It’s taken a while to finish (hence the lack of posting recently) but it was our first attempt at making a video, so we were learning along the way. In fact, we had such a good time working on this, we’re sifting through ideas for a short film to make over the summer (using better camera and equipment and mics next time, though…).

Credits

• Cameras, video editing and audio mixing – Chris Collins
• Audio recording and editing – Julie Cunningham
• Music – Theanon Wonder

Tone’s a difficult quality to define when talking about fiction. It’s not voice – that’s how a writer says things; it’s more about what you do and don’t say. What you’re prepared to show. Whether you go all-out, or tone it down. As it were.

The tone of Make a Move evolved as I wrote, but there were rules from the start, and they shaped the feel of the situations in the book. They set expectations. Before I started writing, I had to decide what age group I was going to pitch the book at, and what I could and couldn’t get away with based on that decision. It seems naive now, but at the time it seemed reasonable to ensure that my story of killers and strippers would be suitable for young adults to access the largest readership. I hadn’t considered the artistic implications of that decision, but it made commercial sense.

The decision to avoid any sexual expletives started off as a challenge: was it even possible writing in this genre? Turns out it is, kind of. Most people swear when they’re under stress or immediate threat of conflict – it’s a way of venting the pressure – but by avoiding that behaviour I found my characters talking in a way that was confident, casual and humorous when faced with impending violence. It wasn’t being glib, it was just a lack of fear. I liked how that style of dialogue flowed, so I stuck with it. Later in the book, as Freddy struggles to deal with his new life, a theme emerged -whether it’s possible to live in a debased situation without yourself becoming debased. I realised that my goal of avoiding sexual swearing (let’s call it “the big four”) mirrored the theme of philosophical conflict in the story. Now I had to stick with it, and I did for the most part, only resorting to potty mouth on two occasions, and learning that there’s no replacement term for “shitty”.

But language isn’t the only way to cause offence; some situations or realities are fundamentally damaging to young minds, and most parents won’t want their children exposed to those concepts until they’re old enough to understand the complexities themselves. Hell – I don’t understand the complexities of the sex industry – and how people find themselves with so few choices that prostitution looks like a valid career choice – myself, and I have a kid of my own. Wait – maybe it’s wrong to say I don’t understand it, but I’m definitely not qualified to write about it with any authority. Yet here I was, setting my story in a world of prostitutes, strippers and dirty pimps…

I could be accused of ignoring the harsh realities of the lives of some of my supporting characters, of not taking their plight seriously, but Make a Move is a positive book, and my artistic choices reflected what I wanted to write about, rather than what I didn’t. Take the character of Corentin, for example – the little boy with a prostitute mother, both of whom Jay befriends in Episode Two. His situation is less than appealing to most readers, but at his age what his mother does for a living isn’t important, not when compared to seeing his first Disney film, or being treated to ice cream, or making a new friend. And that’s where my focus, as the narrator, lies.

How a character feels is so much more important to me than the facts of the plot, and not just in Corentin’s case. It doesn’t matter how complex the world I create, or how sordid the environment, those core relationships are my primary focus, no matter how freaky things get. And that’s the basis for Make a Move’s tone – that’s what makes it different. Because it’s a thriller, with nothing too thrilling happening. Because it’s set in a world of sex for sale, but it’s not lascivious. Because when people die, the emotional implications are more important than how far the blood spatters.

Because even though all hell is kicking off, it just comes down to three friends, trying to build a life and have some fun.

And that’s why it works.

Hey – I just started six sentences in a row with a conjunction. Told you I was ill.

I Know Kung Fu

I was about five films into a Jet Li jag when I saw Kiss of the Dragon – a Luc Besson-produced film featuring a lot of people getting kicked in the head on and around famous Parisian landmarks. It was cool, if forgettable, but there was something in it that stuck with me. When Li’s Chinese intelligence operative arrives in Paris, he stays with a sleeper agent – an old man who’s been living in the city for most of his adult life, running a shop that makes and sells prawn crackers to local Chinese restaurants, whose real purpose is to provide a place to stay for agents passing through on Chinese government business. Spoiler Alert! He gets killed, and Jet Li takes his body to the steps of the Sacre Coeur and lights some incense, before running off to kick more people in the head. Nice scene, but it left me wondering who this guy was? What was his story? How many agents has he helped? I thought about a book based on the life of a sleeper agent, his excitement derived from the various operatives that land on his doorstep looking for a meal and a clean bed, but it felt flat. Without his own story, the episodic nature of the other operatives’ adventures would lack a narrative core upon which to hang, and it’d be a mess. I filed the idea away.

Sex Tourists

The first time I went to Paris, I didn’t know about Pigalle, and I ended up walking down the Boulevard de Clichy by accident. Honest. My then-girlfriend (now wife) and I had visited Montmarte, and decided to walk back down the hill toward the centre of the city instead of descending the 200-odd steps into the Abbesses metro station. I figured we’d taken one turn too far when I saw the first adult video stores, but we kept on, and it wasn’t long before we were invited, by a nice lady and her three big men-friends, if we wanted to go and see a live sex show. It probably helped that it was the middle of the day, but the situation just didn’t seem threatening, even when we politely declined the offer and headed on. It’s a strange place: filthy and sordid in all of the oldest ways, but friendly, and open, and very Parisian. I filed the idea away.

Skip To The End…

Spaced was an awesome TV show – original, funny, and intermittently moving. I bought both series on DVD on a bit of a nostalgia trip and watched the whole lot practically back-to-back. When I was done, I wanted more (they only made 14 half-hour episodes) and was feeling inspired, so toyed with the idea of trying to write a sitcom. Thinking through some ideas, though, I realised that Spaced had left me a bit flat – as the format hadn’t allowed me to get to know the characters to any great depth. They were great people, but compared to the depth of character you can mine in a novel, I just didn’t know that much about them.

That was the first time I thought of writing a book in a sit-com format, or rather, writing a sit-com in a book. I played with a number of ideas, one of which was that the setting should be aspirational in some way, which lead me to Paris as a location. That triggered a memory of Kiss of the Dragon, and how I’d wanted to explore the sleeper’s story; this idea of writing a sit-com could solve the problem of the narrative for him being too episodic, as I’d be purposefully embracing the episodic nature of the format. In the film, the sleeper’s shop is in a red-light district, but it was a nasty, cruel place with no room for humour; I ditched that, but other settings I thought about felt too cosy and sterile to produce any real drama. I think the idea of disguising the safe house as an adult cinema started as a joke, but one that had some truth to it. Those memories of Pigalle and it’s cartoony brand of naughtiness were still fresh, and as I dropped my scenario into that place – trying it out – a number of background characters arrived, and they brought friends, and scenarios, and conflicts, and humour, and cake.

Make a Move had found its home.

A few people have said my dialogue reads like a comic, which is cool. Comic dialogue has to be lean and efficient to fit in the speech bubbles, and I try to emulate that sparsity.

The way I found an ear for dialogue, and used it to create my own style, was to listen to people talking and break down what they say into two containers: what they want to say, and what they think they should say. Next, I threw away everything in the second container.

Sound Smarter By Talking Less!

Have you listened closely when a witness to an event is interviewed on TV?

• “I was leaving the pub when I heard a scream and the car crashed into the actual wall”. The actual wall? As opposed to what? A virtual wall?
• “Personally, I think it was the wrong thing to do.” Is it possible to have an impersonal thought?
• “The man himself dived in to save the kid.” Good job he didn’t dive in as someone else.

I know these are picky things, but they illustrate my point. All language is peppered with useless, often nonesensical, words (really, kind of, you know) that people use because they think that’s how people talk. It’s a belief that the more you say, the more what you say matters. I think there’s a better way: by all means talk a lot, but say a lot too.

You can see the same thing in book dialogue. A lot of writers need the security blanket of an opening “well” or “so” before they let someone speak. It’s the written equivalent of “um”. It’s almost become an accepted standard – that that’s how people talk in books. Fair enough, but it’s not how my characters talk. My characters convey the information they need to with as many words as they need and no more. The content can be trivial, or apocalyptic; high art or low art. Regardless, it’s delivered in the same economical way. It’s one way in which I created the tone of the book – people talking about epic events in minimalist, almost dismissive dialogue. Yes, it’s stylised, but it has style.

This economy of words is the key to keeping dialogue flowing. By parsing ideas down to their core concept, you can create dialogue that is portable, and once it’s portable, you can mix it up to find beats that bring your characters’ words to life.

An Example

“Freddy stared at her for a second, frustrated. He kept his voice calm. ‘That was a question,’ he said. ‘I now have no more idea of what is going on, and you’ve annoyed me’ – her eyes narrowed, so he eased off – ‘a bit.’”

I love that construction – the strong parenthetic break hiding the end of the sentence, turning it into a punchline. I try to use that technique sparingly as any stylistic tool can become tiresome if overplayed. Identifying tags and actions can be mixed into dialogue to pace the rhythm to perfection, but the spoken content has to be lean and portable. Long, multi-clause sentences just don’t arrange well.

How Much is Too Much?

I’m not sure what percentage of Make a Move is dialogue, but I know it’s a lot – more than the third of the wordcount recommended by some how-to-write books (I learned that rule quickly, and broke it twice as fast). I’ve experimented with a variety of writing styles in working towards something I’m happy with, and dialogue-heavy prose just works for me. I’ve written extended sections of action-description, really digging into the details of a situation, but I don’t find them fun to write, so I’d be a hypocrite if I expected them to be fun to read.

But it’s not just a question of taste – that kind of writing just isn’t giving me what I want, which is something that dialogue can: relationships. All of the stories have been told, and creating an intriguing character is almost impossible, but human relationships can still provide a compelling experience within an unoriginal narrative. How do the characters feel about what is happening to them? Without lines of tired exposition, the only way to find out is when they share their thoughts with each other, and allow us to listen in. Those interactions are the life of the story, the way-in for readers, and suppressing the vitality of those relationships with tired, bloated dialogue will rot a story from the inside out.

Ironically, I’ve said enough.

Once I had my three leads, and knew how they related to each other, Make a Move was born.

Freddy Mossman

“Not one part of me caring about you right now.”

I honestly can’t remember where the idea for Freddy’s character came from. I know where Jay came from – he was the foil for the potential mundanity that sat around Freddy’s Parisian exile, but Freddy’s origin is a mystery to me. Obviously, his background dictates his type to a large extent – MI6 recruit men and women with no distinguishing features that can be used to identify them, and his subsequent training provided his physique and demeanour. I knew I needed to break that type to an extent though, as this isn’t a military book, and I needed to inject more humanity into him. Once I had the idea for how to do that (big plot reveal from Episode Six – I’ll say no more) Freddy was… ready. Thing is, I didn’t want to detail him too much, as the more readers learn about a character (specifically, the more they learn that differs from their personality), the harder it is for them to project themselves into the story. He’s a cypher for the reader’s reaction to the situations the story presents, and I want people 100% along for the ride. I’m not a big fan of first-person perspectives right now, so Freddy, even as the star, had to take a back seat and let the reader use him as a gateway into the story. There’s a reason he’s just a silhouette on the book cover…

Jay McFarlane

“Take your mind off things with some random acts of social disorder.”

As I said before, Jay’s the opposite of Freddy. He also the person we all want to be: free, fearless, creative, vibrant, and living by his own rules. Jay walks a fine line between being an adventurer/agitator and just being an idiot, but I was careful to keep him safely within his moral framework – no matter how loose that might be. One strange occurrence I hadn’t expected when designing my characters is that all the girls love some Jay. I never tried to paint him as handsome, or even cute, but something about his personality struck a chord with my female readers. I should be put out; if anything, I’d say that Freddy is closest to my personality. Jay’s my other side though – the person I want to be, and I occasionally find when I’m at my most confidently creative. It’s no wonder that I found the interplay between Freddy and Jay so easy to write – they’re both major parts of my psyche. And, no, that’s not cheating; “write what you know.”

I’m still surprised no one noticed that my two male leads are named after the two biggest horror icons of the eighties, but it wasn’t planned that way; it really was a coincidence. Once I spotted it, I thought about it, decided it was cool, and ran with it.

Names

Speaking of which, I think I have an original way of coming up with names for characters. Most character names in books are determined by the genre of the fiction, hence the number of action adventures peopled with characters named Jack. Even if you try to steer clear of the obvious types, it’s hard to break a pattern; people just aren’t wired that way, and truly random thinking is almost impossible. I gave up trying to think of names a long time ago, so when I introduce a new character, I step from my desk to my CD collection and leaf through the credits of a random album. You’d be surprised at the variety of interesting names you can find involved in music production. A first name from one album, a surname from another, and you have a new character. Easy.

French names aren’t so easy, though. Aside from the fact that I have only two French-language albums in my collection, I don’t know enough about French naming conventions and etymology to be confident in using one at random. Luckily, there are a number of websites listing French names and detailing their origin, so I can be confident I haven’t used a name that is either archaic or regionally improbable. It’s not as random, but I’m happy with the balance.

Holly Henderson

“I’m not sure what’s worse – that you’d be comfortable asking me to do that, or that you’d think I had the contacts to arrange it.”

I left Holly until last as, out of the three, she’s the one who represents my biggest success as a writer. Freddy and Jay are two sides of my personality, so writing them is easy; I just think, “if I was in a Freddy mood, what would I do?”. Holly’s different though – guys writing about girls is hard. At thirty-five, I’d hope I’ve learned a lot about women, but I know there’s infinitely more to discover, and that gender – both your own programming and that bestowed upon you by society – is at the core of every decision you make. I was worried from the beginning that Holly just wouldn’t be believable for my female readers – something would give it away, not matter how small.

I overcame this hurdle by first accepting that I wasn’t qualified to write a female character. I’m not being proud – that’s just a fact. That done, I fell back on the adage of “fake it ‘til you make it”. I lifted stories and scenarios from the women I know well – my wife, sister and female friends – and riffed on those situations. That was working well until about midway through the book, where Holly is becoming closer with Freddy and Jay and adopting more of their mindset, at which point I did feel confident enough to write her; she was playing by my rules now, and I felt I knew her well enough to make some suggestions. There’s no feeling like having a female reader tell you they identified with Holly, and enjoyed her journey, especially as I purposefully placed obstacles and decisions before her that aren’t the normal fare of mainstream women’s fiction. Holly took a different path, and people were happy to join her for the ride.

The Best of the Rest

The episodic structure of Make a Move gave me the opportunity to introduce and remove characters exactly how and when I wanted, and that freedom gave me room to have fun. Monsieur Vasseur – the aggressively self-aware clichéd French baker. The Beautiful Spy – the adolescents’ wet dream with a bitter streak that makes your eyes water. Inspector Guischard – the Parisian policeman who would rather Freddy and his friends keep their crimes off his radar. Hector, Dunnes and Abbott – the trio of British agents delivering bad attitude, disease and high-velocity rifles to the party.

The accepted wisdom states that you shouldn’t introduce a character to a story unless they’re going to advance the plot in some way. That belief assumes that dialogue, character and tone are irrelevant, and that plot is king.

As I’ll discuss in a post covering dialogue, I honestly believe that to be the best way to write a boring book.

I wrote the first draft of Make a Move in Microsoft Word for Mac. It wasn’t the best way to work, but it did the job and got the first draft done. I’m a big fan of not messing about when something’s working for me, so I had no reason to look elsewhere, but when I delivered the draft of Episode Six to my first readers, knowing something was wrong with it (an issue they confirmed) I was tempted to look around for a better way to write, or specifically to edit. I hate scrolling through page after page of text; I prefer to deal with individual scenes – really focus on the details and how the scene fits together – and only at the end assess the completed work. So I looked around for some writing software that would let me work the way I wanted, and I found Scrivener, and I never looked back.

Research

Thank God for the internet.

Seriously – why spend days in libraries, or researching locations, when you can look up facts and figures as you write? It’s amazing. I still like to visit locations, but thats more for inspiration and high-res photography for book jacket designs; why jump on a plane to find the ideal location for a scene when you can walk the streets of almost any major city using Google Maps Streetview, and then check out interiors via a business’ website? It’s so much easier. More importantly, it’s quicker, which frees up more time for writing. And if you care about carbon footprints, you’ll be happier.

My research method is to gather bookmarks into my “Research” folder of whatever browser I’m using (currently Google Chrome) or, if it’s an image, text/Word/PDF file or whole webpage I want to read offline, I drag it into Scrivener.

The Plan

Make a Move was easy to plan; six episodes, each requiring three main ideas. Originally it was all planned in Word files, but now I can just create 6 folders in Scriv, one for each episode, and add files for key scenes, as I’m doing now for the sequel. I try not to restrict myself by planning in too much detail as I get bored writing the story; I need to find out what happens as much as the reader, so I only put down key plot points, such as “In this scene, Freddy needs to discover this, and get from here to there”. I have files of ideas for scenes, gags, action beats, and I lift those into the scene as I go. It’s not jazz (shudder) but it’s as freeform as I can keep it while still being structured enough to get me to the end.

The Execution

I’m not a born writer; it’s hard for me to keep grinding out wordcount, but I’m getting more productive. I guess 1000 words is a good session, 2000 an amazing one. I won’t be mad at myself for only doing a couple of hundred though – that’s how it goes sometimes.

Of course, this all happens after I get started, and that can take a while…

I tend to write in my study (read: third bedroom with computer desk, bookcases and a variety of musical instruments), but it’s never been an inspiring place to write. Nowhere really works for me. My average writing session is two hours: one hour of getting ready to write followed by one hour of writing. I always sit down with the intent to write immediately, but I have to stare at the screen, re-read the previous section, think, walk about, play some guitar … it takes time to start flowing. Luckily, once I’m writing, I’m fast, so I claw the time back.

Make a Move took about two years to write, which isn’t great, but remember I said it was six episodes with three main ideas each? Most novels have three main ideas TOTAL; Make a Move really took a lot of inspiration and time to come up with coherent, entertaining, original ideas, and they didn’t all hit first time. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit, as episodes five and six are a two-parter sharing three ideas, but that’s still fifteen. You try thinking of fifteen narrative hooks using the same characters.

The End of the Beginning

So that was the first draft done. Two years. Okay, maybe two and a half, but who’s counting? I was pleased with how the first draft came out (apart from that issue with Episode Six) and was ready, after a short hiatus, to start editing. I’m not great at editing, but that’s okay, as I’m not great at “just getting it down” to finish the first draft. My writing tends to hit the page in a near-finished form, which also goes some way to explain why it takes me so long. I’m obsessed with the form and pacing of dialogue and action beats, and I can’t put anything down unless I know it’s my best work. In the edit, I’ll polish it further, but by then I’ll have learned more and feel I can do better than my raw effort.

I said before about the issues with Episode Six. Not wanting to reveal plot points, it involved a misjudged sub-plot, told as backstory, that just killed the pacing of the finale. Killed it dead. As I approached the edit, I knew I had to break the episode apart to fix it, which was when I turned to Scrivener as a writing tool. With all of the scenes separated, I began to delicately extricate the details that were causing problems. Translation: I deleted all of it. Like I said, I’m not great at editing, so I just delete what isn’t working and rewrite it. It’s just what works for me.

With that major flaw fixed, I just read and reread the book, over and over, until every sentence felt as polished as I could make it. I’m not talking about major rewrites – just pacing dialogue better and making sure my prose is as interesting to read as possible. With all of the episodes the same length – give or take a couple of hundred words, I knew I was there.

I love Make a Move; it’s an awesome book, and writing it pushed me to new levels of creativity and inspiration. It made me happy. I’m trying to sell copies of Make a Move, but I’m not marketing it, I’m marketing me. That probably explains why I’m not enjoying it as much as I thought I might; printing and typesetting and retailing aren’t fun; ideas and creativity and kick-ass dialogue are fun.

I need to dig words out of the book and get them into the wild. I need to find new ways to market the book using Freddy, Jay and Holly as my spokespersons. I need to play to my strengths and let my writing do the talking for me. I’ve already got some cool ideas…

I’m not giving up blogging about the process of self publishing; I’m getting some good traffic and I still feel I have a lot to offer those just starting out. I am, however, going to be looking into my writing more; I’m going to tone down the technology and focus on the ideas. After all – I want readers to enjoy the site as well as writers.

When I told my friends about this refocus, it confirmed my decision, as they immediately returned with topics they wanted me to discuss. I had three friends with me throughout the writing and editing, but more arrived after the book was done, and they want to learn more about the process that brought the book into being. I’m going to write five posts covering the subjects they asked about, and publish one a day next week (7th-11th June).

There. I’ve said it now, so I have to do it. It’s going to be a busy week.

Yet it excites me.

I suspect that in every successful creative career, there’s a point where the artist took a risk. I took a slight risk self-publishing Make a Move, but I was reasonably confident I’d at least make my money back. It wasn’t a leap of faith. This… is something of a different magnitude.

I needed to capture this moment so I could look back at it later – either to recall this feeling of fear in taking a risk, or to loathe myself for being a loser and not jumping for it. It might not work out; there might be too many obstacles in the way, and it’s an idea I have to “sell” to at least two different parties, but I’m more interested in finding out how I respond to this situation as/if it develops. Details, hopefully, to follow.

And don’t worry, Make a Move fans: Freddy, Jay and Holly WILL be back soon. This project, by its nature, would have to be a very fast turnaround, and it could be the creative burn I need to get Make a Move 2 fired up.

I’d like to say I don’t need the validation, but I do. I can’t take myself out of the equation as I wrote the thing, so I need someone else to do that for me.

I’ve done everything I can to make sure the book receives a sympathetic review (apart from getting a friend to review it, which is ultimately pointless). I chose a local publication with a readership that sits squarely in my target demographic, and I queried the literary editor without sending in the book, who is now keen to review it himself after reading the blurb I sent. So far, it all looks good, but I’m not making any assumptions; I need this review to be objective, which means no safety net.

I’ll post a link to the review (if it’s also in the online edition of the paper) once it’s out.

Fingers crossed…

So, this post isn’t writing advice; it’s just some changes I made to my writing and life styles that got me through Make a Move, and that are on my mind as I plan book two. Maybe there’s something in here that will inspire you to make your own changes.

The List

• Don’t plan in too much detail. If you already know every last plot detail of a book, there’s nothing left for you, as the author, to discover. If the writing of a book isn’t filled with delights and surprises, it’s just work, and most day jobs pay better.
• Make it as easy as possible to write. For me, this meant buying a new battery for my laptop and taking it with me everywhere. A lot of people create a sanctuary of creativity in which to work – a haven of peace and inspiration. If you need that to write, what are you doing when you’re not in it?
• Stop watching tv. Okay – this was one bit of advice I did take on board from Stephen King (in his book, On Writing), but I added my own twist. I like tv – I think Make a Move would make a great tv show, so I’m not going to dismiss it, either as an art form or a source of inspiration. What I did instead was to break my watching habits so I watch a show in my own time, rather than when it’s on. I have Sky+ for that, but there are many ways to “time-shift” your viewing (legally…): HD/DVD recorders, catch-up tv services, hell – even a VCR. The trick is to get out of that mentality that tells you “it’s 9pm, time for show X”; that hard stop is like an incoming truck ready to crush your productivity. And try to limit yourself to having one or two shows on the go at a time unless you’re working to a 30-hour day.
• Create demand. The first book you write has nobody waiting on it, so the only pressure to complete it comes from within. If you can, deliver it to your first readers in stages, so that their expectation for subsequent parts is driving you. Make a Move is written in six episodes, so it’s perfect for this, but any book can be broken up during the writing. Those smaller project goals make it easier to keep going too.
• Write something new. Okay – this is a contentious one, but it applies to me, and that’s what this list is about. If you’re writing your own take on a story that’s already in print, all you’re doing is walking in someone else’s footprints, and chances are, their story was pretty good (or why else did you read it) so you’re setting the bar even higher than it needs to be. My biggest issue with this approach is that I feel like I’m copying/rehashing/riding coat-tails (choose a term based on which is least offensive to you), and I can’t think of anything more likely to sap energy and creativity. If you think you’re in familiar territory, make it REALLY different. Play with textures of writing, with readers’ expectations. Break the rules. And if you’re convinced that you can’t get away from that previous work, ask yourself if there’s even a need for your book. Maybe you should move onto the next idea instead.

Like I said, this isn’t advice; it’s just a summary of the thought processes that got me where I needed to be, but like I said above, people love to give advice, so I’m going to give in to temptation and share one cast-iron writing tip:

Adverbs are for children.