What We're Writing Week: Julia is Plotting and Planning

Go ahead, enlarge the heck out of it.

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: For everyone who read AT MIDNIGHT COMES THE CRY, noticed there wasn't some life-changing cliffhanger ending, and sent me an email wondering if This Was It for my mystery series, relax. I'm working on a proposal for Clare Fergusson/Russ Van Alstyne #11!

 If you did NOT notice, and you DON'T care, please don't tell me,  I'm sensitive.

So a proposal is basically an outline of the book; here are the characters, here's what's going to happen, and this is how it all turns out.  Some authors are whizzes at this; me - not so much. Part of my problem is I've never had to do this before! 

I have had to submit "proposals" before inking a new contract over the years, but to be honest, they've been more like breathless cover flap copy. I'm pretty sure I ended one with, "Can they find the killer before he strikes again?" I know, I know. I'm wincing, too.

Of course, every other proposal happened when I was still under contract to St. Martin's.  Now, I don't blame my editor or publisher for not re-signing my while I was working on  the last book. I mean, AT MIDNIGHT COMES THE CRY was overdue. By eleven years. If I were them, I'd want some evidence indicating I know what I'm going to write, and that hopefully, the book will be in by ( or before!) the end of the decade. 

Starting with story structure helps.

So, what's my process? I started with two facts, both handed to me by readers during my book tour in November/December. One was about the annual New Year's Day Polar Plunge at Lake George, NY. The other came from a couple who witnessed that polar plunge end in, if not disaster, total chaos, as spectators ignored the warning cones on the lake ice and fell in!

Now, dear readers, doesn't that sound like the perfect set-up to find a body floating in the dark and ice-clotted water?

For every book, I need to figure out what Clare and Russ (and Kevin and Hadley) are doing;  what's driving them, what problems besides the murder are they going to confront and hopefully overcome. But this time, I'm adding two more major characters.  NYDEC Ranger Paul Terrance and newbie lawyer Yixin "Joy" Zhao appeared in the last book, because each had a specific role I needed them to fulfill in order to tell that story. As I wrote forward, their parts got larger and larger, and I have to admit, I fell a little bit in love with them. So, apparently, did readers, because I've gotten countless emails and comments asking to see them again.

Sadly, I didn't plan ahead, because Paul works in the Adirondack High Peaks and Yixin was dead-set on finishing up her job in Albany and moving up the ladder in DC. So now I have a real puzzler - how do I get these two back to Millers Kill?

Walker will probably need some $$ too...

No, I'm not going to tell you, I want you to buy the book once it's out. (Now Youngest has her MSc, she's talking about law school, so I'm going to need every penny I can scratch up.) 

Have you read other authors who introduced new characters you fell for?  And for those of you in Massachusetts or Vermont, I'm appearing with Paula Munier at Odyssey Bookshop in South Hadley in March 3 and at Norwich Bookstore in Norwich on March 5. I'd love to see you there!

What We're Writing Week - Julia Sets the Scene

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: One of the things I've known for as a writer is my scenery, which is ironic, since one of the common remarks from my writing group when I was first attempting fiction was, "Great dialog, but it feels like the characters are all standing in a gray fog somewhere." Heck, with that as a baseline, I had nowhere to go but up, right? 

 

I applied myself to learning the fine art of setting the scene. I read books on writing, looking for hints about creating backgrounds that were more, well, foreground. I paid close attention to the little details of nature when I was outside, and to people's homes when inside. That last wasn't a stretch - I'm an interior design junkie. Most importantly, I read other authors, soaking up how they made the worlds their characters moved through come alive. (Two always-green recommendations for writers seeking to do the same? William Kent Krueger and Steve Hamilton.)

 

Finally, I worked on applying what I had read, learned and observed to my own writing. Did I make the grade? Well, this September, I'm teaching a class titled "When The Where is the Why – Taking your scene-setting to the next level" at the Novelists Inc. Conference. Here's the description:

Do you struggle with using setting to reinforce character? Are you confident you're making high-value choices that don't slow the reader down? In this workshop you will learn to use setting to create metaphors, enrich your prose, and create worlds your readers never want to leave.

 And here an example of scene setting from AT MIDNIGHT COMES THE CRY - a section of the book that contains (gasp) only one line of dialog.

 

He glanced back; the edge of the promontory was almost out of sight. He peeled a couple inches of bark from the east and wet sides of an alder and went on.

In this dead season, the undergrowth was more of visual screen than an impediment to hiking through. He looked for any sign of human passage as he went eastward, but this was terrain that didn't yield much, other than deer scat and rabbit pellets and, at one point, several wild turkey feathers where some bird had met his end. They were following the path of least resistance toward Terrance's coordinates, but really, how accurate could the man have been when they were all flipped sideways and under fire? He was starting to wish for the bear to show up again and lead them to their destination when his careful perusal of the ground paid off. Not scat, or feathers, or even a boot print. A tripwire.

It stretched across two tree trunks about ankle-high off the frozen leaf litter. He followed the line around one trunk to see a simple home-made alarm; a clothes pin screwed into the wood, connected to a circuit board small enough to have come out of a garage door opener.

He stood. The others had caught up with him. “It sends a radio signal, which means they're close.”

What are the settings that came alive for you in novels?

What We're Writing Week: Russ and Hadley and Joy and Harrison

 JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: You know why I love Science Fiction? Because I'm clearly a space case. I had an unusual Friday, and the change of routine was enough to make me completely forget, duh, Saturday is coming, and with it, my turn at What We're Writing Week! With no further ado, a scene set further along during Russ Van Alstyne and Hadley Knox's visit to the state attorney general's building in Albany.

“Did Flynn leave any work hanging at the end of the operation? Anything he might have been coming back to work on?” After the security routine she and the chief had gone through, Hadley knew Flynn's trips to Albany, if he'd been returning to this building, must have been logged.

“Nothing related to his investigation.” Harrison allowed himself a small smile. “We have a baby ADA who was shadowing the domestic terrorism team. Joy Zhào. I think they were a bit of a thing. He may have stopped by the office to pick her up for a date. Or whatever young people are calling it these days.”

Hadley felt frozen to her seat. A date. Some attorney. Oh, God, what if he'd been shacking up here in Albany the whole time, avoiding his large, nosy clan?

The chief was asking if they could talk to her and Harrison was pressing an phone button and talking, but all Hadley could think of was what an idiot she was going to look like if he had been ducking--

Wait. Flynn might, possibly, ghost his family for a while. She knew from experience how overwhelming that scrimmage of Irishmen could be. But when it came to work, Flynn was conscientious to a fault. Could he have taken personal leave if he'd fallen – more ice in the bottom of her stomach – for another girl? Sure. He was insanely romantic. Could she imagine him blowing off the Syracuse PD and going no-contact with his superiors? No. Never.

“Knox?”

The chief had asked her something. She faked a yawn. “Sorry. The kids kept me up late last night.”

He frowned, but whatever he might have said got swallowed by a knock on the door.

“C'mon in,” Harrison said.

“You wanted to see me?” The girl – and that was the word for her, she was at least ten years younger than Hadley – stepped into the office.

“Joy, come on in. These are some folks from where Kevin Flynn used to work, the, um...”

“Millers Kill Police Department.” The chief rose and shook the girls hand. “Russ van Alstyne. This is officer Hadley Knox.”

Joy Zhào was model-gorgeous, even in her 2-for-1 sale JC Penny suit. Flawless skin, shining dark hair, huge brown eyes with lashes that had to be extensions, except she wasn't wearing any makeup, and who paid for fancy fake lashes and didn't glam up the rest of her face? Plus, you know, college and law school, which would make her a much better match for Flynn, a guy who had kept books stacked everywhere in his apartment.

It's an extra-long excerpt because I feel extra guilty making you wait. One of the reasons I made Joy Chinese-American is because the area I write about is pretty darn whitebread, and I try to add diversity to my cast of characters whenever feasible, so they look more like, you know, real life, and less like a 1950s sitcom. 

I hope you like it!

What We're Writing Week: Julia Gives You What You Want

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Fan service. Do you know the phrase? It comes out of Japanese manga and anime, and originally meant to give the fans of these genres "what they want" - usually cartoon girls in very, very skimpy clothing. Seriously, don't Google images of the term.

But it's come to have a much larger meaning in contemporary fiction, television and movies, which have become increasingly serialized over the past two decades.  When readers or viewers spend a long time in a fictional universe (another term that's become popular to describe this serialized phenomenon) they come to know the many characters, large and small, that make up the world. They remember events that took place eight books and five movies ago. They develop insider knowledge and appreciation - they become fans.

The readers impatiently waiting for Jenn's next Library Lovers Mystery (November 2, y'all!) know everything there is to know about Briar Creek, CT. Actually, it's been my experience that passionate readers may remember more than the author does about her own creation! The audience for the Marvel Cinematic Universe's twenty five (and counting) movies may not know everything, because there are lots of, shall we say, special areas to hang out in, depending on whether you follow The Avengers, Spider-Man and/or The Guardians of the Galaxy. But I guarantee you the get the backstories, and the colorful secondary characters, and the overarching mythos. 

What do those readers and audience members want? Fan service. They want to see characters popping up again to say hi later in the story. They want references and nods to previous events that only they know about. On screen, they want to see actors who were important to earlier iterations of the story pop up in different roles - really, the best part of Wonder Woman '84 was seeing Lynda Carter's cameo. 

Sometimes, yes, fan service can be WAY overdone. If you saw Avengers Endgame, you might have cringed a little at the brief spotlight inclusion of every. Single. Lead. Character in the final battle. In Star Trek, the fans loved Khan Noonien Singh so much they dragged the guy back for two sequels, and I'm pretty sure Ricardo Montalban would have played him the third time if he hadn't happened to have passed away at the ripe old age of 88 four years prior. (By the way, if you've seen the wonderful Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan? Montalban was 62. He could, as the youths say today, get it.)

All this is to confess I'm offering up some fan service to my long-time readers. Since the plot of AT MIDNIGHT COMES THE CRY revolves around small-town white supremacists, I wanted to let people know this small town was also home to some migrant workers and immigrants. How to show this briefly? Well, I happened to have a couple who were central to I SHALL NOT WANT. Why not catch up with them and see how they're doing, in a visit to an interfaith Christmas donation drive?

 

 

“Father! We caught you!” The accented voice caught her attention.   A short, dark man in a heavy barn coat crossed the parking lot, a toddler perched on his hip. A visibly pregnant blonde was at his side. “We wanted to make a donation.” The man noticed Clare and smiled broadly. “La Reverenda!”

“Amado! Isabel!” Clare and Fr. St. Laurent had married Amado Esfuntes and Isabel Christie two – no, three – years ago. “Is this Octavia? She's so big.”

“I'm two.” The girl held up two fingers, just to make it clear. “I'm going to be a big sister.”

Clare laughed. “I can see that. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” The girl's grave demeanor and dark coat made her look like the world's tiniest supreme court judge.

Her father slid her off his hip and handed her an envelope. “Do you want to give the gift to Father?”

“Yes, please.”

Fr. St. Laurent squatted down. “Mil gracias, Octavia.”

“El placer is mío, Padre.”

Clare raised her eyebrows. “Polite in two languages. I'm impressed. My son is still at the babbling stage.”

“She started talking early,” Isabel said, “but she really took off after her second birthday. Our pediatrician thinks it might be because we're raising her with both Spanish and English.”

“Or it might be because she's a genius!” Amado held his arms out and Octavia let herself be hoisted back into the seat of honor.

“Amado.” Fr. St. Laurent looked up from the envelope. “This is too much.”

Amado shook his head. “What we have to share, we share. The farm has run a good profit this year, thanks to God--”

“Thanks to hard work,” Isabel amended.

“--and I know this helps those who need help. Including other immigrants.”

“Although Amado's not an immigrant anymore. He's an American citizen.”

The smile Amado gave his wife was slanted. “In some people's eyes, I will never not be an immigrant.”

Isabel snorted. “Well, those people are assholes. Sorry, Father. Reverend.”

 

What do you think, dear readers? Do you like a little fan service now and again? And is Lynda Carter actually secretly an Amazon? Because it doesn't look as if she's aging along with the rest of us humans.