A Very Vampire Christmas

With the traditional vampire, writers know vampires’ relationship to Christianity.  Crosses and Holy Water make them shriek and back away because vampires are demonic evil.  

These days, that’s not necessarily always true.  In Tanya Huff’s series about vampire Henry Fitzroy, he pals around with priests, carries a crucifix, and is the most religious of all the characters because he has seen true evil and wants to protect others from it.  

Charlaine Harris’ Stookie Stackhouse stories tosses in a bit of religion, mainly Stookie’s, in with the vampires and werewolves.  One of Harris’ short stories shares the name with this article as Viking vampire Eric tries to figure out Christmas so he can please his human girl friend.

Fictional monsters come in all shapes and kinds with a moral spectrum from light to dark and everywhere in between as it fits the story and the genre, and readers and writers are fine with that.

Then there’s stories based on the Greek and Norse mythologies.  Here’s where things have been getting weird with some writers.  Most of the Greek myth-based stories I’ve read have ignored Christianity and focused on the secular aspects of the characters. 

Or, in the case of Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson series, people go to the afterlife they believe in.

However, some writers using the Norse stories have been making some strange choices.  I just finished a contemporary paranormal story where Norse gods were Catholic and celebrated Christmas!  

Then there’s a story where every warrior or strong soul, no matter their religion or ethnicity, are taken to Valhalla when they die so they can fight at Ragnorak which is the Norse Apocalypse.  This essentially denies the truth of any other religion.  

Does this mixing or ignoring of the most prominent current religions work?  Not for me because it was so shocking that it knocked me out of the story.  Your tolerance may vary.

But it does pose a serious question you should ask in your worldbuilding.  How does contemporary religion and readers’ faith affect your story?  

What Christmas Songs Can Teach a Writer

"You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch."  The only character more interesting than a villain is a villain who is redeemed.

"Oh, Holy Night.”  A powerful story is often best told simply.

"I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”  Sometimes, something innocent can become creepy.

"The Twelve Days of Christmas.”  A one-sided romantic relationship is boring.

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”  The underdog with a reviled talent makes a great hero.  

"Frosty the Snowman.”  A great character often deserves a sequel.  ("I'll be back again, some day." ) 

"Carol of the Bells.”  Driving rhythm can pull the reader forward.  

"Do You Hear What I Hear?"  You can tell a story through dialogue.

"Silent Night.”  A few simple images can create powerful emotions.

“Let It Snow, Let It Snow.”  The quiet, homey moments are often filled with the greatest emotions and memory.

"The Christmas Song.”  ("Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…." )  Setting alone can show strong emotion and story.

“I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.”  A fantasy plot makes much more sense with lots of details.  (“There's lots of room for him in our two-car garage.  I'd feed him there and wash him there and give him his massage.”)  NOTE: Best Christmas novelty song ever!

"Good King Wenceslas.”  Sometimes, a character is remembered more for kindness than power or glory.

"I'll Be Home For Christmas.”  Home and family are two of the most powerful goals within the human heart.  

"Baby, It's Cold Outside."  "This is for your good, not mine" is a great seduction.

“Is that You, Santa Claus?”  Every good thing may disguise a bad thing.

"Jingle Bells" and "Jingle Bell Rock.”  The times and tempo may change, but the story remains the same.  

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”  Sometimes, the character's emotions and the message aren't the same.  

"Santa Baby.”  With the right voice, even Santa and a chimney can be made into a double entendre.

“All I Want for Christmas Is You.”  Love is the greatest gift.  

Paragraph Lengths

QUESTION: I have trouble trying to figure out when to begin and end paragraphs and when to have dialogue included in the paragraph and when to have it stand on its own as an independent paragraph. 

Unlike nonfiction, there are no hard and fast rules for paragraphing in fiction.  Much of this is the writer's choice which is informed by experience as well as their need to emphasize certain things or break between actions.

And, surprisingly, some choices are as much visual as mental.  Most readers, these days, don't like long paragraphs so many writers paragraph more frequently than did past writers.  

Here are some good rules of thumb, though.

When you start with narrative followed by dialogue, the narrative should be about the person who will speak.

Adam studied the book's page then glanced back up at his friend.  "Pete, we have a problem here."

If the narrative was about Pete, Adam's line would be in a new paragraph.

Pete watched his friend anxiously as he read the rule book.

"We have a problem here,” Adam said.

If you have a long bit of narrative, it's usually a good stylistic choice to paragraph before the character's lines.  This breaks up the lines visually, and it also emphasizes the dialogue.

When you are writing a long speech by a character, you paragraph to emphasize subject, changes in subject, and the rhythm of the scene.

If you aren't sure about any of the above, read the dialogue aloud as the character would speak it.  Notice when you have natural pauses.  That's a good place for a paragraph break.

Dialogue shouldn't be too long, though.  Break it up with a bit of narrative. 

Adam shook his head in disgust and continued,

Or have other characters react or comment.  

"I can't believe Pete said that.  It doesn't sound like him."

For straight narrative with no dialogue, you should paragraph when the action shifts to another character.

Pete tripped but caught himself before falling flat on his face.  

Behind him, the sound of Adam's running feet moved toward him, then his friend stopped at his side. 

On the whole issue of paragraphing, don't be too uptight about it.

As long as the reader is clear about what is happening and the page isn't covered by long paragraphs, he won't even notice when you paragraph. 

Using a Letter in Narrative

QUESTION:  In my story, important information is revealed by a character reading a letter.  What is the most suitable way to write it?

I’ve written this kind of scene a number of ways.  

When the letter is being viewed by the viewpoint character and isn't terribly long, I've put the text in its entirety on the page but separated it from the regular text by having an extra space break above and below the letter and an inch-wide margins on both sides.  (The inch is from your normal margin, not from the paper’s edge.)  Some writers put this text in italics.

This method works particularly well when the content isn't highly emotional for the character.  It also works when the character is alone.

For longer letters, particularly those with emotionally charged content, I have a character read it aloud as dialogue to another character.  At certain important points where the character or characters are emotionally affected or the content changes things in a big way, I'll have the reading character stop and express an opinion, feelings, or questions.  A bit of dialogue/discussion between or among the characters will also break up a long monologue to make it easier for the reader to keep up and not be bored with too much information.  

When the character begins reading again, I say something like "Adam continued reading," or "Adam picked the letter up again and continued."

Normally, when a character quotes someone else, you use single quotes to denote it.

“Gramps always said, ‘You reap what you sow. boy.’”

If a character is quoting a letter, and the reader knows he is quoting it, you need only use standard double quotes.

Info Dumping and Modern Technology

I read a novel recently where characters researched other characters by using their smart phones to check out Facebook and search engines.

To a certain extent, this worked.  The information was given in a tidy manner without some character thinking about his past or offering too much information via dialogue, and, these days, it’s a very common way to check someone out so it was realistic.

On the other hand, the writer went overboard with this technique by giving too much time and attention to facts in a massive info dump at the very beginning and stalling the story for pages.  He also spoiled the reader’s fun of figuring out what makes this character tick and wondering about the dark hint some other character gives by mentioning the hero’s final Superbowl game.

Sure, the hero is a former NFL player, but the YouTube video of him accidentally killing another player during a tackle doesn’t have to be presented immediately if that information doesn’t inform the reader of what is happening at the present time.  Later, when the hero makes a comment about this moment changing his life, another character can watch the moment of YouTube.

Just because information is easy to find these days doesn’t mean that the reader needs all of it at the beginning of the story. 

No One To Talk To

After last week’s post on characters having conversations with themselves, I thought I’d talk about similar situations in my own writing.

In my novel, STAR-CROSSED, my hero had no one but the heroine to talk to in the first part of the novel.  To cover topics he wouldn’t discuss with her, I didn't want lots of internal monologue or flashbacks which tend to be boring.  

What I ended up doing was letting him have imaginary conversations with his best friend.  Since he was also stuck in one place, I put these conversations at interesting locations from their shared past that showed more about the hero and his past.

The first conversation, for example, was in a bar on a Wild West style planet where the two friends have rescued a sweet young thing during a bar fight.  The two characters shared a beer, talked a bit about the good ol' days, and the hero spilled his guts about what was bothering him.  

At other times, the best friend was the devil's advocate for one side of a choice that the hero was trying to make.  

If you do something like this, it needn't be as elaborate as an entire scene.  It could just be the mental presence of someone whose opinion the character either values or can't escape.  Most of us, for example, can hear our mom or dad in our head reminding us to do or not do something.  

I’ve also had a character talk things out aloud to a horse he was grooming or a cat she was stroking.  The animal’s actions, as if commenting with a purr, a snort, or the shake of the head, gave a nice light touch as well as making the scene more interesting than internal dialogue.

If you want the hero himself as the other character, you should choose some aspect of him you want to emphasize.  Say Dr. Indiana Jones--the scholar versus Indiana Jones--the adventurer.

Set up the use of the mental dialogue/scene fairly early in the novel or story so that the important scene when the character finally must make the big decision won't make the reader go "huh?" when the other side of his personality or an imaginary character shows up to discuss the matter.

In other words, have the mental character show up a few times so the hero can tell his other side to shut up or whatever.

Me, Myself, and That Jerk

QUESTION: I am trying to write a dialogue scene in which a character is arguing with himself yet it seems that there are two distinct persons talking, almost as if the good side of him is arguing with the bad side. What is a good way to show this?

You could do it like regular dialogue between two people.  The "real" character could give his better self some kind of snarky nickname which you could use as a dialogue tag.

Jon sneered at his other self.  "Why don't you shut up, Angel Fart. I stopped believing in virtue and nobility years ago."

"If you stopped believing, why am I here?"

Or you could do it like normal internal monologue but with the good Jon’s comments underlined/italics.

Jon fought to ignore his inner voice.  He knew what he had to do, and he'd do it.  He'd stopped believing in doing the right thing years ago.

If you stopped believing, why can you hear me?

Can You Say That in Elf?

QUESTION: I have several scenes where a man is around elves. I don't want to invent my own language, and I'm afraid to use Tolkien's elf language. What can I do?

You're right to avoid using Tolkien's language. I doubt Tolkien's estate would be too pleased about that.

The simplest way to write the scene without inserting the language is to use the viewpoint of someone who doesn't know the language. You can then write something like--

Adam listened to the two elves talking to each other. Their language sounded like the wind in dry oak leaves mixed with babbling creek water. 

Finally the elf who could speak English said, "Our king says we will not help you."

Or you can have the scene from the viewpoint of the elf who speaks English.

The king said in their own language, "I do not trust these humans. Tell them that I will not help them find passage through our mountains."

Mossbark nodded and said in English to the humans, "Our king will not help you."

These tips works with any language.

NOTE: I use the word “English” as a catchall, but you should use the term for whatever language your viewpoint character speaks.  

Pushing Humor Too Far

The mystery series was a cozy with a light tone and humorous moments, but the third book in the series started with the murder of the heroine’s closest friend and moved through the next days with sleuthing as well as the process of grieving for and burying someone you love.

I imagine most would agree that this situation is not a comedy waiting to happen.  Unfortunately, the writer was so desperate to bring the light tone in that she proceeded to add slapstick.  

At the family visitation, one of the heroine’s friends pretends to knee the heroine’s boyfriend, her heel breaks, and she really kicks him in the jewels.

The heroine receives a threatening phone call, then her bedroom door knob jiggles.  She slips as she reaches for a Taser and bangs her head, then, before she realizes it’s a cop friend, she shoots him as he enters her room and he slips banging his head.  They end up concussed together on the bed where her friend discovers them the next morning and has a fun time wondering what went on between the not-a-couple.

I could only shake my head during these scenes that so desperately tried to add humor to a situation that wasn’t funny.  Not only was the over-the-top-to-the-point-of-ridiculous humor displaced, it tried so hard that the book fell apart.  

Moments like this are what trusted critique partners, beta readers, and good editors are all about.  They should have told the writer that sometimes a light tone just doesn’t fit the situation, and that poor taste and slapstick have no place in certain situations.  

How can you judge this with your own writing?  Think of your novel as a movie.  If you are writing a mystery movie full of dark atmosphere and duplicitous suspects, a scene from DUMB AND DUMBER just won’t  fit, will it?  A light moment of character revelation or a funny story about a victim would.  

Stay true to the tone that’s needed and listen to your early readers.  That’s more important than trying to maintain the tone of the series.  If not staying true bothers you, then find another plot that will fit that tone. 

Creating Witty Dialogue

Witty dialogue is found in most Regency romances, and the comedies of Shakespeare are rife with word plays and banter between clever characters, but it also has a place in other writing.

Put two clever characters with a sense of fun together and let them at each other so they duel with words, and the reader is in for a treat that requires as much attention to the word play as the characters must pay.

This is from an unpublished contemporary novel.

"You have the tail of an ass," Ariel said. 

David raised one eyebrow haughtily. "Women have told me I have a nice ass, but not one has mentioned a tail." 

"They told tales." 

"I am happy you are named for the sprite Ariel and not Puck. I could wake up with the head of an ass." 

“Don't toss Shakespeare at me, amateur, or speak of Bottom. Why change your head into an ass? It would be redundant since you act like one already." 

Witty dialogue, particularly in a romance, is emotional and personal foreplay.  It reinforces a sense that these people “get” each other and are equals emotionally and intellectually.  

Outside of romance, the most surprising and common use of witty dialogue is between the hero and the villain who also “get” each other.

Dueling with words can be just as much fun for the characters and the reader as dueling with swords, and just as dangerous.

Playing Against Type for Humor

Another type of humor that works well in fiction is having a character forced to pretend to be the exact opposite of what he is.  

The prissy heroine may don dirty jeans and boots and do an earthy cowgirl impression to impress a potential client.  This scene pushes the character out of her comfort zone as well as allowing her to see her own ridiculousness in both roles.  

If you can play against type as well as situation, you can give the reader a double treat.

In this scene from an unpublished novel, two heterosexual alpha males are escaping from a hospital although one of them is so badly hurt he should be admitted, not leave, and he had come into the hospital to kill someone so the situation is twisted, as well, into irony, another humor element.

Cole and Daniel staggered into the sanctuary of the empty elevator, and Cole hit the lobby button with his elbow.  

When the door closed, he let Daniel slump against his chest, and he held him up with both arms.  Daniel's legs buckled completely, but Cole was afraid to tighten his hold for fear of the fractured ribs.

 The elevator clicked, and a light came on above the door.

"Oh, lord.  We have company," Cole said.

Daniel tried to straighten his legs, but they bowed like a drunken cowboy's. 

"Stay where you are."  Cole pulled him back up. "And for Pete's sake, hide that famous face of yours, darling." 

Tittering drunkenly, Daniel buried his face in Cole's blond hair, then nuzzled his ear, his arms snaking around Cole's waist and neck. 

"Don't be fresh," Cole muttered as the door opened at three.  

A well-dressed, middle-aged couple walked in. 

"Hello," Cole gushed cloyingly and grinned, careful to keep his own famous face in shadow. 

When the graying matron saw the two men in intimate embrace, she backed into the already closed door. 

Cole purred proudly, "We're being married tomorrow." 

The gentleman shoved the next floor's button instead of the main floor. 

Cole fought to keep a straight face and Daniel on his feet. 

The elevator door opened, and the couple rushed out. 

"Damn, they've left," Cole complained. "I wanted to invite them to the wedding." 

"What will Penn and Lylah say?  They don't even know we're dating.”

Cole's laughter got them through the lobby and outside the hospital.  

Using Misunderstandings as Humor

I have never written strictly comic stories, my writing tends toward darker or more serious stories, but I like to add comic elements.  These elements are situational, not in the sense of a situation comedy filled with punch lines, but the humor lies in the situation.  

Humor changes the pace of the story, can reflect on what is happening, or gives the reader another side of a character.

One type of humorous scene has one character totally misunderstanding or not having the right information in a situation.  

This example is from an unpublished category romance of mine called COURTING DISASTER.  The hero and heroine work at the same sporting goods store during the Christmas rush, and they’ve finished a full day of work.  They chat in the parking lot at their cars.  Cody is very interested in Maggie, but she’s not interested in any man because she wants to remain true to her late husband.  For the first time, she’s beginning to see that maybe this isn’t quite as easy a life decision as she thought.  

The punchline for this misunderstanding is that Molly is Cody’s golden retriever puppy, but Maggie doesn’t know this.  The reader is in on this joke because Molly was in an earlier scene with Cody. 

Cody sighed loudly.  "On a night like tonight, I'm glad I don't have to go home to an empty house.  Nothing’s worse than an empty house and a dinner for one.”

Maggie’s heart twitched more painfully than her feet.  That was exactly what was waiting for her.  An empty house.  “You have a housemate?”

"No.  I was talking about Molly."  They stopped by Maggie's car, and Cody grinned inanely.  "I must admit Molly turns me into a pile of mush when I'm around her.  I never expected to be as crazy over her as I am.”

Cold settled in Maggie's heart.  "That's nice." 

"I really miss her when I'm working.  I promised her I'd spend tomorrow morning with her.  I can already guess what will happen.  She'll curl up against me in bed early tomorrow morning, rest her head on my chest, and stare at me with those big brown eyes until I wake up.”

Vivid images flashed through Maggie's head.  A beautiful woman naked against Cody, her head resting on his magnificent bare chest--he probably had curly auburn hair on it--and he'd..., and she'd...  Maggie fumbled for her keys in her purse, her head down to hide embarrassment and envy.

"Later, we'll go for a run in the woods and find some fallen leaves to play in.  She loves fallen leaves.  We'll play in the leaves, then I'll scratch her tummy, and her tail will really wiggle.  Then we'll snuggle."

Considerably more than her tail would wiggle if he scratched her tummy.  But she didn't want her tummy scratched!  Not by him, not by anybody.  She was an adult, she was Jeff's widow, she was....  She was jealous of Molly.  

Flustered by that knowledge, Maggie unlocked her car door.  "Well, have a nice day off."

"I intend to." 

I didn’t want the reader to think Cody was deliberately fooling Maggie about Molly’s identity so I had him tell her about his puppy earlier although he failed to mention her name which was an honest omission on his part, not a mean joke.

I also didn’t want Maggie to be an idiot about this mistake so I let her realize her error a few paragraphs later when Cody shows her the new collar he got for Molly.  This also allows her to question her own feelings about Cody and her determined decision to remain a widow.  

To make this light moment more than a throw-away joke, I made Molly an integral part of the plot through the novel.  

For a light moment to work in a novel, it should never be a throw-away joke.