35. SURPRISE!
The value of surprise endings. Why some work while others don't. Withholding information from the reader. Surprises that fall flat. Surprise endings that give a story a whole new perspective.
PART FOUR ONE DAMNED WORD AFTER ANOTHER: Fiction as a Craft
36. NEVER APOLOGIZE, NEVER EXPLAIN
The perils of explaining too much. The author as stage director. How to get out of the way. When to keep the reader in the dark. The reader's role in fiction.
37. HE SAID SHE SAID
Letting dialogue stand alone. Adding verbs for accent value. Alternatives to said. Special options in first-person narration. The rules and when to break them.
38. VERBS FOR VIM AND VIGOR
Strengthening your prose with stronger verbs. Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves?a case study in imaginative verb use. The Sour Lemon Score?a case study in vivid action verbs.
39. MODIFIERS FOR MOOD-SWING
Minimizing modifiers to create lean prose. Adding them to sharpen the focus. Factual vs. judgmental modifiers. Avoiding empty adjectives. Moby Dick?a case study in the use of adjectives.
40. WRITING WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED
How to enhance your scenes by visualizing them. Some exercises to develop visualization techniques. Suspending your own disbelief.
41. HUM A FEW BARS-AND FAKE IT
Shortcuts to time-consuming research. Faking locations. Feigning expertise. How not to overdo it. The importance of details.
42. CHARACTER BUILDING
Creating plausible, sympathetic, and original characters. Character vs. character tags. Drawing upon one's own self. Matthew Scudder?a case study in characterization.
43. CASTING
Creating memorable minor characters and bit players. Highlighting character vs. caricature. Casting as an aid to plot development.
44. NAME CALLING
How to pick apt and memorable names for your characters. Avoiding confusion. Keeping a notebook. Watching out for cuteness. Shortcuts in research.
45. REPEAT PERFORMANCES AND RETURN ENGAGEMENTS
Special problems in creating and developing a series character. Writing a series one book at a time. How to keep from going stale. Letting a character grow and evolve.
46. WE CAN ALWAYS CHANGE THE TITLE
What makes a good title? Coming up with memorable titles. Titles that fit their stories. Using your imagination. How titles get changed.
PART FIVE ISN'T THAT THE TRUTH: Fiction as a Spiritual Exercise
47. A WRITER'S PRAYER
INTRODUCTION
by Sue Grafton
SO HERE'S how this went. I was struggling with the storyline for K is for Killer, which had just about wrestled me to a standstill. I knew it was time to launch into the first chapter, but my psyche was reacting. I'd spent the day half-sick, staggering from my bed to the word processor and back. Nothing seemed to work. I knew the illness was stress-induced, but the symptoms were sufficient to muddy my thinking. I tried an opening or two, but I couldn't hit a vein. Naturally, I did what any sensible writer in my position would do. I went out to the mailbox. There, among the fascinating personal messages addressed to OR CURRENT RESIDENT, was a letter from Lawrence Block indicating that Morrow would be publishing a new edition of Telling Lies for Fun and Profit and asking if I'd contribute the introduction. Thrilled at so legitimate a reason to avoid my work, I went back to my office and plucked my well-worn copy from the shelf. I began to leaf through the pages, purely with an eye to preparing this foreword. Soon, I was sprawled in a comfy chair reading every chapter in sequence. Midway, I sat up, amazed to find that in the chapter called Opening Remarks, Lawrence Block had written about the very frustration I was experiencing with K. Furthermore, his advice about openings was right on the money. I set the book aside and went back to my word processor, looking at my problem with renewed interest and a tiny flicker of hope. I began to pick my way through the rubble, and suddenly I found myself in business again.
I knew Lawrence Block's work long before I knew the man. For many years before our first meeting, I'd been intrigued not only by his fiction, but by his advice about writing. In the early years of the Kinsey Millhone series, I made a point of reading Telling Lies for Fun and Profit before beginning each new book. I still find it essential to my peace of mind. Telling Lies for Fun and Profit is the equivalent of a house call from the family doctor. Whatever my condition, whatever the nature of my creative symptoms that day, I know I can count on a sympathetic ear and an effective remedy. Whether he's talking about plot, character motivation, point of view, or revisions, his suggestions are practical and his guidance is dependable.
I remember asking him once how he could be so generous. Every theory about writing, every trick he'd discovered, he was willing to share. Wasn't he worried about revealing trade secrets? Wasn't his advice to other writers the same as aiding and abetting his professional competition? He seemed amused by the question. So what if someone else does well? That doesn't affect me or my work. He felt that writing about his own experiences forced him to crystallize his thoughts and allowed him new insights that were invaluable to him.
In rereading Telling Lies for Fun and Profit, I've been startled to realize how many of the tenets I'd thought were my private revelations really came from him: his advice about writing to please yourself, about putting writing first; his counsel about page-count quotas as a way of fulfilling the work commitment from day to day. For years now I've been happily passing these off as my personal epiphanies, and perhaps
