And, having written these tips down, it seemed a shame not to share them here. Your own pearls of wisdom gratefully received!

Write the jacket copy first
When I am putting together the idea for a crime thriller or mystery, the first thing I usually do is write my own jacket copy. Sometimes also called the flap copy, this is the brief outline of the type you’d find on the back of a paperback, or the inside flap of a hardback. (Occasionally, people refer to this as the blurb, but to me those are the quotes on the cover.)

Writing your own jacket copy forces you to focus on the theme of the book, and the conflict at its heart. The stronger the idea, generally, the more simply it can be expressed. I try to hone and modify the jacket copy as I go along. It helps to remind me what I set out to achieve in the beginning.

It may well not make it onto the finished cover, but it’s more for your own benefit than anyone else’s. It also comes in very handy during the writing process, when somebody asks, “So, what’s your latest book about?” if you have a short, snappy and intriguing bit of copy to quote from. Always leave ’em wanting more.

Keep a summary as you go
Regardless of whether you plot carefully before you begin, or you write by the seat of your pants, I’d always advise keeping a summary as you go along. When I’ve finished a chapter or scene, I jot down the main points and the gist of the dialogue, together with any story threads I’ve laid in that I’ll need to remember to tie up later. After once managing to include a nine-day week in an early book, I also mark time changes—Day 3, late morning, rain, for example. And I keep a note of how closely the opening of this scene follows the end of the last one.

Doing all this not only allows me to keep track of the timescale of my book, but also when I need to interweave different things happening in different places at the same time without my head exploding. In the latest book, I have time jumps as well as quick location changes. This leads to lots of opportunities for things to go Horribly Wrong.

But the biggest help in having a summary comes at the editing stage. In the case of the last book, the editor and I could work out most of the structural alterations on the 33-page summary, without having to wade through 300 pages of typescript. It made everyone’s life so much easier.

What’s in a name?
I have always found names hugely important in establishing character in the shortest time with the least effort. A William is a different person to a Will, or a Billy. Just as an Elizabeth is a different person to a Liz, or a Betty. In my last book, I had two women called Virginia and Pauline. One was the local lady of the manor, while the other was the cleaner at the pub. It probably would have worked to reverse the names, but not without some kind of explanation, I feel.

When I start to make notes for a new book, I usually jot an alphabet across the page, with a mark above a letter for a character with a first name beginning with that letter, and a mark below for last names beginning with that letter.

This lets me see, at a glance, if I’ve accidentally given characters names that are too similar, and which letters of the alphabet are free to use for new or minor characters. I also keep a cast list in my notes, which I add to as new people arrive. An added bonus is that, when I’m in contact with the producer of the audiobook, I already have a complete character list to hand, which I can go through to make notes for accents, etc.

Make every character count
Unlike writing for TV, where scripted dialogue for minor characters ups the production cost, in the pages of a book everyone has a chance to speak. I try to make every character into a real person rather than a cipher for the plot. Several characters in my latest book have only one scene, but I try to make it count, and to make them memorable—a female truck driver called Big Frankie; a housebound elderly Russian émigré who uses the BBC Radio 3 classical playlist to pinpoint times and dates; an expert witness cheerfully discussing murder over lunch. They all deserve the best I can give them.

Dressing and driving
Likewise, the clothes your character wears can say a lot about them very quickly. Are they cheap or expensive? Are they too tight, or hanging off, and what does that tell you about that person’s recent circumstances? Are they suitable for the occasion, or hopelessly under or over-dressed? Raymond Chandler opened The Big Sleep by describing PI Philip Marlowe down to the motif on his socks. Normally, I don’t feel the urge to go quite that far.

Likewise, the kind of car the character drives—and the way they drive it—is indicative of who they are, or who they want to be perceived to be. A particular character in the last book appeared in one scene trying to keep a low profile, so he arrived in a battered old Japanese saloon car. Later, when he was aiming to intimidate, he turned up in a Bentley. This raised immediate questions about how he earned enough money to afford it. (Or, these days, to afford to fill it with fuel.)

Use all your senses
We tend to describe what we can see and hear when we write, but not always what we can feel or smell. I had one of my main protagonists wake sweating in the early hours of the morning because he was plagued by nightmares, for example, not because it’s high summer. Indeed, that book took place in winter, with cold temperatures to match. In another scene, a handful of bay leaves scattered onto a wood-burning stove released the scent of their perfumed oil into a room to create a warm and comforting air.

Get into a scene late, get out of it early
My final tip for writing a crime novel would be to get into a scene as late as you can, and get out of it early. Sometimes it’s tempting to work your way into a scene by showing your characters travelling and arriving. Unless that journey serves a purpose, it’s almost always better to begin with them already in a location, talking to someone they need information from—sometimes even in mid-conversation. I love to hit the ground running with my stories, and grab the reader right from the start.

This week’s Word of the Week is bystanderism, which is the phenomenon where we do not help someone we’ve come across who apparently needs help. We may be less likely to help when there are other people present—passive bystanders—who we may feel should do so. We may tell ourselves, If they’re not helping, perhaps we’re mistaken and nothing is wrong. So, the more people around who could help, the less likely that any will help.

Events
In March, Zoë Sharp will be one of the Derbyshire authors taking part in Author Assemble. “This is a literary event, showcasing the work of authors who are local to the High Peak or who have supported and worked with the Buxton Crescent Heritage Trust. The aim is to bring writers from a variety of genres together under one roof, to shine a light on the former use of the Assembly Rooms as Buxton’s town library from 1972 to 1992—a time which many local residents remember fondly. We aim to give authors the opportunity to share their work with new audiences, gives talks about their writing and of course sell their products. Attendees will also be introduced to the work of the Buxton Crescent Heritage Trust and enjoy some time inside the splendour of the Crescent’s Assembly Rooms.” Time and date: Friday, March 17 2023, 10:00 – 17:00 at The Assembly Rooms, The Crescent, Buxton, SK17 6BH. Speakers, signing, and stalls. More details to follow.

In April, Zoë Sharp will be appearing with Caro Ramsay and Sarah Ward at Ceredigion Museum in Aberystwyth as part of the Gŵyl Crime Cymru Festival. Their panel will be Event 6: Trade Secrets, 10:15 – 11:15 on Saturday, April 22 2023. “Writing a long series, has its own difficulties, as does writing under two names in two different directions. How do you keep track? What are the things you know from your other lives that you bring to your writing? Learn a few trade secrets from three of the best. Panellists: Caro Ramsay, Zoë Sharp. Chair: Sarah Ward. Close Up Reader: Nigel Williams.”

You can read this blog and comment at https://murderiseverywhere.blogspot.com/2023/02/on-edge-of-your-seat.html

The post On the Edge of Your Seat appeared first on Zoë Sharp: Author of the Charlie Fox series and the Lakes Thriller series..

When I’ve posted previously about opening lines, a few people dismissed their importance, and I admit I’ve read a few that seemed to have been written purely to be memorable or shocking, rather than serving their true purpose. An opening line should grab you, yes, but then it has to deliver you into the right place in the story and hold you there.

So, now we come to the importance of opening chapters.

A book rarely, if ever, starts at the beginning of the story itself, and choosing the exact point at which you slide your reader into the tale is a very tricky one to judge.

The classic Private Eye
In the classic private eye tale, of course, the book so often starts with the mysterious client walking into the PI’s office. The story has already begun, of course, or the client would not require the services of an investigator. This opening gambit serves several purposes. It allows the client to make telling comments about the hero’s appearance and character. “You look like you’ve been a prize-fighter.” Or “Captain John Doe down at the precinct gave me your name. He told me you were fired for insubordination.” The office may well be shabby, at which point the PI can point out that there isn’t much money in the business if you’re an honest man. All useful devices for getting across the flavour of the story and the character without labouring the point.

This also has the advantage of cutting straight to the heart of it. There will, after all, be a certain amount of detail contained on the book jacket, which is another reason why I usually write this bit first. It gives me a good idea of where to pitch the opening of my story. No point in having a big reveal about the identity of the hero’s love interest three-quarters of the way through the book, if the jacket copy declares, ‘He falls for a beautiful Russian double-agent!’ or something similar. And I’ve seen this done recently more than once on books by very well-known authors.

Man of Mystery
Getting across your main protagonist’s character is key in the opening chapter—IF that’s where you introduce them into the story. In Lee Child’s ONE SHOT, for instance, Reacher doesn’t make his entrance until forty-five pages in. Nine books into a highly successful series, this works brilliantly to build up a sense of anticipation before the hero takes centre stage. Other characters mention his name, but have no clue who he is, and the reader feels in on the joke. With another writer, in a debut novel, that would not have worked so well.

Robert B Parker, in the opening chapter of NIGHT PASSAGE, introduces his ex-LAPD Homicide detective turned small-town police chief, Jesse Stone, in two simple pages that tell you Stone used to be a cop, and that he has a drink problem, as well as innumerable regrets about leaving behind his life in LA, not least of which involves a woman.

In Raymond Chandler’s classic, THE BIG SLEEP, the opening chapter tells you a lot about private detective Philip Marlowe, by the snappy dialogue and the observations, although I note that in the film the exchange between Marlowe and Carmen Sternwood is altered from, “Tall aren’t you,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be.” to “Not very tall, are you?” “Well, I, uh, try to be.” possibly to take into account the fact that Humphrey Bogart was only 5ft 8ins.

Reason to Read on
But I digress. The important thing is that the reader is given a real reason to read on, whether it be because of the set-up of the action, or from being hooked by the characters, and wanting to know what happens to them and their lives as the story progresses. Even with a series character, the writer has to bear in mind that people often come to the books out of order, so every time I start a new series book, I have to devise some method in the opening chapter for the reader to be shown the character(s) without boring those who know them well.

Of course, what is not included in these opening chapters is a great deal of back story. Trying to cram too much back story about your characters into the opening of the book just gets in the way of the story, bogs it down and slows the overall pace. Plus, you’re giving the reader information about people they haven’t come to care for. One agent I know says he often skips past the first three or four chapters of a new typescript because of this very problem, diving back in after the writer has settled down to just telling the story, rather than the story of how every character got to be here.

At the same time, I’m not a big fan of the cryptic prologue. It may work very well for other people to entice them into reading further, but I just find them irritating.

Flash-forward vs Foreshadowing
Other people, I know, are against flash-forward opening chapters in a crime novel, but I admit to using this device in several books. The definition of a flash-forward is an interjected scene that takes the narrative forwards from its current point. Although they can be projected, expected, or imagined, I have always tried very carefully to make sure that the opening chapters for both these books could be lifted from the start and slotted in between two later chapters, without alteration, and without cheating the reader at all. And these flash-forward openers are not taken from near the end of the book, either, although you can always spot the reviewers who didn’t read it all by the fact that they still assume this to be the case…

A flash-forward opener is different from a foreshadowing opener, which only hints at what might be to come, and is a technique used by writers to provide clues for the reader to be able to predict what might occur later in the story. An example of this is to describe a scene which includes an item later vital to the outcome of the plot, or the identity of the culprit, and often seems to be hidden among the contents of the dead man’s pockets, or the items arrayed across a desk, and is much beloved of Golden Age detective novels.

So, in my opening chapter, regardless of the book, I know I need to introduce one or more of the major players in such a way as defines their character(s) and their relationship with those around them, jump into the heart of the story, hook old and new readers alike, and set the pace and tone for the rest of the book.

Simple really, isn’t it?

Do you have a particular technique you use for opening chapters? Do you have any pet hates or favourites as a writer or a reader? Which opening chapters of the ones you’ve written or read do you like best, and why?

This week’s Word of the Week is prolepsis, from the Ancient Greek meaning to anticipate. It’s often a figure of speech in which a future event is referred to in anticipation (as in calling a character ‘the dead man’ before he’s actually dead) or in which objections are anticipated and answered (as in “‘Ah,’ you might say, ‘but that is impossible!’ Not so, because…”) although correctly this is called procatalepsis.

Getting Back Out There!
Finally, just a quick thank you to Catherine Mitchell and Trish Kenny at Mickleover Library in Derbyshire, who invited me and fellow crime/mystery/supernatural author, Sarah Ward, who also writes as Rhiannon Ward, to talk to library users last Friday evening. It was one of my first ‘In Real Life’ events since lockdown, and great fun it was, too.

You can read this blog, or comment, at Murder Is Everywhere

The post Diving Into The Story appeared first on Zoë Sharp: Author of the Charlie Fox series and the Lakes Thriller series..