Debi Alper
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Oooh, this has made my antenna twitch, Katie. It looks like a psychological thriller to me. Thrillers don’t have to be crime novels but can be about a struggle against coercive control, and that’s what it seems you have here. On last week’s intro thread, you described the genre as *psychological suspense novel with elements of speculative fiction and folk horror*. I can’t see the speculative element in the exercise. What am I missing? I also wonder about the use of the word *folk* and would love it if you could expand on that, so I can get a firm grasp on what this story is.
One thing is for sure: it definitely is dark. (I like dark!) There are many people who, like you, have a fascination with cults: the figureheads; who they target; the psychological manipulation; how the brainwashing works etc. Research is essential and there’s plenty of material to draw on, as you’ve found. I wouldn’t worry about doing too much non-fiction research, though I can understand you avoiding novels which cover similar territory. Using factual info to ensure authenticity is not the same as copying a work of fiction. It’s research, not plagiarism.
I love the twist of the resolution – no happy-ever-after ending here. You’re right to think this will divide the crowd but it will certainly get people talking. I said over on one of the other threads that it’s better for our stories to be either loved or hated than to be met with a shrug and a *meh*. Whenever there are lists of the nation’s most loved and most hated books, the same titles inevitably appear in both lists. You could even twist the knife even more by ending with Mary welcoming another newcomer into the fold. That will give us the feeling of the story continuing on after we turn the last page. I do wonder if there are any lighter moments in the story though. There don’t necessarily have to be – Gillian Flynn (fellow fan here) specialises in intensely dark and compelling stories, and their enduring popularity shows that there is an appetite for this kind of novel. The timing could be good for you too. When Covid first hit, everyone was looking for escapist stories. Romance did particularly well and cosy crime came into its own. But enough time has passed now for new novels to appeal to fans of noir fiction.
A few questions occur to me. Do we ever root for Mary? You’ve turned her arc on its head. Instead of the traditional trajectory of a character becoming more empowered as they move through the story, she becomes more and more trapped, never escaping. How do you want the reader to feel about that? Sad for the loss of the person she could have potentially have been if she hadn’t been sucked into the institution? If so, I wonder if we should have seen more of her before she gets there. Why was she so isolated? Is her controlling mother to blame? I like the parallel themes about mothers and daughters, with the matriarchal set-up of the wellness centre, but I do wonder what made her mother act in the way she did. What’s driving Ida? Who profits from the wellness centre? For what purpose? Is it purely a money-making scheme, profiting from young women’s vulnerability?
In your replies, I can see some areas where it looks like you’re equivocating: *I’ve been telling myself it’s okay not to name these things as their world is murky and specific details/truth are hard to pin down, so I’m not sure…* … *I have varying capacity for understanding Mary throughout the story so I’m not even sure how I feel(!)* … and
re her pain condition: *I’m unsure how much specific detail I’m willing to put in at the moment.* I can see you nervously eyeing this stuff from the corner of your eye. You know it’s there and it matters, but you can’t yet face it because you know it’s going to be hard.OK – I’m going to be brutal here, so please take a deep breath. If you’re going to write a dark story – and I think this one is demanding that you do write it – you have to commit. You might choose to deliberately withhold some details from the reader – but that has to be a clear authorial choice, which you can justify because the story works better that way. I do think that *you* need to know what this world is, what drives Mary, how her condition manifests and what it is caused by etc. And remember that Mary isn’t you. Boost your confidence (we’re here to help with that) and go for it. No holding back.
Anyway, you have loads of juicy themes and moral dilemmas – the sorts of things that make a novel ideal for discussion in book groups – especially with that twisty ending. I really think you’re onto something here, so I’ll move onto the opening chapters now.
Chapter 1 – you start with Mary’s mother having hidden the acceptance letter. On the face of it, this could be with good intentions. She might genuinely suspect (and she would turn out to be right) that going there won’t be in Mary’s best interests. Why does she now decide to reveal it? Mary obviously had reasons for seeking to change her life if she applied for a place at the centre. You’ve put an asterisk beside her cycling (not literally) through the past few weeks and I’m guessing this is you highlighting something you’ve realised after reading the tutorial – that you move into back story very early on. The promise made about us seeing her arrriving at the centre is on hold. I do think this needs thinking about. Might it be worth starting earlier, thereby removing the timeline distortion? The advantage is that we would see her as a character-in-action, understanding what her life consists of and why she’s so desperate to change it, before she starts making that change. That would also mean showing how she deals with her pain condition and how it impacts on her daily life.
Chapter 2 sees her arriving at the centre and struggling to fit in. The chapter ends with her feeling comforted by knowing she’s not the only one there to feel lonely and isolated. That doesn’t sound like a compelling hook to end the chapter on, though I could well be wrong.
Chapter 3 – Mary is finding it hard to adapt to her surroundings but she won’t consider going home either. Again, I wonder if her mother has her best interests at heart. Does she want her to come home because she knows she’s at risk and vulnerable? Or is she a control freak, and Mary needs to get away from her? Is Mary being self-destructive by cutting off contact? What has made her this way? What feelings do you want to evoke for the reader? Can we trust Mary’s judgement? Do we want the same things for her as she wants for herself? Sorry for firing off all the questions. They’re a sign that I’m really intrigued by Mary and want to know whether or not she’s reliable.
Chapter 4 – Mary is getting sucked in. It’s clear that she really does need help to change her life, or she wouldn’t be there. Are there hints that the process of the so-called cure is sinister? She’s still not comfortable with the others there, so there hasn’t been much change for her yet, as far as I can see.
Chapter 5 – we now meet Ida as the matriarchal figure and see a darker side to Mary. She’s owning her isolation and doing something transgressive and secretive. She’s also committing to the programme but if this is her first action after buying into it, we will already suspect that it’s not taking her in a healthy direction.
There’s so much to admire here, Katie. I do think you’ve been holding back though. Next week’s session on character will be really important, I reckon. Meanwhile, do have a think about how and where to start the story. This is a great intro to your WIP though. It has lots going for it.
Hi Anja. I have the feeling you’ve really enjoyed creating this story and these characters. That’s good news in itself as enthusiasm is often infectious. If you enjoyed writing the novel, there’s a good chance people will enjoy reading it. It looks like an escapist, entertaining story, which is not intended to be taken too seriously. There’s always a demand for stories like that.
When you introduced yourself last week on the welcome video thread, you said you’re writing a romantic adventure, describing it as ‘supposedly a dead genre’. I asked why you thought that, but you didn’t reply, so we can continue the conversation here instead. Romance will never go out of fashion and there will always be a wide readership for books in this commercial and very popular genre. And many romance novels have elements of other genres, including crime, hist fic and even fantasy. In fact, there’s now a specific genre known as romantasy, which is doing very well right now. So the concept of a romantic adventure is not at all dead. The difference with your WIP is that the main character is a man, and the demographic of readers of romance is almost overwhelmingly women, and they’re more likely to identify with a female protagonist.
That’s not the only way you’re subverting the genre. I do have to say that Wendall’s possessive and controlling mother sounds like she carries the risk of being a stereotype. Yes, we all know that such women exist but you will need to add some depth to her, I think. After all, many of your target readers will be women of her age and they could be alienated if she comes over as too much of a cliché. Giving her some vulnerabilities could make all the difference. Perhaps we can feel sorry for her, while also critical of the limitations she’s putting on her son’s life. Is she scared to be alone? If he ends the story determined to win his girlfriend back, where does that leave her? If she’s left bewildered and lost, are we supposed to still celebrate him asserting his right to own his own destiny? Might it be worth finding a way for her to redeem herself and also find a way to be happy without the suffocation of her unhealthy relationship with her son? I see you thought about having that possibility in a sequel but I’m wondering if we should have it in this book. Happy to discuss that, if it would help.
I see that your insightful coursemates (what a good group this is!) have homed in on the apparent identity change of the story partway through. I agree. The whole plot revolving around the Russians shifts the genre to an international thriller. It will be a challenge for readers to overcome the leap of faith required to buy into the scenario of a down-trodden country pharmacist getting wrapped up with a secret Russian lab and being perceived by them as a genuine threat. You’ve ackowledged this yourself in response to your coursemates’ astute questions. I would also point out that there’s no connection to the romance thread here, as far as I can see. It might work if the genre is closer to a comedy caper with romance elements, rather than putting the emphasis on *romanctic* adventure. This comes down to the core identity of the story you want to write – and only you can decide that.
A couple of other points. He and his mother go to a travel agent. Given that travel and bookings are all online these days, I wonder when the story is set. Oh – and, incidentally, we need to have spoilers in the group. We’re not your readers in this context, but your editors. We can’t help you to self-edit if we don’t have the full picture. You need to trust us!
Now to the biggest question about the structure: your decision to use a parallel timeline. I can see lots of people saying they think this will work well, so now I’m going to swoop in like the evil witch and question this decision. But before I do, I need to say this as loudly and clearly as I can. You said in a comment: *If our teachers say it’ll work better in a linear chronological order, I will reconsider.* That’s not how it works! There’s no way I would tell you to make such a radical change. This is your book, not mine. All I do is raise questions to get you thinking. I can point out the potential consequences of making a certain choice. But I can’t – and never would – tell you what to do. My role is to empower and equip you to make your own decisions, having considered the pros and cons of different possibilities.
Right, having said that, here are my thoughts. I would like to ask your reasons for using the parallel timeline. You’ve said you *felt the need to do it this way* but I want to push you to come up with a more concrete reason why it feels better to you. It’s a very big decision not to stick to a linear chronology and you need to be sure that the story will work better this way. A vague feeling is fine for a first draft, where you’re allowing the story to spill out without analysing it, but once you get to the self-editing stage, you need to be able to justify anything like this. Be strict with yourself and ask yourself the hard questions. That way, even if you do ultimately decide to go with the current structure, it will be an informed decision. Oh – and if you do go with the current structure, this will need to be reflected in the synopsis. That way, it wouldn’t appear that the story’s identity radically changes at a late stage. Assuming you do decide to maintain the parallel timelines, you will need to think carefully about the balance between the two and the way you link in and out. Is there any pattern as to how and when you switch between them? There isn’t one in the opening chapters from what I can see, as the first three and the fifth are all in the earlier timeline.
One last thing before I get down to the detail of the opening chapters, *where you start, what happens, where you end up* applies to any scene, whether it’s set in an earlier timeline or not. It’s not applicable only to a linear structure. Every scene, no matter which timeline it’s set in, needs to fulfil the need to push the narrative forwards, which is what the narrative triangle pins down.
Now for those chapters.
Chapter 1 – the meet-cute between Wendell and Alex is adorable. There’s an instant spark and we’ll definitely be rooting for these two to end up together. I love the gentle humour of the B&B being the garden shed. If the story is a rom-com, this would be the perfect opening.
Chapter 2 – we see his mother’s controlling nature and it’s clear that she’s the biggest obstacle he has to overcome in his pursuit of love and happiness.
Chapter 3 – we now have all three main characters together. Alex is working on Wendall’s behalf, trying to win his mother over.
Chapter 4 leaps forwards and this is the first time we see a different timeline. Please remember that this is just my opinion, but I do think this will be hard to pull off. We’re invested in Wendell and Alex overcoming Mother’s machinations and now we’re pulled away to a different time and place. Wendell’s attention is now on heroically saving the life of a ‘pretty young female’. She’s also a birder, meaning she and Wendall have something in common. Meanwhile, Alex is no longer on the scene. This feels to me to be disjointed and it will be hard to carry the reader with you – but you may have pulled it off! Can I ask what the function of this chapter is? If it’s to show how proactive Wendall can be when his mother’s off the scene, there could be plenty of ways to do that in the earlier timeline. NB: I’m not saying it can’t work, but I am challenging you to justify it – to yourself, not to me.
Chapter 5 – we’re back with the dropped thread – and I suspect this is where the reader wants to be. There’s some delicious instability here and I love the way these three characters have different agendas. We will definitely be rooting for Wendall and Alex to overcome the odds and get together.
There’s a lot to like here, Anja. The two big questions revolve around whether this is a rom-com or a comic thriller caper, and the parallel timelines. I’m more than happy to carry on with this conversation.
Hi Gill. We often find strange synchronicity in our groups. What are the odds of having two people who emigrated from Zimbabwe, so many South Londoners, or three ex-teachers? And this coincidence is closer to home for me because my novels are also set in the South London alternative political scene (you and I both used to live in Peckham) and my third book features an undercover cop infiltrating the group. Your story is set in Thatcher’s 80s, whereas mine are set at the time they were written, early in the millennium, but there’s a lot in your WIP that resonates for me on the personal level. I’m going to have to take extra care not to impose my vision on your story. I do wonder if our paths have ever crossed though …
I see the topic of genre has come up, so I’ll talk about that first. You said it’s: *neither a straight psychological thriller, nor a police procedural nor cosy crime.* It’s definitely not police procedural because the story belongs more to Laura than it does to a character who’s an investigating cop, solving a crime. And there’s absolutely nothing cosy about the concept! I’d say political thriller, or psychological thriller, but that does mean that you’ll need to sustain the building jeopardy associated with a thriller.
It looks like Mike is a sympathetic character. That’s fascinating. His whole identity is based on lying to the people he’s ensured he’s close to. Success, for him, would be betrayal for them. Falling in love with Laura and making her pregnant also constitutes a betrayal of his wife and children. This immersive double life makes for a rich and complex character. There’s a vast gap between the face he shows to the other characters and his internal landscape. That’s fertile territory to explore in a novel. The real antagonist is Harry – Laura’s abusive and controlling father. Laura, of course, is the protagonist. As the daughter of a top cop, she may have found it hard initially for her fellow activists to trust her. Her politics would also have been an act of rebellion against her father. Are they estranged? When did she last see him? I wonder why Harry would choose blackmail, rather than having the same agenda as Mike and his colleagues. Who was he planning to blackmail, and why? He’s certainly a wrong ‘un in every sense. He sexually abused his daughter; he’s corrupt and uses his status and power for his own ends; he’s happy to throw a colleague under the bus, thereby endangering Mike’s life, as well as his mission. Ultimately, of course, it turns out that he’s a murderer.
I’m not sure about the ending, though you may have simply run out of words to fit the tight word count. Laura gets the evidence against her father, but is he arrested and held to account for his multiple crimes? I’ve read your reply to Paula and see you’re unsure. While you’re right to say he’d probably get away with it in real life, I don’t think readers will find it easy to forgive that happening in a crime thriller. The consequences for Laura would be devastating. Her whole motivation has been for him to be punished for abusing her as a child – and he’s committed equally heinous crimes since. I can’t see a peak to your narrative arc. Is there a final confrontation between them? A point at which everything could succeed or fail and the stakes are at their highest? I don’t think that hints that he *might* be brought to justice after the story ends are enough. We want the man to suffer! What huge conflict for Laura. Her father abused her in many different ways and her lover betrayed her by hiding his true identity and spying on her and her friends. He’s also the father of her child but is dead … having been killed by her father! This is fabulous stuff and I’m spitting on my hands and rubbing them together.
The story covers a ten-year period. If the synopsis follows the shape of the story, most of the action takes place ten years after the opening scenes but the five opening chapters are set earlier, so I’m not sure of the balance between these timelines. I also wonder how you move between them. Is there a reason for having such a long gap between the opening and the main action? I’ve seen your reply to Chithrupa, and know you’re balancing two close POVs – Laura’s and Mike’s – as well as two different timelines. So, if I understand this correctly, you start Mike’s thread at one point in time but the rest of his thread starts earlier, when he first met her and was beginning his deception. Laura’s thread starts when *now* for her is soon after Mike’s first chapter, but extends forwards over a decade. I’m unsure about how you’ve woven these threads together because chapters 2-5 focus on Laura when she’s pregnant so, presumably, Mike’s thread starts much earlier in time but I don’t know when the reader encounters it. Also, I wonder if we see his POV after we know that he’s (probably?) dead.
I’ll look at the chapters now.
Chapter 1 – we start with Mike plotting to bring down Thatcher. (Sigh. If only he’d succeeded …) Presumably, at this point we’ll take him at face value and assume he really is a leftie activist. If you’re writing in his close POV, he knows his own hidden agenda and conflicts, which means the reader will too if we have a close POV. Have his loyalties changed? Is there a battle between his professional role and his political beliefs, if they have changed? Are his wife and children on his mind while he’s acting out a different life? Something is niggling at me and the scenario feels familiar. Have you and I worked together before? Maybe in a Book Doctor session?
Chapter 2 – we meet Laura, see she’s pregnant and seemingly secure in her relationship with Mike. A lot will depend on whether the reader shares her trust of him or if we already know from the previous chapter that he is not what he seems, which would make us worry for her. We also see the other people in her life. I note that Kat’s her step-sister, not half-sister. I’d be interested to know their relationship. Is it through Laura’s mother? The chapter ends on really good instability with their flat being broken into. Has anything been taken?
Chapter 3 – things are falling apart for Laura. Where’s Mike? Whose body is in the lake? Why has Mike lied to her? This is great stuff.- Her pregnancy boosts the stakes even higher.
Chapter 4 – the suspense ratchets up. This looks like a really good example of fortunately/unfortunately. Each time Laura reassures herself there’s a simple explanation and nothing serious is amiss, you throw a new challenge at her. Does she go round to the flat and meet this hostile and deeply suspicious stranger? Why wouldn’t she tell her friends about him?
Chapter 5 – ooh! This has taken me by surprise. Laura knows Mike’s an undercover cop? Have I got that right? I wonder how she reconciles that with her loyalty to her fellow activists. It would be a helluva secret for her to keep and massive conflict. I was interested in your adverb ‘guiltily’, referring to her dark secrets. If this is referring to the child abuse she endured, she wasn’t guilty at all, of course, though internalised guilt might be part of her psychological damage. Or maybe the secret is that her dad’s a cop. I can imagine that would be something she wouldn’t want her fellow activists to know. But Kat, as her step-sister, would know about him, wouldn’t she?
In case you can’t tell, I’m really excited by this WIP, Gill. My main questions revolve around the balance between POVs and timelines, and that ten-year gap, which might risk slowing down the pace in a way that would be incompatible with a thriller. Please do continue the conversation.
Hi Richard. I hope things have settled down for you at home. So, no questions about the genre of this WIP and it sounds like a fascinating memoir. The main USP is your connection with Zimbabwe, making your personal story very different from that of other firefighters in the UK. In one of the replies, you said: *My target audience is firefighters past and current, and anyone with experience in armed forces (worldwide) plus those people interested in firefighters in general.* Are you hoping to be trade published? I have to say I think you’ll struggle to get an agent interested in a project with such a narrow target readership. Actually, the same applies to if you decide to self-publish. Ideally, you want to attract any and all readers who enjoy memoir. Your book has that potential, so think big.
I wanted to pick up on something else that cropped up in the replies. You said: *The best memoirs I’ve read have been written in chronological order.* Are you talking about memoirs being published now? Because I would say that most are more experimental in their form. Helen Macdonald’s *H is for Hawk* is a meditation on death and grief and moves in and out of past and present. Our very own Emma’s *This is Not a Book About Charles Darwin* weaves together the story of her famous ancestors with her personal story as an author. NB: I’m absolutely not saying that you should avoid a linear chronology. What I will say is that the voice will need to be incredibly strong, especially so because the structure is predictable. Not to worry – we’ll be looking at voice in week 3. One thing I will say now is that you will need to constantly bear in mind where you’re standing: Now, looking back with hindsight, or in the earlier time, so we can access the way you felt *at the time*, rather than many years later. Hold onto that thought for now as it will be cropping up in the weeks ahead.
I can see some discussion about possibly starting the book at the award ceremony, where you are recognised for your achievements in a long and distinguished career. I do think that’s worth considering. You could create a circular narrative, beginning and ending in the same place. The narrative could still be linear after that opening. In the opening, we could see your ambivalence and conflicts about leaving a career at which you clearly excelled. It would create a kind of ‘how did he get here’ feeling. The story would then go back to your childhood and build back up to the awards ceremony, ending with you finding peace and satisfaction and thereby fulfilling the promise made in the opening scene. NB: I’m not saying you should do this. That’s not for me to say. This is your story in every sense of the word and you have to tell it in the way that feels right for you. It’s my job to challenge you to think about other ways to approach your material, not to tell you what *I* think would work best.
A couple of resources you might find useful, if you haven’t already come across them. I’ve met Marnie Summerfield and was very impressed by her approach. As I’m unable to include links here, you will need to Google her. Her site is called My Memoir. A search on the Jericho site for ‘memoir’ brought up a whole load of results that might be worth checking.
Now for the opening chapters.
Chapter 1 appears to cover a huge amount of ground: leaving school, working with your father, emigrating from Zimbabwe, two years of job rejections, preparing for an interview with the fire service. How long is this chapter? Do you ever show any scenes of unfolding action? I could be wrong but it looks to me like this could be a long section of you *telling* us what happened in that time. If not, there must be multiple scenes, no? And each will need to have its own narrative triangle.
Chapter 2 – we do now seem to be seeing scenes in which we can see you acting and reacting. It feels like the story is starting here, which makes me question even more what appeared in the opening chapter. The danger, if that’s an extended chunk of *tell*, is that readers won’t hold on for long enough to get to the exciting part, with its insights into the vigorous and grueling training process. This might be another argument for starting with the awards ceremony.
Chapter 3 is a fascinating insight into the training process.
Chapter 4 continues in the same vein but there’s a tantalising memory of a traumatic and, presumably, formative accident in Zimbabwe. I’m now wondering if that might be a really good opening scene. I see I’m not the only person this has occurred to. If the Zimbabwe connection is your USP for your memoir, making it different from that of other UK firefighters, it might be a great way to start. Not only would it be dramatic and attention-grabbing, but it would also give you a chance to bring Zimbabwe to life for readers.
Chapter 5 is set as you’re about to end training and deal with the reality of your new job. It comes along with the sort of workplace personal politics and relationships that apply to any work setting and it will be fascinating to see how they play out when the pressure is on. I know from firefighter friends that there’s a huge amount of time between calls, which needs to be filled.
All in all, it sounds like you have plenty of material to make this a highly readable memoir, Richard. Think big when it comes to your target readers.
Message to Katie and apologies to Richard. I tried to paste my feedback in again and it’s still not letting me, even though I can reply here. Colour me mystified. Going to log off now and try again tomorrow.
Will this work? Another test.
Jumping onto Richard’s thread to reply to you, Lucia. I found your memoir on Amazon and you’re clearly selling yourself short! You’ve had 125 reviews with an average rating of 4.3*. Being commissioned to write it must have been a dream come true and the publisher’s faith in you has clearly paid off. You’ve clearly created something special and your input is going to be incredibly useful for Richard.
This is such a strong premise, Chithrupa. A shout-out to your clever coursemates too, who have asked such insightful questions. As a result of your answers, I now have a much clearer idea of your novel than I would have had from the exercise on its own. It’s early in the course for us to talk about titles but *The Three Deaths of Xander Crewface* is brilliant. There’s so much to snag our attention there. A good title isn’t essential – they’re often changed by agents and publishers – but it can certainly help when it comes to getting attention for your story. My only concern is that it looks like a pastiche of Stuart Turton’s *The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle*. Maybe *Xander Crewface* would be better on its own as the title. Let’s hold onto that thought for now.
One way or another, Xander Crewface is a brilliant name for a character. It sets the tone for an entertaining novel which we’re not supposed to take too seriously. I see from one of your replies that he’s a Trump-like figure. That might divide the crowd but, given that the story punishes him (dying three times!) I don’t think it will be an issue. I agree that people don’t get massively rich by being kind and generous. Characters don’t necessarily have to be likeable anyway – but we do need to be sufficiently invested in them to be desperate to find out what will happen to them – whether we root for them to succeed or fail. You have a cast of colourful characters and I suspect they all have their flaws, paving the way for lots of misdirection and red herrings.
The novel is a clever blend of good old-fashioned murder mystery and ghost story. As a ghost, Xander – so powerful in life – is stripped of most of his power. He can’t communicate with the living, apart from when he uses the macaw (love that), and his movements are severely restricted to the place of his death(s). For this reason, it seems the PI is the one who is the most proactive in solving the crime. I’m interested to know more about him. He’s not named – I presume deliberately – but he seems to have access to info that Xander doesn’t. I want to know who this person is and how they uncover the crucial info. As you’re writing in first person and in Xander’s voice, we can only know what he does. I think – though I could always be wrong – that you’re going to have to eventually reveal who this entity is and how they got involved.
If I read it right, you’ve intentionally left the resolution hanging. We know who killed Xander but she might still inherit his fortune. That’s a very brave decision and it could be controversial. On the one hand, you’re breaking the promise an author makes to their reader. The beginning suggests the story will consist of him finding out who killed him, but also that person being held to account. You’ll hear me say many times that there’s no such thing as rules when it comes to writing a novel but there’s no doubt some readers might be left frothing at the mouth at you withholding the ending and, essentially, forcing the reader to write it for themselves. They could easily feel cheated. On the other hand, it could be a stroke of genius. It would certainly get people talking. Personally, I’d prefer to write a novel that readers either loved or hated than one that everyone was indifferent to.
Looking now at the opening chapters.
Chapter 1 – you plunge us straight into Xander being dead, but sentient and unworried, having been here before and believing he’s going to come back to life. He then discovers that’s not the case. What a delicious premise. We also start to see the members of his family. This is a highly compelling opening and one which typifies the journey ahead. Everything is in place.
Chapter 2 – Xander is an invisible witness to his family’s fractious interaction. His lack of fear about death establishes the light tone with which this story is told. He’s almost like an external narrator at this point, since he’s not caapable of being a character-in-action. So much of this WIP will hinge on his voice.
Chapter 3 – he’s piecing together the few facts and building suspicions.
Chapter 4 – the family members all seem ghastly – characters we’ll love to hate. They’re more concerned with where his money will go than with his well-being. It certainly sounds like none of them are crumbling with grief and loss. The 24-hour countdown starts. I see you’ve varied the time covered in each chapter, rather than sticking to an hour or other set period. That’s going to work really well. There’s no formula when it comes to chapter length or content. Sometimes, it can take a chapter to describe a minute when those 60 seconds are packed with action and change. Matt Haig’s The Humans has traditional chapters that are several thousand words, interspersed with much shorter ones, shrinking down to a single word at one point.
Chapter 5 – the plot is progressing nicely. Xander is working out what he can and can’t do in this state between life and death. He’s witnessing without being able to influence – which must be torture for a man who’s used to being in control. I’m not sure why he thinks the burglars are looking for a pen when the object is unnamed. Maybe he’s on the worng track. But he won’t know, if that’s the case, and neither will we because we only have his narration to guide us.
Such a good concept, Chithrupa. My only question about the structure is around the chapter breaks. I presume, given that the narrative is a linear chronology and you’re writing in first person, that each chapter follows on from the previous one in sequence. There’s always a risk of the chapter breaks feeling like a contrived device to evoke tension if there’s no shift in POV, time or place. Honestly though, I don’t think you need to worry about that. Your aim is to entertain and I do think readers are going to love to hate Xander and his family.
Hi Lucia. You’re writing a novel using your personal experience as a GP, and I’ve no doubt that the scenario of Anna’s fatal error, and the consequences for her professionally, will be authentic. I suspect the challenge for you will lie in Anna’s character and making her different enough from you. I think we all feed something of ourselves into our characters but they do need to exist in their own right. Anna is not you, even if you use elements of your own experience to make sure the story is plausible. We’ll talk more about that next week.
This story looks to me like it would be classed as women’s fiction in the industry. Although Anna is an adult, her transformation is similar to a coming-of-age story – a bildungsroman, whereby an adult learns about themselves and what they need the most in order to be happy. Her husband has cheated on her and then tries to persuade her to come home. She chooses her own path and feels liberated and empowered. Whatever we may think about books being classified as ‘women’s fiction’, this is how the story would be seen by agents and publishers. I wonder how old she is. You don’t mention children in the synopsis and I wonder if that was a choice because they would be an additional source of conflict. It’s often very revealing to see what people leave out when there’s such a tight word count – which is why we deliberately ask for such a short synopsis. For example, leaving her family and going off to Connemara to find herself, meeting up with an old ex, all has different connotations when there are children involved.
Looking now at the resolution, does she end up choosing independence – or does she go from Steve to James? If it’s the latter, there’s a ‘true love’ element that might push the genre towards romance. But does she leave the children with Steve? I suspect there will be some readers who will judge her for that. You’ll need to work hard to make sure the reader believes this is the right decision for the children, as well as herself. Is the fact of them not being mentioned in the synopsis a sign that the children’s role – and Anna’s relationship with them as a parent – has been under-developed in the draft?
Last week, you described the book as: *a contemporary fiction novel that could be classified as psychological realism.* A couple of points: *fiction novel* is tautology as novels are, by definition, fictional. I would avoid using this term as I’ve heard lots of snark from industry insiders about people who use it and what they reckon it implies about that person’s understanding of the way stories work. And *psychological realism* is not a recognised genre. There are psychological thrillers, but your story doesn’t have the sort of pace and jeopardy associated with that genre, which is a sub-genre of crime. When you come to pitch, if you’d rather avoid the women’s fiction label, I’d say you shouldn’t sweat the genre too much. The timeless themes might make the novel ideal for book clubs and reading groups. We’ll get more of an idea if that’s the case when we see some of the writing in the coming weeks. Rather than trying to pin down the genre, it might be better to think of comparison titles. For agents, that would have the same function as a stated genre. Both enable agents to know where the book would sit in the market and identify a target readership. It’s also important for us as authors to have an idea who the book is likely to appeal to.
Looking now at the opening scenes.
Scene 1 – you start by showing Anna as highly compassionate, making an unscheduled visit to a dying woman. She might be struggling to retain a professional distance and has become overly emotionally involved with a terminally ill patient. Medical professionals can’t function if they empathise too much. This is a dark opening to the story and I do have to say it all sounds rather bleak.
Scene 2 – we meet Robert and the delicate and sensitive topic of euthanasia is brought up. I’ll be interested to see how he comes over on the page. Does he take his mother’s life as fulfilment of her wishes and out of compassion for her suffering? Or has he had enough of caring for her? I find myself hoping it’s the former as that would be a terrible conflict for anyone who has to witness a loved one suffering, knowing there is no hope of recovery. These kinds of moral dilemmas are the sort of thing that readers in book groups love to discuss. You said in the synopsis that Anna doesn’t report him because she was partly responsible. I think it will be interesting if she’s also driven by moral ambiguity and conflicted feelings about euthanasia. Although this hasn’t happened yet, I mention it here because it’s closely tied up with Robert as a character.
Scene 3 – we see Anna arriving home. We learn about the members of the family, and that they employ a childminder. But do the children actually appear here? I note that we know nothing about them apart from their gender. No ages, names etc. This reinforces my feeling that they may need to be brought out of the shadows and made into more active participants in Anna’s story. We learn that Steve is a surgeon. I was brought up short by Anna being irritated at him rushing out. He’s on his way to an emergency. Surely, anyone, let alone a doctor as caring as she seemed to be in scene 1, would understand that she’s not the priority here.
Scene 4 – she seems very unfocused. Yesterday, she wanted Steve’s attention. Today, she’s ignoring him. She’s prioritising getting the girls ready for school but then leaves them and runs to her car. It seems like she’s not OK and I wonder if this is something new and, if so, where it comes from and why it’s manifesting now.
Scene 5 – she returns to the original scene. Has she taken the girls to school? There’s some more interaction with Robert and I wonder again what’s driving him. If we’re in her POV, we can’t know what his motivation is.
The premise of the moral dilemmas around end-of-life care for terminally ill people is very strong. The thing that strikes me most revolves around Anna as a character and, tangentially, Robert. I’m getting some mixed messages but I don’t know if that’s down to the way you’ve approached the exercise or if it’s a reflection of something that needs attention in the draft. If we’re supposed to root for her, we’ll need to care about her, even if we’re sometimes critical of her actions. I look forward to meeting Anna next week, when we’ll see how she comes over on the page.
Hi Alison. You seem to have all the ingredients that young readers look for in an exciting adventure story. I’m sure that having been a teacher will be good preparation for knowing what 8-12-year olds enjoy. For those who don’t know, middle-grade is aged 8-12 and the protagonists are usually as the upper end of the age bracket. Noah fits well, especially given that you’re writing a series and he’ll get older as he moves through each book. I too love the symbolism of his name.
The part that gives me the sense that you’re onto something special is when you said this: *Stephen King said … writing a book was like digging up a fossil. That’s how it felt to me, as if it already existed, and I was simply uncovering it.* I love that. There’s a sweet spot that only authors recognise, when it feels like the story is already *out there* and we’re just taking down dictation. The story exists outside of us, in other words. People who have never attempted to write a novel think that sounds impossible – maybe pretentious – but it’s a very real phenomenon and is one of the most exciting things about writing novels, in my opinion. The reason I say it makes me think you have something special is because I suspect it means you have let go and allowed the story to flow. Getting out of our own way is often a key to the success of a WIP.
Middle grade is the target readership, rather than the genre. Last week, you seemed unsure about the genre, saying ‘I think you’d say it’s science fiction/fantasy.’ I disagree and would say it’s clearly cli-fi – a genre you have in common with Paula, though her story is very different. Given that the climate crisis is such a threat to our world, and your readers’ generation has such an uncertain future as a result, this is a dark premise. Children love to be frightened but there’s a big difference between ghosts and ghouls and such a real danger. I was pleased to see that you’re injecting your story with hope and empowerment. The name Pretzel for your alien is a sign that you have a lightness of tone that I think will work really well.
This is the second book in the series, and you’ve already self-published the first one, in which you establish Noah as the protagonist. His father has died recently, making it easy for young readers to care about him straight away. Pretzel finds him and their relationship is established. (I checked the blurb on Amazon!) His conflicts in book 1 seem to be those that young readers will recognise and relate to, eg bullying. The genre feels more like fantasy, in that it’s the relationship between Noah and Pretzel that seems to be the story’s identity. I’m getting echoes of ET but also of stories in which a lonely child creates an imaginary friend and it’s up to the reader to decide whether or not they want to buy into this friend being ‘real’. I can’t see any mention of the climate crisis in book 1 and so my only concern is that the focus of this story (as is evident in the genre being cli-fi, rather than fantasy) is very different. Please let me know if I’ve got that wrong. The tags you’ve used on Amazon are related to bullying and children dealing with death. No mention of extraterrestrial friends, or the climate crisis. You might want to think about how you pitch the book to readers.
As I’m sure you know, the challenge with a series is to make each book able to stand alone, in the hope that you’ll attract new readers with each new one and readers will then be sufficiently engaged to go back and read the previous one(s). The challenge, therefore, is in giving new readers enough info to know who/what/when/where, without overloading the established readers with too much back story that they already know. Also, while there will need to be a narrative arc that stretches over the whole series, each book will need to feel complete in its own right. I see from one of your replies that you have *a very short introduction to the book … the Hummerite council (out in cyberspace somewhere) is discussing the problems on Earth and decide to return Pretzel to join Noah in tackling things.* That is, in fact, the opening to the story and the first thing readers will see, so I would have included it as a discrete scene in the 3-sentence exercise. It sounds like it might be a good set-up for letting readers know the story’s identity straight away.
Looking at the shape of the whole story as summarised in your (very good) synopsis, this story has a very clear arc. Noah and Pretzel work together to save the world. I like the recurring metaphor of holes. I imagine the brightest of your readers will pick up on the symbolism of this being a reflection of the black holes but the story is packed with action and jeopardy, and so it won’t matter if many of them don’t pick up on it and just enjoy reading an exciting adventure story. I love the way Noah comes to own his power to bring about change. Such a hope-filled message for this generation. For this age group, I think you’re right to end the story with them succeeding in saving the world.
I’ll look now at the opening chapters. Love the titles, by the way.
Chapter 1 – you plunge us straight into the strange phenomena of climate crisis: the drama of the unexpected storm and the solar eclipse. Eclipses are deeply unsettling. Birds and other wildlife often react with alarm. There’s a reason why they were considered to be terrifying portents of great evil in ancient times and there’s so much superstition attached to them. Pretzel arriving at the end of the chapter means you’re wasting no time in getting your ducks (ha!) in a row. This looks like a compelling opening. I’m not sure if you needed the short intro with the Hummerite council. It might be confusing for new readers. We can find out who and what Pretzel is when he arrives in the story. I’m already invested and would love to know his appearance.
Chapter 2 – this is where we’ll meet Pretzel and see the two friends interacting. Back story can be bled in through a combination of dialogue (the two of them reminiscing?) and prose. The climate crisis theme is developed, but with a fantasy element. I like this combination of real threats and things that are clearly not ‘real’. It gives fearful young readers a way out if the story is not too close to reality.
Chapter 3 – Carter comes into the picture. He was the antagonist in Book 1, so this is where you’re going to need to take care about how much back story to include. Carter is a corporeal threat. I’m not sure why an adult – a powerful man and a politician – would go to so much trouble to discredit Noah. This is the only part I struggled with because readers might find this part hard to relate to. Ironically, I think children would be able to buy into extraterrestrial friends more easily than adult protagonists, whose world might seem even more distant than space.
Chapter 4 – I love the seed-planting and Noah and Nell’s connection to the ducks. There’s a sweet innocence there but also a deeper truth about our connection to our natural world. It’s more than worth saving but it’s under threat by another spooky eclipse.
Chapter 5 – this chapter combines many of your themes. We have the relatively trivial instability of Carter deliberately drenching Noah and Nell; discussions about the intersection between humans and the environment; conflicts among schoolfriends; Noah being proactive in trying to make a difference. I love the KQ – kindness quad. What a lovely message to your readers.
This really does all look very good, Alison. You have an exciting adventure story that will thrill young readers. While the narrative is underpinned by some very serious messages, it looks to me like the political agenda is not visible in the form of lecturing to your readers. The pacing looks very good and I’m not hearing any loud alarm bells. I look forward to entering this world with you over the coming weeks.
Lots to love here, Julie. Can I just check something? I worked with a Julie Holden a couple of years ago on a literary gothic thriller. Was that you? She had a different email address, so maybe it’s a coincidence. Spooky if so, right? Especially given the paranormal element of this WIP.
I can see that the parallel timeline has given you extra challenges with the synopsis because it’s almost like you have three stories, woven together. In 2018, we have loner Rachel. Much of her thread seems to be about uncovering secrets from her past. The only reference to drama in the *now* of her timeline is when Lee tries to drown her. I don’t know if there are any consequences for Lee. In fact, I’m finding it hard to work out who she is and what’s driving her. Is she the character who links past and present? Is she the antagonist? I’m wondering if she’s the ‘time-folding spirit’ and want to know more about who she is, her motivation etc.
The historical thread is set in 1918, in the years following WW1 – exactly 100 years earlier and a time of great upheaval and instability. It also means that the modern timeline precedes Covid, neatly getting round that being an issue. Win is a healer and a carer for her disabled husband. Michael is the missing Ryan, so he has existed in both timelines. He’s ‘secretive’ – is he aware that he’s a time traveller? Win drowns – a mirror of Lee trying to kill Rachel? Is Rachel a reincarnation of Win – a restless spirit who can’t move on until she’s united with her true love? What about the disabled husband? Might readers feel Win deserved to be punished for betraying him? I can see the resolution for Win’s arc but what about Rachel? Is solving the secrets of the past enough for her to embrace her own life in the present?
Oooh, lots and lots of questions. Do please come back in and answer them. The better an idea we have of your WIP at this early stage, the more useful we’re likely to be for you in the coming weeks.
Looking now at the opening scenes.
Prologue – a lot of agents say they dislike prologues but that’s because I suspect they see so many ones that don’t work. It looks to me like yours definitely does. I’m guessing the man is anonymous, and the time is unstated. It could be any place, and any time. With the hindsight of your synopsis, I imagine this is the moment when Ryan disappears from our modern world and is transported back 100 years to being Michael. If so, it’s the inciting incident for both threads. I love the storm – opportunity for building a wonderful dark and brooding atmosphere, which gives us a strong sense of the journey ahead. The crumbling ground suggests paranormal activity, rather than a natural phenomenon. I’m guessing this prologue is quite short. I can’t see anything that gives cause for concern and this looks like the right place to start this story.
Scene 2 – we meet Rachel. We also – briefly and tangentially – meet Ryan. The link to the prologue is the storm.
Scene 3 – as I understand it, this chapter is an exception as includes both timelines, whereas chapters alternate in the rest of the draft. We meet Win. The storm is a very clever link between the threads. There’s a lot more going on in Win’s *now* than there is in Rachel’s, with loads of action and drama.
Scene 4 – we’re back with Rachel, whose everyday life is a lot more humdrum than Win’s. The WW1 exhibition is another clever link between the threads. Is the client relevant? We meet Lee and learn that Ryan – who we heard about in the previous chapter – is her brother-in-law. Because I’m so intrigued by Ryan, I wonder how they’re related. Is Lee married to Ryan’s brother? Or is she the sister of Ryan’s wife? Rachel lies to Lee. Veeeery interesting. Does she even know why she did that? Is she lacking in agency, being driven by some external force? It looks to me like Win gets most of the action and Rachel’s conflicts are more internal. Is that right?
Scene 5 – it sounds like Rachel is stuck. Life is happening to her, rather than her actively engaging with it. If Rachel is Win’s reincarnation, I wonder where her gran fits in. Might she be Win’s daughter? Does she have a part to play?
You’ve really got my attention with this WIP, Julie. My only small concern is that it looks like Rachel is quite passive – but maybe that’s your intention. Please do reply to the questions I’ve raised, using the little cog under this crit and clicking ‘reply’. I would love to understand more than I can grasp from your synopsis.
Hi Gillian. You’re exploring some timeless and universal themes with this WIP. Conflicts in relationships, differing priorities, mid-life crises – these are things that many readers will recognise and relate to. Simon and Ruth are wealthy and privileged. I too thought of Shiv Roy and Tom Wambsgans in Succession. In fact, that whole series was a briliant example of the ways in which detestable characters can still be compelling. And, as with Succession, it sounds like we might condemn Simon’s actions but still sympathise with him as a character, as viewers do with all the Roy siblings. You’ve given him depth with your hints about his childhood. I love the extended metaphor of building bridges.
Your synopsis summarises the story arc but doesn’t show the building blocks of the plot, which is what we expect to see in a synopsis. You need to not only strip off the story’s flesh but also expose the spinal vertebrae, if that makes sense. It’s interesting to see the extent to which the synopsis focuses on Simon only. With such a strict word count, it can be very revealing to see what people include – and what they leave out. Would you say this is a story of one man’s personal development? Or do the other characters grow and change as they move through the story? Do the four adults all have their own POV? Do any of the four children?
The story stretches over five years. That’s quite a long time to cover and I’ll be interested to know how you move over the inevitable periods when not much happens. The main challenge is for you to get the reader to root for Simon to change – not easy given that he sounds hard to like – rather than rooting for Ruth to leave him and get on with her own life. The accusation of inappropriate behaviour with a 16-year-old is going to be hard for readers to come to terms with, unless there’s no truth in it.
I like the equivocal ending. It looks like you’ve resisted the urge to tie everything up too neatly. The best resolutions are those where the reader imagines what the characters might do next, after the story ends. Simon has been redeemed, it seems. He certainly ends the story in a very different place from where he started.
With the chapter summaries, you did make me smile with your creative attempts to squeeze everything into three sentences using punctuation – and then using more sentences anyway. To reiterate: the purpose of the exercise is not for people to summarise a scene but very specifically to identify the three sides of the narrative triangle (hence three sentences) and check the narrative drive to make sure that every scene pushes the story forwards. That applies as much to a character-driven novel as it does to a fast-paced thriller. Using more than three sentences makes that task harder, but no worries. There will still be plenty to learn from what you’ve posted. I’ll look at that now.
Chapter 1 – we meet Simon, Ruth and Hannah and see the personal and professional conflicts in their relationships. Simon having an old friend – a woman who cares about him -suggests he can’t be all bad. There are no ‘bad’ people here – just two people who may have grown apart and want different things. I can see why you struggled to use three sentences. It’s because you’re applying the exercise to the whole chapter, whereas there are obviously several scenes -‘units of action’- in the chapter. It would be more helpful for you to apply the exercise to each of these scenes.
Chapter 2 – Simon won the argument about where to travel to. I wonder how the children react to their parents’ coolness towards each other. A holiday home in Portugal doesn’t sound too bad, but children usually care more about being loved than pampered. Ruth sounds feisty and proactive – not the type to be bullied into doing something she doesn’t want to, or doesn’t believe is right. Great scope for showing conflicts in families. I too wonder whether we’re in Ruth’s POV and, if so, how you have handled the POV elsewhere.
Chapter 3 – again, you have multiple scenes here, which is why you struggled to find three sentences to cover the triangle for the chapter as a whole. We meet Dani, who has a much less traditional family set-up. He has an interesting take on Simon’s past, giving us some clues to why he’s so driven and, possibly, psychologically damaged. That gives us the context for his impatience with his own children. He’s repeating the cycle. It’s for Ruth to decide whether she can trust him to want to break the cycle. Their children’s own future mental health is at stake. That’s good conflict for her and, again, I wonder if we’re in her POV, seeing Simon through her eyes.
Chapter 4 – you’ve actually stated that this is three discrete scenes. The exercise will be more useful for you if you apply the narrative triangle to each of those scenes. Your sentences describe the wants and needs of seven (eight, if we include Isabel) characters but we don’t know what actually happens. As we’ll see next week, the way we get to know characters is by seeing them acting and reacting in response to the situations you put them in and the conflicts you give them to handle.
Chapter 5 – Ruth is taken out of the picture by a work crisis. It’s interesting (to me, anyway) that work is a huge priority for her too. The family have a live-in nanny. Should I worry for the children? Both parents seem to be equally ambitious and driven. At least Ruth takes care of their practical needs. Simon seems like he’s ill-equipped to be a parent in every sense, emotional as well as practical. Is this chapter in Dani’s POV?
This WIP looks like it raises the sorts of themes and issues that readers love to discuss in book groups. I’m interested to know about how you’ve handled POV. Please feel free to answer that and other questions I’ve raised by clicking the little cog and ‘reply’ at the bottom of this comment.
Hi Paula. This is an exciting project. The genre is definitely cli-fi (which is recognised as a specific genre now) with elements of a fast-paced thriller and romance. The stakes couldn’t he higher – the future of the world is in the balance. I too loved the idea of Mount Kilimanjaro being used as a futuristic ark to ensure the survival of different species.
You’ve had some great feedback and I see Richard in particular brings a very helpful perspective that the rest of us might not have. I had never heard the term ‘Zimbo’ before! Is it only used to refer to white Zimbabweans? Is it specifically used for ex-pats? I think this is worth thinking about because there’s a wider issue here around white characters in a story set in Africa. Are the main characters, apart from Jacob, all white? Is there a danger of the story coming over as a white saviour narrative? These are all questions that would occur to agents, so it’s worth you thinking about them in advance.
A lot of the feedback has centred around people being confused by the number of named characters in your synopsis. There’s something important in this, if we think laterally about it, and it’s why a synopsis can be such a useful tool for us as authors. It raises the question of ownership of the story. Clearly, Jacqui is the main character but the synopsis, which should follow the shape of the story as it unfolds, suggests that there are multiple POV characters. Is that right? It looks that way from the opening chapters. Although it crosses over with next week’s focus on character, it’s cropped up here. How many characters have their own POV? If Jacqui has ownership of the story, we shouldn’t be away from her for too long. You might find it useful to extend the 3-sentence exercise to the full draft and colour-code it, according to POV. That will give you a visual representation of the shape of the narrative and you can check that the main character’s presence is sustained.
Looking more closely at the plot, I presume that plan A – the Alpha programme? – was to launch the satellites and save the world. How would that work? As cli-fi is a sub-genre of sci-fi, you will need to make sure the science is plausible. Lionel White sounds like a version of Elon Musk – hugely wealthy and powerful, with an interest in science, though your billionaire appears to want to save the world. I was a bit confused about the laser – is it connected in some way to the satellite launch? The kidnap of the students appears to be a sub-plot, unconnected to Regina’s thread. Is that right? If so, might there be two separate stories here? I’m a bit unsure about Regina’s motivation. If her aim is to save herself and her cats, wouldn’t she be the only human survivor in a dead world?
I know you ran out of words, but it looks like the threads don’t intertwine until the final battle. Is this a physical fight? What happens to Regina at the end? I like the hope-filled and redemptive resolution, but might it be a bit too neat? I hope you take all these questions as a sign that I’m intrigued and want to know more.
Looking now at the opening chapters.
Chapter 1 – we meet Jacqui and Jacob (side note: might be worth changing one of those names as they’re very similar) in the fascinating setting of the Zimbabwean lion conservation camp. The instability comes on a personal level, with the relationship with Graye having ended without closure, and the global, with the immediate impact of the climate crisis. From what I can see, it doesn’t look like the chapter is left hanging in a way that would sow the seeds for the next one.
Chapter 2 – we now move to London and meet Dr Boyle and Graye, learning of the Beta program and their personal connection to Jacqui. I agree that Graye would appear to be very young to be entrusted with such a huge responsibility. The fate of the world is in his hands! I also wonder why Boyle trusts him with the info about his work but they’ve both been keeping it from Jacqui.
Chapter 3 – we now move to the US and meet Lionel and Regina. I could be wrong, but it feels like you’re assembling your cast and the story feels a bit disjointed. There’s not yet a clear chain of cause and effect, action and consequence.
Chapter 4 – aha! Now we have some serious action and jeopardy. The kidnap is the inciting incident for this plot thread. But is it connected to the main plot and what we learnt in chapters 2 and 3? It looks to me like this would be a great way to start the novel. There’s certainly masses of instability. Interesting moral question about whether to save the humans or the lion cubs. They choose the animals but I imagine this wouldn’t be an easy decision. Good conflict.
Chapter 5 – we’re back in London and her grandfather is murdered by an unknown attacker.
I could be wrong, but it looks to me like the story doesn’t get going until chapter 4. It might be worth starting there, then having chapter 2 next. That would leave the opening chapter on a cliff-edge to compel us to read on, but then delaying gratification by taking us to a different location. We’d meet Boyle and Graye but they wouldn’t yet know about what Jacqui is dealing with.
Let’s talk about this more. I’d be really interested to hear your responses. If you go to the bottom of this feedback and click the little cog, you can reply directly to me and it will be easier to follow conversations. Hope this has all got you thinking.
Message to Richard. Less is definitely not better! You’ve pushed harder and have come up with some seriously astute questions that will challenge Paula to think about her WIP far more than feedback that simply says the concept is good. Please don’t hold back.
