betemptedtogointoalengthyBackstoryabouthow,whenshewasachild,shelovedvisitingthe ranch,howshechasedtheprairiedogsandrodehorsesthroughthetallgrasses,andhowitgaveher anescapefromanalcoholicmother.Imightgoontorecallaconversationshehadwithheruncle, howshewaslikeadaughtertohim,andhowhehadoneno-accountson.Icouldevensaythatshe’d spentthelastfiveyearsasalawyerinMinneapolis,andwasburnedoutafterwinningachildabuse case,andwantedafreshstartbecausethecaseremindedhertoomuchofherownlife.Icouldsay allthat.Butit’s way toomuchinformationforthebeginningofabook,andreally,itgivesawaythe punchline.Wewantourreaderstodiscoverallthisalongtheway.
Instead,I’llpareitdowntotheessentials:
“Shecouldn’tbelievethatUncleHenryhadlefthertheranchinsteadofBillyBob.Norcouldshe believeshe’dabandonedherlawpractice,especiallynow,afterthevictoriesofherlastcase.But maybeheruncleknewherbetterthansheknewherself,hadheardthesilentpleadingsofherheart. Evennow,thewideexpanseoftheblueskyfilledhersoullikeaspringbreezeafteragrueling winter,drawingherbacktotheland.”
Okay,eventhatmightbetoomuch,butdoesn’titraisealotmorequestionsforthereader?What silentpleadings?Whatcase,andwhywouldsheleave?WhoisBillyBob?Andwhathappenedasa childtokeephertetheredtotheland?Allthesequestionsarebreadcrumbstodrawthereader furtherintothestory.
Inmybook Flee the Night ,thebookopenswithmyheroine,Laceyonatrain,sittingnexttoher daughter.
Sheseesamangeton—oneLaceyrecognizesasanassassin.Idroponlybreadcrumbsbypulling backontheinformationIgive.Thepast couldn’t have picked aworsetime to findher.Trappedinseat15AonanAmtrakTexasEaglechuggingthroughtheOzarksat 4:00a.m.onaSundaymorning,Lacey...Galloway...Montgomery—whatwas her current last name?—tightened her leg lock around the computer bag at herfeet.
She dug her fingers through the cotton knit of her daughter’s sweater as shewatched the newest passenger to their compartment find his seat. Lanky, witholiveskin and dark eyes framed in wire-rimmedglasses, it hadto be Syrianassassin Ishmael Shavik, who sat down, fidgeted with his leather jacket, thenimpaled her with a darkglance.
Inthisopeningscene,myheroineknowsthemanisafterher, but doesn’t tell us why. Wealsoknow she’sprotectingabriefcase, but we don’t know why. And,weknowthatherpastisbad,butagain, we don’t know why. Alltheseproblemsarehintedat,butnotsolved.Mygoalistolurethereaderinwith justenoughbreadcrumbstomakethemhungry.
Remember:BackstoryBreadcrumbsaresoft,tasty, small morselstolureyourreaderintothestory.
Whatisthe essential informationthereaderneedstoknowtogivesufficientmotivationfor thecharacter?Whatstoryquestionscanyoudropintothescenethatwillkeepthereaderinterested?
Ingredie n t6:Sizzle(Dialogue!)
I’macampinggirl.Ilovetogoouttotheshoreandbuildablazingfireandcozyuptoit.Reading gooddialogueislikethatcampfire.It’smesmerizing,it’shot,it’sattractive,anditprovideslightin thedarkness.Morethanthat,greatdialogueiswhataddstheglowofromancetothestory.
What isDialogue?
Dialogueinaromanceisn’tjustwords.It’salsowhatis not beingsaid,it’sbodylanguage,and internalmonologueand,mostofall,it’s conflict . Especially inaromance.Morethananything,dialogue movesascene,createsemotion,revealsmotivations,andproduceschangeinacharacter.Butgood dialogueisdifficulttowrite.Here’sahint:It’snotconversation!Okay,Iadmitit:Dialogueismy favorite partofabook.Ijustlove tohearpeople getinto arguments,dodgequestions,tellitlikeitis,andmostofall,giveeachotherwhatfor.Sometimes— andthisistheschizophrenicwritersideofme—IwilleventalkoutloudasI’mwritingdialogue,just togettheinflections.(Besides,Icansayanythingtomyselfandnotgetintotrouble!)Butwhatisthesecrettopowerfuldialogue?What’sthedifferencebetweenwritingconversations thatzingandmind-numbingdialoguethatcausesabooktoendfacedownonthebureaucollecting dust?Ithinkit’sallaboutaddingalittleSizzle—theelementthatcontainsattitudeandenergyand courageandeverythingyourcharacterhasinsideofhim.
Good dialogue has four
Grace Livingston Hill
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