadows of Siphons -Destiny Written in Shadows -Irreverent Shadows Assignment 4: Deciding Your Genre and Approaching Comparables Young Adult Fantasy My first comp title is Legendborn by Tracy Deonn. Set in our modern, present day world, the protagonist finds herself surrounded by ancient magic and shadow creatures that hunt her, as well as others. She learns she has a power she was unaware of before. She also must uncover the secrets of an underground society which does not accept her, eventually discovering she’s tragically one of the main parts of that society. Similar themes include: self-discovery, facing one’s destiny head on, grief, uncovering and learning to control a hidden power. Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo is my second comp title. The protagonist is discovered to have an uncovered and incredibly desirable power, one that the antagonist seeks to claim as his own. The antagonist wields shadows and plays a direct role in the protagonist’s journey to discovering her true potential. The story also includes volcra, shadow creatures that were once human, that feed off dark energy. Similar themes include: light and dark as opposing forces, the allure of power, and self-control. Assignment 5: Core Wounds and the Primary Conflict A young woman, after years of running, is filled with guilt after watching her friends become flooded with ancient magic and are now tasked with protecting the world from a shadow demon, all because of her. Assignment 6: Other Matters of Conflict: Two More Levels Inner Conflict - Meira is driven by fear and anxiety, as her whole life has been spent running from humanoid shadows of the night that always appear to want something from her. Her grandmother packs her and her twin sister up any time Meira reports a sighting and takes them across the country to a new place. This happens frequently, and so often that Meira has lost her sense of belonging anywhere. After the shadows are revealed to be real and attempt to take her away, she finds her sister and friends are flooded with ancient elemental magic, and it’s entirely her fault. The others are taken to a magical facility to hone their magic. Meira is also dragged along, but she’s forbidden from seeing the others. And while they are being put on a pedestal by those around them for their magic, Meira is ridiculed and dismissed as a threat. Because of all this, and the numerous characters who express their strong disinterest in her being there, Meira struggles with a lack of belonging within this “world” despite being the sole reason that she and the others are there to begin with. Scene - In a scene where Meira sees her sister and friends for the first time in weeks, after being isolated from them, a side character who despises Meira rips her apart from them and tells her to “go where she belongs.” After some arguing and the other characters leave her, as she feels they always do, she replays the character’s words in her mind and states that she would go where she belonged if she knew where that was. Secondary Conflict - Meira’s secondary conflict revolves around our sorcerer, Ryder. Ryder has known Meira and her sister since they were children, so upon his arrival, she anticipates their relationship to be the same as it has been; friendly, warm, genuine. Instead, she is met with a version of Ryder she’s unfamiliar with; one who is cold, standoffish, and can wield magic she had no idea existed before. She attempts to ask him questions about the things happening around her, but he is more concerned with the other four with magic. Upon arriving at their facility, Ryder casts Meira to the side and tells her he cannot help her. As the story progresses, Meira attempts to confront Ryder multiple times, growing frustrated and angry when she’s met with indifference. He even goes as far as to tell her he won’t speak to her as it’s for her own safety, which she doesn’t believe. After her own previously unknown powers awaken, she finds information on Ryder and thanks to her paranoia, believes him to be working with the villain. Ryder then informs her he’s going to take her away from where they are, separating her from those she cares about, which she believes is a way to keep her from stopping his plans to harm the Elementals. Scene - While looking for someone, Meira stumbles into Ryder’s office and finds missing pages of a book highlighting that the Elementals, our four characters with magic, were the ones who created the villain long ago. These pages were previously missing from books she found, and upon finding them, she’s immediately suspicious and wants to know why he is hiding them. She also finds notes within these pages with details about how the villain’s creation came to be, how it happened, and she starts to believe he’s hoping to recreate this process and that he’s secretly working with the villain. Ryder appears, and when she calls him on it, he responds by saying she doesn’t understand what she’s talking about, immediately followed by his announcement that he’s sending her away, permanently separating her from her sister and friends. Meira protests, but he gives her no choice, and then proceeds to tell her he has one reason for being in this world, and it’s to protect the Elementals from anyone, her included. Assignment 7: The Incredible Importance of Setting There are three main settings throughout the novel. The story begins in downtown Denver, Colorado in modern day. We see Meira’s apartment; a tiny apartment with creaking floors and chipped paint, a kitchen so small only one person can properly fit at a time, and a dining room table and three chairs as the only real furniture. With the constant moving, they hardly have anything big to take with them, and anything accumulated within the time frame of being there is often left with the exception of the clothing they can fit into one or two bags each. Meira’s grandmother, the caretaker of her and her twin sister, has just enough money to help them survive, so technology is not a luxury they possess though it is present in the timeframe we’re in. It’s night time and incredibly dark, which makes Meira even more paranoid, as all the signs of seeing the mysterious shadows that haunt her are all around. The second setting within our story is the setting found within a majority of the novel and comes following the catalyst events. Our sorcerer uses magic to transport our characters to Brooklyn, NY, and we find ourselves in a secret facility surrounded by followers of the Elementals. The magically warded facility is called the Center, and is one of our east coast locations for the Elemental’s Legion. The Center is a massive hexagonal training arena with halls leading down each side of the main arena. In its center we see multiple boxing rings and walls lined with weaponry the Legion uses in order to train and prepare to fight the Darkness. The ceiling is glass and allows the only access to the outside world, which later shows the dark clouds of the Darkness Wielder rolling inward as it closes in on the Center. All over the room Meira sees shields and banners with a golden six pointed star. Each member of the Legion, Meira included, wears gray and silver training suits with this symbol present, representing the elements. The Elementals wear similar suits but where there are silver accents on the Legion’s suits, the Elementals wear gold to match the symbol around the Center. Within the hallways around the hexagonal arena, each hall leads to something; sleeping quarters, the infirmary, the cafeteria. One hallway houses the Elementals and only captains or those of higher status are permitted to enter. This hall houses not only the living quarters for the four Elementals, it has an individualized training arena for each Elemental. The one we see most often is the water arena. This room is large and has pearl white walls and floors and water everywhere. The high ceilings are made of glass much like the main arena. Streams flow through the room and surround a central area for the water wielder to practice and train. Upon leaving the Center in the final leg of the novel, we return outside to the streets of Brooklyn, NY. The skies are dark and filled with black clouds that unnerve all below. Those clouds roll in and out of view as the fight with the antagonist persists, with them being more dominant as our protagonist is “losing,” and seeming to disappear as she is “winning.” All around we see destruction and debris from the Darkness, sirens from cars sound all around, and fire burns along multiple storefronts and buildings. Many structures are nearly flattened by the final battle. -
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My Dream Star Trek Bridge Crew
As promised a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I'm now writing part 2 in my series of Star Trek posts. (And yes, I know the previous reference was Star Wars, but I couldn't resist.)Today I will be picking my dream crew, based not on my personal feelings about the characters, but based on how good I think they would actually be at the job. A lot of people talk about who their favorite Star Trek captain is (in the immortal words of Weird Al Yankovic, "Do you like Kirk or do you like Picard?”). Yet, there seems to be less consideration for how good would these captains actually be at their job. Same with the rest of the crew. So without further ado, here is my dream Trek bridge crew, selected for actual competence. Captain - Benjamin Sikso (DS9) It might be surprising to see that I chose neither Kirk nor Picard for the top honors. Kirk is a highly charismatic and inspiring leader, but he solves too many of his problems by punching. Likewise, Picard is an excellent peacetime diplomat, but he makes terrible decisions in times of war. Allowing the Crystalline Entity to destroy a planet just because it was alive? Refusing to upload the virus that could destroy the Borg into Hugh's brain because he was becoming conscious? On one hand, these seem like compassionate decisions, but on the other hand he is allowing the needs of the few to outweigh the needs of the many. Something my top choice knows not to do… I wasn't necessarily sold on Sisko as Captain Season 1 of DS9. He seemed much like Picard to be someone who let principles stand in the way of practical leadership decisions. For example, at one point he agrees to peacefully go into a torture box to avoid starting a violent conflict with a group of people who are clearly the aggressors in the situation. But by Season 6 we see Sisko's thinking change and evolve as a result of the prolonged conflict of the Dominion War. When he makes the difficult decision to allow Garak to destroy a Romulan ship and frame the Dominion to convince the Romulans to join the war efforts, we see a man who has properly learned how to deal with the weight of command. First Officer - Spock (Original Series) Yes, I know Spock was officially a science officer, not the First Officer, but his role as Kirk's right hand is what made him one of -- if not the most -- iconic characters in Star Trek history. He was not only able to temper Kirk's bravado with logic, but his distinct non-human perspective allowed Gene Rodenbury to express some of his most forward thinking ideas, including the fact that the Federation could often be overly interventionist, pushing for a sort of cultural relativism that wasn't often seen in mid-century media. Chief Engineer - Paul Stamets (Discovery) It can be argued whether Discovery is a worthy Trek spin off, but it can't be argued that Stamets isn't a good engineer. Not only did he invent the spore drive (an invention that no one else figured out for over a thousand years!), but he's also the only one who can pilot it. It would be silly to choose anyone else for this position given his shining qualifications. Doctor - The Doctor (Voyager) There are a lot of talented and memorable medical practitioners in Star Trek, but only the Doctor has instant access to the entire known history of medicine at his holographic fingertips. Over time as his program is left running, he develops not only an excellent bedside manner, but all the intuition and charisma one could expect from a human doctor. Tactical Officer - Worf (TNG/ DS9) Worf started out as a security officer on TNG, but the number of preventable security breaches on the Enterprise-D during his tenure shows this was not his true calling. Where he excelled was in tactical. He ran his missions on the Defiant both efficiently and intelligently, demonstrating why he is a fan favorite. Science Officer - Seven of Nine (TNG/ Picard) While Annika Hansen never officially held the title of science officer, her insight into a wide field of sciences from exo-biology to astrometrics was unparalleled. Not to mention her borg augmentations allowed her to pack a mean punch, which certainly comes in handy on away missions. Communications Officer - Hoshi Sato (Enterprise) Most communications officers have the universal translator to do the heavy lifting, but Hoshi Sato was still dealing with ironing the kinks of the new tech out in the early days. Hoshi's language learning skills were the stuff of legend. She was even able to pick up on Risian in a matter of weeks! Security Officer - Odo (DS9) As a changeling, Odo had the ability to shapeshift into whatever form he wanted, which is an obvious advantage for a security officer. Beyond his natural skillset, he also had his steely, inquisitive nature that made him a first rate detective. Helm - Erica Ortegas (Strange New Worlds) Erica Ortegas is a natural born pilot, proven by her ability to navigate through an asteroid storm outside Riegal XII thought by the rest of the crew to be impossible to survive. While Tom Parris may challenge Ortegas' claim as the ultimate hot shot pilot, Parris is also notoriously insubordinate, making him too high a risk to include. Ensigns - The Cast of Lower Decks I thought about giving this honor to Harry Kim from Voyager, the most multi-talented ensign of all time, but then I realized that would be doubling down on Janeway's insane decision to never promote him. Kim is far better served working with Seven in astrometrics or Stamets in engineering. Besides, I couldn't bring myself to make an ideal team without including the lovable hijinks of Mariner, Boimler, Tendi and Rutherford. Afterall, somebody's gotta clean out the holodeck. -
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The Three Types of Detective Duos You Find in Historical Mysteries
My cat has nothing in common with Maisie Dobbs. Let me back up. Picture the scene: it’s December 2021. My first nephew had just been born, and because of the pandemic, I couldn’t meet him in person or help my sister the way she’d helped me after my sons were born. I was feeling helpless, sad, and vulnerable as Christmas approached. So I did what any logical person would do. I went on PetFinder. Hear me out, though—we’d recently adopted a chihuahua, and my intention was to find contact information so that we could make a holiday donation to the organization that had rescued him. Instead, I saw a description of a cat who needed a home. I showed it to my husband, who raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Izzy wants a sister!” I informed him. He eyed the black cat we’d had for twelve years as she napped serenely on my favorite chair. “Izzy definitely does not want a sister.” And, okay, maybe he had a point. After all, with a mere hiss and a swat, Izzy had easily asserted her dominance first over our two beagles (may they rest in peace) and then over the chihuahua. All three dogs were terrified of her. Fast forward a week and I had convinced him; instead of a donation in honor of our dog, we made plans to adopt our second cat. Fast forward another week and our new kitty arrived on a transport van from Tennessee. I named her after my favorite fictional detective, Maisie Dobbs. Her entry into our household caused chaos. While her namesake is courageous, intelligent, and empathetic, Maisie the cat turned out to be none of these things. She’s flighty, nervous, and enjoys clawing my favorite chair—the same one Izzy loves to nap on. As my husband predicted, Izzy was less than thrilled about the arrival of her new sister. Much hissing and swatting ensued. Unlike the dogs, though, this new cat refused to submit entirely to Izzy’s dominance. Eventually, the prickly queen and the neurotic newcomer learned to co-exist. Now, they’ll curl up next to each other on my lap as I sit in my favorite chair, now decorated with festive stripes thanks to Maisie’s claws. Many fictional detectives are like Izzy used to be: happy to fly solo. After all, the trope of the lone investigator is appealing. Harry Bosch, one of my all-time favorites, embodies it. Even as I fret about Harry’s unhealthy work-life balance, I still find his all-consuming passion for justice inspiring—and very fun to read about. However, there’s an alternative to the “man on a mission” in crime fiction: the detective duo. And, boy, can it be fun to go along for the ride as a pair of detectives works together to solve murders. The first one that comes to my mind is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. By pairing his ruthlessly intelligent investigator with a kinder, more sensitive partner, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle created one of the most famous foils in all of literature—and gave readers a relatable character who could translate Holmes’s lightning-fast deductions for us, filling in the blanks that the brilliant detective would’ve been far too impatient to stop and explain himself. Duos’ dynamics vary. Sometimes—like my cats—they are thrown together by fate (or, ahem, by me) against their will. Other times, the partnership evolves naturally because the partners’ skills and attitudes complement each other. And sometimes, the only way for two people to overcome a shared trauma is to work together to solve a murder. In my debut historical mystery DEATH IN THE DETAILS, my main character, Maple, is an amateur sleuth who feels compelled to investigate a mysterious death in her small town. My decision to give her a partner was partly a practical one; she needed inside information, and Kenny—the sheriff’s deputy—could provide it. However, I also enjoyed forcing my prickly and somewhat jaded heroine into partnership with an idealistic young officer. Throughout the story, Maple helps Kenny see beyond his rose-colored glasses and he helps her reclaim some faith in humanity’s potential for good. So, in honor of Holmes and Watson, Maple and Kenny, and (to a lesser extent) my two cats, here are three types of detective duos found in historical mysteries. Agreeable Allies MAISIE DOBBS by Jacqueline Winspear (London, 1929) Maisie Dobbs and Billy Beale encounter each other in the first chapter of the first book in the series, when he arrives to help hang a sign outside the detective agency she just started… but it isn’t the first time they’ve met. Billy recognizes Maisie immediately as the nurse who saved his life in a casualty clearing station in France. Their shared history—they’ve both returned from the war with both physical and emotional wounds—and mutual respect grows into a strong friendship and partnership. Throughout the series, the former nurse and the former soldier become each other’s sounding boards, looking out for each other as they work increasingly dangerous cases and support each other through personal tragedies. Feisty Frenemies A CURIOUS BEGINNING by Deanna Raybourn (England, 1887) Veronica Speedwell and Mr. Stoker get on each other’s nerves immediately in this lively romp of a story. In Stoker’s defense, he has no idea why his beloved mentor shows up at his door unannounced with Veronica in tow and instructs him to protect her with his life. Veronica is also in the dark, but when the mentor is murdered and they fear Veronica is the next target, these two strangers must go on the run together. Both characters are passionate, strong-willed, and stubborn; as a reader, it’s great fun to watch them provoke each other and bicker enthusiastically as they hunt for a murderer and try to stay alive themselves. Bonding over Emotional Baggage A DEADLY ENDEAVOR by Jenny Adams (Philadelphia, 1921) On the surface, Edie and Gil have very little in common. She hails from one of Philly’s oldest and richest families, and he’s from the wrong side of the tracks. However, when their mutual connection to murdered girls throws them together, they find themselves hunting a serial killer. Gil’s living with shell shock from his wartime experience and mourning his wife’s death; Edie struggles with depression, the effects of a long illness, and the betrayal of someone close to her. Though their individual traumas are different, they turn out to share the same deepest fear: they don’t want to be cowards. Luckily (?), they have plenty of opportunities in this story to face their own demons—and also some very dangerous criminals. *** I find murder mysteries oddly comforting. When I open one, I know something bad has happened, but I also know I can trust the detective(s) to put everything right—or, as right as it can be put in the aftermath of brutal death. Veronica Speedwell sums up the detectives’ mission this way: “‘Murder is an act of chaos. It lies with us to bring order and method to the solution of the deed.’” Sometimes, we readers crave a lone wolf to restore order. But sometimes what we really need is connection. And sometimes—even if they may not always want to admit it—that’s what our fictional detectives need, too. View the full article -
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Write to Pitch 2024 - June
FIRST ASSIGNMENT: write your story statement. To be free of the vampires and Empire that controls her homeland. SECOND ASSIGNMENT: sketch the antagonist. Set in a world where he did not die in 1476, Tsar Vlad the Impaler is the story's antagonist. Out of spite for the man who attempted to kill him (Sultan Mehmet), Vlad grew his empire to control most of the Asian continent, specifically its Muslim populations to fracture the empire Sultan Mehmet once had. With vast regions under his control, Vlad maintains subjugation of the people by use of vampires who feed on non-Russian citizens. Vlad, however, is not satisfied with the vampires and his thirst for power makes him use human bodies (from the colonized areas) to experiment and create a more lethal monster. Vlad's only fatal flaw is his pride: he believes he is immortal, which blinds him to underestimate the protagonist. THIRD ASSIGNMENT: create a breakout title Blood Eater Daughter of the Blood Hills FOURTH ASSIGNMENT: - Two smart comparables for your novel. Blood Eater Vampires of El Norte Vampires of El Norte Castlevania FIFTH ASSIGNMENT: write your own hook line (logline) with conflict and core wound. A young woman becomes a vampire slayer to kill the Russian tsar who has taken over South Asia to free herself and her people. SIXTH ASSIGNMENT: sketch out the conditions for the inner conflict your protagonist will have. Primary conflict: rid the land of vampires Inner conflict: in her desperation to be free, she relies on rage, which threatens her to lose her humanity (becoming something who only kills) Secondary conflict: her cousin is loyal to the empire, and some of the townspeople aren’t supportive of her revolutionary movement FINAL ASSIGNMENT: sketch out your setting in detail. The book takes place in pre-modern Bangladesh and India during the early 1800s. Vlad has wrested control of it from its predecessors, and calls the entire region (Indian Subcontinent) the Southern Orient of Vlad, or Soov. The Russian Empire extends across most of Asia but stops at Arabia and Turkey since the Ottoman Empire has blocked Vlad from expanding. Most of the setting is in townships and villages, including markets and hideouts for resistance. The time period includes an industrial revolution but is not as technologically driven. While there are automobiles and the introduction of electricity, most of the setting's advancements are replaced by a science-black magic combination instead. For example, Vlad's creation of the vampires is a mix of human enhancement and jinn possession. His later creation, a werewolf, is similar in vein.
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