Monday, April 25, 2011

Mystery vs. Suspense Part 2

I'm picking apart the differences between mystery and suspense with the help of T. Macdonald Skillman's book, WRITING THE THRILLER . Today's post will also be aided by Carolyn Wheat, who came up with sixteen differences between the two closely related genres.

Last week I covered the number one difference: mystery is a puzzle, suspense is a nightmare.

Number two, according to Wheat, is this: "Mystery is a power fantasy; we identify with the detective. Suspense is a victim fantasy; we identify with someone at the mercy of others."

This is fairly straight forward, but I'll illustrate it with well-known authors to drive the point home. I'm reading a Harlan Coben mystery right now called BACK SPIN. The protagonist is sports agent Myron Bolitar, who also happens to solve mysteries when they drop in his lap. The book contains elements of suspense--scary things happen to Myron as he's investigating. Bad guys try to beat him up or otherwise scare him off the case. But he sticks with it until he achieves his goal. In this book, the goal is to find the missing teen-ager. I know, for certain, that Myron will survive because there are six more books in this series. The reader identifies with Myron as he follows the clues, interviews people, and talks through the possible scenarios with his friends. We sympathize with Myron as he gains the upper hand and overcomes the bad guys.

Suspense often contain elements of mystery and horror, so it's hard to separate them sometimes, but usually in a suspense, the reader knows whodunit and get to see at least a few scenes from the antagonist's perspective. The bad guy knows that the good guy is closing in, and plans to stop the good guy. Then the reader gets to anticipate the moment when the protagonist walks into the trap.

Or the reader is privvy to some other danger lurking nearby that's unrelated to the antagonist's plans. Sometimes the antagonist has no plan. Think of the movie JAWS. The shark hasn't set out to have bikini-clad girl for lunch. She just showed up at the right time. The viewers know of the danger. The girl does not. The viewers identify with the girl, shouting at the screen, "Get out of the water!"

Consider SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, when the young woman gets dumped into the antagonist's pit. The basket of skin lotion is lowered down to her. She's frightened out of her mind, but she doesn't have a clue (yet) what's in store for her. We do. And we're terrified for her. We feel sympathy for the victim and hope she makes it out okay.

More about mystery and suspense coming next week. Same bat time, same bat channel.

-Sonja

Monday, April 18, 2011

Mystery vs. Suspense Part 1

I checked out a book from the library last week called WRITING THE THRILLER by T. Macdonald Skillman. She started off the book in an interesting place: defining suspense fiction. Suspense (or thriller) fiction is different from a mystery. Sure, some mysteries contains suspense, and some suspense stories contain a mystery. But there are significant differences in the contents, presentation, and overall structure in the two genres. For the next several posts I'd like to explore some of these differences. Today I'll start with the biggest difference.

Skillman says, "The focus of a mystery novel is the puzzle. A crime has been committed. Whodunit? Howdunit? Whydunit?"

As the protagonist (detective, private investigator, amateur) goes about solving the crime, there's usually a strong element of suspense. There are various sorts of danger, both for the protagonist and the other major characters. But Skillman points out that most mysteries today are series books, and in a series, the protagonist rarely dies. Because of this, readers aren't too concerned about the fate of the protagonist. He's bound to live through the book. He might get a good scare, he might get hurt, someone close to him might get hurt, but he's going to make it through to the end of the book alive and ready to take on the next mystery.

Agatha Christie killed off Hercule Poirot, but her publisher refused to release the book until the end of Christie's career. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was force to resurrect Sherlock Holmes after he was killed. But these are exceptions. Fans of Kinsey Milhone, Eve Dallas, and Myron Bolitar expect that the heroes of these books will be solving crimes until the authors themselves are no longer around to write stories. (Rest in peace, Robert Parker ~ We'll all miss Spenser, Jesse Stone, and Sunny Randall.)

If mystery is a puzzle, then suspense is emotional. "It's surprise and confusion and fear and anticipation," says Skillman. "It's danger. Immediate danger. It's worrying about what's going to happen, not about the action taking place at the moment." Skillman goes on to say, "A true suspense novel is a book about characters who find themselves trapped in a series of increasingly frightening incidents that force them to take extraordinary steps to survive."

Mystery engages our mind. Suspense engages our emotions. More on this in the next post. For what it's worth.

-Sonja

Friday, April 15, 2011

I've been publicly critiqued

A group of 14 published mystery/suspense authors run a blog site called The Kill Zone. Last month, they asked readers to submit the first page of their novel for critique by one of the 14. I submitted the first page of my WIP, Cassandra's Curse. Check it out! It's the April 13th post. The reviewer brought up some great points, but the comments left by other authors just tripled the fun for me.

Here's the address: http://killzoneauthors.blogspot.com/

-Sonja

Monday, April 4, 2011

Weakest Scenes

In my never-ending study of the craft of writing, I came across this tidbit I need to share. I found it in James Scott Bell's book, Revision & Self-Editing. He challenges writers to identify the ten weakest scenes in our current WIP, then follow these instructions:

1. List the scenes in order, making the weakest scene number one, the next weakest number two, and so on.

2. Cut scene number one from the manuscript.

3. Move to scene number two and fix it. Do that by:
a. Identifying the objective in the scene and who holds it
b. Identify the obstacle to that objective
c. Identify the outcome of the scene
d. Intensify the objective, obstacle, and/or outcome somehow (note: he offers ideas on how to do this in the book)

4. Rinse and repeat for the next eight weak scenes.

I'm having a tough time implementing this exercise. How do I identify my weakest scenes? They're all fabulous! Hah. Just kidding. They're aren't all fabulous, but that perfectly illustrates my point: I'm too biased about my work. There are days when ALL the scenes stink. Other days, they're all glorious.

So for identification purposes, I'll need to rely on my critique partners.

Once they've laid it all out for me, on to number 2, cutting the weakest scene. Again, I'm not sure I'll be able to, but I can always save it in another file just in case I figure out a way to fix it or decide I can't live without it.

Since I haven't progressed past number 1 above, I won't be able to comment on how number 3 is going for me, but I challenge YOU, faithful readers/writers, to take this Bell challenge and see how it impacts your WIP. Leave me a comment and let me how it works.

For what it's worth,

-Sonja

Monday, March 28, 2011

What'd You Say Your Name Was?

My current WIP contains a character named Michael Dogan. On a whim, I typed that name into a Google search engine and found seven pages of results to wade through. Then I plugged my character into Facebook and found over 20 people with the same name.

With the population of the world as it now stands, it seems impossible for authors to create a truly unique name for a character. Throckmorton Cumberbun isn't currently in use by another human on the face of the planet. Neither is Fontleroy Woodenbottom. Or Hortence Pickle. But those are terrible names for any character, let alone a protagonist. (Unless the conflict in their life centers completely around their horrific name.)

Challenge: Can you come up with a wholly unique character name that won't result in regular beatings on the school playground for said character? Post your name offerings in the comments section, please! I'd love to see what you come up with.

-Sonja

Monday, March 21, 2011

Of all the stupid things...

I want to take a brief moment away from my study of dialogue to discuss a peeve of mine. I recently read a mystery novel with a female FBI protagonist. Naming the book will only offend the author, and I don't like doing that, so I won't. But I can't read anything else by her for this reason: the FBI agent/protagonist did something profoundly stupid, based on an unbelievable motivation.

You've all seen this before in the movies. The Too-Stupid-To-Live teen-age girl is home alone on a dark and stormy night. The news program just announced that a crazed killer is on the loose--in her neighborhood. Then a creepy noise comes from the attic. For some reason, the movie-maker wants her up in that attic. So she's sent up, for whatever reason. Bravely, she tiptoes up the stairs, listening hard, determined to investigate. Viewers are all screaming at her "GET OUT AND CALL THE POLICE!" But this female continues up the stairs, thinking herself a brave young thing. And viewers wonder how she managed to stay alive until this point in her life, because foolish acts like this can only lead to one thing, and it ain't a Medal of Valor.

The problem is her motivation. If the baby she's in charge of watching is currently sleeping in a crib in the attic, THEN she's got the proper motivation to investigate strange noises coming from the attic (and the fact that she put the child in the attic gives the reader a neat look into the sitter's psyche). If she's got martial arts training, a nine-millimeter handgun in her right hand, and a cell phone preprogrammed with 9-1-1 in her left hand, THEN she's got a decent motivation for heading up the stairs. If she's taking a dare from her boyfriend, who accuses her of being a wimp, that probably won't work.

Character motivations HAVE to be sufficient cause for doing something that would normally be down-right stupid. Even with a gun in one hand, what kind of FBI agent walks into a dangerous situation, KNOWING it's dangerous, without calling for back-up first? What kind of agent sees her partner injured, unconscious, and bleeding to death, but instead of rendering immediate aid, decides to trap the killer first? What kind of agent plans to trap the killer in his own house, but then hides in a closet when she realizes he took the bait and he's inside the house with her? What kind of agent, upon confronting the murderer who's just attacked and possibly killed her partner, instead of shooting first and asking questions later, tries to have a cogent conversation with said killer? It defies logic.

The author offered motivations for all the points I brought up, but I found them weak. Yeah, I can buy bad cell coverage as the reason for not seeking back-up, but the hiding in the closet and the ask-questions-first plot points left me frustrated. Granted, the author is published and she's crafted something that a publisher wanted, but I found the story unbelievable.

If you need your character to do something that's potentially dangerous, back it up with proper motivation! Or at least make the only alternative a more stupid move. Nothing kills the story faster than bad reasoning.

-Sonja

Monday, March 14, 2011

Dialogue #6

Chris Roerden's book, Don't Murder Your Mystery, has a fabulous chapter on dialogue, and I've been picking it apart and sharing it with you, my three loyal blog readers, for the past several posts. This is the last post regarding information from her book.

Roerden says, "Rapid-fire dialogue that goes on for more than two pages might lose it's punch." By altering the pacing of long passages of dialogue, writers can ensure their readers won't get tired too quickly. To reduce the pace of a fast-moving scene, use one of these methods (note: I didn't include all of the methods Roerden did - pick up the book if you want to know them all):

1. Break up dialogue with exposition.
2. Make sentences and paragraphs longer.
3. Add description.
4. Change the setting. (For example: a couple talking on a porch swing in the moonlight vs. a couple shouting the identical words over the roar of city traffic.)

To increase the pace of a slow-moving scene, try these methods:

1. Eliminate words, sentences, and gestures that are non-essential and offer no conflict, characterization, or plot advancement.
2. Revise, striving for rapid-fire confrontation.

By alternating the pace of long passages of dialogue, you have the potential to increase tension and keep the reader turning pages.

-Sonja