Tara Maya
Author Archives: Tara Maya
Tara Maya
- by Tara Maya
Blog Notes
Urm, I have some stuff I need to do for my blog. My blog won an award — squee! — but I haven’t nailed it to the wall yet. I want to catch up on a bunch of blogs I’m following, and I still want to post my thoughts on Endings, which is about half written. (My post on Endings has no ending. O, Irony, you kill me.)
Kids are off on Spring Break, I have a few art projects I’m going to bid on and Revenge of the Vomitous Stomach Flu has struck members of my clan again. However, I will brush up my blog eventually, and I apologize for the delay.
- by Tara Maya
The Secret to Overnight Success
This interview with Arthur Golden, the author of Memoirs of a Geisha is ten years old, but new to me. A friend in a writing group passed the link to me, and I pass it on to you, with these thoughts:
1. This” overnight night success” took fifteen years to research, write, rewrite and sell.
2. Golden wrote a complete draft before he was able to interview a real geisha. “But I wrote a draft based on a lot of book-learning. And I thought I had a pretty good idea of what the world of a geisha was like, and wrote a draft. Then a chance came along to meet a geisha, which, of course, I couldn’t turn down. And she was so helpful to me that I realized I’d gotten everything wrong, and I ended up throwing out that entire first draft and doing the whole thing over again.”
3. He then rewrote the entire book again, this time changing from third person to first person.
And I also found this insight to the point:
O’BRIEN: What’s it like, sitting there at the computer keyboard, trying — as a white male, trying to put yourself into that skin?
GOLDEN: You know, I think that it’s pretty much like writing anything else in fiction, in the sense that even if you sit down and try to imagine a story about somebody who lives on a street you’ve never seen, you really can’t escape the hard work of just bridging this divide between you and an imagined other. And the difference for me was that I had to do a lot of research to put myself in a position where I could begin to know enough about that imagined other to make that leap. But the leap, I think, is the same, really, whatever kind of fiction you’re writing.
- by Tara Maya
Saving Money as a Writer
SunTiger tagged me with coming up with 3 ways to save money.
Um. I’m really the last person to ask about how to save money. Now, if y’all wanted tips on how to waste money, I’m your gal. Plus, this is supposed to be a blog about writing.
Anyway, here goes.
1. Write in the dark.
Your computer screen should give you enough light anyway, right? Turn off the lights and conserve power! Oh, wait, some of you write longhand. Well, you probably don’t have electricity anyway, so you’re fine.
2. Query only by email.
Why waste trees and spend all that money on stamps? Do you really even want an agent who doesn’t know how to use email?
3. Drink less beer.
Buy a keg instead.
Yeah, I know. There’s a reason I lost the election for Highschool Treasurer.
- by Tara Maya
Hooks
My next post was going to be on Endings. However, the thoughtful comments to my post on Beginnings made me want to linger a bit longer on the subject of Hooks.
We are told all the time, “You must hook your reader!” But what about the quiet set-up, the story which opens like a wide-shot of the landscape which shapes the story, or a close-up on a character? Must every story start with action and danger?
In short, must every book begin with a sentence as dark and striking the first sentence in Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book:
“There was a hand in the darkness and it held a knife.”
In a word — no.
Not every book has to begin with darkness, knives, or the slaughter of the protagonist’s family.
Every story needs a hook. But not every hook involves action or physical threats. A hook which is understated, subdued, focused on character, is perfectly acceptable in a book which is focused on character. Take the first two lines of The Kite Runner:
I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the ally near the frozen creek.
The first line tells you that this will be a book primarily about a man’s soul. By the end of the first paragraph, and more strongly by the end of the first chapter, we learn it will be a story about redeeming a man’s soul.
The second line further tells you that the book will explore a world of crumbling mud walls, far from the experience of most American readers.
The hook is strong because it makes the reader ask what single event made this man who he is? What was so terrible about it that he must find a way “to be good again” as it says at the end of Chapter One? And if it was so terrible a thing, how can he change or make up for it now? The hints and details in Chapter One — mud walled alleys, kites, Kabul — deepen the mystery by promising that to understand this man, you must also come to understand the world which shaped him.
The bait on your novel’s hook depends on the kind of reader you hope to reel in. If you are the kind of reader who likes books with which run silent but deep, this is probably also the kind of book you’re writing, and you will bait your hook accordingly.
Of course, it’s not a rule that you can’t begin a book about character with a description of the setting, or begin a book in which the world-building is the primary reward (much sf and fantasy) with a character, or a character book with a bomb. I suspect, though, it’s easier to Begin As You Mean To Go On, and focus the camera as soon as possible on the theme of your novel. As for your hook, I suspect it wouldn’t work at all unless it was aligned with the rest of the book.
- by Tara Maya
Beginning – Relay Race or Marathon?
We all know, I presume, the importance of a good hook. Many of my friends who read this blog are familiar with Miss Snark’s First Victim’s Secret Agent contests, in which one has only 250 words to dangle that hook in front of an agent. She is presently running a first sentence contest, in which your hook must be in the very first sentence of your novel.
All well and good, but as I contemplate the best place to begin my Secret Novel, I would like to go beyond the obvious need for a hook and ask, “Yes, but what kind of hook?”
It isn’t enough to hook the readers in Chapter One and then throw them back into the lake of lukewarm plot tension for the rest of the book. The hook has to lead into the rest of the book.
It seems to me there are two ways the hook can do this: the Relay Race method or the Marathon Race Method.
* * *
In the Relay Race Method, the hook in the first chapter is not itself the main problem of the book. It is merely the first of a cascade of problems, each one leading to the next, so that tension in the story is passed along like a baton between different racers in a relay race.
For instance, imagine a Regency Romance in which the heroine finds a dead body on her lawn — and the hero standing beside it with a smoking gun. She thinks the hero is a murderer, and this is the first hook. By chapter 3, however, she has discovered the hero is not a murderer, but to protect him from going to prison, she pretends he spent the night in her bedroom. This alibi protects him but destroys her reputation, so they are forced to pretend they are engaged…. We may find out the true killer in chapter two and the dead body may matter no more to the story. It’s served its purpose in setting off the chain of problems which drive the plot.
* * *
In the Marathon Race Method, the Big Problem at the heart of the story’s conflict is the problem introduced right off the bat. The characters run and run after the solution, which doesn’t come until the end of the book. There are other problems, twists and turns on the road to the finish line, but they are all basically part of the same race.
For instance, imagine a similar story to the one above, but this time make it a Mystery. Now the question of who killed the dead man on the heroine’s lawn is the central question to be answered by the book. The heroine may still cease to suspect the hero by Chapter Three (perhaps prematurely) but the mystery must remain unsolved until the climax of the novel. In this version, the subplots of the heroine marrying the hero to give him an alibi/protect her reputation supplement her quest to find the murderer. (And who knows, maybe the rogue did do it!)
* * *
I know I need a hook for the beginning of my novel. But should it be a relay or a marathon?
- by Tara Maya
My Vampire Story
I’ve now got the goth font and the black background… what am I really saying with my blog look? Perhaps I should be writing a vampire story.
Well, actually….
I, too, have a vampire story. Yes. Really. April Fool’s is over, and I’m not a ninja of humor, so you can trust me on this. According to Nathan’s poll, they aren’t passe yet. Don’t worry, this isn’t the topic of my Secret Novel. I haven’t had a full idea yet, only an inkling of one — the core of the story, the unique twist.
It definitely has a unique twist. Not sparkles. It’s never been done before.
Unfortunately, there may have been a good reason for that.
My vampires are unlikely to make tweenyboppers swoon. I wanted to address Lady Glamis’ question about what is the obsession with zombies and vampires and other ghoulies. (Actually, ghouls are much under used.) How much of a twist do you need to justify revisiting a much-used trope like vampires (or zombies or werewolves or Americans in Paris). How far can you twist an idea before you risk losing the elements of the archetypes which make them beloved?
(Pictured: Sharon Tate as Sarah Shagal in The Fearless Vampire Killers. I saw this cheesy movie years ago. I love her dress.)