The Green-Eyed Monster: A Writer Roundtable

We've all seen the meme. It's the standard visual for jealousy now, it seems. A man and a woman are walking and the guy looks back at another woman, an action that causes the woman he's with to cast them both a sidelong glance (or glare). But what about jealousy in regard to our writing careers. Or maybe it's just plain envy. I wanted to know, so I asked a few folks who have been in that life of words for a while what they thought. 

Do you get jealous of the success of other writers you know? How do you deal with that? How do you avoid the comparison trap? 

Elizabeth Donald: Another writer’s success does not diminish my success, my accomplishments, or my potential for either. There isn’t a finite quantity of success to go around; it’s not pie. When my writer friends have a great new contract, a stellar review, major sales, etc. I am happy for them. I know they have worked very hard to get where they are, as I do, and I have faith that one day my hard work will be rewarded as theirs was. I find it distasteful when I see a writer complaining about someone else’s success, or that they don’t understand why it hasn’t happened for them yet. Is it so hard to simply be happy for someone else’s good fortune?

I remember something Frank Fradella said once when we were holding a Literary Underworld panel: that when many authors support each other and provide an artistic community for each other, the work is inevitably better. I am mangling what he said, but he brought up the Lost Generation of writers like Hemingway and Fitzgerald bashing around Paris together in the 1920s. And he wasn’t arguing that we were all incipient Hemingways and Fitzgeralds, but more that their natural talent was enhanced by being in community with others. (Not that Hemingway is a great example of lack of competitiveness, be that as it may.) It’s one of the reasons the Literary Underworld exists; to help authors support each other and help each other succeed. Jealousy, competitiveness, resentfulness… None of these things make any sense to me. They’re counterproductive to the goals of art, and they eat away at the soul.

Ef Deal: Another writer's success means people are still reading and books are still important. I feel confident there will be readers for what I write, and I say huzzah to all.

Just one thing more: I set a modest goal for myself when I was very young (9) that I would publish in Fantasy & Science Fiction and I would publish a novel. I've done both, and I'm still writing and publishing short stories and I have at least a few more novels to put out there, so I don't feel any reason to be jealous of someone else. Would I like to be #1 on some list? Sure. Would I like to win some obscure or famous award? Absolutely. Will it change anything about my writing? Not likely.

Susan H. Roddey: For me, it's not "jealousy" so much as a feeling of inadequacy. It's Imposter Syndrome, and thanks to being a card-carrying member of the Gifted Kid Burnout clique, I'm exceedingly hard on myself for reasons that have nothing at all to do with other people. Even when I do experience success, I'm always looking for the storm cloud to block the silver lining. Success for others, though... I'm 100 percent here for it and will be the biggest cheerleader anyone has seen. I WANT my friends and colleagues to do well.

Relevant aside: This weekend Misty Massey won an award that we were both nominated for, and I am so ridiculously happy for her that I could burst. Am I disappointed that I didn't win? Eh, kinda. Or I was for a whole quarter of a second. I know she absolutely deserved to win though, and we still have cause to celebrate.

Bobby Nash: Another writer's success doesn't make me jealous. I'm thrilled to see others succeed.

HC Playa: Generally I am inspired by other's success....even when that success doesn't particularly seem warranted. Say a work isn't really that good. We can all point to well known titles that hit it big and got movies, etc, but they are at best mediocre, sometimes downright trash. It can be easy to play the 'why not me' game, but rather than fall into that trap, it's better to say "Well, if they found success, so can I. I simply have to keep writing."

For the vast majority of writers, it's a long game; intermittent success amid many rejections. I focus not on comparing myself to other writers, because that too is an easy trap to fall into and self-sabotage, but on the fact that the feedback I have gotten from my stories is overwhelmingly positive. People enjoy the stories. No, I haven't hit it big, but I am doing my job well--I am writing stories that others enjoy. All the rest is luck.

Alan J. Porter: Jealousy doesn’t really enter the equation. I’m always happy to see others succeed - especially if it’s someone I know. And seeing other writers succeed is always an inspiration to keep pushing on. 

An editor told me early on not to make comparisons as no one else can write the books/stories I write the way I write them. - One of the best pieces of advice I’ve had.

H. David Blalock: As print books become scarcer, magazines go online, and AIs become authors, it's hard to be jealous of anything coming out today. I'm just grateful there are a few human beings left actually writing and not depending on AI or ghostwriters to flesh out their ideas. Kudos to the actual creators. More power to them.

John Linwood Grant: I go down into the cellar again, and trawl through my collection of other writers' hair, toenail clippings, and general bodily detritus - until I find the right bits for my next set of clever little clay dollies. 🙂

Sean Taylor: For me, it gets down to what I see as the difference between envy and jealousy. Jealousy for me is when I want someone else's stuff and I don't want them to have it. Envy is when I want to achieve the same kind of things. For example, when I was writing for Gene Simmons for IDW, I tried and tried to parlay that into a new gig for when that one was over. But it didn't happen. I got a few invites to pitch for everything from Jem and the Holograms to Transformers, but either the line was going to an author that fit the demographic better and was more well known, or the whole license was moving to another publisher. So, when I failed, and then I saw folks I had worked with before move into major gigs like TMNT, Ghostbusters, Godzilla, and New Warriors, I got frustrated. Sure, I was envious and I wanted to understand why and how they could translate one gig into something bigger and I hadn't been able to. But in the end, it pushed me to keep trying, sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding. And yes, I was incredibly happy for those friends to succeed at bigger gigs, but I could be happy for them and a little envious too, couldn't I?

Krystal Rollins: I'm not jealous of others' success. I applaud them. Just makes me work harder.

Josh Nealis: I always say there's good jealousy and bad jealousy. Bad jealousy is obviously being mad that somebody else is succeeding where you have not. Good jealousy is the same thing except for you understand that it's likely they deserve what they've received, and you be happy for them, but you turn that jealousy into motivation and push yourself harder.

Brian K Morris: It's been a long time since I compared my skills or success (or lack thereof) to any other writer's. It's just not a productive use of my time or energy.

When my friends succeed, I find it a cause to celebrate. Their accomplishments make me work harder so when they move up, I still can justify my presence at the table with them.

James Tuck: I love seeing writers I know succeed at this weird wonky gig we all chose. I hope every one of them kicks ass!

H. David Blalock: My Hand Is in Everything

H. David Blalock has been writing speculative fiction for nearly 50 years. His work has appeared in novels, novellas, stories, articles, anthologies, reviews, and commentary both in print and online. Since 1996, his fiction has appeared in over two dozen magazines. He is currently the lead editor of parABnormal Magazine from Hiraeth Publishing. His work continues to appear on a regular basis through multiple publishing houses.

Tell us a bit about your latest work.

I was just honored to have a story of mine titled “Green Leaf” published by Dingbat Press in the anthology Standing Fast, the latest of William Alan Webb's The Last Brigade series of books. It's an account of a fictional invasion of the Republic of Panama by the Chinese. I lived in Panama for seven years, so this story ran very close to what I expect might really happen, and not that long from now, with or without the collapse on which the rest of Webb's series is based.

What happened in your life that prompted you to become a writer? 

It's hard to say. I've been writing since I was little and always wanted to share my work with others. I have always liked stories – hearing them, telling them, and watching them on television and the big screen.

What inspires you to write? 

You mean, where do I get my ideas? That's a novel way of asking. Observing people, mostly, although I do like the typical asking “what if?” 

What are the themes and subjects you tend to revisit in your work? 

I like to explore different ideas in different ways. My hand is in everything from detective fiction (my Velvet Wasp novellas) to high fantasy (my Thran Chronicles), science fiction and horror (my Angelkiller books and dozens of shorts stories). You might say I revisit whatever my muse seems to find interesting at the time.

What would be your dream project? 

Don't have one, really. I've been writing for 50 years and been there, done that. My favorite of my short stories was “To Our Brothers.” written when our kids grew up and left us with an empty nest. My favorite of my novels was the Angelkiller series, a summation of what I expect I would have seen had my own life and the world gone just a tad differently.

What writers have influenced your style and technique? 

Heinlein, of course, since I first read Red Planet at the age of 12. Lovecraft and his cosmic horror captured my imagination, pushing me toward more psychological horror writing than the visceral horror so popular today. Bradbury's Martian Chronicles made me learn how to see things from a different perspective. A.E. Van Vogt, Jack Vance, Edmund Hamilton, Clifford Simak, Damon Knight, Phillip K. Dick – they all had an influence, and I have worked hard to live up to the master standard they defined.

If you have any former project to do over to make it better, which one would it be, and what would you do? 

Not really. What mistakes I made were honest and improving on an honest mistake is dishonest at best, a new mistake at worst. 

Where would you rank writing on the "Is it an art or it is a science continuum?" Why? 

There is art and science to writing. As a writer, I partake in the art. As an editor, I use science. Writing is mostly intuition and imagination. Editing is mostly critical thinking and marketing. A professional writer eyes both when crafting.

What is the most difficult part of your artistic process? 

Getting started and getting finished. And the part there in the middle. Art is hard. Hard on the artist, hard on the editor. There's nothing automatic about it.

How do your writer friends help you become a better writer? Or do they not? 

When we were running the Imagicopter project a few years ago, it was wonderful being able to be around other writers, share in their successes and failures. Talking about writing is cathartic and heart-breaking at the same time, but the process does help you better understand your own ability.

What does literary success look like to you? 

Finishing a piece and being able to say it feels finished. Some people, I guess a lot of people, think literary success hinges on publication and I can understand that. 

Any other upcoming projects you would like to plug? 

Some editing projects and the odd short story or two, but nothing I can talk about right now. Contracts and stuff.

For more information, visit: 

http://www.thrankeep.com

BEWARE THE STING OF ‘THE VELVET WASP’!NEW PULP HEROINE’S STORY COLLECTION DEBUTS

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Noted author H. David Blalock enters the world of New Pulp and masked heroes with THE VELVET WASP, a brand new collection of short stories featuring his own original Pulp Heroine!

A nightclub entertainer named Adele Fornost has been found dead, an apparent suicide. Her friend, another entertainer named Diane Green, is convinced that she was murdered and that the Outlander Mob is behind it. Known for racketeering, prostitution, and money laundering, the Outlanders are run by a man known only as Sir. Diane is unable to convince the police to take on the case and decides to take matters into her own hands. Although she is able to get the goods on the Outlanders, she has to fake her own death to do it. Thus, Diane Green dies, but the Velvet Wasp is born to take flight in four adventures, courtesy of H. David Blalock and Pro Se Productions.

With a captivating cover and logo design by Jeffrey Hayes and print formatting by Marzia Marina and Antonino Lo Iacono, THE VELVET WASP is available now at Amazon and Pro Se’s own store for 14.99.

This action packed collection is also available as an Ebook, designed and formatted by Lo Iacono and Marina for only $2.99 for the Kindle.  This book is also available on Kindle Unlimited, which means Kindle Unlimited Members can read for free.

For more information on this title, interviews with the author, or digital copies to review this book, contact Pro Se Productions’ Director of Corporate Operations, Kristi King-Morgan at directorofcorporateoperations@prose-press.com.

To learn more about Pro Se Productions, go to www.prose-press.com. Like Pro Se on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ProSeProductions.

Do Your Read & Write Faves Connect?

This week's roundtable is a short, and hopefully simple one, the answers to which have been nagging at my brain for some time.
What is your favorite genre to read? To write? If they're not the same, why is that?

Robert Krog: My favorite genre to read is sometimes history/archaeology, and sometimes fantasy and sometimes, well, you get the picture.  When I look at my bookshelves, I see that I own about an equal amount of history as I do fiction of whatever genre.  These days, I probably read slightly more fantasy than anything else, but I've probably read more history, over all.  I don't have a favorite genre, though.  I move as easily through one as through another, with the exception of romance and erotica, which I do not enjoy, though I have nothing against a love story. 

When I sit down to write a story, it is usually fantasy that jumps out from my fingers first, so that may be a subconscious admission that I like to write fantasy more than anything else.  I certainly fall into that mode most readily. Still, the story that came to me fastest and was written most cleanly in the shortest amount of time was a piece of science fiction.  Furthermore, I limit myself to no genre and have written the gamut from literary fiction to steampunk. 

Why do I think of fantasy first?  Fantasy was what I read most when I was young, and that seems to have formed me.  Also, I spent many hours each week running around outside pretending with my siblings and friends that we were knights and wizards, elves and dwarves and such.  That is probably why.  There is also the fact that fantasy, as much as or more than, any other genre, allows the writer and reader to explore themes that they might not otherwise explore.  The distance fantasy affords is of inestimable worth. We can, through fantasy, symbolically explore questions. The exercise of imagination that fantasy affords is equally useful.  And fantasy is a natural extension of the sorts of stories told in every culture from the dawn of history on.  What is mythology but an attempt to understand the world through fantastic storytelling?  Then, too, fantasy touches us to the heart just as much any other type of well-written literature, engages our sense of wonder, and provides the reader with entertainment that can be edifying or merely escapist.

Ralph Angelo, Jr.: For me, the genre's are essentially the same. action packed Sci-Fi/ Epic fantasy. The same stuff I like to read I like to write. I usually get inspired by what I read at times and new ideas start to flow. My favorite stories to write occur out of the real world. They are in deep space or worlds filled with powerful beings be they magical or scientific in origin.

Kristofer Upjohn: I like writing horror, both non-fiction about horror and fiction. "horror" is a broad term here since some of my fiction isn't strictly horror based on content but rather in terms of darkness or bleakness. I also write stream-of-consciousness slash surrealist stuff. I like to read fantasy, comic books, noir/crime, a little horror (mostly Anne Rice and Brian Lumley) and some sci-fi. I've often pondered why I write one thing and read another and have yet to arrive at a satisfactory answer. Reading and writing are two different activities and I guess what pleases me to read is different from what I find fun to write (and what I'm good at writing).

Marian Allen: NOT simple! ~sigh~ If I HAD to choose ONE genre to read to the exclusion of all others, I suppose it would have to be fantasy, if fantasy could be sufficiently broad to cover magic realism, literary fantasy, urban fantasy, and science fantasy as well as the more traditional forms. And that would be the genre I would choose to write, too, given a broad enough interpretation of the term.

Armand Rosamilia: I write a few different genres but mostly horror and zombie fiction, although I have dabbled in contemporary fiction, thrillers, erotica, and even romance under a pen name... but I usually only read nonfiction books. I love biographies and memoirs. I can't remember the last time I read a horror book, and it has to do with me not wanting to inadvertently bleeding in other author's ideas into my stories, I guess...

Richard Lee Byers: My answer to both "What do you like to read?" and "What do you like to write?" is that it varies according to my mood. Lately, I've been reading a lot of Lovecraftian horror and writing it as well. I will say that although I've written and likely will continue to write more swords-wizards-and-castles fantasy than anything else and love the sub-genre, I don't read nearly as much of that as I used to. I think that's partly because I'm so familiar with the beats and tropes that it's hard to surprise me and partly because if I'm writing a particular type of fiction, reading it in my leisure time isn't always pleasurable. I want something different. My final thought is that I may have reached the point where I don't look for particular genres so much as particular authors. If, for example, Joe R. Lansdale writes something, it doesn't matter if it's horror, crime, or whatever. I'm interested.

Andrea Judy: I love writing action adventure dark types of stories. While I also love reading horror and action adventure, I really enjoy reading romance. I love these because the happily ever after is soothing, the stories are fun, and it gives me an uplifted feeling after I've read them.

Lee Houston Jr.: I mainly read science fiction, fantasy (and despite the commercial applications, these are two separate genres), mysteries, and superheroes. I have written short stories in all four genres, but as far as books are concerned, I've combined science fiction and mysteries to create Hugh Monn, Private Detective and the Alpha series is my contribution to superhero novels. For whatever reason(s), I've yet to write a fantasy novel, or do something in science fiction or mysteries independent of the other genre book wise.

H. David Blalock: Speculative fiction. Both.

Selah Janel: My favorite genre to write is probably cross-genre, because I have a terrible time choosing just one, and I feel like a lot of elements in different genres line up well and play off each other in interesting ways. I also feel that, for me, the genre I write in depends on the actual story idea, and often times a fusion, if done well, is the best course of action for me. I love dark fantasy, love horror elements, but I couldn't give up folklore or fairy tale elements, and a lot of my leanings are firmly rooted in fantasy. I have a healthy respect of literary fiction and try to bring at least some of that to the table, and I don't mind romantic elements...So I guess my favorite genre to write is: yes.

I actually read more nonfiction than I do fiction, depending on the day. I love learning, and I like gleaning things that may help my own writing. That being said, in genre fiction I tend to read a lot of dark fantasy and a lot of comics and manga, but I also delve into cozy mysteries and chick lit/romance, too - it actually depends on the time of year: I have a definite dark mode and a definite fluffy mode. I think authors need to read everything - or if not everything, they absolutely cannot only read the genre(s) they write in. That may keep the focus on your genre(s), but it also really keeps a small circle of things you could be influenced by. Because I tend to embrace everything when I write, I suppose I have no trouble embracing everything when I read.

Stephanie Osborn: I have several fave genres: SF, fantasy, mystery, science. And those are pretty much what I also write.

Something to Say -- Writers on Theme

You can't tell any kind of a story without having some kind of a theme, something to say between the lines. -- Robert Wise

Obviously we're talking about theme this week. So let's get to it.

Looking over your body of work, does a cohesive theme seem to be present in it? If so what is it?

Stephanie Osborn: I don't know that there is a cohesive theme in my work. I don't set out to put a message in, but to write a good story. There are some books/series that do have loose overarching themes, but in general I guess my thought is that "There is always more going on than meets the eye," or, said a different way, "Things always work out the way they're supposed to."

Rebekah McAuliffe: As I've been looking back at Gears, and even now while I'm writing ALPHA, there's always been this theme of acceptance and sticking up for "the least of these," no matter the cost. This issue is very close to my heart, not only as a woman of faith ("Whatsoever you do for the least of these, you do for me"), but as someone who has witnessed poverty, and the hardships that many people go through, and the crap that they get from other groups of people.

Logan Masterson: I consider theme to be pretty damned important, and I pay it a lot of mind. Sometimes, when I begin a new story, I'm not sure quite what the theme will be. More often, it makes itself known early on in the process. My favorite themes are all very human. Justice, freedom, love, despair. And I do tend toward the darker side of things.

Percival Constantine: I don't think there's really a cohesive theme in my entire body of work. Redemption seems to occur a bit, though. So does escaping the past.

Bill Craig: Sometimes the stories determine the theme, sometimes the theme emerges with the writing of the story.

H. David Blalock: My last series (The Angelkiller Triad) appears to have been the most blatant example, although I can now see it through much of my past work as well. I have to admit, then, there is a great deal of truth in the adage that a writer puts him or herself in their work, whether by attitude or inference. I would like to think that stubbornness and courage my characters show in the face of adversity is a reflection of my own worldview even if I would doubt my own courage in their circumstances.

Rose Streif: The most obvious theme is that of being an outsider, often in a hostile world.  The outsider status is often bestowed by birth or by fate, and it is up to that character (or those characters) to survive when their very existence unnerves or even causes a violent reaction in those around them. It is also up to them to (somewhat paraphrasing Nietzsche) not become monsters themselves, however monstrous they may feel, or however monstrous the world perceives them to be.

Desmond Reddick: There are a few that crop up. Coping with legacy is a big one, and so is kicking against the pricks, usually apocalyptic circumstances in that aspect. 

Do you write with a theme in mind, or do you just have a worldview that writes itself into your work through you? Or do work hard to keep anything that "meta" out of your work? How so?

Stephanie Osborn: I'm a licensed Christian minister, so I do have a worldview that I try to ensure that the good guys don't violate, or at least realize as a mistake when they do. Bad guys by definition are gonna violate that, and I'm not going to pull punches in my writing to soft-pedal that. Drama is all about conflict, and the conflict between good and evil is about is dramatic as it gets. But the story always comes first.

Of all the books, I think my Displaced Detective series comes closest to "writing with a theme in mind," but that theme is one of parallelism. The books come from the concept of multiple universes, and if I am actively writing about these alternate realities, as I did in the first 4 books in the series, I keep in mind that concept of parallelism -- as for instance Skye Chadwick is her universe's Sherlock Holmes, etc.

Rebekah McAuliffe: Sometimes I may start with a theme, but then as I write the story, the theme will shift on its own. For instance, Gears of Golgotha was originally meant to be a commentary on the science vs. religion debate (get it? science (Chemists) and religion (Mages?)). That was even where the name came from: Gears for science, Golgotha for religion. But then as I kept writing, it evolved into something greater.

Logan Masterson: Themes can become too heavy, but I find that focusing on the characters and plot when actually laying down the words keeps me from getting preachy. I hope that's true, anyway.

Percival Constantine: I don't write with a theme in mind. I focus on the characters and the story and through that, a theme will kind of develop by the time I'm done with the first draft.

Bill Craig: I deal with certain themes in different series because I seem them as real world problems that need to be kept in front of the public eye, human trafficking being one. I dealt with it in the Jack Riley title the Child Stealers, dealt with it again in Decker P.I. A cold and Lonely Death, And in Marlow: Mango Run, and touched on it slightly in Chandler: Circle City Shakedown.
     
H. David Blalock: Looking back at my work over the years, there does seem to be something of a theme. I would call it "Resist the inevitable". Refuse to give in, no matter the odds. Stand up for yourself and others even when it seems futile. I can't say I've used this theme deliberately. It does seem, however, to be the driving force.

Rose Streif: I do write with themes in the back of my mind, and inevitably my worldview and interests are going to color what I write.  I try to blend them in as seamlessly as possible, and I try to be understanding when people just don't "get it".  Sometimes subtlety works against you, and you always run the risk of running into that person who is so wrapped up in their own worldview that they can't possibly see yours, even when they think they do.

John Morgan Neal: I don't have a conscious theme. Mostly my stuff is born from the stuff 12-year-old John Neal really liked and wanted to see more of. 

Desmond Reddick: No, absolutely not. The themes are common, but they spring up on their own. 

When writing, have you ever had so strong a sense of theme occur in the work that you felt it overpowered the story? How did you remedy that?

Stephanie Osborn: No, never have had that happen. Like I said, the Displaced Detective series has the strongest ongoing theme of any of my books, and I think the parallelism theme only makes the whole thing stronger, personally. I think that you have to be so involved with theme that you become fixated on it, for it to become overpowering of the story. And if that's the case, you need to back off and lay down the theme and gain some fresh perspective before you try to write on it again.

Rebekah McAuliffe: The original ending to Gears. I'll admit, that first ending was complete s**t. I edited it, and the new rereleased version will have the new and improved ending.

Logan L. Masterson: As an author of genre fiction, I never want theme to be the focus of the readers' experience. I want them wrapped up in thrilling events and captivating people. A good theme is like air, ephemeral and ubiquitous.

Percival Constantine: Yeah, but it wasn't when I was writing the story, it was after I had finished it. Years after, in fact, I felt that I was far too heavy-handed with the theme of my first book. After that, I decided I'd focus more on the story and the characters and worry less about the theme in future works.

Rose Streif: I maintain an awareness at all times, and I try not to let the theme take over the story, to preach and pander, because that yanks the reader out of the flow of things and puts them at the mercy of a person on a soapbox.  We get enough of that in real life.  In any case, if you want to get a point across, it's best to put the reader in the shoes of a sympathetic character and show them by example what it is to live that character's life.

Desmond Reddick: That's interesting. No. But I'm not sure how I would resolve that situation. If I felt it was getting "preachy" (ie: a lesson versus a theme) I'd have to change it.

Anti-Heroes: Why?

For this next roundtable, we're going to talk about anti-heroes. Stuck somewhere on the gray part of the number line between good guys and bad guys, they're all but taken over the world of fiction, from books to movies to comics. 

What makes anti-heroes so popular? Is it something cultural or just readers getting tired of black and white good guys and bad guys?

Marian Allen: Anti-heroes are (IMO) the lazy person's hero. They have few limits and few scruples, they're no better than the bad guys; they're just OUR asshats, not THOSE FOLKS' asshats. You don't have to feel inferior to an antihero or worry that their self-imposed standards will put them at a disadvantage. They're certainly more realistic than the White Hats of 50's children's television, say.

H. David Blalock: I believe anti-heroes seem to have become popular about the same time as the counter-cultural revolution of the 1960s. I think they were the media reflecting that for the baby boomer generation which was becoming the largest marketable demographic. Using the noir detective as a base (Spade, Marlowe, etc) they combined the atmosphere of the "new age" image of mysticism and magic to darken the hero, throw him closer to the center of the spectrum. In my opinion, the anti-hero was created to give voice to an audience more involved with the outside world, less isolated politically and socially, more attuned to the nastiness that is real life and unwilling -- or unable -- to separate their entertainment from that immersion.

Terri Smiles: The truly good guys are challenging for most people because a truly "good" guy calls out our own failings to be that kind of person. Anti-heroes, on the other hand, show the function of those who are often more flawed than we are ourselves, often resulting in some societal good, even if that was not the character's motivation or goal. Thus, we are comforted by anti-heroes being like us - and in particular, being redeemable in at least a limited way.

Peter Welmerink: Anti-hero characters are popular because they are most like you and me. They are not the hero standing atop the building, fists at hips, chest thrust out, hero and master of all their domain. Anti-heroes are not the villain below the city streets, rolling their eager hands over and over and snickering mischievously. Anti-heroes are the you and me peeps, standing on the sidewalk between both, trying to determine up or down.

Katina French: I think part of the popularity of antiheroes right now is the cathartic aspect of a protagonist who doesn't hold back in exacting vengeance or justice. While it's tempting to think of them as a new invention, prior to the Comics Code Authority and other censorship movements in the early 20th century, pulp heroes were much darker. The current trend feels like a rebalancing away from the forced naivete of some earlier generations.

Who are some of the contemporary characters who best define the concept of anti-hero from prose fiction?

H. David Blalock: Currently, nearly every "hero" in fiction can be defined as an anti-hero because they all have serious flaws (Sherlock Holmes, Harry Dresden, etc). Some are even blatantly villains (e.g. Dexter Morgan, Walter White, etc). It's increasingly difficult to separate the good guys from the bad because they are increasingly becoming one and the same -- a statement on a society that has learned the ugly lesson to "trust no one".

Terri Smiles: Examples of current anti-heroes are Elphaba from Wicked, Artemis Fowl from that series.

Logan Masterson: The King of Antiheroes is Thomas Covenant. What makes him so effective? The first thing is the scope of his responsibility. The second thing is that he's a very real person. He's a bitter, furious, damaged human being. Combining those elements makes for an amazing character arc. There are similarities with Londo Mollari.

Marian Allen: The hard-boiled PI is the classic anti-hero. Sword-and-sorcery heroes. Steampunk/cyberpunk rebels against a corrupt establishment. Gillian Phillips' fairy rebels.

Katina French: Scott Lynch's Locke Lamora is a very good example of the type in current prose fiction. Patrick Weekes' Isafesira de Lochenville in his Rogues of the Republic series is also a good example (who isn't a white male). "Lovable rogues" are a more lighthearted example of an antihero. In that sense, we've had them since Robin Hood.

What advice do you have for writers looking to create memorable anti-heroes for their fiction?

Peter Welmerink: My advice to writers looking to create memorable anti-heroes for their fiction is MAKE THEM HUMAN, well, give them normal traits, the good, the bad and the ugly, tragedies and triumphs...you know, that normal folk have. Then throw them into a unique situation that really tests their morality, pushes them to perhaps make bad decisions that bring them down low to an almost villainous level where they need to do something to bring themselves back up to their normal playing field or slightly above to be the hero in the end.

Katina French: Brandon Sanderson offered up the idea of "the character sliding scale" in an episode of Writing Excuses. It suggested that your protagonist has three characteristics -- competence, proactivity, and sympathy. You can lower one of these (in the case of an antihero, probably sympathy) and raise the others, and readers will still invest in your character.

Terri Smiles: They need to be driven by motives that are not "good" ones even if their acts are good (think the BBC's Sherlock Holmes - he's not solving crimes to protect the public), but the anti-heroes that I prefer, experience a hidden pleasure when their actions help others.

H. David Blalock: The best way to create a memorable hero for today's audience is to figure out what the hero must do to save the day then make it impossible for him to do it without compromising himself in some way. That, more than anything else, is what people seem to want: a way to pull down the hero to a human level. People are afraid of the absolute values of Captain America because they no longer see life as positive and negative. They want Don Draper because they see their lives as convoluted and difficult as his.

Marian Allen: Make a clear and important difference between your anti-hero and the bad guys. If your anti-hero is no better than the villain, I have nothing to invest in him or her.

The Language Barrier -- Tolkien Did It, So It's Okay, Right?

There's a well established literary history of writers making up words and creating new ways of communicating verbally, from the poetry of e.e. cummings and the plays of Shakespeare to the fantasy and sci-fi of classic and contemporary authors. But why and how?

Why create a new language for your story? What's wrong with the existing ones?

H. David Blalock: Precedent. The most successful fantasy stories have all contained "new languages." Tolkien intended to show how a totally new language could be built into a world with its own identity. Before him, men like Lovecraft, Ashton Smith, even Howard had already looked for ways to get around calling their otherworldly heroes and villains something more exotic than "Dave" and "Steve."

Percival Constantine: I personally don't see it as being necessary. When I read Fellowship, I skipped over most of the parts in Elvish (and the songs, and the overly verbose passages—I was not a fan). As a writer, I know I'm going to have to provide a translation for those passages anyway, so I just don't see much of the point. I know there are those who feel it adds some additional flavor to the story, but I'm not one of them.

What are the pitfalls of creating a made-up language for the world of your story?

Percival Constantine: I've done a bit (emphasis on "a bit") of linguistic studying and I think I know enough to say this: if you don't know what you're doing, don't create a whole language. Tolkien was not only proficient in a number of languages but also a professor of linguistics and definitely knew his stuff. Dropping in the occasional word here and there for flavor is one thing, but creating an entire language is something completely different.

H. David Blalock: Invariably, fantastic names will run into pronunciation problems. The readability of the story is often crippled when the main character's name is hobbled with a lack or plethora of vowels, too many hyphens or apostrophes, or is just plain incomprehensible. Likewise for the language. The readers should be able to pronounce the words in their heads even if they get tongue-tied trying them out loud.

How do you go about the process of inventing new words and new ways of speaking? Do you build from existing language or start from scratch?

Jeremy Hicks: I find that it is much easier to adapt an existing language that is not heard commonly. Or seen in most forms of media. Anthropologists and linguists have been assembling extensive dictionaries and translations on most remote, dying, or dead languages, so you might as well put them to use for flavor. But do it systemically and judiciously. And like Perry said, preferably sparingly.

H. David Blalock: I try to use a language already in use as a basis. Not being a philologist, I don't have the expertise or the inclination to go through the agony Tolkien must have endured. My favorites to use are Norse, German, and Chinese. They can be twisted into some wonderfully bizarre, mind-bending names and terms.

Percival Constantine: I personally don't. I'll sometimes have a character who speaks in a manner that's strange (such as Liran in SoulQuest), but for the most part, I think you're better off focusing on the character development first.

NOTE: Here's a particularly helpful guide online to creating your own fictional language.

Your Character is Your Contract with the Reader

We've talked quite a bit here on the blog about building and developing great characters in our stories, but we've not quite sliced it this way before. So, at the suggestion of one of our readers (and one of my writing mentors), this week let's talk about how we honor the contract we have with our readers in terms of our characters and how they interact with our stories. 

Characters are met in an instance but defined over time. As such, how do you remain true to your character as he or she or it (and you!) encounter the various twists and turns of a story?

Peter Welmerink: Character and plot need to weave about each other and grow together. Both need to develop simultaneously to maintain the readers curiosity, retention and draw to both. Having a great character in a stale plot line, or vice versa, will kill a story for me. You don't need both punching you in the face the whole time vying for your unwavering attention, but there needs to be that give-a-shit factor with both or I, like anyone else, will simply put down the book and move on to something else.

Lance Stahlberg: There's an interesting balancing act that goes on in telling a good story. Readers get invested in characters. Characters are what will drive your story and keep your readers coming back. Character is king. That said, focusing a story entirely on a character runs the risk of getting boring fast. They need to be involved in an interesting plot. Character-driven stories tend to come off as pretentious to me. So you ideally are going for a plot-driven story with a solid, memorable character to follow through events.

So here's the trick, which gets closer to answering your questions here: Characters have to be flexible. They must be solid enough to engage readers, but they have to be adaptable to those twists and turns you want to throw at them without screwing up your narrative. You stay true to them above all else by getting into their heads.

Mark Koch: Character comes first and foremost. They are the life to the setting and what makes a story something other than a beautiful photograph, whatever the medium.

Ellie Raine: My version of “remaining true” to a character is kind of hard to explain. I usually write in a first person perspective, so in regards to the narrating character, I sort of shift my personality during the writing. My way of thinking changes, my morals change (only for these sessions), and my history/childhood/upbringing changes. So in a sense, I’m not me when I’m writing. I’m that character. If something dramatic happens to them, the gears turning my brain are synced with theirs. Whatever their instant, knee jerk reaction to that situation is, that is what I feel "rings true” for them.

Though, for the characters surrounding the narrator (or those in 3rd person), I pretend that I’m observing my friends (or strangers I’ve encountered) during those dramatic events in the story. If my mind isn’t in the story, or if it is shoved out during the writing, then that’s a red-flag for me. If I’m thrust out of the story and am reminded that I’m writing it, that tells me the characters probably wouldn’t be reacting this way—and I try again with a different reaction.

Selah Janel: I think it’s important to remember where a character starts at, but to also allow room for growth. I’ve changed considerably over the years, so it’s unfair for me to think I can dictate everything blow by blow for a character. If something comes up that I initially didn’t plan on for that person, I’ve learned to embrace it because it’ll often make a story better.

Percival Constantine: Character is key. You have to know your character more intimately than you know your significant other, your parents, your children, etc.

Dave Creek: Depending upon the particular problem, you could go in the other direction -- take the story in a new direction based upon who your character has become. That might even lead you down a path you never would have thought of otherwise.

Logan Masterson: The world itself can often provide guidance, too. Especially with genre fiction, antagonists are free to provide all kinds of interference. Then there are geography, weather, and a bazillion other variables at our fingertips. Lastly, there are subplots. Not only do they round out characters, but they can guide them too. Subplots should intertwine with the main plot, and leading a character toward the goal is probably the best way to do that.

What do you do when you face that moment when you must chose between character and advancing the plot, when one seems to be a forced fit onto or into the other?

Ellie Raine: It depends on the plot points before this moment. If I write out those points on a whiteboard and see that I have too much characterization already, I will try to focus more on plot. If there is too much plot and not enough characterization, I will focus on character.

Percival Constantine: That's simple—you change your plot. This is why I keep my plot outlines somewhat free and loose, so I have freedom to change them if the character changes in ways that I didn't take into account when writing that plot.

Mark Koch: Well defined characters don't have to be so rigid in that definition as to be unbending. Hit something rigid hard enough and you will find that it will dent or crack. Those moments are some of the best moments in character development -- when we see that the characters have depth and more dimension than the sound bite voice over.

H. David Blalock: Okay, I'm going to just put this out there and say this is my opinion and you know what they say about opinions.

Story-telling has gone from simply telling a story to the tale having to be riddled with "relateable" people. Since the advent of soap-opera fiction, readers have changed in their expectations towards identification with the players. Readers want to inhabit the hero (or the villain, depending on the reader's character). However, character development is part of the plot. It shouldn't be a problem to have the character react differently than expected as long as the progressive growth of the character itself is plausible. 

Most every story relates a change in a character from one state to another, whether through conflict or epiphany. As such, all characters should act "out of character" at least once as an expression of that growth. The magnitude of that odd behavior should define the level of radical growth the character experiences. 

In other words, if a character must act "out of character" to forward the plot (and the writer doesn't want to completely abandon the storyline) then the character must adapt. Plot advancement trumps character action.

Marian Allen: If there's a conflict between what you need the character to do and what the character WOULD do as you've developed her, and you absolutely can't get some other character to do the thing or reshape the plot, then you need to sit down and pretend you're having a heart-to-heart with your character. "Why would you do this thing? It seems so unlike you." Eventually, you come up with a wrinkle in the character that makes the thing INEVITABLY what she would do. Then you make a note of it and go back and iron that wrinkle into the fabric of what came before.

Lance Stahlberg: There is a metaphysical aspect to writing. Instead of just being a puppeteer and making your creations do whatever you want, you have to give them life. You know that you need the plot to move from A to B and somehow get to C. But when your character is confronted with a situation where you need them to go one way, but they refuse because it would go against their nature, the character wins every time.

It's now your job to figure out how to get things back on track. There's a lot you can do to finagle events to move things where you want them to go, but not quite as much when it comes to characters, once they are established.

Selah Janel: I stop and think very carefully about why I’m trying to choose one over the other. For me, they go hand in hand…a character is either reacting to the plot in an authentic way, or the way they act move the plot forward. For me, personally, if I come to a point where I’m in crisis, it’s usually because I’m trying to force something to happen and it’s either not being translated right by the characters or it’s just the wrong thing to happen. On the flip side, I may think up new ideas mid-manuscript and stop to rehaul everything because it’s a better idea than what I’d initially planned. I have to be very honest with myself at times – am I writing something that’s best for the manuscript for that character, or am I going slightly AU because I’m amused and it’s what I want to read? Is there some way to combine the two to preserve what I like but still move things forward and stay true to the character?

A friend of mine once said that "making the character perform an action that runs contrary to his or her character just to move the plot forward is a betrayal of the trust of the reader." Agree or disagree? Why?

Frank Fradella: Witness The Mummy 2. In the first film, the entire plot is driven by the love of two people -- Imhotep and Anuck Su-Namun. Without that backbone, you have no story. By the time the second film comes around, they have both proven their love over and over again, even winning against death itself.

And yet at the end of The Mummy 2, when the stone temple is crashing down around them, Anuck Su-Namun gets scared and leaves Imhotep to die?

I call bullshit. The entire story hinged on that relationship, and they threw it away in an effort to make the "heroes" look better. THAT was a betrayal of the characters. I was very, VERY angry with them over that."

Logan Masterson: Characters can sometimes frustrate us, and never moreso than when they refuse to stick to the script. I, for one, am always looking at ways to subtly influence my players to keep them in line, but I'm pretty good at it. Characterization is just natural for me. I pay close attention to each major character's known and unknown motivations. I sometimes do mindmaps of these relationships. Then, I can use other characters to nudge a contrarian in the right direction.

Selah Janel: A little of both. I think yes, you have to be careful to not let your personal interest control the character in a way that the reader is going to find disheartening…..but at the end of the day you are the author. You’re the one with the pen. It’s your idea. I think it’s also slightly dangerous to be writing with the intent of giving people what they want, especially if that’s not true to your original (or slightly altered, even) vision. It’s just as dangerous to pander as it is to try to force a character to do something that isn’t necessarily in their wheelhouse, in my opinion. If the plot needs to move, it needs to move – that may mean stopping and taking extra time to rework the plot, it may mean taking time to rework a character or redefine what that character’s actions might be, but I also feel that worrying too much about what readers are going to think is something that will compromise the end product, as well.

Ellie Raine: Again, this depends. If there was a strong reason for the character to go against his usual behavior, then I’m more likely to accept it. But if there is no explanation, I will forever question why a character did something so unexpected and irrational (according to their established personality).

Mark Koch: If you have to force a character forward or into a situation or action contrary to their dictates as they are defined- be true to those dictates regardless. Have them react accordingly. Force them, by means of outside influences or fate, but then keep them honest by expressing anger, or outrage, or sadness, or irritation and defiance. At the very least, give a window to some guilt or shame afterwards depending upon what the plot requires.

If someone walked up to you or me and compelled either of us to do something we would not choose to do- we'd have a predictable reaction. If it was truly contrary, that reaction might even create an opportunity for a new plot point or story of its own. Revenge. Redemption. Regret.

Percival Constantine: Agree completely. This is why I think it's important to have flexibility in your plot. I was a huge fan of the TV show How I Met Your Mother, yet the series finale was one of the worst endings I'd ever seen in any medium. To the creators' credit, they had a fixed ending in mind, something that doesn't often happen in TV and especially not in sitcoms. But over the course of the show's nine-year run, the characters evolved and that original ending no longer made sense. Yet the creators still insisted on using it and the result was an incoherent mess that betrayed the trust of the viewers. 

Jay Wilburn: If the character doesn't fit the action and being forced into committing the action can't be explained by the circumstance or some change in the character, then the story outline is wrong. The course of events needs to be rethought to fit the world and characters you created. It may only be a small adjustment in the end. It might be a different journey than you expected to the same destination. It might be a different story than the one you originally thought you were writing. As you need to be ready to kill your characters, you also need to be ready to kill your original story outline when it has outlived its usefulness.

Lance Stahlberg: Wholeheartedly agree. A reader will notice characters acting out character faster than they will notice a supposed plot hole. They can be pretty forgiving of the latter if you keep the characters enjoyable.

At what point, if any, does the reader's need supercede that of the storyteller? Is there a time when it becomes more important to move plot forward "come hell or high water"?

Lance Stahlberg: Never. If you can't move your story forward in a way that keeps your characters consistent, then either your plot sucks, or your character sucks. Or maybe just the corner you wrote yourself into sucks. Both the plot outline and the characters have to be malleable enough to get through those rough patches.

I mean, there are ways to get away with a character being forced to act in a way they normally might not want to. Heat of the moment, stress under pressure, an impossible choice with no “right” answer, false perception at odds with what's actually happening. Or maybe a core trait of the character is that they are unpredictable. But there always has to be some way to reconcile what a character does with who they are. Always. At minimum, you have to acknowledge in the narration or inner dialogue that they acted oddly, which you could always explore later. But never ignore it.

Mark Koch: Storytelling gives your character lemons because the plot has to advance? Have them do something with them, be it make lemonade or curse the lemons and grind them under their heel.

Great characters don't appear to be directed in the story, they appear to be reacting to it as it unfolds. Give them choices that are true to who they are- even if they don't get choices in the outcome they can always choose their inward or outward reaction.

Dave Creek: You can take the character anywhere you want her to go as long as you motivate that action. It may take going backwards and putting in the motivator earlier in the story.

Ellie Raine: The only time I can justify sacrificing character development for plot is when a reader is half way (or sometimes near the end) of the book and still doesn’t know where the hell it’s going. I’ve read too many books that only cared about developing characters, and so went entire stories staying in the exact same place with little plot advancement. But on the other hand, I’ve read a few books where they didn’t give a damn about character development, and I ended up not caring about the characters at all.

Percival Constantine: Never. Characters can change and grow over time so they shouldn't be stagnant, but at the same time that change has to be visible. A character who was once a paragon of virtue and honesty in chapter one can't suddenly be a lying, back-stabbing bastard in chapter ten without any reason for that change. If you get to a point where you have to move the plot in a way that is contrary to your character, then you need to change the plot or go back and see where you went wrong with that character's development.

Selah Janel: I worry about moving plot forward on a schedule more with shorts or anthology calls than I do individual projects. That being said, I do think you have to keep a balance in pacing the plot and everything else. That being said, there’s no reason why they shouldn’t work together. Plot needs character and character needs plot. It really also comes down to show don’t tell –- this is where you need to figure out ways to showcase your characterizations as quickly or succinctly as possible to keep the story rolling while still being true to your cast.

Don't Suck. Okay, Well Can You Be More Specific?

As I mentioned here not so long ago, some awesome advice I got from a friend way back when was this: "Don't suck." That's all well and good, because I knew what Frank was saying to me when he said that.

But what does that advice mean to you? 

If a writing mentor were to tell you "don't suck," what would you understand that to mean?

Ralph L Angelo Jr: I'd have to think that means make sure you write something engaging and interesting. Something that presses all the right buttons with your audience, but also is true to yourself and not just a cookie cutter book or project. In other words, don't just go through the motions, but actually write something you would want to read and of course something you are proud to put your name on at the end.

Mark Koch: While producing something you are proud of, ensure that you consider how it will appear to the reader. Write only for yourself, and you will likely be the only one who appreciates your writing.

Mark Bousquet: To me, this means, "Don't be lazy." We all have those moments in a story when you know you need to do something you don't want to do because it's time consuming - maybe it's trying to find out the right handgun a Norwegian soldier should be using in World War 2, or going back through your story to provide infrastructure for a new subplot you introduced at the end of a draft. If you know something needs to be done, do it. Now or later is fine, but before publication.

Peter Welmerink: I believe if a writing mentor told me to DON'T SUCK, he'd be saying to make sure, when I am all done with letting my writing SUCK on that FIRST DRAFT, by simply writing without abandon or caring about if sentence structure, grammar, the rest, was all good and just GETTING THAT FIRST DRAFT DONE, by telling me to DON'T SUCK, he/she would be saying to go through that SECOND DRAFT with care and conscience and polish it to perfection.

Van Allen Plexico: Do your best work. Don't settle for less. Don't put something out for public consumption that reflects badly on you. Drink from the glass or cup; don't use a straw. You're a grown up.

Marian Allen: Be technically competent and respect your readers.

Violet Patterson: Tell an unforgettable story.


Ray Dean: In one of my writing communities a member complained that one of the first reviews she had on a self-published novel stated that she needed some editing for basic grammar and sentence structure. She lamented that she didn't have the money to pay someone to edit. We offered her ideas on how to get some help with editing or resources for her to help and edit her own work. Later that day she replied to the thread saying... "That's okay, I like my novel... my MOM likes my novel... haters gonna hate!" I'm not saying that her mother isn't able to identify good work when she sees it, but discounting that review as merely a hater probably isn't the best thing to do. We can always get better... learn more about plotting, grammar, characterization, etc. We can always improve and we should... to me "Don't Suck" means if you can make something better... do it. Don't get lazy.

Selah Janel: Don't write to a formula or what you think you should be writing about. Do what hasn't been done or try a different take on things. Don't write with the mindset to try to advance plan what the next new thing or big bestselling idea will be. Write what you know and be true to the writer you are. Definitely edit and pay attention to spelling, grammar, and formatting. If you're writing to a specific call or magazine, then write what the guidelines ask for. Stretch your wings and be original, but the editors definitely are asking for certain things for a reason. Keep going, keep reading, keep writing, keep pushing yourself to get better.

Lee Houston Jr.: "Don't Suck" to me means I make sure that everything I submit for publication is the best I can humanly create. The reader deserves no less.

Shelby Vick: It boils down to:  Don't cheat the reader. That applies to Western, SciFi, mysteries, etc.

Rebekah McAuliffe: Don't be afraid to bend the rules. Technique and methods should be important, but don't let them overshadow the actual writing of the story.

Tony Acree: Make sure you run spelling and grammar check at least once. Hmm. Twice. And never, ever, start your story with "It was a dark and stormy night."

Terri Smiles: Work at it, revise, revise revise, until it becomes what I intended. For me it was advice to blow deadlines if I needed to in order to create a product I was proud to have my name on.

H. David Blalock: Know your limitations, then push harder. Get outside your comfort zone and take the reader with you. Readers get bored with the same storyline over and over again. Show them something they, and you, have never seen before. Most importantly, don't leave them hanging.

TammyJo Eckhart: Don't be afraid to push the edges of what a genre should include or should be about. While you'll have a harder time selling your work, you'll be more satisfied with it and those readers and publishers who find you will appreciate that you aren't mundane.

The Butt End of the Book -- Ending a Story

Everybody always talks about story openings, but what about the opposite end of the work -- what about story endings? What makes those work? Let's talk about it.

Let's start with an easy one. Tell me your favorite story ending and why it works for you, why you find it memorable.

H. David Blalock: My favorite story ending? I don't think I have a single favorite. Endings do several things for a story. Tell a moral, provoke an emotion, teach a lesson, pull things together in the way most satisfying to the writer but not necessarily for the reader.

Herika Raymer: Choosing a favorite story ending is difficult. Though the one that came to mind when I read this was the ending of Travellor In Black by John Brunner. I always enjoy it when there is an unexpected twist. Not one out of the blue, but one suspected but cannot be proven/disproven until the end. There have been a lot of predictable endings, and those are naturally appropriate but sometimes a little "where did that come from" or "I knew it!" is refreshing.

James Layne: In "Once Upon A Time" tales the guy gets the girl and slays the dragon. In action stories the hero lives to fight another day, I assume bodice rippers end with something climactic, but the endings that I like best are those that either leave you wanting  for more, or when you read the last line and realize that the entire 268 previous pages were nothing but setup for a marvelous one liner such as in Zalazney's A Night In the Lonesome October - Jack and Jill ran down the hill  and Grey and I came after...

Ray Dean: How about I go opposite... the WORST ending ever... Stephen R Donaldson's Mirror of Her Dreams. 654 pages to find out that ... continued in part 2. Over a year and a half later when the second part came out I had to reread part 1 to get up to speed... it just wasn't the same. Where I had been on the edge of my seat to find out what's next... I was now... sigh.

Jason Henderson: When I thought about this question, several answers came to mind but a favorite would be the end of To Kill a Mockingbird. After all the excitement we get a short chapter that shows a gentle scene of the family - Jem, Scout and Atticus, as Atticus reads them a story and puts the children to bed. We get a lot right at the end -- a story-within-a-story with a moral that echoes the story of the whole novel, a gentle moment, and for the reader, a return to the world of our own - the characters literally go to sleep. I'm left entranced and feeling privileged to have spent time with the characters.

Lee Houston Jr.: My favorite story ending (to date) unfortunately has yet to be released, so I'm not sure I can talk about it in great detail right now. I will say that the short story is scheduled to be published by Airship 27, and that the twist ending has a very big surprise for even the most casual pulp (or movie) fan.

Cam Crowder: It's kind of a tossup to be honest. But, if I had to pick, I think I'd go with Caliban's Hour by Tad Williams. It was the first time as a kid that I read a book that left me actively guessing after the book was closed.

The whole premise of the book was Caliban finding the woman who betrayed him years prior and making her pay. But, after he tells her his story, the woman's daughter storms in and offers to leave with Caliban in order to spare her mother. Caliban says that he'll take care of the girl, but also openly says that he could be lying if he's truly the monster he's been called all these years. The most fascinating part about the ending was the way he leaves everything in the hands of the woman he'd been intending to kill for the whole book, telling her that, if she believes him, she'll wait until the candle in the room goes out before calling the guards.

It's an ending that still gives me chills to this day when I read the book.

I.A. Watson: There are three kinds of endings I find effective. The first is the "they all return home changed" end. Think of the last couple of chapters of Lord of the Rings, where four kick-ass Hobbits get back to the Shire, Frodo stomps Saruman, and we see how the adventure is going to shape everyone's lives thereafter.

Then there's the big-last-clash type of ending, which ties together everything that's come before. There are revelations, betrayals, major moral choices, possibly a countdown, probably things exploding. I try for these in my pulp fiction writing, especially at the close of my Robin Hood trilogy and in Blackthorn: Dynasty of Mars.

Lastly there's the sense-of-destiny ending. King Arthur takes his place at the Round Table - or heads away in a boat for Avalon, to await the day of his return. It's the moment when the protagonist we've watched struggle for 500 pages comes into his own. This ending sometimes but not always involves a romance, and sometimes but not always sets up a sequel.

What is the purpose of a good and effective story ending? How does that purpose differ from the opening of a story? Which, if either, if more important to the work?

H. David Blalock: A good ending should at least finish the story in a way that lets the reader see there is nothing left to tell. Unless you have the prestige of a Hitchcock or a very forgiving readership, all plotlines should be resolved. All questions should be answered. All conflicts should be resolved. One way or the other.

Herika Raymer: An effective story ending resolves all threads laid out in the story. Even if the thread is not tied up the way the reader would prefer, at least it is addressed. To me that is an effective ending - what threads were put out there and how can they be resolved?

James Layne: An over simplified answer would be that one is just as important as the other for the same reason, gaining enough of the reader's trust to get them to buy the next book... But from a story telling standpoint to me at least, the beginning is about kicking the door in and exposing what is on the other side. Endings, well not every story has a happy ending and life even in fiction isn't always neat and tidy. For me the ending is resolution of a problem and not about packaging it neatly for the evening news. I seem to do better with the endings to novels than with my short stories. I have trouble because endings require setup and sometimes its a challenge for me in shorter word counts... Boiled down, "The beginning sells this book, the ending sells the next one."

Ray Dean: An opening is supposed to set you down in the middle of the action, sweep you up in the story. The ending should be satisfying. Something that makes you feel the journey was worth it. And hopefully, it also instills excitement in you for the world you've just explored. Hope that you'll have other adventures in the same universe. Both are important... bookends.

Lee Houston Jr.: The opening should draw the reader into your tale and make them want to find out what happens next. The ending should at least have the reader satisfied, if not excited, that they did spend the time to read your story. Both are equally vital to the overall work.

Cam Crowder: The opening is more important for drawing the reader in, but the ending is what they're going to remember.

That said, I've seen a million-and-three different types of endings in my lifetime, and only a few of them stood out as wrong. I know people sometimes hate it when a book's last chapters move at light speed and the story ends leaving them with more questions than they had when they started. Personally, I like that, but it's not for everyone.

I also think that a good opening is more universal than a good ending. Most people like for their books to open with a hook to draw them in, whereas endings are very diverse, depending on the audience you're trying to reach.

Jason Henderson: The opening of a story performs the critical function of getting you, the reader, to read the whole first page and then turn that page. The rest is optional. The closing of a story performs the critical function of making you glad you read all the way to the end - a tougher job and one that books often fail. To me the opening is important for a very narrow purpose: getting you to decide in a split second whether to keep reading. (That's why I try to begin my adventure novels in media res, with the main character, say, falling out of an airplane. But even if you don't start with action, even if it's a dialogue scene in someone's drawing room, the opening has one job: keep you from putting the book back down.

An ending, on the other hand, has to make you feel like you were not wrong to keep reading -- to satisfy you and with any luck leave you with a visceral thrill, hairs standing on your arms. The opening can be a carnival barker and promise anything at all; the closing must sell you on the value of what you've read, and be right about it.

Shane Moore: I prefer the emotional ending to the big reveal. I want the reader moved insomuch they have a real emotional reaction. In order to achieve this, it forces me to write and develop a story the reader is fully invested in.

I.A. Watson: A good opening lays out the themes for the book, piques reader interest, sucks readers in. it;s most basic job is to get someone to turn to page 2, but it can and should do a lot more than that. A good ending affirms the whole experience, making the reader glad he or she purchased the work. The opening might determine whether the book gets read; the ending determines whether it gets read again, and loaned out, and recommended to friends, and given five-star reviews.

An ending needs to tie up plots, themes, personal character arcs, and any outstanding business. There's a slightly different answer for endings on ongoing series, which may carry over some elements, but in both cases there had to be a sense of closure. Think how many fan-favourite TV series have dropped from grace through poor endings (hello, Lost, Twin Peaks, even How I Met Your Mother). Books, which are usually longer-term commitments to experience and require a deeper cognitive function, demand even more rigorous levels of sense-of-completion.

Endings are more important in terms of literary quality. A book's reputation might survive a bad start. It won't survive a bad end.

What are the key elements of an effective ending paragraph or line? What makes them effective?

H. David Blalock: The ending is the most important part of the story, as just about any writer can tell you. It's easy to create conflict, to build characters, to populate plots. It's only the best writers who can bring everything together, meld it into a unified whole, and present it in an entertaining and acceptable way when the final paragraph passes under the reader's eye. Editors look at the opening to see if they should further consider a work for publication, but even if you pass the first hurdle, if you can't write an ending that tells the editor you know not only how to tell a story, but how to satisfy the reader.

Herika Raymer: Depending on how the paragraph or line is being used, how it is phrased. If you are using it to lead into the next sentence or chapter, be sure it leaves a sense of what is to come. If it is meant as a closure, have a feeling of finality to it.

James Layne: Resolution of a problem. Recovery of the McGuffin. Rescue of the damsel in distress. These are the purposes of the ending. If there is not an adequate and justified reason for the release of dramatic tension then give me something I can sink my teeth into. IF you can't do that then you better hit me with one heckuva good joke. The ending is the money shot, it is where your reader feels the value proposition... The most effective endings give you resolution, but  they also tease you with things that happen just outside the field of vision or earshot. Your reader has lived and died with your characters, they require justice for those with whom they've bled and cried. A happy ending is nice in the given circumstance, but the right ending is everything.

Ray Dean: Hmm.. perhaps an ending should be like a sleeve - (keep in mind I sew) - where a sleeve should end with an appropriate edge, line, or decoration. Something that complements the sleeve that led up to it. Some sleeves have a frilly edge, or a clean line of pin-tucks with a decorative button, or a light and airy froth. but if it contradicts the rest of the sleeve or the garment that it is worth with, it ruins the whole thing. Yeah, that may not work in everyone's mind, but that's how it is in mine.

Lee Houston Jr.: Somehow, those last words should summarize and impart the overall essence of the story, at least from the point of view of whoever says them, without revealing the outcome of the tale in case a copy should be looked over by the browser who glances at the last page of the print copy first.

Cam Crowder: For me personally, I like for the last line to keep me asking questions. I want to continue living in that world long after the last page is turned. Any book that can give me that, I consider effective.

But, again, the effectiveness of any ending line depends on the reader entirely. Some people don't care what it is as long as they get closure, others (like me) want some more things to think about.

And it's important to remember that your ending, whatever it might be, will define the story you're trying to tell. So it's best to make sure it's a definition you can live with. You want it to be as memorable as possible.

Jason Henderson: The ending paragraph or line doesn't have to be a clever line or joke; doesn't have to be the best line in the book. It just has to make you satisfied that you read it. So some final lines are not memorable per se - To Kill a Mockingbird's is: "He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning."

And you can't match the angry cool at the end of Casino Royale: "Yes, dammit, I said 'was.' The bitch is dead now."

Nor the chillingly taciturn final line from 1984: "I love Big Brother."

The final line of Frankenstein is: "He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance." I like that one; it's another pure close, the monster drifting "into the distance, like someone waving from the back of a train. Plus it's alliterative. Well done, Mary.

And the final line of Wuthering Heights is so good that it makes me cry even years after I remember the scene that ends it very well at all: "I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth."

So there it is: openings have to drag you in. The ending has to send you away feeling you were right to be dragged.

I.A. Watson: I've written a whole chapter on this for my forthcoming essay book Where Stories Dwell so I won't spoil that here - it's the last chapter in there, naturally. I'll briefly comment on some of my favourite tricks for closing lines:

1.    Final paragraph revelation: Rosebud was his sled!
2.    Underlining a theme or moral: "Next time, kids, maybe don't hold your frat party in the abandoned asylum, huh?"
3.    The hero gets his reward. "Sure, you're very clever. Now shut up about the case, get over here, and kiss me." "A point well made."
4.    Hook right back to the opening lines and offer some circularity or progression.