Author Archives: Kim May

What’s the highest setting on your conflict dial? 7? 8? 11?

Spinal Tap may have been a bunch of drugged out wankers but they had a point. There are times when it’s a moral imperative to turn it up to 11. And yet so many writers don’t. They’ll either leave the dial at whatever preset the assembly line monkey chose or they’ll turn it up to 8 thinking they’re being daring.

Perhaps they are. Perhaps they’re a delicate flower and 8 is further than they would normally dare to go. Good for them. Or perhaps 8 is exactly what the scene calls for. Some conflicts don’t need to be turned up to Abercrombie levels of violence. However that doesn’t mean authors can leave the dial alone.

Escalating a conflict doesn’t mean that characters have to pull out grenade launchers and start WWIII. I’m never disappointed when they do but that’s a personal preference. Escalating the conflict could be as simple as turning up the dial on an argument from heated discussion to shouting match before finally dropping the bomb of “I can’t believe you said that!”. Yet so many new writers don’t. Why is that?

Besides the obvious answers of inexperience and and timidity, I think it’s because we, as a society, are afraid of conflict. In school, business, and society we’re encouraged to hold back that angry comment, don’t punch the rude jerk (even though they deserve it), and above all don’t lose your temper. Altercations should be avoided even if containing our fury gives us a perpetual twitch.

It’s so ingrained that we unconsciously hold back. Well, you know what? It’s okay to get angry.

Conflicts in a story are more than a source of action and tension. It gives characters a reason to grow, to act, and to learn. The more intense the situation, the harder they have to work to survive it. So when an author pulls their punches on the page, whether literally or metaphorically, they’re not just cheating the reader. They’re cheating the character.

Unfortunately it’s not a situation where there’s a clear cut solution or a standardized unit of measure. Some dials have to be turned further than others. But the important thing to remember is to ask yourself “Can I take this further and if so, would the story be better if I did?” If you don’t feel you can be an impartial judge then ask your beta readers what they think. Because if it can and does than by all means, turn that dial.

Gambling With the Guidelines

March 26, 2015

Kim May

Craft & Skills Kim May Publishing Submissions No Comments

Short story submission guidelines can sometimes look like a laundry list of Thou Shalt Nots. Thou shalt not write longer than the longest long that we can brain…Thou shalt not have more blood splatter than a Quentin Tarantino movie…Thou shalt not profane the Flying Spaghetti Monster…Thou shalt not write about clowns eating pudding…

Most of these are pretty solid rules but some can be skirted and occasionally — if you’re willing to take the risk — you can ignore one or two entirely. How can you tell which are which? Well when in doubt abide by the rules. This isn’t something that a novice should try. When gambles like this pay off it’s usually because the writing is so good that the editor is willing to overlook the disregard. And as I said, most of the guidelines should be obeyed regardless.

For example, when editors say they don’t want to read a story based on your favorite D&D campaign or one that has enough sex and profanity to make Howard Stern blush, they mean it. The former they see often enough to go into convulsions at the mere mention of it and the latter they can’t publish because it would offend their target audience. They know what their audience better than we do so it’s best to take their word on it.

Word counts on the other hand can be a little more flexible. Magazine and anthology editors know how many words fit on a page and how many pages the budget will allow. They also have an idea of how many stories they would like to fill those pages with. If your story is a slightly under the minimum count, you can still submit it without too much fuss. Every editor that I know prefers too short to too long. Especially since it gives them breathing room for the other submissions. That being said, if you’re over the word limit you’re better off shaving those excess words. It’s hard to write short and few can do it well so it’s not a good idea to assume that there will be a story that’s short the exact number of words needed to accommodate yours. Plus some editors won’t read anything over the maximum because they don’t want to fall in love with a story they can’t buy.

One of the less clearcut gambles lies in the domain of themed anthologies. Say an editor is putting together a collection of stories about magical flying red pandas (because who doesn’t love red pandas?) and they want them in the style of Mr. Rainbow McSweetandfluffy. The best thing to do would be to write exactly that. However, if Sweetandfluffy isn’t your thing but Ms. Dark McThrilling is you could submit that in the hope that the editor decides that your story is exactly what the anthology needs to prevent the readers from going into diabetic shock. But then again, they might not.

This kind of gamble is similar to investing in the stock market. You may lose on your investment at first but if you stay the course you might make a profit months or years in the future. The editor might pass on your McThrilling because they really do want only Sweetandfluffy. But if they need McThrilling-style stories for a different project they might invite you to write for that instead. There’s no guarantee that they’ll buy it but it does mean that the gamble paid off. The editor wouldn’t have invited you if your red panda story didn’t make a good impression. Of course there’s that pesky if. Make the wrong impression and there won’t be an invitation.

Whether it’s wise to gamble is up to you. I’ve had mixed success but that’s the way of it.

The Pleasure of Pain

February 13, 2015

Kim May

Character Kim May Storyline 2 Comments

Cupid is dead. The perfect relationship doesn’t exist. There is no happily ever after and while love can bring a lot of joy, it often brings just as much pain. Sometimes more.

“How can you say that?! It’s almost Valentines day!”

“Preach it, sister!”

“You’re just say that because you’ve never been in love.”

“Gee, someone is jaded.”

Did you find yourself saying one or more of these? If you picked #2 you get a cyber fist bump. If you picked one of the others than you need to be slapped with a herring because the Dread Pirate Roberts was right when he said that “life is pain.”

Every relationship has it’s bumps and bruised egos, it’s disagreements and arguments about how to properly hang a fly swatter (What? You haven’t argued about that?), and every now and again a tragic ending. (Though, if you’re Nicholas Sparks, every romance is tragic.) So if you want your character’s romance to feel real to readers you need to be a sadist. You need to inflict pain on your imaginary lovers.

I know it sounds a bit Greek to stipulate that something has to go horribly wrong in order for the story to be right. And depending on where you are in your authorial journey this may not be an easy concept to grasp. But think about it. Have you ever had a significant other that said or did something that hurt your feelings? Did they lie to your face? Have they cheated on you or betrayed your trust in some other way? Did they incur debt in your name? Or far worse, were you emotionally, psychologically, or physically abused? If you haven’t suffered the more grievous of these, I’m glad, though I suspect that you may know someone who has. Statistics make is likely, unfortunately. And let’s not forget that we’re just as capable of committing offense as our partner.

It’s one of the certainties of life that every now and then there will be some difficulty that you and your partner will have to work through if you’re going to continue to be a couple. Because of that readers, either consciously or unconsciously, expect fictional couples to do the same. Though there is a deeper reason for it.

The truth is, the Greeks were on to something. Observing the life of someone whose experiences are more painful than yours is satisfying. It gives us hope and strength. If these fictional people can muster the courage, forgiveness, and whatever else to work out their differences, learn from mistakes, and become happier more functional couples by the end of the tale than so can we. Especially if our trials aren’t as bad. If they are as bad, the same affect can be seen. It’s not quite the same as schadenfreude; though if the tale is comedic that can certainly be the case. In fact, The Bridget Jones books and films like How to Lose a Guy in 10 days prove that disfunction can be entertaining and moving at the same time.

Making our characters suffer can be hard. Oh who am I kidding. It’s a lot of fun! Bring on the pain! *cracks whip*

Oh, sure if you’re a really nice person or new to the craft it can be hard but eventually you’ll get comfortable with it. It doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re not torturing real people so stop expecting the NSA to offer you a position at their new secret interrogation facility. (They’re fully staffed. I’ve checked.) It’s our duty as writers to make the worlds and characters we create as real as possible we can’t do that if we only include the good. The sad and tragic need to be present as well and that goes double for matters of the heart.

When Being Likable Isn’t Enough

January 19, 2015

Kim May

Character Kim May POV No Comments

I’m one of those people that read for the character. Give me someone I can cheer for or fall in love with and I’ll follow their journey to the end. However there is one trait that will make me throw the book across the room and use it for skeet. Passive POV characters. By that I mean characters that aren’t proactive. They don’t act, they react.

The literati call them anti-heroes, some people call them anti-protagonists, I’ve even heard them called Bella Swan. But a passive character by any other name would become as skeet, or something like that. There are personal reasons for my dislike that I won’t go into but the simple explanation is that I prefer characters that actively pursue their goal(s).

I realize that there are quite a few classics and bestsellers that contain anti-heroes and were well recieved. Some even became national bestsellers. That’s okay. I have no intention of being like the film critics that panned Star Wars. Like I said, it’s a personal dislike. As much as I hate to admit it, there are ways to include passive POVs and make it work to your advantage or at the very least keep readers like me engaged in the story.

1) This is more of an advantage than a tip but I feel that it’s important enough to list first. Since most novels center around an active character, simply writing from a passive POV will make your work stand out from the pack. No one will be able to accuse you of picking low hanging fruit. Though, be forewarned that standing out doesn’t always give you an advantage. If the plot is weak or the setting lackluster or the pacing too slow, the reader may still find the story skeet worthy.

2) Make the setting and/or plot so interesting that the reader doesn’t notice or care that the viewpoint character is passive. I know it’s a bit of a cheat but it really does work. If you haven’t read Pierce Brown’s Red Rising, go read it. It’s really well written and perhaps the best modern example of a well written passive main character. It’s definitely a work worth studying. I couldn’t finish the book because of passivity but the fascinating setting and gripping conflict saved it from being thrown across the room. I know, it sounds weird recommending a book that I never finished. Passive POVs annoy me that much. The setting and conflict kept me reading much longer than I would have otherwise so it does work.

3) A turning point. If you bring your passive character to a point where they have no choice but to become proactive, that can give readers a reason to reconsider pitching. However, the timing on this is very tricky because every reader is going to have a different throwing point. I would advise placing it earlier rather than later, but again, that’s subjective.

4) Kill them! Yes, I’m a little blood thirsty but this really can work. For example, if their passive nature is the cause of their death it can be the inciting incident that a more proactive POV character needs to step up and change the world. It also gives readers like me a wonderful feeling of satisfaction.

5) Make their passive nature an act or ploy in order to manipulate the other characters. The Scarlet Pimpernel books by Baroness Orczy are great examples of this. In public, Percy was a useless fop that didn’t give one whit about politics, social injustice, or anything else that didn’t come from a good tailor. In private, he was the mastermind behind the rescue of hundreds of innocent aristocrats during the French Revolution. The ploy of passivity kept him from falling under suspicion and allowed him to gain valuable intelligence. Plus, because the reader knows it’s an act, it makes the passive behavior more tolerable.

6) Pass the torch. In some ways this is a variation of rule 4. But if you loathe to kill your darlings you can have them retreat to the shadows in cowardice and charge a more active character to take up the cause.

If you know of other ways to make this work or have a reading suggestion where any or all of these techniques were used well, feel free to post them in the comments.