Monday, May 9, 2011

The "Look What I Know" Syndrome

I'm going to make a confession. I'm an avid reader of Entertainment Weekly, especially when it comes to the book and movie review sections. Most of the time I think the reviewers are pretty spot on when it comes to the latest film out in theaters or the newest hardcovers lining the shelves. So, it came as no surprise that I came across an interesting review by Keith Staskiewicz and his thoughts on the newest novel by Paul McEuen entitled *Spiral.
Spiral by Paul McEuen

This is what Staskiewicz says concerning McEuen's novel:
❝There is a certain tendency among authors, particularly of thrillers, to exhibit something I call Look What I Know syndrome. Symptoms include unnecessary technical specificity (a rifle is never simply a rifle, it's an M4A1 carbine with adjustable scope), acronym overload, and awkwardly shoehorned dialogue on topics like Masonic history and airplane manufacture that reads like Wikipedia articles in quotation marks.❞
When I read this, quite frankly, I laughed. How completely true is Staskiewicz's assessment of what some authors choose to use when it comes to drawing a picture for the reader. Although I have yet to read McEuen's thriller, this, my friends, sounds like a classic case of telling and not showing. How many of us out there suffer from this syndrome?

Let's start by taking a look at some of the more obviously placed clues in the above quote. Dan Brown, it seems, has become the whipping boy for bad writing. You will find wonderfully written (sarcasm intended) and oddly in-depth descriptions, with rather clumsy phrasing, in Dan Brown's novels The Da Vinci Code and The Lost Symbol. According to The Telegraph, Edinburgh professor of linguistics Geoffrey Pullum says, "Brown's writing is not just bad; it is staggeringly, clumsily, thoughtlessly, almost ingeniously bad." This article, entitled "The Lost Symbol and The Da Vinci Code author Dan Brown's 20 Worst Sentences," is quite humorous with wonderfully bad quotes from numerous Brown novels. If you need a laugh, check it out. I wanted to point out a couple of quotes column author Tom Chivers uses; ones that clearly show Brown firmly entrenched in the "Look What I Know" syndrome.
The Da Vinci Code
by Dan Brown
The Lost Symbol, Chapter 1:  He was sitting all alone in the enormous cabin of a Falcon 2000EX corporate jet as it bounced its way through turbulence. In the background, the dual Pratt & Whitney engines hummed evenly.
The Da Vinci Code, Chapter 17:  Yanking his Manurhin MR-93 revolver from his shoulder holster, the captain dashed out of the office.
Just a little too much information is going through the character's head. What do you think?

Brown is also found guilty of the overuse of acronyms in his novel Deception Point, which, surprise, surprise, is about a four-letter agency called NASA. But enough picking on poor Dan Brown. There are other writers out there who suffer from the "Look What I Know" syndrome. Perhaps you're one of them?

But how do we avoid this pitfall? As writers, we want to show our knowledge and that, yes, we did the research and we know what we're talking about. Let's see how you can fix these problems in your current WIP:

  • Look at your current manuscript and take a scene containing dialogue. In that scene, are you trying to explain something to the reader that the characters already know? If so, then you're suffering from the "Look What I Know" syndrome. In order to correct informative dialogue, move it into the thoughts of your viewpoint character.
  • Information Dumps -- I think each and every writer suffers from information dumps. I've read many books where it seems the author felt the need to dump large blocks of info into the text at inconvenient, pace-slowing places. Don't stop the action of a scene to describe every little bit of what's going on in the scene. Keep that action moving and bring out parts of necessary information as the scene is moving forward. In all, keep a steady pace with the action.
  • If you're considering using an explanation of something technical or historical that pertains to the scene at hand, then make sure this information is understandable through your character's POV. Don't have a construction worker notice every element going into a medical scene. If that character doesn't know the first thing about medicine, then let the reader see that. Bring it down (or up) to that character's educational level.
  • Make sure your character has time to notice what he/she is doing, or else your description will sound ridiculous. Let's take the The Da Vinci Code example above -- Is this character actually going to notice he's holding a Manurhin MR-93? No! The scene is moving to quickly for him to even care about what he's holding in his hand. Sometimes simply deleting the details makes a story more believable.
Now that you know what the "Look What I Know" syndrome consists of, go back to your current manuscript and see if you suffer from the same symptoms as does Dan Brown and many other published authors out there on the market. Cut back some on the overwriting and you'll see that this simple task can create a much cleaner, coherent manuscript. Don't worry, we all make the mistake of adding more than we need to when it comes to our writing. In short, as always, show don't tell!

Do you tend to suffer from the "Look What I know" syndrome? What symptoms do you display that lead you to believe you over explain too much in your writing? Who's an author who really grates on your nerves because he/she does way too much overwriting?

*This review can be found in the April 1, 2011 publication, edition #1148.


*Stop by The Random Book Review and check out the thriller I reviewed this week!

Sunday, May 1, 2011

I write trash and mighty proud of it!



“Trashy novels", otherwise described as “light” or “low-brow” fiction, have been condemned publicly, but enjoyed privately even by their most severe judges. Since I have become aware of the trashiness in my own writing, and having faced it and embraced it, I feel that the genre deserves an acquittal. So let´s hear it for the good old trash novels!

I constantly hear literary critics bemoaning the lack of fine English prose on the market. Most writers want to be popular and rich, rather than immortal; therefore they strive to reach a massive market. Yet, you still find some exceptional scribblers in commercial fiction who can write circles around the masters and you find someone like Ian McEwan who writes in circles. I tend to get lost in the perfection of his artistic prose (Sorry, Mr. McEwan, but certainly you don´t need more accolades.)


It is a fact that current bestseller lists in America seldom contain high-brow literature, but many genre authors or thriller writers, such as the omnipresent Dan Brown and Dean Koontz, have acquired the fame that once belonged to dead white poets. And in a genre-era, making up thrillers, epic fantasy or vampire sagas is seen as a respectable career. Even erotica is getting some recognition.

With age, plenty of books have obtained the title of high-brow literature. Most nineteenth-century novels were sold as little more than pulp fiction to be serialized in newspapers and magazines. Neither Balzac, while scribbling in a dingy Paris loft, nor Dickens, peddling his stories to London papers, could have ever imagined they would, some day, be revered as literary saints.


Novelists who in their day wrote just “for the heck of it” like Louis L’Amour, Ian Fleming, Zane Grey, Ira Levin and Stephen King, are now regarded as icons in their fields. Gone with the Wind has grown beyond the label of romantic fiction. It is considered a segment of Civil War narrative, a great piece of historical writing, and a fine example of regional literature.



Maybe in a hundred years or so, Jackie Collins, Judith Krantz and other symbols of the 80s and 90s romantic trash will be revisited and revalued. I have my own list of bestselling twentieth- century writers who need some reappraisal: Leon Uris, Harold Robbins, and my beloved Jacqueline Susann who wrote Hollywood fables with sad endings and strong morals.



Obviously selling well and having a large following cold make a writer famous or infamous, but doesn’t elevate his/her work into “art”, and yet most of us would be contented to be published, make a living out of our craft, and bond with kind readers who enjoy what we have to say. We know that life can be overwhelming; sometimes we need to escape to some fantasy land or to have a good time via light and comforting reading. Is that so wrong?


The problem with the so-called trashy novels boils down to mere stereotyping and prejudice. The heirs of 19th century dime-novels are charged with being poorly written, containing sensationalistic material, being overly light or unrealistic. Far worse, they are accused of handing out immoral messages that force the reader to yearn for the wrong objectives or develop false romantic expectations.


It´s a harsh and trivial judgment since even the most edifying books, even the Holy Bible, could be misinterpreted according to the readers’ degree of neurosis, immaturity or impressionability. Blaming books for the sad state of things is a feeble cop out. To say that the Harry Potter series promotes witchcraft or Twilight endorses necrophilia just means that either the readers or the critics are suffering from a serious problem, they can´t differentiate between fantasy and reality.

Trashy novels are not be literary masterpieces, but they serve a purpose therefore deserve some respect. Don´t you agree? Time to confess guilty pleasures. Share with us your favorite trashy novels and why you love them.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Ten Tips for Building Suspense in a Novel

What makes you come back to that novel sitting on your bedstand night after night? Is there a powerful reason to keep reading it other than the fact that you paid money for the darn book and you don’t want it to go to waste?

For some readers, it’s curiosity. Once they’ve committed to a novel, they have to know what happens, period. For others, it’s a compelling character that makes them laugh every time he shows up. Or perhaps they have fallen in love with the author’s voice.

For me, it’s the plot. The not knowing what’s going to happen next. But there are two caveats for the story to hold my interest: either the plot has to be somewhat unpredictable or the premise must pose a “big question” that keeps me hooked until the end of the novel.

As writers, we have an arsenal of tools at our disposal to help construct our plots. Perhaps one of our best tools is suspense.


Suspense can be your novel's best friend.


Suspense, the antidote for boredom

Suspense is what will keep your readers guessing and coming back to your book until they reach the end. (And I don’t mean a thriller. Suspense should be found in any genre.) But injecting intrigue in your plot can be tricky. It must be handled with care for too much of it could make the reader confused and frustrated, and too little could bore him to tears. Finding the perfect balance is one of the hardest things we writers have to learn.

A few years ago, I took an excellent writing class called Revising Fiction. The instructor, Kirt Hickman, recommends a series of practical tips for building tension in a novel. I have adapted and condensed the ones I’ve found most helpful.

1. Surprise/mislead the reader.

Who doesn’t love surprises? Especially when we think we know exactly where a story is going. If a character does or says something unexpected, the reader will be shaken (or at the very least awakened from his blissful sleep.) The archetypal shapeshifter works wonderfully for this purpose. Surprises can range from having a character smile at someone before smacking him across the face, to having a trusted friend betray your innocent hero. Surprises can also come in the form of well-guarded secrets exposed at the right time.

2. Have a ruthless/powerful antagonist.

Powerful doesn’t necessarily mean “rich.” It could just be someone who has many advantages over the heroine (beauty, confidence, the love interest’s affection, etc.) Hickman recommends an especially violent character, but I think it really depends on what genre you’re writing. If your book is lighter, a violent character obviously doesn’t belong, but you can still have an antagonist powerful enough to torment the main character (and the reader!)

3. The nightmare comes true.

Though we may feel inclined to protect our characters (they’re our babies, after all), the truth is that when things go too smoothly it can be very boring for the reader. Remember what Leo Tolstoy wrote at the beginning of Anna Karenina: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” In other words, bad things should happen to your protagonist (whether you like it or not.)

Think of the worst thing that could happen to your main character. Now do it. (This can include taking away the thing that she values the most—be it an object, a loved one, a job, etc.) Think about Scarlett in Gone with the Wind. She loses her parents, her slaves, her money, her childhood crush (Ashley), her daughter and her true love (Rhett).

4. Give your character a phobia/fear to confront.

When a particular phobia or weakness is established early on in the text, it can be a good pay off for the reader when the character is forced to confront it. This could represent (when done right) a great moment of tension in the story. (Just picture your reader with her fingers clutching the pages of your book. Now that’s a beautiful image!)

Think of Alfred Hitchcock’s "Vertigo." The protagonist, Scottie (played by James Stewart), suffers from acrophobia and has to confront it twice to save the woman he loves. He fails the first time but succeeds the second time.

Scottie's fear of heights is tested in "Vertigo" (1958)

The same goes for the protagonist of "Jaws" (Roy Scheider.) The one thing he fears the most is the water. He could have let the marine biologist and the professional shark hunter go after the killer shark attacking the beach-goers in his small shore town, but his strong sense of duty forces him to go with them. In the end, he has to confront both the shark and the ocean after the boat is destroyed.

5. Show the danger is real.

The reader won’t worry too much about your main character if you’re constantly sheltering her from tragedy. In order to warn the reader that bad things may in fact happen to the protagonist, you must show the danger is real and can reach anyone. How do you do this? By hurting your main character or killing someone whom she cares about (as painful as that may be for you, gulp.) This raises the hero’s personal stakes and gives you an opportunity to include an emotional moment in your novel.

6. Never make things easy for your main character.

Have you noticed that us human-types don’t usually appreciate things that are easily attained? (Remember when your mom/grandmother told you to “play hard to get” with that guy you liked? Well, she said it for a reason! It’s human nature to want those things we can’t have.) The same is true for our characters. If their goals come to them effortlessly, they won’t value them as much as if they suffer to get them (neither will your reader.) If readers witness the many obstacles the protagonist must overcome to achieve her goal, they will cheer for her when she succeeds in the end.

7. Include an external circumstance or event beyond the character’s control.

Think about the movie "Titanic." Remember how the imminent sinking of the ship added suspense and tension to an otherwise predictable plot? I watched this movie in the theatre and not a peep was heard during those harsh scenes where masses of characters were dying and there was nothing Rose could do to change her situation.


The environment “turns loose” on Jack and Rose in "Titanic" (1997)

This doesn’t mean that every novel should have a natural disaster. Other external incidents can include wars, epidemics, political factors (ruthless dictators, protests, etc) or economical circumstances (think "The Pursuit of Happyness" or "Angela’s Ashes.")

8. Haunt your character with a past failure.

Characters should have flaws. We all know that. But if you include a past failure, it will add another layer to your story. The character will seem more real if the reader believes that the hero had a past before the novel started. Especially if this bad experience still affects his present decisions and his confidence to succeed in whatever mission he’s now encountering. Insecurities in characters are a good thing because as readers, we want to see them become stronger and grow.

9. Impose a deadline.

Do you hold your breath when you watch your favorite athlete (team, horse, loved one) during a race? Does your pulse quicken? Are you unable or unwilling to take your eyes away from the competition? (Even if you don’t watch any sports, humor me please.) Well, the same thing happens when a beloved character must beat a ticking clock to achieve an objective (especially if the consequences of not making it on time are disastrous.) There doesn’t always have to be a clock (though some novels/films use this element.) What matters is that you create a sense of urgency and transmit it to your reader. If you ever saw the movie "Nick of Time", starring Johnny Depp, you know exactly what I mean. A less literal example is the film "Poseidon". The characters are on a race against time to reach the top (in this case, the bottom) of the ship before it drowns. Many romantic comedies use this device, too. The protagonist must reach the love interest before she marries someone else or gets on a plane that will take her to a faraway land (for good!)



In "Back to the Future" (1985), Marty McFly must make his parents fall in love and then return to the time machine (the DeLorean) before lightning strikes the clock tower. Or else he'll cease to exist.

10. Add a final twist near the end of the novel.

Ideally, endings shouldn’t be predictable. The contradiction is that they shouldn’t be inconsistent with the plot, either. In other words, you shouldn’t write a tragic ending in your romantic comedy only because you don’t want the audience to predict the outcome. What you could do is come up with one surprise or twist for the reader that in retrospect seems inevitable. The reader should finish the book realizing that it couldn’t have ended any other way. An excellent example that Hickman offered in class is the movie "Shrek." We all know that Princess Fiona and Shrek will end up together (inevitable). The twist is that instead of Fiona staying a beautiful princess forever, she turns into an ogre, just like Shrek (surprise.) Upon reflection, we realize that an ogre and a princess wouldn’t have fit well together. Fiona had to become an ogre. Surprising inevitability.

Perhaps this last caveat is what makes endings so difficult. There must be a balance between giving the reader a satisfactory ending, but making it unique enough so that the reader can’t predict every bit of dialogue to the letter.

Use a combination of suspense builders that seem appropriate for your story and genre. Many successful novels and films do. Just take a look at this year’s Oscar-winning film "The King’s Speech" and you’ll find many of them.


King George VI, aka Bertie, must confront his fear of
public speaking in "The King’s Speech" (2010)

What about you: What tools have you found more useful for adding suspense in your novel? Do you have a hard time coming up with a satisfactory ending?