Herika Raymer: Creepy, Hold the Gore

Herika Raymer is a bookwright who wants to do each story right! She grew up consuming books - first eating them and later reading them. Reading was better, but writing was fun! A writer of mixed genre - science-fiction, thriller, horror, fantasy (dark and/or rural), and even some humor (yes it can be dark) - her style leans towards thriller/horror. No gore, she explores either monster-based or psychological horror. No explicit sex, she claims such scenes make her blush. Still, her characters are passionate and engaging enough to win short story competitions/awards. Intrigued? 

Tell us a bit about your latest work.

My latest published work is CHICKEN PULP, available from Hireath Publishing. It was inspired by a dinner I heard about. A bunch of authors, tired after a convention, ate together and discussed possible upcoming projects. The night wore on, spirits were improved by consumption of alcohol, and… well… ideas got weird.

One idea was of a horror anthology, and the draw was the main ingredient was chickens.

Yup, chickens.

Readers are treated to my imagining what the dinner must have been like in the opening scene.

Still, it got me thinking. I did a bit of research, found some interesting facts and tidbits about chickens, and viola - CHICKEN PULP emerged.

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

Mostly horror combined with thrillers and dark fantasy. I try to throw a bit of humor in where possible.

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

An enjoyment of storytelling, whether oral or written. The ability to not only visit the imaginations of other people via their work, but allow people to visit mine for a time. It’s interesting to see their reactions sometimes.

What inspires you to write? 

Depends on the subjects. Most times it’s the desire to explore ‘what if’. How many events in not only my lifetime but also other generations always have a ‘what if’ in them. ‘What if’ laws were enforced more? ‘What if’ punishments actually matched the crime? ‘What if’ a utopia could be achieved, what would it look like? ‘What if’ we could visit other planets, what could be there? ‘What if’ myth and lore were true, how would we coexist? Those are ponderings I like to explore.

What would be your dream project?

Honestly, something that would outlast me. Something dedicated to my kids, to family.

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

MAKE MINE WITH A SIDE OF CREEPY is a collection of previously published short stories that was released by Dark Oak Press / Kerlak Publishing many years ago. Dark Oak Press / Kerlak Publishing has since moved on from the printed work from what I understand. I have the right back, and would like to re-release the stories. The current task is finding a home for the stories. It would need to be divided up, I’m sure, but I’m willing to put in the work. 

What writers have influenced your style and technique?

I’d like to think Ray Bradbury, H. P. Lovecraft, Robert Heinlein, and John Brunner influenced my writing. Though I also read J. R. R. Tolkein, C. S. Lewis (love THE SCREWTAPE LETTERS), and David Eddings. I admire Neil Gaiman and Robert Aspirin’s perspective on worlds, very adventurous. Of course, I have fellow authors I admire - Jen Mulvihill, H. D. Blalock, Kristi Bradley, Robert Krog, Larry Hoy. Our styles and topics are different, but our passion is the same. So, I try to weave imagination with respect to the styles of not only authors from before, but those of today and tomorrow..

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

Writing? It is an art. It is an expression of creativity. Then again, so is science isn’t it. Yet where science deals in hypotheses of proving aspects of our reality, writing explores hypotheses of how ideas will result.

As the astronaut Mae Jemison, said, "The difference between science and the arts is not that they are different sides of the same coin... or even different parts of the same continuum, but rather, they are manifestations of the same thing. The arts and sciences are avatars of human creativity.”

What is the most difficult part of your artistic process? 

Overcoming procrastination.

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

They are my soundboards, my editors, and my Beta Readers. More importantly, they are my support group. They understand the difficulty and disillusionment, as well as the crippling effect of ‘imposter syndrome’. All of us hope to earn a living from our writing, but the frequent reward is sharing our tales with eager readers/listeners.

What does literary success look like to you? 

First, I want to say financial success. It would be nice, believe me. Yet now, I realize it is more recognition of voice. We read our favorite authors repeatedly because of how they turn a phrase, how they bring us to their lands and tell us about them, and help us escape for a time. I’d like to be able to do that.

Any other upcoming projects you would like to plug?  

I’m currently working on three. 

The first of three JUDGEMENT DAY novels should be released around October 2024.

The second is a fantasy piece Three Ravens Publishing has expressed interest in. I hope to have it published with them before the end of this year, but I have no scheduled release at this time.

The third is a set of short stories in my COLLECTOR series to be featured in Hireath’s ParAbnormal Magazine.

For more information, visit: 

Unfortunately, my author website is in between homes. However, you can see a list of where to find my works on my Amazon Author Page.

Show, Don't Tell -- Sure. But How? A Description Writing Roundtable

For our next writers' roundtable, we're continuing this week's theme and talking about writing description. 

How much description do you tend to put into your work? When is (for you) it not enough? When is it (for you) too much?

Marian Allen: All detail should be "telling" detail -- that is, it should contribute to the scene or to the story as a whole. It's definitely too much if I'm reading it out loud and get bored. 

Brian K. Lowe: I try to put in enough description to paint the necessary picture, but leave the rest to the reader's imagination. No matter how you describe a character, everyone will see that character differently (like when you fantasy-cast your favorite book as a movie). 

Herika Raymer: I try to follow the adage of 'show don't tell,' but I also try not to pull a Thomas Covenant, where it takes two pages to finish one description. It's a tricky balance, but I do try to be concise while being descriptive. Can be difficult when writing, because sometimes the words used are not 'common'. I have to be sure that whatever words I use are relatively well known.

Bobby Nash: I know it sounds like a cop-out answer, but it depends. I like to make sure I’ve set the scene, let the reader know what they need to know. Conversely, there are things I leave less fleshed out so the reader can fill in the blanks. A murder scene, for example, I don’t go into every detail of the body’s condition, the blood, etc. The reader’s own imagination will do the work for me and make the scene even more graphic than anything I could write.

I play it by ear so too much or not enough is based on a gut feeling, I suppose. I want to make sure my readers have the information they need. In a mystery, especially, I want the clues to be in the story for the reader to find. That is important and I make sure it’s there.

Jessica Nettles: I work hard to describe scenes in a way that gives readers a sense of place. At the same time, I’m a lot like Bobby in that it depends on what’s going on or what’s needed. I have had to learn to balance what to describe and what not to describe. I wrote scripts for a while, and had to relearn how to weave in good description when I returned to prose writing.

Ef Deal: When I depict a setting, I try to capture more than the visual accuracy of the scene. I use colors, scents, light and shadow, and furnishings to convey or evoke as much of the emotional freight as I can. 

Ernest Russell: I like to write enough description so the reader has something for their imagination to work on, they'll fill in blank far better if I did it right. If particular details are needed, I'll be certain they are in the description.

Let's slice that question a different way. Do you picture the scene in your head as you write it, and if so, how do you figure out which details 100 percent have to be there for the reader to also picture, and which ones are open to the reader's interpretation?

Herika Raymer: Since I usually write with scenes in my head, I can safely say that is exactly what I try to transcribe. To be sure the details are sufficient, I try to read the passage aloud. Either to a test audience or to myself to see if I can recreate the image. Often though, much of it has to be left to interpretation.

Ernest Russell: Sometimes, I fall into this amazing place where I am merely writing down what I see and hear. It is the most euphoric feeling. My partner/Editor says that can really tell when it happens as they are editing. Most of the time I am struggling to describe the events and trying to figure out the details.

Bobby Nash: I see locations in my head and I describe them as necessary. There are some places where it’s less important to give every detail. If I say, for instance, that Bobby and Sean walk into Bobby’s office, I don’t have to say that there is a desk, two chairs, one bookshelf, overflowing with books and papers, two large area rugs, a mini fridge, a filing cabinet, and a potted plant that hadn’t been water since Bush was in office. Instead, I would mention an office, most readers know what an office looks like and assume certain things are there like a desk and chairs and focus on the important details. In the case above, the overflowing bookshelf and dead plant tell you a lot about Bobby. I can work in the two chairs part when Bobby offers Sean a seat or the mini fridge if he offers his guest a drink. I don’t need to info dump it all at once.

Krystal Rollins: As my husband once said, when he sees me writing, my facial expressions change, as if I'm not there anymore, like an out-of-body expression. I put myself in the scene, like outside looking in. I try to write in the sentence what I see, smell, and feel. 

Ef Deal: There's a huge difference between "It was sunset" and "The last of the sun sliced blood-red across the horizon beneath a sky the color of battered flesh" or "A bright red ribbon marked the end of the summer day, and the dark of night settled softly over them along with the heady perfume of the surrounding lindens."

At the same time, I don't want the forward motion or pace to suffer from overwriting, so sometimes I have to wait until a scene is finished to find out what is necessary and useful.

Jessica Nettles: I do see most scenes in my mind. The way I avoid over-describing is by considering what the central character in the scene sees and is experiencing in that moment. So if my character is at an airport waiting for her plane to be refueled, she’s going to probably see the workers taking care of her plane and the hangar area where she parked her plane. She may also notice that guy in the gray suit who is out of place and pointing a pistol at her. She won’t notice the other planes or the coffee pot inside the hangar.

How do you determine the type of description needed for a scene (visceral, setting details, physical characteristic details, internal details)?

Brian K. Lowe: Different scenes demand different levels of description, depending on the scene; an action scene depends more on its rhythms than description, for example.

Jessica Nettles: I determine what sort of description by focusing on what I need for a scene. So do I need to amp the tension? Is the plant life part of what will happen in the scene? Is a character frying green tomatoes? All of those things make a difference as to how I will use description.

Ernest Russell: The genre, type, mood of the story determine what kind of details. Action stories for me, usually have shorter, tighter descriptions. Horror will be more visceral, more metaphors as examples.

Ef Deal: In a first draft, I usually just push through the scene doing the blocking and dialogue, and I come back to flesh out the textures.

Herika Raymer: Details to be described depending on the effect I am looking for. If it is atmosphere, focus more on the surrounding. If it is how a character is viewed or how their actions are perceived, then focus on the character, how they look, and what reactions are around them. The description essentially puts something in the spotlight, and the author decides what is in the spotlight. What becomes tricky is when something may be going on in the background that is pertinent but the author does not want the hint to give away anything major.

Bobby Nash: Part of that depends on the POV the story is being told from. In the scene I mentioned in the last question, if Bobby’s POV, there’s less about the office’s layout since he knows it well, but I might have him upset that the fridge wasn’t stocked or have him mention how hard it is to find his keys in all this clutter. If from Sean’s POV, he would note that Bobby is a slob, might comment on the stacks of papers everywhere or the dead plant. The type and amount of description changes depending on who’s describing it.

What tools (if any) do you use to help you create description for your work?

Bobby Nash: Picturing the room helps. If it’s a place I will revisit again and again, maybe diagraming it or using photo reference to build the set in my head, so I am consistent in my descriptions. On Sean’s second visit to Bobby’s office, he might comment that the dead plant is missing and has been replaced with a fish tank and now Sean is worried if the fish will have better odds than the plant.

Marian Allen: Sometimes I draw a floor plan or landscape plan of the place I'm thinking of and let that dictate business/thought, as in, "She went up the stairs one at a time. She could do two at a time, or even three -- she was sure she could do three! -- but she was too much of a lady." Whatever. Weirdly, although I VERY seldom do detailed descriptions, I've had more than one person describe, in detail, the setting after they'd read a scene.

Ernest Russell: If I'm getting stuck, I'll go look it up. If it is a halfback I'll pull the manual. An aircraft? Video of it in flight. A Viking settlement? Archeology texts.

Sometimes writing prompts or sites that offer descriptive prompts. Reading, since the more you read of types of genre, fiction and nonfiction, adds to the breadth of turns of phrase.

Carry a notebook and jot cool things you hear down.

Above all, language is fun; mix it up and enjoy.

Jessica Nettles: I use photos (especially for historical places and clothing), personal experience, and maps (real maps and also maps of the scene). I also use art and even music.

Herika Raymer: Since I am a visual person, I usually try visual aids like pictures and videos. If I think other senses should be used, like sound or taste or smell, I try to find descriptions similar to what I am looking for to help me transcribe what my mental image depicts.

Krystal Rollins: My concern us too much or a run-on sentence. Not enough information would make the reader bored. Too much or too little? Add in what my character is thinking.

A TRAVELING SHOW OF CREATURES WHERE THE OWNER IS THE BIGGEST MYSTERY! ‘MATAGORDIA’S MYTHICAL MENAGERIE’ NOW AVAILABLE!

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MATAGORDIA’S MYTHICAL MENAGERIE is a wondrous mix of magic, mystery, and madness. Beasts, beings, and monsters thought to be fantasy…or fears alone are the featured attraction of this extravaganza. The truth is that humans and the animals we know to exist are not all that exist, and those things, those living things that belong to legend and nightmare, to dream and story…they need a place to be as well. A way to live. And someone to take care of them.

Be it a circus tent in the middle of a Midwestern field in the 19th Century or a small auditorium that somehow suddenly appears in Chicago in the 1930s, Matagordia’s Mythical Menagerie is a place where not only can regular folks see creatures they thought to be made up…but those very beasts aren’t on display as much as they live in a world all their own, one that is more than tent flaps or doors. Where outsiders see a warehouse actually may exist entire landscapes…and then there’s Matagordia, as much mystery and possible myth as the creatures on impossible display.

MATAGORDIA’S MYTHICAL MENAGERIE, an anthology featuring stories by T.N. Goode, Herika Raymer, Kenneth Robkin, Dewayne Dowers, and Paige McMahon with an introduction from concept creator Tommy Hancock. From Pro Se Productions.

Featuring a mysterious cover and print formatting and logo design by Antonino lo Iacono, MATAGORDIA’S MYTHICAL MENAGERIE is available for 9.99 via Amazon.

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For more information on this title, interviews with the author, or digital copies for review, email editorinchief@prose-press.com.

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

Is Your Setting Just a Place or a Character?

As writers, we all have our favorite setting in which to tell stories, and we also have our favorite passages that establish those setting. As a reader I've seen the masters at work, from the arid tone and sparseness of Capote's In Cold Blood...

"The village of Holcomb stands on the high wheat plains of western Kansas, a lonesome area that other Kansans call 'out there.'"

...to the rambling, darkly poetic tour of Manderly in DuMarrier's Rebecca...

"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me. There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate."

But let's make it personal. How do YOU establish setting in your fiction?

On a range of "the setting is another character" to "a few words about the weather and the name of the town is more than enough," how important is setting to your stories?

Gordon Dymowski: For me, the setting is one of the key elements of making a story work. Even if I'm just writing a modern-day tale, providing an appropriate atmosphere is critical. I'm strictly in the "setting-as-character" camp since it provides a backdrop for the flesh-and-blood characters. Providing that atmosphere enhances both my writing and the reader's experience.

Elizabeth Donald: When I first began writing fiction, my stories were like the Star Trek original series episode “The Empath.” You’ll remember that one - they ran out of money for sets and the whole thing takes place on an empty sound stage with a square block for the characters to occasionally sit. It’s actually a pretty good episode, but I was always struck by how it seemed to be taking place in nowhere.

That’s what my writing was like. People did things, said things, died horribly, but it might as well have been in that nowhere space for all the description I put into place and setting. As I grew and developed my craft, I realized that setting can absolutely be a character, and knowing a place can really inform your story. I’ve infested Memphis with vampires and rusalka and a number of other critters, because I lived there for several years and I know the city will. I’ve often used settings like Illinois river towns, because it is territory I know, having lived and reported in Illinois river towns for more than 25 years. 

In the micro sense, where you place a story can greatly influence the reader’s opinion. For example, a recent story I submitted to my MFA workshop was set in a cheap, kind of slimy motel. My colleagues said that having this moment take place in that kind of setting led them to expect it would be a tawdry moment, something illicit - cheating, drug-fueled, perhaps people on the edge of homelessness - none of which I intended form the story. Setting matters to the characters, influences the readers, and thus it needs to matter to the writer.

Vonnie Winslow Crist: For me, setting is almost another character. I choose a setting for my fiction that has an impact on the story. Sensory language is the most important tool in my toolbox for creating a strong sense of location. That said, the sensory details need to carefully selected for maximum impact. No one wants to read pages of sensory observations. Sometimes, one well-chosen detail can define the location, set the mood, and start the action in motion.

Anna Grace Carpenter: I am very fond of setting as character, but fluctuate as setting as a reflection of the central characters, and setting as a contrast to my central characters. (For example, The Gear'd Heart is all rainy and dark and cold as the characters fight otherworldly, serial killers. But the current work-in-progress is a desert setting but with characters who are desperate to live.

Selah Janel: It depends on the story, but setting matters in a lot of my work. I gravitate towards forests and small towns, and both can be portrayed to convey tone and characters. In one form, they can be romantic and comforting, in another they can be suffocating and foreboding. For me, setting can be an extension of my characters or a character in itself, yet another antagonist working against the characters like in Candles or Mooner, or something that’s more supportive like a quiet best friend in a story like Holly or Ivy. Even in my short stories, I use setting to echo the tone and feel quite a bit.

HC Playa: Setting sets tone. It is both little more than background and yet absolutely integral to the story. In genre fiction it can outline the realities and rules of the world, whether there's magic or aliens or we are reading by candlelight.

I sketch it out through my character's eyes and senses, dropping things in as they go. IF I am using a real place I may put in less description, but still want to paint an image in the reader's mind because not everyone has been to the same places.

Herika Raymer: As setting is when and where the story takes place, I agree with HC that it sets tone. Usually setting through a character's eyes helps, but there is the added measure of setting through a character who had not been in your setting before. That way, not only the character but also the reader are exploring a new area. It allows the reader to (hopefully) connect with characters as well as get the background and events of the Setting to help understand what is happening.

Bill Craig: In my Marlow books, Key West is every bit a character as well as setting.

Bobby Nash: The vast majority of the time, setting is very important to me and my work, especially in a series where the setting is visited and revisited often. Sommersville is a fictional city and county I created that has become an important location in multiple books fronted by different characters. I think it’s a very important character in the stories. I want the reader to have a feel for the settings.

Murky Master: So it depends. In the last two short stories I wrote, they were short so going verbose on the setting wasn't an option. In my novel, it's set in San Antonio and I didn't really think much about establishing setting in that one. But, when I write my fantasy stories, I like to think of it this way.

Ian Totten: Setting is extremely important to me. When I write I see everything in my mind and try to convey that to the readers. Generally speaking, my settings either serve to create a sense of dread (such as the place where a killer is going to strike), a false sense of safety, or an actual area where the characters don’t need to have their guards up.

What is your most effective tool in your writer's toolbox for creating a strong sense of setting in your work?

Bobby Nash: The setting you create has to feel real, not just to the reader, but to me as the writer. I need to be able to imagine walking down the streets of that location, recognize the smells, the colors, the things that make that place unique. If I believe it’s real, that translates into the story.

Herika Raymer: Using the senses, but trying not to be too descriptive. I do not want to be a writer who uses two pages to explain what one thing looks like or tastes like. However, a reader experiencing their surroundings through the senses of the character can definitely be instrumental to setting the scene.

John L. Taylor: Depending on the story. If the setting is fairly fantastic, I'll go more detailed and emphasize the contrast between it and the known. If more down-to-earth, I'll write it as a metaphor for the POV character's mood/personality. 

Selah Janel: I really like to lean into details, and if I don’t have the space for that, I try to use setting just enough to induce a mood in the characters, and by extension my readers. Little things matter, though, and knowing a place or type of place well can give you so much to work with in terms of story.

Bill Craig: The places where I set a lot of the action are real places where I have been. I try to make descriptions of places as vivid as I can in order to make readers feel as if they are visiting the island. For Key West, the sights and sounds are well known by many people, so it is easy to incorporate them, from wild chickens running all over town to iguanas coming out of the trees to swim in hotel swimming pools. Island music is everywhere as there is some sort of musician playing nearly 24 hours a day, giving a flavor from salsa to calypso, to Jimmy Buffet. 

Gordon Dymowski: Details, details, details. It's amazing how some writers will point to obvious landmarks (like the Empire State Building) as if to say "We're in New York". Writing places that are out-of-the-way or suggesting a deeper history can do a lot for setting place, tone, and mood.

For example, when I write about Chicago, most of my action tends to take place on the city's south side. Part of it is that there's a historic tension between the North Side and South Side (due to both class and racial factors that are too lengthy to go into here), but part of it is...I know Sears Tower exists (and nobody calls it Willis Tower, just like nobody calls where the White Sox play Guaranteed Rate Park -- it's Sox Park or, if you're older, Comiskey Park). Anything that suggests that the setting has a history improves your ability to tell a story.

Elizabeth Donald: Live your life. I know that’s not the craft response, and certainly addressing metaphor and descriptive passages and details are all very important, but the reader can tell if you’re making up a setting from what you’ve seen in a movie or TV show rather than real-life experience. I learned to shoot guns because I was writing a lot of shoot-em-ups and it was blindingly apparent I’d never shot a gun in my life. I wrote an early novel in New York City that was fairly terrible, as I had never been to New York and I didn’t realize a lot of aspects you only realize once you’ve walked around on its streets. 

If you want to create a place, first visit it or something similar. Pay attention. Take notes. Engage all five senses and experience a place if you want to recreate it in fiction. And then send in the zombies. It livens everything up. 

Davide Mana: I started writing my "Buscafusco" stories, about an unlicensed PI working in the wine hills of southern Piedmont where I live, as a collaboration with the local Chamber of Commerce and Tourism. The idea was to use my stories to promote tourism in the area. The place had therefore to be really another character in the stories, and I used a mix of historical details and contemporary color to give the readers as strong an impression as possible. I had to be as close as possible to the authentic places I described and tried to use as much true detail as possible in setting up action scenes and plot elements. I used real people whenever possible.

The result was highly satisfying for me as a writer and (based on feedback) for the readers and paid back the extra research and effort needed.

Ef Deal: I like to focus on texture and sensory details like scent and taste. I also will describe a general layout as it affects the plot or action. For example, an opening of a second chapter describes the history of the chateau only to highlight the engineering genius of my heroine in bringing it up to date (1843), since those changes will play a part in the action later in the book.

Anna Grace Carpenter: I focus on those visceral details. The chill and misery of a rainy setting, the exhaustion and thirst of a desert setting. If the characters have injuries I focus on how the environment affects those wounds.

HC Playa: Invoking the senses. I do admit that this is something I feel is a work-in-progress skill. I joke that a reader might accurately guess without knowing me that my sense of smell is not very good. My characters tend not to smell much unless it's really strong and generally ick 😂. Yay allergies.

How important are sensory details when establishing setting? Internal monologue to establish "connection"? Omniscient telling for all the facts?

Robert Waters: Internal dialogue is important to me. But it's something you have to balance and not have it dominate the story. I've seen stories with whole paragraphs of internal dialogue, to the point of annoyance. IMO, not a good way to go. What I often do is have the character thinking / brooding / contemplating over something as part of the main narrative, and then, he/she will say a few words to him or herself to cap off the thought. That to me is a better way to handle internal dialogue. 

Selah Janel: It depends on word count and what’s going on in the story. I love sensory details, because they help build a world and immerse readers, as well as giving characters so much to work with externally and internally. Sometimes, though, showing their own thoughts about a place is enough with less emphasis on external description. It really depends on what the goal is for the scene.

Bobby Nash: It all goes to set the stage. I like to have the narrator let us know not only details about the place but how they connect to the POV character in that chapter. I can drop details about Sommersville, and they work, but when I tie those details to Tom Myers’ life, they take on greater meaning.

Bill Craig: Sensory details are hooks to put the reader into the story and setting. 

Anna Grace Carpenter: I only write 1st or close 3rd person. So the voice is always immediate and tied to the centralized character. (Even in third, everything is very close to the character who is the focus of the chapter. So those details are personal.)

Elizabeth Donald: I struggle with interiority in my writing, and it’s something I’ve been focusing on in my craft. Internal monologue comes more from character than setting, in my humble opinion, but both of these help develop a rich narrative that draws your reader into that total immersion for which we strive when we’re writing. Those sensory details go much further in terms of setting, as far as I’m concerned: when you’re standing in an open-air market in San Antonio, hearing mariachi music, smelling the street corn and tamales, watching the brightly-colored flags flutter against the blue sky, feeling an overly-warm breeze on your face… that puts you in a place, at a time, and you have established a place. 

HC Playa: I avoid omniscient telling in my writing. As a reader, nothing makes me skip ahead quicker than a setting info dump from an invisible omniscient narrator. If I skip it and don't enjoy it, I don't write it. While I do occasionally use internal dialogue, I rely mostly on the character's POV to relate setting. It gives the reader a more immersive experience.

Gordon Dymowski: Sometimes the way to "dot the I" when crafting a setting is ensuring that every sense is involved. For example, my high school years were spent commuting through Chicago's Maxell Street market. I could discuss how I took the Number 8 Halsted bus, but the reader would be more intrigued by describing the storefronts along the street (with metal covers for the windows), the vendors hawking wares on the sidewalk (including hubcaps), and the strong odor of grilled onions and Polish sausage wafting through the air.

I've just painted a picture for you of that experience. The Market has since moved (and the street is now covered by amenities for college students), but that sense memory still lingers.

As far as internal monologue/omniscient narrator, it depends on the type of story. Leaving out details can be critical in setting the scene (just read Poe's short stories), and having the "innocent bystander" narrate can drive insight into actions and behaviors (paging Dr. Watson). All of these are tools that any writer can and should use.

Vonnie Winslow Crist: Used judicially, internal monologue can let the reader see into a character and their motivations, goals, etc. Again, a little goes a long way. Too much internal monologue slows the pace of the story. I'm not a fan of omniscient telling -- it usually feels like "telling" and not like a story unfolding. The setting doesn't work in my fiction when I "force" a story to be set in a place. When I allow the narrative to settle comfortably in a location rather than force it to fit into an environment, it's easier to write and the resulting tale works better for readers (and editors). 

I'm a fan of George Martin's term "gardener" for a writer. One organically selects details, adjusts the narrative, and makes decisions about location, internal monologues, pov, etc. much like one gardens -- well, much like I garden. For me, it's less about straight rows and perfect flowers, and more about the beauty that comes from discovery and adapting to the unexpected.

Herika Raymer: Sensory details are important because we all (unless otherwise incapacitated) experience our reality through our senses, makes sense we would want a bit of sensory in the stories we real.

Internal monologue can help establish "connection" with a character because it helps the reader either comprehend, understand, or even approve/disapprove of a character's motives and actions.

Omniscient telling for all the facts can be fun, but it depends on the presentation. For instance, I am watching an anime right now based of a manga series. Though a different presentation, the author's way of presenting omniscient facts is to have a narrator make hilarious remarks on what is happening. It adds spice to an otherwise pretty cut and paste story. This may not be feasible in a traditional written format, but I have read some authors who have ways to bring in omniscience without it being too much of a data dump and thus taking away from the lure of the written word.

What have you read or written that absolutely didn't work in regard to making the setting feel real or important to the work? Why didn't it work?

Bill Craig: Longmire did a great job in character and setting. The only book I have read that failed in this respect is a book about a pulp character by a "Name" mystery writer. Sadly, it was so poorly written that I could not finish it and returned it. It ignored the history of the character and turned him into a secondary character rather than being the titular hero.

Elizabeth Donald: I will be generous and pick on TV, because they make a lot of money and won’t care. I always had myself a huge giggle at Smallville, as the teens of Smallville High would go swimming in the lovely alpine lakes shrouded with evergreens in… Kansas. Seriously, folks, at least try to hide that you’re shooting in Vancouver. Shows like Supernatural were equally ridiculous about this - claiming to be in St. Louis and an establishing shot of the Arch really doesn’t qualify as establishing a setting. At least when Doctor Who lands on Earth, he’s honest enough to admit he mostly toodles around London because budget. 

How can we apply this to the written word? Know the territory. If you can’t physically visit a place, use your Google-fu and explore. Try to find someone who lives there or has visited there and interview them. I did this when I set a Blackfire adventure in the Philippines, and before I even ventured close to that one, I interviewed a friend of a friend who grew up there. I see it as no different than interviewing experts in advance of writing something technically different, like asking an arson investigator how you can most efficiently kill someone with fire and get away with it. (Just be sure they know you’re a writer; it’s far less likely to result in a search warrant for your apartment.)

Murky Master: Setting is only the combined sensory input going into a character's mind. The details that are important to the character are important to the story, so they will rise to the top.

A missionary about to face Elder gods in the Vietnamese jungle would see the following

"The dark of the night gave every biting insect an echo. The vines strangled like tentacles, their origins in the pitch black of the tree forks, like they were dropping out of the unknowable night..."

But, an adventuring doctor rushing to get medicine through that same jungle would see this

"Every branch, every vine clawed and tugged at Dr. Nguyen, grasped and clawed at his sweat-soaked pant legs. Even the air dragged on him as he swam through the humidity, every leaping stride through wet, leaves feeling like a backhand. Like the one that mother would deal him if that girl drowned in her own pneumatic lungs).

Bobby Nash: Sure. Probably. I can’t think of an example off the top of my head and wouldn’t want to throw another writer under the bus. As a writer, if the author isn’t giving me those details, my brain fills them in, which could hurt the scene the author is trying to convey. If I don’t connect to the location, it becomes a generic location in my imagination.

Anna Grace Carpenter: I can't say I have written anything that was disconnected from setting. I write a lot of suspension of disbelief stuff, but setting is rarely a part of that. But, I did stop reading "The Lies of Locke Lamora" after a particular scene that was particularly brutal but also ignored some general physics.

Herika Raymer: The most glaring example that comes to mind was reading a sample chapter in Amazon from a highly recommended book (though not so much later on once more facts were discovered about the author). Her description of the scene was fair, setting the tone of tension and the fear of being chased. However, when it came time for the main character to act -- that is when it did not work. She had her character running on a broken ankle. Yes, broken. Readers can suspend belief for some things, but unless the author establishes right away that the main character is in some way supernatural, I have yet to meet someone who could run on a broken ankle with no problem. It was not the only problem with the story, but it was the first of many.

HC Playa: I can't think of any specific examples off the top of my head, but plenty of romance-type stories and contemporary fiction really have no connection to the setting. You could pick up the entire story, plop it in another city and it wouldn't matter.

Davide Mana: There is a notorious thriller novel, published a few years back by an Italian writer, and set in London. It was so successful Amazon did an English translation - that was pretty popular with the American public and got the British readers rabid (we talk a few dozens one-star reviews).

The author did not do any research, and what she produced was a story in which the London police carried guns, in which Scotland Yard is closed for business on weekends (!!), and the big set piece is a car chase and shootout on the streets of London (but the geography is all wrong). The plot was OK, but all the setting details that should have propped it up were wrong, and a lot of people noticed. It was an absolute failure on the worldbuilding side, caused by an obvious lack of research.

So, the bottom line: using actual places as setting can be a disaster if you don't do the minimum of research needed to establish an authentic sense of place. Sometimes Google Maps is enough.

Also, sometimes researching the worldbuilding changes the direction of your story: while writing my first novel (historical adventure), I spent a weekend working with my brother (who studied Chinese), browsing Chinese-language websites in search of the actual location of the Italian consulate in Shanghai in 1936. I could have played it fast and loose, but the time spent on research revealed the consulate was across the street from the British police barracks - which changed the whole dynamic of the action in the first third of my story. I had to do a lot of rewrite, but it was well worth the effort.

Gordon Dymowski: As part of my review duties for I Hear of Sherlock, I read one pastiche which read more like a cliche screenplay than an actual Holmes work. (I'm not going to name it here). By the end, it was more concerned with being clever than setting a great mood or driving strong characters. Let's end on a positive note: some great examples of authors who use setting well are Robert B. Parker's early Spenser novels, Sara Paretsky's VI Warshawski novels, and Jim Thompson's novels (which, yes, are unsettling but that's half the reason why I enjoy them).

John L. Taylor: Best example, again from an in-progress book of mine is introducing main characters who can travel in dreams by cornering their target in a dream of an abandoned decaying mansion meeting them at a chessboard with a game in progress. Both characters are damaged people, past their prime, but still intelligent and elegant in their ways, and ruthless hunters of their quarry. The visuals are symbolic of that.

Questions from a Brave and Stupid Man to a Panel of Women Writers #2: Pseudonyms

Being a white man, I willingly acknowledge I have blind spots, things that while they don't register to me like they perhaps should are things well worth my time and thought and important for me to know and understand in order to a member of a community of diverse writers.

That said, I've assembled an all-female panel of writers to be my teachers.

In the previous discussion someone brought up the issue of using a pen name. I figured we could go deeper into that issue this time.

This is #2 in a series of articles. The first can be found here, and the third here. 

So, today's discussion is this:

Do you find using a pseudonym helpful or a waste of time? Does it matter if you choose one that can be vague as to the gender or can a male one still open doors better than a female name? Or is it a genre specific issue?

Nikki Nelson-Hicks: I wrote it. I want my name on it. But that's my decision. I know people who use a pen name because they don't want their families to know about their work or they have a professional reputation to safeguard. I'm lucky that I don't have anything like that to hide from. I wrote it. That's my name. Deal with it.

Alexandra Christian: I started using a pen name because I was writing steamy romance while teaching 2nd grade. Apparently women are still supposed to be sexless schoolmarms. I write across a few genres, but I haven’t felt the need to come up with new pen names just yet. Or maybe all my writing is inherently sexual.

Ellie Raine: I've heard a lot of women use male pen names to get more sales in certain genres (and men using female pen names for romance) and it sucks that it continually gets them results. I choose to use my female name despite the genre I write because I would rather help break society's expectations of which genders "writer better (you name it) books". I don't know if anything will change from it, but I'd rather not feed the poison and keep the cycle of these assumptions going. The only way minds will be changed is if they consistently SEE that any gender can write any genre well.

Alexandra Christian: I’ve never gotten an agent, but I queried one book a lot and was pretty much told that my book was too sexy for sci-fi and too sci-fi for romance. I often wonder if I’d queried as a nonspecific pen name if I’d have had more success.

Ellie Raine: I had one agent tell me mine was too paranormal and not epic fantasy enough, and another tell me it was too epic fantasy and not paranormal enough. Funny how no one can seem to place these things... I never considered it may be because of the female/male dynamic, but it would be interesting to know if that was a factor.

Lucy Blue: My first publication was a collaboration with another writer, so we came up with a pen name together -- Anne Hathaway-Nayne. (And yes, it was a joke, sort of - we were writing a tie-in for Forever Knight, and Shakespeare was a character.) Then for my first solo publication with Pocket Books, I used a version of my real name, Jayel Wylie (my actual birth name is Jessica Leslie Wylie, which got shortened to JL, which my mother spelled out as Jayel), and I did three book with them under that name. Then my editor asked me to go in a slightly steamier and more fang-y direction with my next book and told me going in I was looking at one of those oh-so-popular torso covers. Because I wanted to write that book but I didn't necessarily want to always write that kind of book forever, I started using Lucy Blue. And that has since become a brand for me as a romance writer. But I'm still not sure if I'll use Lucy Blue or my real name if I do a non-romance book - it's an issue that I'm hoping is going to come up sometime in the next year, and I'll be open to input from my publisher about it then. And yeah, the idea has crossed my mind of being "J.L. Glanville" instead of "Jessica Glanville" because it's gender-neutral. But my writing, romantic or not, is so very woman-centric, I don't think I'd be fooling anybody.

Stephanie Osborn: I wrote one pure romance novel under a pen name, years ago. It didn't sell to a traditional publisher (mostly because said publisher lost it), so I threw it up indie, and occasionally it sells a copy or two.

For my SF, mystery, and popular science, I use my own name. Sometimes I kinda wish I'd used initials or something, 'cause then the SF might sell better, I sometimes think. But hey, it is what it is. I might try initials one of these days with a new series or something, just to see what happens.

Anna Grace Carpenter: I originally started using my initials because folks in real life seemed to have so much trouble remembering my given name and I was genuinely worried that folks would not be able to find my books on the shelf because they would be looking for Mary Grace or Sarah Jane instead of Anna Grace. (Of course, a couple years after I'd started selling short stories, I asked someone to look at a story that kept getting to the final round on the editors desks and then rejected. I sent him the submission formatted copy which had my real name and contact info on the first page. In his return comments the first thing he said was "I think you shouldn't use your real name because it's really too sweet for someone writing zombie stories." So the bias is definitely real.) I do introduce myself by my actual name and not my author name because my intention is not to hide anything, but I'm not rebranding my work at this point unless it's in a drastically different genre.

Nancy Hansen: I've always written under my own name because I'm proud of what I do, and so is my very supportive family. I figure an entire legion of women labored in obscurity before me, having to hide their identity to get recognized for their outstanding work in speculative and genre fiction, and I owe it to them to celebrate the freedom to be myself.

Herika Raymer: To be truthful, I am most likely still considered new to the field. Mostly because, as yet, I have not encountered any preconceptions about my name -- possibly because of how it is spelled. No one wants to 'offend' me (LOL).But I have to agree, if I wrote it I would prefer my name on it. Then again, there are times when I have considered a pen name simply because of my mundane life. Sometimes what you write should not cross over with your mundane identity. (wink wink)

Elizabeth Donald: People were always surprised that I wrote fiction under my own name, which is the same name I use for my 21 years of journalism. They acted like it would negatively impact my reputation as a journalist, but I didn't write anything I would be ashamed of, and quite frankly, most of my day-job colleagues and sources were supportive or amused. I got a little light teasing for writing romance, but nothing like the negative reactions I saw in the horror/SF world for writing romance and ebooks.

Yes, ebooks. I'm old, so my first couple of books came out in the infancy of ebooks, even pre-Kindle. People said, "I'll wait for the real book," and I couldn't use the ebooks as credits. One con even rewrote my submitted bio to call me an aspiring author. And I've spoken before about the negative reaction to paranormal romance encroaching in horror and SF, being dismissed as "vamporn," difficulty getting on horror panels and being stuck on the midnight sex panel - and the eternal, "So why are vampires so sexy?" panel. (I've started requesting NOT to be on those panels, because it was so tedious to say the same things at the same panels every single time.)

Eventually I vowed that if I would ever write more romance, it would be under a pen name and it would not be open. I found it sadly ironic that while the expectation was "romance will hurt your journalism career," it was really "writing romance means no one will take you seriously as a horror writer." It was not what I expected. Cynical colleagues said it was purely a gender thing: romance is a "woman's genre," and thus it was acceptable as long as I didn't venture into the boys' club - that the negative response of horror/SF to romance was really a negative response to women authors. I like to think that they're wrong, but I haven't found solid evidence yet.

I liked writing romance. It made me a better writer in ways that I could detail if I wasn't already far afield of Sean's question. I didn't like some of the genre's "rules," and I didn't fit in very well to readers' expectations. But in the end, I needed to jettison it from my own name in order to rebuild my brand - and to this day, 11 years after writing my last romance under my name, people who are even good friends and longtime readers will introduce me as, "This is Elizabeth Donald, she writes vampire smut." Sigh...

Amanda Niehaus-Hard: I wrote under diferent names for accounting purposes and to separate out some sections of my life from others. When I started out, I was told that sometimes a romance or women's fic publishing house will want to keep your romance "name" separate from other fiction you might write, but I'm not sure that's accurate these days. Someone recently pointed out to me that tenure-track teaching positions usually require some kind of regular publishing credentials and using a different name might complicate things. Again, no idea if that's true but I'm rolling out all new work under one of two iterations of my legal name, which is associated with my university and hopefully any future teaching I might do.

Dark Oak presents Make Mine With a Side of Creepy by Herika Raymer!

Brains in boxes, creatures beyond the mirror, monsters from a child’s mind, hero dolls, daring ferrets…

Welcome to the imagination of Herika R. Raymer and discover 21 extraordinary stories ranging from horror to science fiction and steampunk. Lose yourself in the worlds within, and escape reality for a while.

“Welcome to my mind’s eye. Within these pages, you will discover people, places, and things to intrigue, entertain, and shock you. I like to explore many different realms. Come along, and I hope you enjoy.”

-Herika R. Raymer

http://www.darkoakpress.com/creepy.html

The Tales:

Don’t Talk To Strangers
Be Careful What You Wish For
Steam Race
Internment
Mirror Gate
Believe
Clash
Monsters From The ID
Cal’s Cutoff
Seventh Degree
Exchange
Immortality
Lost Child’s Little Protector
One Way
Dook
What Goes Around
The Children of Gennhara
Piasa Remains
Beyond The Mark
Cell Phone
Change Of The Guard

Draft Editing: Whens and Whats

Special thanks to Ellie Raine for this week's Writers Roundtable questions.

What is the biggest editing rule you constantly break while writing a first draft?

Derrick Ferguson: I break 'em all. I don't a give a poobah's pizzle about any rule of editing or grammar when I'm writing that first draft. I'm telling the story to myself and just letting everything gush out in a white-hot blaze of pure storytelling.

Herika Raymer: Double space after period, train of thought writing (in other words it may not be coherent and probably terrible pacing), jumping from scene to scene, data dump, more showing than telling. Shall I go on?

Clint Hall: Telling. It's not that I try to tell instead of show, but if I can't immediately think of a great way to show, I'll just tell the reader (basically) whatever I want them to take away from the scene. Which leads nicely into...

Do you try to fix it right away, or do you save it for the first round of proof reading?

Clint Hall: Nope, I don't fix it right away. The first draft for me is about trying to get the story down. I'll come back and figure out the best way to show instead of tell in my second or third pass.

Bill Craig: If I see it I correct it the first time around. Then once the manuscript is complete I print it out and go through with a red pencil and find and mark typos and errors and then using the printed pages go back through the computer manuscript and go through and make corrections.

Derrick Ferguson: Nope. I never fix any errors right away. That's what the second and third drafts are for.

Herika Raymer: Depending on whether or not I am in a rhythm, I will usually try to fix it right away because it helps close any plot holes or fill in any gaps I may have unintentionally done. Afterwords, I will catch other editing mishaps on the beta read.

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.

What makes a horror book scary?

This week's roundtable is for READERS. (Or writers who double as readers in their spare time. What do mean, what's that?) As we move deeper into October and are rounding second base toward Halloween, let's talk scary.

What makes a book scary or creepy to you?

Blake Wilkie: It's all in the pacing and imagery in the descriptions. Like when a vampire bites someone. To say they just sink the fangs in doesn't work. Be descriptive. It it a slow indulging bite savoring the moment or a feral attack out of fierce hunger? Why is it one or the other? How does the bite feel to both involved, etc?

Danielle Piper: The scariest stories I've ever read were the ones that involved situations that could actually happen. I've seen far too much fantasy to be scared by it anymore. I despise authors who rehash something cool they saw in a movie or on TV, trying to steal a cool element they hope you're not familiar with already.

Janet Walden-West: As far as scary -- COULD it happen? Having been in close proximity to the Body Farm, zombies are the scariest thing ever.

Jim Comer: Dread. George Martin's Sandkings.

William D. Prystauk: I have never read a creepy or scary book. Yes, I've read horror, but it never resonates like a movie. Craven, King, Rice, and Nevill, have always fallen short.

Selah Janel: I like books that make me worry about whether the plot could happen to me or not. Even if it's outrageous, I want to suspend my belief long enough to be scared out of my mind by the possibilities. Ray Bradbury's story 'The Next in Line' is terrifying because it deals with the very real fears of death, claustrophobia, not being able to get out of a situation, plus the added element of a callous spouse. I cannot read this story without shuddering and seeing myself suffering from that sort of desperation and loneliness.

With stories that have elements of something supernatural or "other," I want to believe that there may be the faintest possibility that it could happen. It's why movies and books about possession are so terrifying - it's a concept that's so rooted in people's beliefs and faiths and deals with our most primal fears... plus, no matter how logical you try to be... what if it's real? What if it could happen to you and there's nothing you could do to stop it?

Herika Raymer: When a book explores things that could happen, that is what scares me. I prefer psychological thrillers, where the antagonist or monster is not completely shown, but there are plenty of stories where the monster is in plain sight that are just as chilling. I read alot of True Crime stories because of that, Ann Rule / Patricia Springer / Steve Jackson. Stories about pandemics that wipe out whole populations, as presented by Dean Koonz and Stephen King and a few others, those are creepy as well.

James Ritchey III: Scaryness. OH! And Creepyness. But seriously? By exploring stuff we're all creeped out by, and being smart about it. Psychological horror is ten times more effective than bending to genre stereotypes. Feral children and the amputation of hands freak me out, for instance. Three words for ya... Suspense, Suspense, Suspense -- THEN you rip the hapless victim's lungs out.

Joe Bonadonna: When it's in the realm of possibility.

What do writers try to do to make a book scary or creepy, but it just doesn't work for you?

William D. Prystauk: Atmosphere is what they seem to create most as well as characters you want to root for. However, I never feel a jolt. It's clear I need some compelling audio/video to move me along.

Jim Comer: Stephen King lost it somewhere.

Selah Janel: I think sometimes writers try to get a little too clever. It's a fine line -- I like detail, but if too many elements are thrown in together, sometimes it becomes a jumble or downright cartoonish. For example, I love a lot of Stephen King's titles. He's insanely good at what he does, a master. Misery is freaky because it's so possible, plus there's the isolation factor, and his short story N is one of the most terrifying things I've read in my life. However, they both share the fact that they're fairly linear stories that deal with one main problem or element. Annie Wilkes is the opposing force in Misery, and although N takes a little while to develop, there's no denying the tension as minds begin to unravel as the thing in the field is discovered.

Because those are so laser-focus and take their time, I tend to get frustrated with titles like IT and Rose Red. With IT, isn't it enough to have a killer clown? There is so much detail heaped in, that I can't even comprehend everything that's going on, and by the time IT's true nature is revealed I just...I don't know. It's not as scary to me as if it were just a weird clown chasing kids around trying to get them.  With Rose Red, there was so much buildup, so much amazing back story, that the ending almost fizzled. Parts of it gave me nightmares, but the ending pretty much ruined it for me because it was fairly tame in comparison. He's not the only one that's guilty of this -- a lot of horror writers try to cram in a lot, and then their endings have no hope of living up to expectations. Horror is walking a fine line as it is -- if you make things too over the top it can inadvertently trigger a humorous response, so writers have to be careful as to what their intentions with a story really are.

Herika Raymer: Splattergore. I do realize that making a story gory and visceral sells, but to me it is just gross. I have to have a story, not just blood and guts. In some cases, I prefer a story over blood and guts.

James Ritchey III: When they try to make it scary and creepy, but make it nonscary and noncreepy, instead -- by SUCKING as a writer -- by not thinking about what they're putting on the page.

Joe Bonadonna: Go for the jugular. When they want to be cerebral and miss hitting the emotions.

How much gore is too much, and does gore help you feel creeped out during a scary book?

Janet Walden-West: No such thing as too much as long as it moves the story.

William D. Prystauk: If gore is necessary to the story, so be it. However, gore itself does not lead to scary. However, if we love or hate the character, then the element of gore may take on a whole new meaning.

Jim Comer: No. Clive Barker.

Selah Janel: It depends. I generally am not a huge fan of gore, however, in some cases it's a necessity or definitely lends itself to a scene. Tom Hollands vampire transformation scenes in Lord of the Dead are grisly masterpieces that gave me a visceral reaction -- but he also took his time and built up to them so they conveyed a very real sense of danger.

The Sonja Blue series is a great example of how to do splatterpunk right. Nancy A. Collins immediately plunges the reader into a graphic nightmare and keeps them there, but is able to create empathetic characters to balance it out. Plus, her characters and world have reasons for being violent and graphic - Sonja isn't just part vampire or a slayer; she's ruled by the voices in her head and is obsessed with getting revenge on her accidental sire. These creatures play for keeps, so it makes sense to show every little detail.

I'm a huge fan of Clive Barker, because his gore works with his stories - but he also knows when to pull back. Stories like Rawhead Rex and The Midnight Meat Train do have their gross points, not gonna lie. But, those elements don't rule the whole story, so when you stumble upon them you almost have to re-read them to make sure you got that detail right. It's a punch in the stomach, a knock in the teeth. You realize "Oh my God, THAT'S what could happen!?" He plays those scenes absolutely right, otherwise the premises in each story could be too over-the-top or borderline cartoonish. He makes sure to play on people's visceral emotions and not just write another monster story.

Not every horror story needs gore, because not everything that scares us is about shedding blood. The Haunting of Hill House is a great example of subtle horror with a big pay-off. The first time I read this, I was totally confused as to whether the hauntings are real or in Eleanor's head... and either way, the thought of each is freaky as hell because of the way things are portrayed.

Herika Raymer: I guess it depends. On the one hand I read where Hannibal was eating his hunter's brains while the man was still alive and it creeped me out, usually I would just say 'ew' and move on. However, there was no explicit statement of blood and gore everywhere - I guess was got me was that it was clean. On the other hand I have read stories where a room decorated in splatter did creep me out, but those were mostly crime driven stories where the scenes were few and far between. I guess when gore is essentially on every other page, then I get desensitized to it. I do not want to 'be used to the gore', I want it to creep me out.

James Ritchey III: Between 15 and 25 percent gore are my only acceptable parameters--and that includes maiming, body horror and blood. Or more. I dunno--gore doesn't scare me. Read Vampire Junction for how to do it right.

Joe Bonadonna: Gore doesn't bother me, but it can get boring. Don't really need to know every little detail. Leave something to our imaginations.