FILL: Now what's a mystery?

[mbarker.livejournal.com]

Original posting 7 March 2008

Before we go to far, you might want to think about how you, as a writer, like to set up your mysteries. Or suspense.

How do you get a reader interested, how do you keep them reading, how do you convince them that somewhere down the way, you are going to reveal something interesting?

'saright? Something to contemplate on a weekend in March, eh?

Over at http://nancyfulda.livejournal.com/195030.html Nancy raises the question, and talks a bit about what doesn't quite make it (leaving out stuff? Just skipping right over important info? Nah, that's not a mystery, that's just a mistake, isn't it?).

My first response was that as writers, we need to raise questions - and then answer them. Part of what we do in the first part of the writing is to show that we can be trusted, that we will not leave the reader dangling on the edge of the precipice without sooner or later throwing them a rope, bringing in the helicopter with a skyhook, or somehow getting them out of that predicament. And having built up their trust, we can take them on a deeper dip over the edge of the cliff - and then raise them up again. Kind of like a roller coaster ride, give them a glimpse of what's coming, and then chug up the incline for a while, and . . . zoom down the incline . . . then around the curve! And then do it again.

Hum. Let's see. Mystery by expectation? Suspense in the interruptions?

How do you create that air of mystery, anyway?

When we write, we learn about ourselves.

EXERCISE: Let's see . . .

[mbarker.livejournal.com]

[Off the topic, but . . . I'm feeling the weight of those feet of clay today.

Had an encounter with academic bureaucracy, and while they all seem to feel that it has worked out well, spending a half-hour on the phone and having to explain repeatedly to people that being stupid was not going to make me go away is irritating, to say the least.

(well, I put it more politely - you tell me I have to have A to get B, but I can't have A until I produce B - this is a Catch-22, folks, can you help me fix it? which was fallacious, since I had not caused the problem nor could I fix it, but I've noticed that people are more likely to help me fix it than they are to admit that they GOOFED! And in the end, they figured out a way to get me C, thus perhaps getting me B by next week, which may, in due time, allow me to do A! Which I thought was the point of the whole exercise in futility, but :-)

Bless the idjits, for they shall be with us always. Right.]

Anyway, let's ignore that. How about a writing exercise?

Hum, perhaps, oh, let's see . . .

Why not?

[get on your marks]

Pick a character. You know the kind, the sort of person who . . . well, sure, that one.

Okay? Now what do they want to achieve? Come on, you know. They want to get to the other side of town, pick up their suit from the cleaners, plant a colony on Mars, invent the next great toothpaste flavor? Whatever, get it clear in your mind. You might even like to make a list of the steps they are taking to get there.

[get set]

Now roll your die. Pick a number from one to six.

1. Bureaucratic bafflement
2. Natural disaster
3. Deliberate interference
4. Accidental animal in the muddle
5. Family demands
6. Personal confusion

So now you have something that can get in the way, right? Spend a few minutes thinking about the wonderful ways that this stumbling block can become a great mountain range between your character and their heart's desire. Ready?

[BANG! Go!]

And write. Have your character starting towards their goal, and encountering the wonders of opposition and resistance, the delights of being pushed further and further from their agenda. And then, with a roar of indignation and commitment, with the blood dripping from their head and hands, with the spare tire flapping madly on the bent rim . . .

Tell us what happens!

(grumble, grumble, grumble . . . I can't believe they did that. Without telling me. And then they explain that . . . argh!)

When we write, we learn about ourselves.