Regarding Thrillers

Let us explore the genre Thriller. The only book I’d read before (that I recall) that could reasonably be called a ‘thriller’ is “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo”, but I didn’t read that as a thriller so much as a publishing phenomenom. I enjoyed it, and could see why it’s so popular: solid characters, rich descriptions, a convoluted but compelling plot (not to mention great packaging). That’s how I likes me novels, no matter what Christopher Hitchens says. But everybody has read that book already (and probably the next two, even if I haven’t), so it’s not really helpful for me to Regard it here. To that end, I recently picked up three paperback thrillers, essentially at random. Behold! My ‘first impressions’ description as I got through the opening of each one, with a little parenthesis of ending thoughts.

“Hour Game” (David Baldacci)

Two former Secret Service agents who apparently featured in a previous book pursue a serial killer who imitates other serial killers. Complicated rich family of The South recurs throughout. Sometimes told from the clouded perspective of the killer. (Dramatic lightning!)

“The Last Juror” (John Grisham)

A lawyer foils a serial killer, then lives in the town for a really long time. (It gets better?)

“The Alienist” (Caleb Carr)

 Young Teddy Roosevelt takes time off from enforcing the blue laws of New York City with an iron fist to investigate some mysterious killings with the help of an alienist, which is the olde-timey word for psychologist or profiler. I kept expecting a Lovecraftian horror to break out. (That would have been awesome.)

I judge every book by how much it makes me want to put it down and read Huck Finn, and there were some rough patches in these that tempted me. Heck, one of the books had one that tempted me to jump ship to Tom Sawyer, even. Still, all three were good in total, as one would expect from professionals. Not a waste of my time. Yet, the ANALYSIS:

Loads and Loads of Description

The thing that’s stuck in my mind is the sheer weight of description and info-dumping and just general scenery that’s in all these books, along with an adjective appended to almost every noun. This works much better than I would have expected, and I’d guess it’s because atmosphere is very important to the whole ‘thrill’ point. It never exceeds Hard SF descriptions, in any case. I’ll probably steal this technique and give it a try in works other than my Hard SF. We Shall Attempt ATMOSPHERE.

The First Rule of Thrillers

That being, apparently, that the serial killer must inevitably turn out to be whatever character I, David, liked the most. I presume that this is the universal law by which it is decided whether the book is a ‘thriller’ or ‘just a book with some killings in’. Whether that’s disturbing or just annoying is something I’ve decided not to spend too much time pondering. This is in direct contradiction to TV dramas of the CSI ilk, where the killer inevitably turns out to be the character I barely noticed. TV is dumb.

Dialogue

This was the major bone I had to pick (good image, eh?) with these thrillers. The dialogue blows. There are plenty of instances where the dialogue dragged me completely out of the story as I tried to work out how somebody would go about formulating one statement or another, and then saying it out loud. Since a major portion of my reading pleasure and writing joy is centered on dialogue...well, that’s a major problem. I don’t expect pithy dialogue festooning every page or scintillating wit emitting from every character orifice, but I need more than...well, than what I’m getting, which I got. Hard.

Serial Killers!

I do not like serial killers. I mean in general. I’m sure YOU’re nice. (Please don’t kill me.) I especially don’t like long lingering passages where the serial killer goes about describing how easy it is to be a serial killer and how unlikely it is that you aren’t doing something right now that makes you a target for a serial killer, and generally makes me nervous and twitchy. I know that I can be killed at any moment for any reason in this uncaring universe full of assholes. Stop reminding me, dammit. And for the record: I, being dead, could care less if you catch the particular asshole who killed me. As for the actual ‘thrill factor’ of following the serial killings, books full of them do not hold a candle to the shiver that goes up and down my spine everytime I recall this conclusion I came to one dark night while reading a medieval history:

There have always been serial killers; since the dawn of man, lurking, killing for reasons of their own, leaving a mutilated mystery behind and disappearing into the forest and the next village over. Yes, there have always been serial killers: It’s only now some of them get caught.

I have often thought that this would be an excellent opening for a novel, I’ve merely recoiled from actually writing that book. I’ll add it to the queue and let it percolate.

SUCK IT

Thrillers should not be written in the first person. That is all.

Reader Dave Doesn’t Like Mysteries

In an overall reading scheme that is more interested in characters than plot, it’s natural that I’m annoyed with a broad ‘reader-mystery’ when it interferes with my understanding of the characters’ reactions to the mystery. Obviously, a narrow ‘reader-mystery’ gets a pass. That’s suspense, and noble. Obviously, each of these thrillers had a broad reader-mystery and thus annoyed the heck out of me. To use illustrative examples from TV, these thrillers were plot-oriented ‘who-done-it?’ in the style of CSI or Law&Order:SVU or Criminal Minds (whatever franchise that’s attached to), whereas I prefer the character-oriented ‘how-catch-em?’, i.e. Columbo. More recent examples would be Flashpoint or (at least in the character-oriented sense) The Mentalist. You’re not watching Columbo or The Mentalist to solve the mystery per se, you’re in it to see what clever scheme Columbo or Jayne will concoct. In the latter case, the strong supporting characters hook in more interest. So, yes.

No Rereadability

All these characteristics together make it highly unlikely that I’ll ever read these books over again. When the only draw is the plot-mystery, and I know the mystery...well. I’m a person who reads books I like over and over again to tease out details. I suppose I could reverse-plot one of these thrillers. But it wouldn’t take that long.

Whatever, man. Just because it turns out my entire thriller experiment resulted in “I prefer it on TV” doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. I’ve written a whole article about Thrillers and nobody was lurking in the bushes ready to strike with-wait, what’s that?!? Oh NOOOooo...

[The queasy of stomach can here insert the Thriller music video and get the same effect]

gah

Writer's Circle

The Problem

Alternate Title: "Snape Takes a Gap Year"

I was watching “Spirited Away” for the hundreth time when I suddenly realized I have no friends. (Dude, harsh!) Well, I mean I don’t have any Writer friends. (Did I just say ‘dude’?) And by ‘friends’ I mean I don’t have any friends close by with whom I could, for instance, go to the pub and invent complicated elven languages or discourse on the invented worlds of yesteryear, while drinking. (Oh.) My point is, in Real Life, I have no Writer’s Circle. (What can be done?)

A side order of problem is that, well, sometimes I like not having a bunch of people sneaking around trying to talk to me. (I hate the phone.) I especially don’t like making special plans in advance to meet people. (Hate! I say.) The best case scenario would be to have a bunch of interesting people who live close by who I can meet by chance on those days when I deign to make an appearance out-of-doors. (In short, I want the world to revolve around me.) That seems fair.

The Target

I’ll start with a a fair test:

“I give you: religious the same respect as I give those fans of a television program that I, personally, do not enjoy, while at the same time recognizing that my fanatical devotion to Firefly has no intrinsic moral value. There is no real point to religion except to propogate ancient stories that in many cases have been topped by more or less ridiculous remakes. Yet, I’m not concerned with what you personally believe, except in cases such as this where you: religious feel the need to declare the unfounded tenets of your religion applicable to me or, as tonight, to my lady, who is cheerfully ignoring you while I discourse. Another beer.”

This is an actual transcription of an accidental recording (my writing mic having been left on) of my actual conversation with friends in a restaurant. First, yes, that’s how I actually talk, with colons in my speech and everything. Second, note that these are my friends. I long ago recalibrated the Filter to have only two settings: “On” and “Off” (there is a third setting, called “Girlfriend”, but that need not concern us here and it’s only used on special occasions).

“On” means I can say anything to you, thus I can say everything without being worried about you getting offended. This carries with it a reciprocal agreement, of course. I’ll listen to whatever bull you’ve decided to peddle today and give it my full attention. Fair’s fair.

“Off” means I evaluate every single word I say or write to you. You are not yet trustworthy enough to handle my creati-babble. Likewise, I’ll take very little foolishness in your speech before I wander off on some pretext (such as, when I’m not creative: “I’m going...over there.”) Going from Off to On pretty much takes you not being foolish while also you withstanding a few conversational gambits from me until you’re immunized to my madness. Beer helps this process immensely.

Fine, then. Perhaps you’ve passed the first hurdle. So who do I want in my Writer’s Circle?

writers

by which I mean ‘people who claim to write, but mostly complain about how they’re not writing and can never tell you what they’re working on’. They’re too depressing, and are prone to talking about their Real Job, which is even more depressing. Sometimes they have an MFA and one published story in a college journal five years ago. Sadly, the story is usually dense symbolist terrible or about a college master’s degree student who wants to have an affair with her professor (who turns out to be gay or a communist). Avaunt!

Writers

by which I mean ‘people who write as much or more as I do on a regular basis’...’and better’. That’s more like it! These people will throw ideas at you and see what bounces back. So long as everybody’s fair and follows either the ‘originator has first option’ or ‘idea story competition’ method of brainstorming, it works fine. Throwing accumulated piles of mental illnesses and defiltration together in the same room and seeing what happens when they mingle is fun.

Creatives

by which I mean...oh, you know what I mean. Artists and Musicians and Actors and such. Scientists and Computer Engineers can drop by too. Intellectuals? Good times.

Readers

by which I mean ‘people who are more broadly read than myself (but are not Writers)’, not ‘people who know my own stories better than I do’. They’ll recommend books and let me know if I’m being horribly unoriginal without any mitigating factors. It’s basically TV Tropes without the weirdly off-topic missing-the-point examples.

The Solution

Here’s the plan, and it’s a good enough plan, I think, because it’s divided into ‘phases’, which is a good planning word fraught with pre-planned portent.

Phase I Writer

I suck up the isolation for a bit and just write until I’ve got a large bookshelf. My ongoing goal of 100 distinct titles (mostly short stories) should be sufficient, although some of those should be books at that point. You should be able to get a physical copy of those books near the endpoint. Once I can put “author of [TITLE]” on my covers and be fairly confident some reader will be familiar with [TITLE], I’ll be a:

Phase II Writer

I’ll be focusing on writing books while my bookshelf rolls with the Internet times. While that’s happening, I can start Active Networking & Self-Improvement (ANSI), meaning starting to go to these workshops and conferences on a regular basis and meeting and talking with Writers et al. And so forth, as I continue building up my bookshelf and generally exploring the whole Business of Writing deal. Then I’ll be ready to be a:

Phase III Writer

doing ???

and then a:

Phase IV Writer

who is BIGGER THAN JESUS, baby. (wait, what? Where’d he go?)

The Plug (Hey...)

One day a manic-depressive man woke up and realized he was going to be a professional writer...but how? That question evolved over the course of two-hundred days of daily blogging until he found an answer that worked for him. Along the way came daily musings, life lessons, genre discussions, brain-storms of epic proportions and batshit insane dreams. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll laugh again, then you'll think as you live The First 200 Days for yourself.

Available at Smashwords and on the Kindle for a consideration.

THE END

until next week: “Regarding Thrillers”

This Space Reserved

...for article.

My Internet is broken beyond repair for the next couple of days, and I have to get ORGANIZED again. Lame.

So, yeah. Lame.