Tuesday, August 21, 2012

More on Plot and Character


You have a better chance of selling to an editor if you fit your book into a particular subgenre.  Regency historical. Vampire. Small-town contemporary. Romantic suspense. Harlequin Presents.

Once you know your target market, your plot and characters must both work together in your story.

To be very basic, if you’re writing in any kind of romance, it’s unlikely you will have a hero who is a serial killer.  But in the suspense genre, Dexter has proved that you can do it in a suspense novel.

Sometimes if you do have a character with questionable traits or problems, you may be able to get away with using him if you don’t introduce his real problems immediately.  In one of my Harlequin Intrigues, What Child is This, I had a hero who had been adopted.  I wanted him to have a compelling reason to be searching for his birth mother and decided that if he had leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant, that would be a very strong reason for his search.  My editor hated the idea of giving my hero a serious disease.  I told her he was in remission and argued to keep the crucial plot element in the book.

Finally she relented, if I agreed to make sure the reader knew and liked the hero before she found out he had a fatal disease.  Oddly enough, it was okay for the heroine to think the hero was a drug addict before she found out what was really wrong with him.

I learned a lot about plot and character through my love of reading.  In my teens, one of my favorite authors was Sinclair Lewis.  He was brilliant at character sketches.  In just a sentence or two, he could get inside the personality of a small-town mayor or the head of a major corporation.  But he was much less adept with plot.  His stories moved slowly, often with little action, and eventually I stopped reading him.

Contrast that with the action-packed movies being produced today.  They serve up car chases, explosions and world-crushing meteors, bombarding the screen one after the other.  But mostly they don’t interest me unless they focus on compelling characters as well, and the action makes logical sense.

If you want to study some writers who do both plot and character with equal brilliance, try Stephen King or Dean Koontz, particularly his earlier works like Whispers, Lightning, and Watchers.  I know English teachers and devotees of literary fiction tend to sneer at them for being “popular.”  But there’s a reason for their popularity.  They deliver a great reading experience over and over.

Often a plot idea first sparks my interest in a story.  But I develop the characters as I work out the plot.

What if a man is murdered and his body disappears? Then we find out that his whole life has been a lie?  That’s the premise of my Harlequin Intrigue, From the Shadows. He’s not the hero of the story.  The hero is the detective trying to find out who murdered him.

Or what if you have a situation like the one Elizabeth Ashtree  conjured up in The Colonel and the Kid, where the hero’s son needs a heart operation to save his life.  But their home is in Russia where the proper medical attention is unavailable, and the only way the father can save his child’s life is to sneak him into the U.S.  What are his the gut-wrenching emotions?
And what if the heroine is a U.S. military officer, who will be breaking the law if she finds out his plan and doesn’t report it?

In my own work, I try to create the perfect hero and heroine for each story.  I ask myself, why are these people in this plot?  Or–who are these people, and why will they drive each other crazy?

In my Intrigue, Solid as Steele, the heroine is a psychic who sees the death of a murder victim in a dream.  Frightened, she calls her friends at the Light Street Detective Agency.  But the hard-bitten detective hero doesn’t believe in psychics and doesn’t think she can know anything about the murder unless she’s involved.  Still, they’re forced to work together to solve the crime, and as she uses her special talents to give him more and more information, he’s forced to change his mind about psychic abilities.  Complicating their relationship is their guilt that they were attracted to each other before her husband was killed.

Even as I work out my plot and plan the characters, the people don’t come fully alive for me until I start writing the book.  It takes me about three chapters to get into their heads deeply enough to know how they will react in each situation they face.  And as I write, I may go back and fill in more about their character so the reader can understand them better.  Still, I try never to overload any one part of the story with too much background. “Character development” should never be the only reason for a scene.  Each scene between your characters has to move the plot forward toward an ending that will satisfy the reader.

What writers do you admire? Or which authors made you want to become an author?


Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Integrating Plot and Character


Never separate plot and character.  As you decide on the book you want to write, you must consider them at the same time because you will want certain characters for the plot you are creating.  Or a certain plot for the characters you have in mind.

Whichever you think of first, you must develop them together because there’s a synergy between these two elements of your story. You might think of a great story about a man who’s living alone in a mountain cabin and is visited by space aliens, but what’s he doing in that cabin?  Why is he alone?  How is he going to deal with little green men knocking on his door?  And the larger question–is the reader going to believe his reactions?

Let’s consider the beginning of your thinking process and the steps you go through when you start a book.

Even if you’re a completely right-brained writer, and you work very intuitively, the steps are in there somewhere.  You just might not consciously think about what they are.

Because I’m a very left-brained, or logical, writer, I can describe my primary considerations before I wrote my first werewolf book, KILLING MOON.

For years I had an idea in mind.  What if a werewolf detective used his wolf senses to solve crimes?  The main character Ross Marshall, came to me first. A macho werewolf filled with angst about his relationship to humanity.

His specialties are tracking missing persons and sneaking into environments where a man couldn’t easily go.  But by the same token, he’s got the disadvantage of sometimes being a wolf at the wrong place and the right time.

Once I knew enough about Ross, I began plotting his story. In KILLING MOON, Ross is tracking a serial killer.  He also wants to investigate his genetic heritage, which brings him into contact with the heroine, a physician who works at a genetics lab.  She’s got her own problems because the lab is being sabotaged by someone.  Ross and Megan are drawn to each other, but she knows there’s something strange about him, and he’s fighting his attraction tooth and claw because he doesn’t want to drag a woman into the kind of miserable life his mom led with his low-life werewolf dad.

Five years ago, Ross tore out the throat of a serial killer the police wouldn’t go after, and he’s sworn never to kill again.  Then the killer he’s currently stalking captures Megan, and he’s forced to break his vow to save her life.

In my planning process, I gave my hero internal and external problems to solve. And I also designed a heroine with traits that pulled him toward her and at the same time pushed him away.

Once you have a basic idea, you need to decide on your focus.  What kind of book are you writing? For example, I considered making KILLING MOON the first book in a detective series. Then I realized I’d be better off going with romantic suspense, since I wanted the romance to play a big part in the story. This meant I couldn’t keep the focus on Ross Marshall in subsequent books. But he could play a strong secondary role in other books about his brothers and cousins. And his cousin, Cole Marshall, is the hero of my recent indie release, DARK MOON.

Which do you usually think of first–plot or character? And why?

This is an enormous subject. More next time.

Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick


Wednesday, August 8, 2012

How Do You Get There from Here?

Writing a novel takes a lot of skills.  You have to create characters the reader cares about and a fantastic plot full of conflict.  Then you must get a lot of other elements right such as pacing, setting, and dialogue.  You probably have to research some aspects of your story.  And you’ve got to make sure your grammar and punctuation don’t yank the reader out of the world you’re creating.

But there isn’t one right way to do it.  As I’ve studied the craft of writing and talked to other writers about their methods, I’ve been struck by how different the process can be for each of us.  And I’ve come to the conclusion that the differences often have to do with left brain/right brain issues.

The left side of your brain is the logical side.  (A good way to remember this is that they both begin with the letter “L.”)  The right side is the more intuitive side.

All of us do use both sides of our brains.  But how we approach the writing process has to do with which side is dominant.  For me, it’s the logical, left brain side, which means that I want to outline my books before I write them.  I want a clear roadmap of where I’m going.

Writers who plunge in and start writing are more right brained.  But even when they haven’t worked out the whole plot before they begin, at some point they must figure out the incidents of the story in order to complete the project.

Each of your own books should start with something that fascinates you.  Perhaps it’s a character whose story you are burning to tell.  Or maybe it’s a brilliant plot twist.  Or perhaps it’s an issue ripped from the headlines–like  a man plotting mass murder in a movie theater or the governor of a state willing to do anything for money.

For me, a book usually begins with what I think of as a “cool idea.”  It can be a character, a plot point or a combination of the two.

Take one of my Decorah Security books, Dark Moon.  What if a rich man’s daughter is kidnapped and taken to a slave ship?  And what if the only person who can find her is a werewolf?

For my Harlequin Intrigue, More than a Man, I was thinking about a man who had lived for more than 500 years.  What would his life be like?  What problems would he encounter that would be totally unique?  Would he be afraid to love because he knew that he’d always lose his partner?

In Her Baby’s Father, another Harlequin Intrigue coming out this month, I started with the idea of a woman whose lover was murdered, leaving her pregnant.  As the book begins, she’s in labor and driving herself to the hospital in a snowstorm.  When her car crashes, she knows she’s going to die.  But angels send her back in time to the day she met the man she loved, and she’s given a second chance to keep him from being murdered.  Can she convince him he’s in danger without making him think she’s crazy because of her odd behavior?

It’s important to remember that the story you are writing is not reality.  It’s a world you create.  But you must make it look, sound, feel, taste and smell real to the reader.  You do that by paying attention to every detail from characters and plot to setting and dialogue.  Yet some details are more important than others.  I’m sure you’ve had the experience of picking up a book and starting to read–then giving up after a few pages or a few chapters.  Why?  Probably because you didn’t like the plot or you couldn’t connect with the characters.

Choosing a subject for your book should be the most right brain part of your whole process.  You must love the idea of your story.  It must turn you on.  It must be an idea that you are dying to write.  If it isn’t, you’re not going to do a good job.  In other words, there’s no use picking an idea because it’s “In.”  You see cowboy books are in, so you decide to write one.  Only you don’t know a darn thing about ranches, and you hate horses.  Trying to write a ranch book would be like jumping into a pit of alligators.  Instead, think about the topics that work for you.

Ironically, the idea doesn’t have to be your own.  A few years ago I was working on a proposal for a multi-book contract, and the editor had rejected my third synopsis.  We had to come up with an alternative, and I asked her if she had any ideas.

She said, “I’ve been thinking.  She’s a virgin, and she’s pregnant.”

I said, “I love it.  How did it happen?”

She said, “Artificial insemination.”

That was the beginning of Amanda’s Child, one of my own favorite Harlequin Intrigues.  From that idea, I built a whole story.

When you think of a story you want to write, do you come up with the plot first or the characters or a cool idea?  And do you plunge in or work on an outline before you start to write?

One person who comments can win a CD copy of my Carina Press novella, Dark Magic.  But please, if you want to be eligible for a book, include an e-mail address or your Twitter handle so I can contact you easily.  If you’d prefer not to make your e-mail address public, send it to rebecca@rebeccayork.com with Subject: “How Do You Get There from Here?” Blog.

                                                         Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick



   Book Signing at the 2012 RWA Conference

Monday, July 30, 2012

Know Your Market


Last week at RWA I had the pleasure of talking to lots of people about the kind of romance they write. One was indie author Debra Holland whose Montana Sky series has sold more than 100,000 copies, with her Wild Montana Sky hitting the USA Today list, a fantastic achievement for a self-published author.  I asked her how she sold so many copies of her indie books, and she told me she identified a market that wasn’t being served—sweet westerns—and wrote for that market.

Debra’s a good example of thinking very specifically about what kind of book you want to write. And it always surprises me when an author doesn’t pause to take this step before plunging into the writing process. In my own field of romantic suspense, I’ve heard people wondering about whether the book they are writing is category or single title.  That question makes me shake my head.  If you’ve studied the field, you’ll know where your book fits in.

I write both single-title romantic suspense and also category, specifically for Harlequin Intrigue.  Let’s compare and contrast them.

With my Intrigues, the book will be about 67,000 words long.  There will be no gore and minimal violence on camera.  Most of the scenes will be from the point of view of the hero or heroine—although I might use an important secondary character—perhaps the villain.  Or a kidnapped child.

If possible, the threat will be personal to both the hero and heroine.  There must be a mystery element, but the focus will be on the developing relationship between the hero and heroine as they avoid the danger closing in on them.

Both the hero and heroine must be likable or have very good reasons why their actions are questionable. The hero and heroine will meet as close to the beginning of the book as possible, ideally in the first chapter.

The first scene will probably be with either the hero or heroine or both. They should be together as much as possible throughout the book. At the same time, their relationship will be in doubt until the end, and they will only work out their differences after the story’s action climax.
There will be little or no cursing in the dialogue, and any that’s spoken will be “mild.”  One technique I use is to say, “He cursed under his breath,” without telling you exactly what he said.  Love scenes also have limits on the words the author can use. They can range from minimal to sensual, but there will be no anatomy lessons.

The single-title romantic suspense novel is longer—probably 80 to 100,000 words, and the writer has a lot more freedom in her plot and character development.  The relationship between the hero and heroine will still be an important part of the story, but the book will be more complex with more points of view and a more complicated structure.

You can wait longer to have the hero and heroine get together in a single- title romantic suspense.  And the story might start from the point of view of a secondary character, as I did in Dark Moon, which begins with a woman being kidnapped. The hero and heroine work for a security agency hired to rescue her from a slave ship where she’s being held.

In single-title romantic suspense, there will almost always be scenes from the point of view of the villain. He must be a well-rounded character, not just “evil,” and his motivation must make sense. In my own single titles, I will try to give the reader something to admire about him. Other secondary characters may also have viewpoints.

Single-title romantic suspense tends to have more realism than category, with more research on, for example, details of police procedures or maybe hostage negotiations.  I’m writing a romantic suspense for Sourcebooks now where the heroine gets kidnapped near the end of the book, and the hero decides the only way he can get into the bad guy’s militia camp is in a glider plane. I actually rode in a glider plane similar to the one in the story. Then I did more research on the Web for details of how to pilot the plane.

In single title, the characters have the freedom to curse if they are angry or under pressure. In the love scenes, you can use words like “penis” and “clit” that would never get past the editor in category romantic suspense.

There are significant differences between a single-title and a category romantic suspense novel, yet they will both still blend romance, mystery and suspense to create a story where a man and a woman are falling in love against a background of high-stakes danger, and the relationship is not resolved until the end of the book.

I’ve focused on romantic suspense here because I know it best. But before you start any type of novel, think about exactly what kind of book you are writing.  Long or short?  Sweet or sexy?  If you’re aiming for a particular publisher or line, read their books to see what the editors are looking for.  Or consider indie publishing, where you can do it the way you want—as long as you write a book that readers will love.

What kinds of books do you want to write?  Or which do you love to read? One commenter will receive an autographed copy of one of my Harlequin Intrigues. But please, if you want to be eligible for a book, include an e-mail address or your Twitter handle so I can contact you easily. If you’d prefer not to make your e-mail address public, send it to rebecca@rebeccayork.com with Subject: “Know Your Market” Blog.

Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick

Sunday, July 22, 2012

It’s Not Shake and Bake

Writing romance or any genre fiction isn’t like putting chicken parts into a paper bag and shaking to coat them with a seasoning packet you grabbed off the grocery shelf. You’ve got to carefully consider the type of mixture you’re using–including which spices and flavor ingredients will work best for you.

Although a lot of people who view the genre from the outside think “romances are all the same,” we know better. There are many different sub-genres, each with a devoted following. The one you choose to write in should reflect your own reading tastes.

Do you gravitate toward short contemporary romances, where the man-woman story is central? Do you like longer reads with a lot of subplots and secondary characters woven into the hero and heroine’s story?

 Do you want a sexy romance? A frankly erotic romance? Or a sweet romance with only a kiss at the end of the book? There are books for every taste.

Writing a romance is usually a balance of following your heart and figuring out how your novel will fit into the market. In today’s publishing world, there’s also the option of writing to please yourself and going indie.

 But there’s one unbreakable rule. In a romance, whatever other elements are included, the relationship is always the main focus of the story and is integrated into the incidents of the plot. Suppose the story starts with an emotionally devastated heroine who finds she’s pregnant by her boyfriend who was recently killed in Afghanistan? She may have financial problems. She may be at odds with her parents or her boss, but the plot must quickly introduce a new man into her life or focus on a man she already knows in a non-romantic context. They are drawn to each other, but it must seem impossible for them to work out their relationship; and the internal conflicts between them will be the focus of the story.

Whatever your target, read tons of books in the subgenre you like best. If you want to write for Harlequin Desire, READ scores of them, and think about what makes them work. What kinds of heroes are featured in Desires? What kinds of heroines? What are typical plots? Typical conflicts? Analyze the books, then come up with your unique take on the line.

To illustrate that romances are not “all the same,” here’s a very detailed analysis of how straight romance and romantic suspense differ.

      THE PLOT:
      ROMANCE
The plot focuses on two people meeting, falling in love, working out their internal and external conflicts, and making a commitment to each other by the end of the book.

     ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
The plot focuses on two people meeting, falling in love, and working out their conflicts against a backdrop of danger and suspense. External forces threaten to destroy these people; but by the end of the book, they triumph over the danger and make a commitment to each other.

     THE TENSION OF THE STORY:
     ROMANCE
Sexual tension and internal conflicts drive the romance. These two people are falling in love and desperate to explore the physical aspects of their relationship, yet fundamental differences keep them from making a commitment to each other. Even after they finally make love, the conflicts between them must keep their future together in doubt until the end of the story.

     ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
In addition to the sexual tension and internal conflicts, “danger tension” drives the story. These people are pursued relentlessly by sinister forces determined to destroy them. The tension of fighting to stay alive increases the level of their sexual awareness.

     THE EMOTIONS OF THE STORY: 
     ROMANCE
The writer must make the reader feel the emotions of the h/h as they fall in love by using her skill at evocative language and describing the physical manifestations of love and sexual desire. (His touch set her on fire. Joy awakened inside her like a flower bud unfurling.)

     ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
The writer must make the reader feel the fear and terror of the h/h with evocative language and description that shows us their physical reactions to fear and danger. (In the darkness, she felt as if a thousand insect feet were crawling over her. Icy terror gripped her.)

     THE ENDING: 
     ROMANCE      
The writer must bring the conflict between the h/h to a warm and satisfying resolution so that the reader knows these two people will walk off happily into the sunset together.

     ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Before the h/h can walk off into the sunset, they must confront and defeat the malevolent forces bent on wiping them from the face of the earth. Clearly, romances are not “all the same.” More on the subtle and not so subtle differences next time.

 What kind of romance do you like best and what do you write? One commenter will receive an autographed copy of GUARDING GRACE. But please, if you want to be eligible for a book, include an e-mail address or your Twitter handle so I can contact you easily. If you’d prefer not to make your e-mail address public, send it to rebecca@rebeccayork.com with Subject: “It’s Not Shake and Bake” Blog.

Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

More on That Crucial First Chapter


“My first chapter’s not that great, but wait until you get to chapter three.”

I’m not making that up. It’s from a real query letter my former agent received.

The clueless author looking for representation wasn’t going to grab an agent with that letter, and she wasn’t going to hook any readers with her story.  Your first chapter is one of the most crucial in your book.  Along with the ending, which better leave the reader longing for more of your work.

I’ve been discussing first chapters for several posts now.  Let me wrap up with a few more points.

Don’t promise the reader something you’re not going to deliver.  You can’t write a fantastic first scene that will have nothing to do with the rest of the story. (Like in those old James Bond movies where the opening was an action set piece with no connection to the rest of the movie.) The beginning must tie into what follows and start the character development and plot that continue throughout the story.

As I write my first few chapters, I’m getting to know my characters. I may think I understand their motivation, their traits and their conflicts, but I never truly get into their heads until I’ve written forty or fifty pages from their point of view. I may have ideas about what they’re like, but I can’t fully know them until they start reacting to the situations my plot creates.

And here’s a piece of good news about your first chapter and every chapter.  What you write isn’t set in stone just because the words are on the screen or even printed out.  You can always write in haste and edit later.  My goal is often to “get it down” so I have something to work with.  I can make improvements and new ideas when I’ve got a little distance from my first draft.  I usually go back and rewrite my first chapter after I’ve written more of the book. Usually my second thoughts on both my character and plot are a significant part of the finished product.

We’re always told that tension and conflict keep the reader turning the pages, but don’t start with too high a level of tension. The example I like to use is from a suspense novel I picked up years ago. In the first chapter, a diplomat is kidnapped and tortured by terrorists. They castrated him, and as he bled to death, I decided that I didn’t want to read a book that began with quite that much threat. I was pretty sure the hero was going to fall into these guys’ hands, and I didn’t want to be around to worry about his emerging with his manhood intact.

Back to what you should accomplish with your own writing. While it’s important to polish your first few sentences to a burnished glow, its final impact should have equal weight.

Try to end the first chapter (and every following chapter) with a cliff-hanger, a tantalizing last line or couple of lines that will make the reader burn to discover what happens next.

In the Intrigue I’m writing now, Carrie’s Protector, the hero and heroine are hiding out from terrorists who plan to kill them. The first chapter ends with:

Down the hall, Wyatt could hear doors opening and slamming shut again.  When the door to the office where they were hiding opened, every muscle in his body tensed. He saw a shadow flicker on the wall--the shadow of a man holding a gun. The guy stood still for a moment, then started across the tile floor toward their hiding place.  

And here’s the ending of Sarah Zettel’s first chapter in Sword of the Deceiver:

And it was done.  Natharie lifted her head and met her parents' eyes. Father looked sad, but Mother's eyes were wild.  She looked as if she would jump to her feet and shout denial just as the priest had, but she did not move.  She could not move. Natharie had cast the dice, and only the Awakened One now could see how they would land. 

I think both of those make you want to find out what happens next.

Thanks for stopping by. What are your thoughts on first chapters? Do you have any good examples of ending with a cliff-hanger?  What didn’t I cover in the discussion of first chapters that you’d like to hear about?

One commenter will win an autographed copy of one of my recent Harlequin Intrigues.

Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick

Sunday, July 8, 2012

More on How to Hook the Reader from the Start

It would be possible to write a whole book on how to start a book. (See previous post for more.)

Most romances begin with a scene from the point of view of either the hero or heroine. If the first scene starts with one of them, you need to give the reader reasons to like this character. It should be someone she wants to identify with and root for. If the main character is not likable, he or she had better be someone so intriguing that the reader has to keep turning the pages to find out more. If the heroine is doing something mean and petty at the beginning of the story, probably the reader’s going to be turned off. Or if the hero is acting like a jerk, there had better be a good reason why.

Of course, there is a type of romance where one of the main characters is unlikable but will change significantly throughout the course of the story. I think this kind of character development is difficult to pull off unless you are very skilled and experienced.

A wonderful example is The Hellion, by LaVyrle Spencer. At the beginning of the story, the hero, Tommy Lee, is a mess. He’s drinking beer, tossing away the cans, and raising hell. Yet he’s going to be redeemed by the love of a good woman, if he allows himself the to reach out for that love. Another great example is Lord Dane in Lord of Scoundrels.

If you’re going this route, at the very least, you need to give hints that this character will change and/or give compelling reasons for the way he/she is acting.

In a romance, you want the hero and heroine to meet as soon as possible. It's not a must that they interact in the first chapter, but in a romance you can't delay the meeting too long because the reader wants to follow the development of their relationship and see them on the page together as much as possible. In a short romance the focus will be almost entirely on them and the development of their relationship. In a longer romance you have room to develop secondary characters and plot lines.

Another way to “get them together” at the beginning of the story is to alternate scenes from each point of view. These two people are not together, but you know they will be.

I use this method in Dragon Moon. The heroine’s story begins while she is still living in an alternate universe and being prepared to come here. I have scenes from her point of view, then switch to the hero in our world. I bring them together when she comes through a portal between the worlds just as a thunderstorm strikes, and she’s pinned down by a falling tree. The hero and heroine meet as he finds and rescues her.

In a romance, the h/h are drawn to each other. But you must set up conflicts at the beginning that will keep them from working out their differences until the end of the story.

In Tempted by his Target, by Jill Sorenson, the heroine’s on the run in Mexico from mobsters who want to murder her because the mob boss thinks she murdered his son. The hero’s a federal agent with the job of bringing her back to face murder charges. He finds her and pretends to be her friend and protector while trying to turn her over to the authorities. Naturally he falls in love with her. But what’s going to happen when she finds out he’s been playing her?

In my Decorah Security novella, Chained, Isabella hides out at her father’s old ranch. And the hero’s there. Or is he?  She thinks he died five years ago. Is his ghost haunting the ranch?  Or is something else going on?  Isabella and Matt were in love with each other, but neither of them could act on the attraction. Now she’s alone with his ghost, and all the sexual longing comes bubbling to the surface. But how can she have a relationship with him?  And is there a way to “bring him back to life”?

At the beginning of your story you must give the reader some idea what these people look like. In fact, many romance writers spend a lot of time on physical description. I think it’s more important to have an interior picture of the main characters. What motivates them?  What are their values?  How do they react under stress?  Don’t tell us. Illustrate these traits through their actions and reactions.

If your first chapter has the h/h interacting with secondary characters, don’t let the secondaries take over. The primary focus should be on the main characters. Also, in a romance, you probably want the first person the heroine interacts with to be the hero.

My own beginnings tend to be action scenes where something dangerous is happening usually to the hero or heroine. If I don’t think I can have a dynamic opening using the hero and or heroine, I might turn to a secondary character.

In my Decorah Security novel, Dark Moon, I start with a scene where a woman is being kidnapped. You don’t know much about her. But you know she’s in trouble. She’s not the heroine. She’s the victim that the hero and heroine are sent to rescue. But I started with her so the reader would understand the urgency and danger of the situation.

You could also give the villain the first scene. One of the most impressive examples of this is in The Key to Rebecca, by Ken Follett. It has that famous first line, “The last camel died at noon.”  In the scene, a Nazi spy is sneaking into World War II Cairo across the desert, and he almost loses his life in the attempt. Almost, but not quite. He survives to give the hero and heroine big problems.

And, by the way, The Key to Rebecca is very much romantic suspense. When I was just getting into the field, I came across that book and read it. I loved it, and my reaction was, “that’s what I want to write.”

Let’s end with a warning. Don’t promise the reader something you’re not going to deliver. You can’t write a fantastic first scene that will have nothing to do with the rest of the book. (Like in those old James Bond movies where the opening was a set piece with no connection to the rest of the movie.)  The initial action must tie into the narrative and start the character development that continues throughout the story along with your plot.

There’s so much to say on beginnings that I’ll continue the subject next time. And I’ll give a book, Solid as Steele, to one commenter. Some of you gave us examples of great beginning last time. We’d love to hear some more. Or tell us about a book where the hero or heroine starts off as unlikable but changes significantly as the story progresses.

Copyright © 2012 Ruth Glick