Too Many Twists

By Jenny Hilborne
Author of mysteries and thrillers

Some authors make it hard on themselves...and it shows.

I recently finished reading a book, which I won't name, written by a well-known and highly praised author who, in my opinion, did this very thing. The writing was good and the main plot compelling (for which I awarded 4 stars); however, there were three separate plot lines which were each so convoluted I struggled to focus on any one of them. Apparently, I wasn't alone - I checked out the reviews and saw this complaint noted a number of times.

The book was a complex read and over 500 pages long. The main plot by itself - an insurance scam -  would have been enough, and the book would have been a good mystery, a lot shorter, and a far easier read. The main plot, as it happens, turned out to be the least interesting of the three mysteries the author combined into this one book. The second plot line was more interesting and I found myself slightly irritated when the story dropped that thread for a while and dragged my attention back to the first plot, which continued to rack up the twists and turns, giving the reader perhaps too much to digest.

Interspersed between the first and second plots were the private interjections from one of the main characters. These were the most moving portions of the book...and the most jarring. The author jumped about so much, I felt lost half the time...and anyone who knows me knows I have a horrible sense of direction. Many times during this book, I struggled to find my way back. The author used the term "pinball" for one of her characters and I felt like that while I was reading.

After I finished the book, I checked out more of this author's work to see if I wanted to try another. Based on the reviews of the other books, the general consensus was no. The "pinball" theme seems to run through the reviews.

To me as a reader, this is an example of a talented writer and a great storyteller trying too hard. All three mysteries were complex (another reason I gave the book 4 stars). Three separate books could have been made out of this and each one would have been great on its own. All three together, not so great an experience for the reader. The overall rating for this book is 3.2 stars with almost an equal amount of 1* and 5* reviews.

I'm all for the complexity and I like to be challenged, but too many twists or too many complex plot lines can spoil the enjoyment.

Thoughts?

Readers: what books have you read with too many plot lines? Would they have been better if they'd been written as separate books?

When is it not okay?

By Jenny Hilborne
Author of Mysteries and Thrillers

I love to eavesdrop. While some people might find it creepy to listen in on the conversations of others, I don't. It's not like I position myself to engineer it and secretly listen in to private conversations. People talk in loud voices and air their personal business in public places. It's true, the juicy snippets make me prick up my ears, and I always have a notebook and pen handy to jot useful tidbits down. It's also true I sometimes ride the bus and sit in busy cafe's for research, to watch people and listen to what's going on. Public transport is a fantastic way to pick up ideas for great plot lines and interesting scenes.

On a recent twenty minute trip into town, I learned about one male passenger's whole life including where he grew up, his failed marriages and the causes behind them, job losses and divorce. Everyone on the bus heard his story. Fair game to use any interesting bits, as far as I'm concerned. He doesn't know me. If I used anything he said, and if he ever reads any of my books, he will never know he contributed. And he clearly didn't care who heard him.

What I struggle with is using elements from the stories I'm told by people I know, people who've shared parts of their lives with me. If I have their prior permission, or if they've unloaded for this purpose - for me to tell their story - no problem. But sometimes I don't want to ask for their permission. I don't even want to suggest I might like to use what they've told me in a plot line because it feels unkind and tacky, as though I've lost my compassion as a friend and think about them only in terms of how I can use them in my work. The thought that a situation so troubling for them might make compelling reading for someone else seems insensitive, and I wonder if by asking permission to use it, I'm somehow making light of their struggle. To use it without their permission seems wrong, yet I hate to let an opportunity for a great story slip by. I'm not looking to benefit from anyone's personal tragedy, more I'm looking to write a good story I believe readers will find believable, compelling and be drawn to. As journalists always look for good stories to report, writers always look for good plot lines and most of our (best) fiction is ground in the truth.

My upcoming release, Stone Cold, is a psychological thriller. Part of the idea for one of the plot lines is born out of a real-life tragedy. I can't ask the person's permission to use it because they are dead, but I wonder if I should have discussed it with their family. It happened a long time ago and it never occurred to me back then that I'd ever want to use it in a novel. Over the years, the tragedy and the facts surrounding it nagged me. I believe my friend would have encouraged me to write it. I don't have direct contact with the family members, and they don't know me, so maybe it doesn't matter, yet something about it still tugs at my conscience. In real life, it didn't turn out okay, and that's the source of my dilemma. In fiction, I can give it a fitting ending and give the bad guys what they deserve. Fictional justice. I hope my friend would approve.

Some people argue that it isn't necessary to use real life tragedy to create good fiction, but I find movies made out of real life tragedies stir the strongest emotions within the audience. I'm sure there are many examples, but the two I want to use are the Titanic and The Impossible; the latter being a new release based on a true story of a family's survival of the 2004 tsunami that struck Thailand. I enjoyed both these movies and never felt the fictionalized aspects detracted from the real life tragedy or demeaned those who lost their lives. The devastation of the real life events were immense, yet pleasure was gained from the story itself - from the survival, the triumphs, humanity and the way people pulled together to survive - not from the real life tragedy. I came away from both movies with empathy for the real life victims, people I don't know. If using real life tragedy, whether on a large scale or from a personal event, in a movie or a novel can move us and make us care about what happened, I don't see it as wrong or unnecessary. To me, it's even more compelling because aspects of the story are based on real life events. Real life events create believable fiction, and it makes me care more.

Whenever we fictionalize the truth in our novels, writers twist the facts and alter the identities of anyone upon whom we base a character to protect their privacy. Wherever necessary, we also modify the circumstances to make them unrecognizable to any particular person. Ethically speaking, even with a disclaimer, is this enough? If a writer wants to use the real life tragedy of someone they know, even if indirectly, and they have protected the identity and privacy of the real life characters, should they obtain permission first? Is there a time when it is not okay to use real life tragedy in fiction? When is that time?

A Long and Winding Road . . . Gets Me Lost

By Peg Brantley, Writer at Work, Stumbling Toward Publication


Technical difficulties.
Brain farts.
Frequent stops.
Blurred vision.

I need help.

There must be some fabulous, fool-proof (and I mean that literally) method to keep details straight. Something even those of us who are technically challenged can use.

My main characters are fine. We've been living together for so long I know their idiosyncrasies and habits well. But minor characters? Even in real life, I have trouble remembering people's names. Let alone some walk-on who insists on being referenced again ninety-seven pages later.

What about those loose threads? Those little bits of information I introduced to later feed into something bigger and um . . . where are they? what were they?

I have folders. They're pretty (I buy the printed ones at the office supply store—a different design for each manuscript). They're also closed unless it's a research item, or a character study.

I have a spiral notebook. Somewhere. And while it might have some information in it, I can't count on it to be thorough. Because I'm not even quite sure where it is. And whether or not I actually took the time to write down what I'm looking for at this moment.

Stickies? Where would I stick them? Eventually my computer screen would be covered, and then it really would be a hit and miss proposition.

And unless someone wants to come and sit down with me to teach me Excel, I'm not inclined to spend much time inside the big green "X" icon. I have enough trouble with the address list I keep in it somewhere. It frustrates me beyond belief.

There's probably something cool in Scrivener for this. If so, please tell me where it is and how to use it.

Is that what edits are for?

It could also be that I'm at that place with this manuscript where it's all suddenly become a muddle and I'm convinced it's a mess and hopeless and what in the world have I barfed up?

Seriously, smart and organized writers . . . how do you keep things straight?