Those Meddling Kids

Anyone with any cartoon knowledge knows it is coming. The mask is ripped away revealing that the spooky specter in the episode was…the caretaker… the fisherman… the diner owner?

But whoever the villain was in the Scooby Doo episode, he or she would always boast that they would have gotten away with it—if it weren’t for those meddling kids.

But why should they meddle? In the construction of a cozy mystery, the amateur protagonist needs a motive to take on the case—usually one that does not involve wolfing down Scooby Snacks. He also needs a reason not to just pick up the phone and dial 9-1-1. Generally, in real life, when crime happens, you call the police. You don’t dig out your fingerprint kit and go after the baddies yourself. So why should the cozy detective?

First, the amateur detective needs a reason to get involved. And this generally occurs when the crime touches her personally—but not too personally. Perhaps the protagonist had a passing acquaintance with the victim; perhaps he or she found the body. One word of caution though—if the victim is too close to the sleuth, genuine grief is difficult to write and emotionally draining to read—not necessarily something you desire in light mystery.

Or maybe the detective needs to get involved because he (or someone he cares about) is accused of the crime. If not taken downtown and booked—he is considered enough of a suspect to threaten his reputation, status, or income. In one of Joanne Fluke’s mysteries, Hannah Swensen was motivated to solve the crime that occurred in her cookie shop because the police closed her down when the victim was found there. Hannah needed a place to bake her cookies: sufficient motivation.

Of course, after the amateur has established some credible crime-solving skills, people might then be able to call her in for help, but until then, the author needs to knock off hapless victims in the protagonist’s periphery.

In a true cozy, the amateur sleuth also needs a reason not to leave the investigation solely to the police.

Perhaps the amateur is especially gifted or positioned to be able to solve the crime better than the police. She is in the right place or has exceptional access to the suspects. And then there’s the isolated location, snowstorm, or other natural disaster that keep the police from the scene of the crime.

Or perhaps the police don’t have the resources or experience to carry out an effective investigation. Jessica Fletcher often had to assist small-town sheriff Amos Tupper in “Murder, She Wrote.” But then again, the per capita homicide rate in Cabot Cove would justify a team of crack investigators, their own forensics lab, and martial law. If not incompetent, perhaps the police, or some government official is corrupt and hindering the official investigation. Be forewarned though, cops don’t like it when the police are betrayed as dolts and villains, and the blundering sheriff has become a bit of a cliché.

Or maybe the sleuth is a witness of some sort, but the police will not take her seriously. “I know you’re a nice lady, but there is no sign of a mutilated headless corpse there now. Perhaps you’ve been working too hard.”

Or maybe the death has already been dismissed as an accidental or suicide. Accidental deaths are a great cover for murder and the perfect excuse for an amateur to investigate unhindered by the police. One interesting, but slightly macabre plot-development tool is to scan the headlines for unusual accidental deaths, and then figure out how to murder someone to make it appear like that accident.

But once the amateur is fully involved in the investigation, he may work in tandem with or in opposition to the police. After all, we have a villain to unmask. I’ve got my money on the creepy caretaker.

Elements of Mystery Fiction: Character Call

While I plot and begin writing my second, I thought I'd revisit the basics of mystery writing.

First, the characters:

Protagonist--this is the detective, professional or amateur, who will solve the crime.

Villain--this is the person (or people) who committed the crime.

Victim--the person (or people) who is harmed (often killed) by the crime.

Now, you could have a mystery with only these people, but it would be a little too easy to solve. So lets add some more.

Red herrings--these are other people who might have had motive, means, or opportunity to kill the victim. This complicates the mystery.

A sidekick--a helper for the detective. A sidekick is also a help to the writer, since the detective and sidekick can discuss the case, revealing all kinds of information to the reader in dialogue.

Antagonist--this person may not have committed a crime, but makes life difficult for the protagonist. Which, in fiction, is a good thing.

Experts--especially if the detective is an amateur, he or she may need to draw on the input of experts. Cops, coroners, private detectives--these may figure in the story, often in conflict with the amateur detective.

Family, friends, and romantic interest--no man is an island. But the more family a detective has, the more people the author has to account for. But they do make for interesting subplots and interactions.

Community--general people the characters interact with. They may provide a number of service from yielding clues, making lunch, or just rounding out the picture.

And thanks, Shelly, for pointing out the typo.

And now the wait begins

I like collecting advice from other writers. One thing that has stuck with me is to expect rejection. And now that I've emailed off my proposals, that's what I'm doing.

Now, don't get all Pollyanna on me and tell me I need to believe in my dreams. People who believe in dreams are most often delusional.

The standard answer to a query or a proposal is a "no." That is, if you even get an answer at all. To not know that is to set yourself up for disappointment and dejection from the beginning.

While there are an endless variety of attitudes aspiring writers can have, ranging from the Eyorian hack(It ain't never going to happen) to the Disneyesque pre-published (believe in yourself, and all your dreams will come true), I probably fall somewhere in the mucky middle of realism.

New authors get published all the time.

but...

Most manuscripts are rejected.

Balancing these two is perhaps the healthiest medium for me.

Writing is a lot like a lottery in that, the odds are slim.

Writing is unlike the lottery in that, you can change the odds. Honing craft, and working and editing the manuscript take time, but also yield results. Preparing a professional query/pitch/proposal also ups the odds.

But even so, there are still so many factors the writer cannot control.

You cannot control the economy, and how many other books are competing for fewer slots the publisher is trying to fill.

You cannot control the market and which genres and trends are likely to sell.

You cannot control the subjective response of the reader. What one agent or editor might love, another might hate.

And you cannot control the competition. Even if you produce a great manuscript, you will always run the risk of someone popping in with an even better one.

So what is the aspiring writer to do? Keep plugging away. Don't think of being published as the only end to your writing. Consider it a bonus--a distinct, but distant possibility. Keep your feet grounded in reality, and work toward your dreams.

But never give up your day job.

The Power of "Send"

Okay, one proposal sent, and I just need to spiffy up a cover letter and tweak a few things to personalized the second. Whew... That's a relief.

Or is it?

Pressing the send button on my email proposal had to be one of the most gut-wrenching, anxiety-producing aspects of writing so far.

Consider this analogy. Completing a manuscript is like having a baby. The gestation period may vary from months to years, but once complete, is a joy. You count its fingers and toes, and check to see if it has a beginning, middle, and end. It's all yours and it even looks like you.

Sending out a manuscript is like sending your child off to kindergarten--alone--in a rough neighborhood. You hope it will be ok, but there's nothing you can do about it now--only pray that it doesn't pick up a biker boyfriend and return home covered in tattoos.

Okay, I have metaphor issues.

But there is now one more manuscript out there trying to make its way in the cruel world of agents and publishers. Auditioning, in a sense, trying to break into a competitive field with little opportunity for financial reward.

Does it even make sense?

Only to writers. And now on to the second book.

Writing Avoidance

My last post was titled, "Don't Wake Me Up." I considered naming this one "Okay, Go Ahead and Wake Me Up."

I've experienced another bout of 'writing avoidance.'

Now, I've heard of writing avoidance before. It is the tendency for writers to drag their feet on their latest project, perhaps as an attempt to shield themselves from failure. The project that is never completed can never be rejected. And at first, I really thought this was a stupid piece of psycho-babble.

Until I caught myself doing it three times.

I hit a patch of avoidance before I finished my draft, just before I finished my editing, and now again, as I'm preparing a proposal. It is not something you plan to do. It is something you catch yourself doing.

I don't know what the solution is. Maybe more self-discipline. Maybe a good swift kick.

Anybody willing to give me a good kick?

Don't Wake Me Up: Post-Conference Report

I think I dreamed I attended the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer's Conference (Write His Answer) last week. But I've been assured that the events I am about to relate to you actually happened. Even so, I don't have signed affidavits, so take this all with a grain of salt.

First of all, I have to say, I loved the conference. I got a lot out of the workshops and continuing sessions. I hope to attend again, and will probably become a regular.

I have to say, the thing that blew me away was the response to my "pitch."

Now I don't know that I have the whole "pitching" thing down. How much to share with each appointment has proven to be a challenge for me. I tried to vary the length based on how interested I thought the agent or editor might be, and found that to be a problem. I think I made one pitch overly short, and ended up making another editor glaze over.

But, out of my appointments, I did leave with two requests for proposals--one from an agent and one from a publisher. And I was ecstatic about that. Yes, it was more than I was expecting. The publisher's representative asked to read a portion and the synopsis during the appointment, and was highly enthusiastic about my manuscript, comparing it to several authors--um, best-selling authors (blush and squeal).

I also scheduled a paid critique, and was told that I had wasted my money--by the author doing the crit. "It is ready," she said. And then proceeded to tell me she read it aloud in the bookstore/registration area, and everybody was cracking up. (Yes, it is supposed to be funny.) I had wondered if she were exaggerating, but I have confirmation on that one. Unreal. Pinch me. No--let me keep dreaming.

I had one of those weeks where reality has surpassed not only my expectations, but my daydreams as well. Considering my original plans were to finish the manuscript, query it around (for experience sake) and the put it and the rejections into a drawer. So anything from here on is only icing on the cake. And I wasn't even expecting cake.

Well, now it is time to come back down to earth. Today is laundry day, and I'm going to start working on the proposal. Fortunately I took two workshops that touched on how to prepare one--and got insight on that from the agent, the publisher's representative, and the author that prepared my critique. Too bad their information included a few contradictions. I guess maybe I should have taken just one class.

More later this week on proposals...as I try to figure them out.

The One Sheet

While finishing editing my manuscript, I also started drafting some promotional material--a query letter, synopsis, and most recently, a one sheet.

Now, the specifications for a "one sheet" (a one-page document used to pitch to agents and editors personally) don't seem to be as rigid as those for preparing a manuscript. But most one sheets I've seen contain the following elements.

A tag line. One brief sentence attempting to get the agent's attention.

A brief synopsis or "hook." A few sentences introducing the plot of the book, much like one would include in a good, concise query letter.

A brief bio of the author and his or her writing history. This was hard for me. I'm not used to writing about myself.

A photograph. Even harder. I hate having pictures taken. I might need to get a professional portrait done.

Contact information. Double checking for typos.

Unlike manuscript preparation, some creativity is allowed--the use of a frame, layout, even a tiny splash of color.

Bad ideas? Colored paper, glitter, unusual fonts, too much clip art. In short, anything that says 'tacky' or 'unprofessional.'