Use “fate” as a plot device

‘So,’ George said, settling back in his chair. ‘Having seen all the candidates, what are your thoughts?’ Louise tapped her pen on the table.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I thought Jules was a fairly good fit. Ingrid had the most impressive CV in terms of past experience. But I think we should go with David.’ George nodded.

‘I’d be tempted to agree,’ he said. ‘Despite not really being suitable for the position or having any of the relevant qualifications, I think David’s the right choice, mostly because it’s his destiny.’

‘Yes,’ said Louise, thoughtfully. ‘He doesn’t seem to know a lot about marketing per se, but getting this job would be the first step in his meteoric rise to power and eventual corruption in a personal plot arc that echoes, among other texts, Citizen Kane and the fall of Lucifer.’

‘I’d have to concur,’ said George. ‘He was bumbling and inarticulate in the interview, his CV is written on what looks like a paper hand-towel and he was unapologetically an hour late for his appointment, but I think he’s the guy for the job.’

‘What are you going to write on the form?’

‘I’ll just put “indefinable sense of narrative momentum.”’

Improve the online visibility of your fiction through the careful use of keywords

Fighting for breath, Britney Bin Laden sprinted away from the collapsing building with all the speed of a get rich quick scheme or celebrity nipple slip. A massive explosion tore seductively through the virgin wall behind her, a wall which was eighteen years old and ready for fun.

Yikes, thought Britney, this is certainly exclusive breaking news which might well affect current stock prices. Just then, a truck carrying cheap pharmaceutical goods veered off the road, narrowly missing her. That could have killed me, thought Britney, her life flashing before her eyes like a free bootleg movie download. There are so many things I regret. I wish I had won top prizes at an online Euro-Casino, or talked to more singles in my area.

‘Britney!’ someone shouted. She squinted through the smoke. It was her friend and lover, Jesus Michael Jackson-Obama-Sextape. ‘Are you okay?’ he said, offering her coupon codes for genuine software downloads.

Nolo.com Advertising. Is it Worth It? A Review.

As you know, I'm constantly on the lookout for ways to market my law firm. If you've never started a law firm before, you probably don't think about it that much, but getting people to pick up the phone and call you when they need you is the most important thing there is. Great attorneys aren't great unless they have someone to help, right?

So, I got a call the other day from a representative at nolo.com. They acted as if I should know who they are and that they are all over the place. Honestly, I didn't really know much about them. But, to me, it didn't make much of a difference. I still took the time to listen to what they had to say to see if they could help me at all. I think most people hang up. I listen. Most of the time I say no. Sometimes I say yes (and then I let you know about it!).

What they offer is a kind of personal profile on their site. And, though I signed up a couple of weeks ago, I remember that an attractive aspect of the site was that there were a limited number of attorneys in the space, and that you had the ability to build out your own profile, which was quite extensive. In addition to that within your profile you get to create 25 links and point them wherever you want. As you know, I love links, so this is what put it over the edge.

The pricing is honestly a little steep. Essentially you are paying for an online yellow pages ad, which gets crawled who knows how much (I'll periodically update this so you know), for about $160/month. If you pay up front and enter into a longer contract, it's cheaper. But I only went for a year. If it works out, I'll keep it up.

Remember, if you have decided to start a law firm, the number one question you are going to have to answer, and answer fast, is how you are going to get clients into the door. If you don't have an answer, then you are going to have a tough go of it.

I talk to people a lot about starting a law firm. I encourage it. I tell them what I've done right and wrong, and I try to help them through the process. But time and time again I ask them what they are doing and it's reading the law. Read the law when you have a client to work for. You have been taught how to learn the law. Now is the time to get clients. Put your energy toward that, and when you get someone that needs help, learn everything you need to help them.

I can guarantee you nolo.com will be contacting me to talk about this review. They always do. I'll let you know if I left anything out of the post.

Hate your characters

(With thanks to James Franco)

Frank Malaise sat slumped in the barber’s chair, reeking of sweat and onions. His folds of pale fat covered him like a quilt made of bacon rind, swaddling his weak frame just as, far beneath his rib cage, they swaddled his anaemic heart. One day that heart would give out and his funeral would be attended by every person whose life he had touched and whose love he had earned in his time on this planet – which is to say, no one.

‘Hey,’ he called across the barbershop. ‘I haven’t got all day here.’ This was true. His plans for the afternoon included poor-quality microwave meals and wallowing in his own ignorance. In response to this petulant demand for service, Sid the barber stalked across the room and stood behind Frank. He paused for a second, his scissor blades hovering near Frank’s neck.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, directionless hatred bubbling in the pit of his soul. Sid was a deeply unpleasant man, subject to misanthropic murderous rages that he liked to think of as his “purging” instincts. His wife, herself a morbidly obese and profoundly stupid human being, took perverse pleasure in adopting a chirpy, sing-song voice as she warned Sid that one of these days he would “flip his lid.” The truth was that one day he would, that blood would be spilled and that the world would be better for it. God, I hate people.

Being on the Radio--WNPR Helps Me Fall in Love with My Story Again

This week I had my small moment in the sun. A thrill for any writer, I was invited for an interview on WNPR about my new novel, Qualities of Light. I'd sent a copy of the book to WNPR in October, when the book was released, hoping but not expecting. The email came in February--We're interested in interviewing you. Yes! I said.

The host is a real expert at getting the story behind the story, no matter who she's talking with. Faith Middleton's show is in its twenty-ninth year, and it has won two Peabody Awards (broadcasting's equivalent of the Pulitzer).

I've spoken on over 100 radio and TV programs in past years, for my other books, and it should've been a breeze. But the novel felt much more personal, more risky to talk about. I prepared lots of notes, and even with all my experience, I was nervous as I drove to the studio in the rain that morning. I'd heard wonderful things about Faith's warm and engaging style, but it didn't matter. What if she asked me something weird? Or, worse, criticized my book in front of all those invisible listeners?

She asked me to sit across from her, in a cozy armchair. I asked for a table for my notes, and she said I wouldn't need any. Oh, boy, more jitters. But her smile and obvious enjoyment of the process of our interview softened everything. So did her first question:

Tell us about the image or moment when you began this book. Where were you, what were you doing?



I'm a writer who lives in images. I usually start a book with a moment, or an image, and when Faith asked that question, I was immediately back on the lakeside dock, that summer nine years ago in the Adirondacks, watching the waterskiier's white wake across the wide expanse of water. I remember how that image struck me at the time, how it propelled the thought She walks on water.

I began to dream the dream that begins each book. To look at this dream again, during the interview, brought back all the joy I felt on that lakeside dock. Since I'm a painter, the visual was the doorway for me, into the dream. Other writers experience this dream doorway as sounds or smells, a feeling, a thought, a different kind of moment.

The other question Faith asked that really surprised me, delighted me, and made me think anew about the writing process was this: What did I expect readers to get from my story, and how that was different from what they said they got.

What an insightful question. Yes, there was a difference!

My intent, simply put, is for people to accept the idea that love is love. When love comes, no matter how it comes, it is important and real. You can't predict it, or control it, and it's a gift most times. I wanted us, as a culture, to get over the idea of predictable packages and recognize love in all its miraculous forms.

But readers take books in different directions than authors intend. My readers have been mostly transfixed with the family story--the equally miraculous change that happens in families after trauma, when certain "qualities of light" within a person transform and heal other family members. One elderly friend bought eleven copies of my novel to give to her friends, saying that the story was healing because of what happened in the family. It would give families hope.

This Week's Writing Exercise

This week's exercise has two parts. It lets you explore your starting and your ending for your beautiful project.

First, spend some time revisiting the initial image of your writing project. What did you start with? Was it visual, a sound or smell, a feeling, a thought or idea? Spend 10-20 minutes writing about it. See what comes to renew your love for your book or project.

Secondly, freewrite for 20 minutes about your intent for the book. What do you want readers to get from it? What might they get, despite you?

If you want to listen to my interview on WNPR, the online link is below. Let me know what you think:

http://www.cpbn.org/program/faith-middleton-show/episode/fms-qualities-light

Refuse to leave the present tense

I sit at my desk and remember how, years ago, I wonder what my life will be like when I am fifty, which I am now. I’m imagining that I’m living in a big house, I remember as I sit in my one-bedroom apartment. Now I pour myself a drink and cast my mind back to a time when I’m full of hope and passion which is never to be extinguished, as it is now.

‘What am I doing?’ I mutter to myself, taking a sip of my drink. In my memory, I’m seven years old, sitting in the highest branches of a tree which is being planted a hundred years before I am born. Now, though, the tree is long dead. I’m chopping it down at the age of twenty and thinking about when it is supporting my weight at the age of seven. I look at my watch.

‘Late,’ I mutter to myself. It is eight; the retrospective is just starting, half an hour ago.

Give your characters distinctive idioms

‘Dae ye nae ken?’ spluttered Hamish, spilling whisky on his sporran. ‘I cannae be tha’ mush clerrer.' Bronco frowned at him.

‘Well, gee whizz,’ he said. ‘I’m havin’ the darndest time tryin’ a foller yer. Could’ya speak a liddle slower, pardner?’

‘Ah, tae hell with ye,’ muttered Hamish.

‘I believe what our Caledonian friend is attempting to convey,’ lisped Archibald over the rim of his teacup, ‘is that he is somewhat dissatisfied with the manner in which he is being addressed by your good self. Is that right, old chap?’

‘Aye,’ the red-haired drunkard grumbled. ‘An i’s no jus’ Yankie-boy, neither. Ye’s all a shoor o’ racists.’ Before he could elaborate, however, the conversation was interrupted by the late arrival of Ahmed.