The House of Love and Death

Andrew Klavan’s The House of Love and Death is the third book in the Cameron Winter series which follows its protagonist, a covert government agent turned college English professor, as he works to solve murders that catch his attention. I’ve mentioned this series in fiction reviews before. While I’ve enjoyed it so far this is really the moment where I felt the series made sense as something other than just a tale about a reformed assassin trying to make good on his previous misdeeds.

So far Cameron Winter stories have had interesting things to say about what it means to be a man and what the modern world taking shape around us might mean for those trying to live good lives. However there were a lot of pieces that didn’t quite add up yet. Many good things in storytelling come in threes so when a third book in the series was announced I was optimistic that we’d get a more complete picture of where his tale was leading. The opening scene convinced me that was the case.

The House of Love and Death opens on firefighters rushing into a burning house where they find four dead bodies, all shot to death with a rifle. The only survivor of the massacre is a boy hiding in the woods out back. The rest of his family and his nanny are dead, claimed by the specter of death that looms over the house, and he has little of use to say as, when asked how many people were in the house, all he can tell the firefighters, “Everyone.”

Cameron catches wind of this strange event and his so-called strange habit of mind kicks in. He inserts himself into the case and contends with disgruntled security guards, hostile police, the wealthy and the working class. Outside of the case his life isn’t easy either. The Dean of Students has received complaints about him and is now looking into his past, which draws the wrong kind of attention. His own guilt at his life as an assassin hasn’t entirely passed. At a glance the story looks like it will be very complicated. However from the moment it was clear that the murdered family employed a nanny I knew the payoffs I was waiting for were coming.

Let me explain.

In When Christmas Comes we learned a lot about Cameron’s terrible childhood and how his primary source of moral teaching and emotional warmth was his own nanny. Unfortunately that relationship ended in disappointment. It couldn’t be a coincidence that, three installments in, we see another young boy who’s life is literally saved by a nanny in a case he is investigating. Klavan is a very deliberate author and he wouldn’t include that kind of detail without reason.

I wasn’t expecting quite the outcome he had in mind, however. In his first outing Cameron is dealing with foundational issues, a simple crime with a reasonably straight forward solution. In the second installment, A Strange Habit of Mind, things get more complicated. Social media and its trends intrude on the narrative and the battle for justice unfolds alongside the question of how much we can shape our world through intelligence and willpower. The scope of the story was expanding. In The House of Love and Death the largest possible forces have taken a hand. Love and death themselves are playing out their roles in the medium of human wants and desires and we have to be prepared to accept that these are more than abstractions if we hope to solve the mystery the house presents us.

Cameron is familiar with Death, having been a messenger of it for years. Love, on the other hand, has always kept its distance from him and its absence has left his understanding of the world skewed. It will take the work of a handful of warm, diligent and yes, loving women to help him work that part of it out. The question of what is true and what is a fancy we’re caught up in is also a theme in this work. The mystery itself feels almost like these abstract questions have donned human flesh and manifested their work in any number of ways across the small Midwestern town where the murders happened.

By the end of The House of Love and Death it truly feels like Cameron has come to grips with Love. He just has to manifest it in his life. It’s really a landmark in the series and it feels deeply impactful. In many of the previous stories Klavan has written it really felt like he was struggling to find a way to handle these themes in a way that felt organic. Many of these efforts, such as his Another Kingdom trilogy, were done in good faith but were lacking something. Now, once again working in his favorite genre, it seems like he’s really hit his stride.

In short, The House of Love and Death is a gripping thriller, a murder mystery not afraid to look at the darkest parts of human nature and a sweeping battle between good and evil as its hero seeks to find his place as a man in the modern world. It’s a remarkable achievement by Andrew Klavan. If you are not afraid of a story that deals with the dark side of human nature I cannot recommend the Cameron Winter series enough.

Writing Vlog – 12-13-2023

Today we edit. Yesterday we also edited. Tomorrow we will also edit. There is a lot of editing going on, all told. For a change of pace, I vlogged about editing.

Process – Editing and Feedback

Like many crafts, writing is actually a number of different skills all wrapped up in the process of creating something. Like all craftsmen, writers are better or worse at various aspects of the process. In the case of editing things are particularly polarizing. Authors seem to either enjoy the process of editing, and indeed claim to do their best work in this stage of the craft, or they hate editing and just have to slog through it. I must confess that I fall firmly into the second category.

Let me be clear. Editing is a very necessary part of the process and there’s nothing I’ve ever written that didn’t benefit from having a good editing pass to make it clearer and more consistent. However it’s not something I enjoy doing and as a result this is the part of the process where my advice will probably be the weakest. So, what’s the purpose of editing?

Well, as I already mentioned, making it clearer and more consistent is a good starting point. Watching for consistency is pretty simple. Check your set ups for important pay offs and make sure the set up actually leads into the payoff you are aiming for. When I discussed outlines I mentioned I didn’t tweak my outline to reflect revisions I made as I planned scenes but I probably should. Why did I say I should? Because scanning the most current outline I have is the fastest way to remind myself what payoffs my setups should be pointing to. (Again, I keep coming back to the outline as the fastest way to keep your story straight. This is why I stress its usefulness as a writing tool.)

Clarity is harder to gauge. It’s best to set a piece of writing aside for a while before editing it, although it’s best to acknowledge that the time available to the writer is a factor into how practical that is. When you come back you’ll hopefully be able to read what you wrote without your intentions clouding your mind. That will make it easier to gauge whether you actually said what you intended to say. Developing the proper perspective when doing this is also important. You’re not reading and asking whether you said something other than what you intended, that’s not the way unclear prose works its way into what you write. What happens is you write gibberish instead of something understandable.

I should also note that, in my case, how long I must leave something sitting before I can effective edit it is dependent on how many times I’ve edited it. Often a week or two of down time is enough for the first editing pass. This is part of why I try to give myself a couple of weeks of material in padding for the stories I am writing. I can edit them the day before they are posted and have a pretty clear eye for what I’m reading. However it can take a month or two before I can make a second editing pass with any clarity and even longer before a third is effective.

Ultimately editing on your own will only take you so far. It is also wise to seek out the input of people who are willing to give fair and even handed critique of your work. Ideally that would be a professional editor. The problem with going that route is that such people will rightly charge you a fair amount of money for their services and if you are not yet a major publishing phenomenon you may not be able to afford it. I understand this problem as I also suffer from it.

That said, there’s really something to be said for having one person who handles all your basic feedback. An editor who knows you, your style and your priorities is going to give very personalized input. You also won’t have to constantly go back and fill in important context and thematic through lines as you discuss your story. If I could afford that kind of consistent input from someone I would definitely pay for it. Sadly, I can’t afford it and I suspect, if you’re reading this, you can’t either.

So what’s the alternative?

There are plenty of forums, websites, Discord servers and the like where you can find like-minded, struggling authors and exchange feedback with them. While you won’t get the same level of personalized input from them as you would an editor, any feedback is good. It’s not impossible, of course. Sometimes a collaborator will be able to work with you for months or longer on multiple projects but it’s not a guarantee and you shouldn’t count on it.

Managing feedback is a whole ‘nother thing. Hopefully you’ll be able to engage in a lot of dialog with them and not just get an email outlining a few thoughts on the story. Ask as many questions as you can. Again, clarity and consistency is a major thing you want to ask questions about. Did they understand characters and decisions? If not, how can you make them clearer?

Beyond those two basic issues dealing with feedback is a lot harder. Readers will offer thoughts on your characters, the tone of your story, your prose, your genre of choice and many other things you won’t think of until people bring them up. All of that feedback is good and useful but you should be careful. Don’t chase any one particular kind of response from your audience. People have many and diverse opinions on these many facets of your story and you cannot control them. The ultimate question is did they see what you were trying to do with your story or not? Don’t concern yourself as much with whether they liked what you were trying to do.

Ultimately, whether you are editing yourself or asking someone else to do it you are not trying to make people like your story. That’s not something you can do. What other people think of your story is their business. You are the creator of your story and you need to focus on whether the vision you had for that narrative is getting through to your audience. If you didn’t have enough confidence in that vision to stick with in the face of criticism you shouldn’t have written it. This part of the process is about making your vision as clear to others as possible. If you can do that, you’ve fulfilled your role as storyteller. With that, your role in the process is done and thus, so is this series.

Writing Vlog – 12-06-2023

Very brief update as we roll into the holidays. It’s probably gonna be a slower month.

Process – Dialog and Subtext

Writing a scene is more than just working out the people and how they would carry out their goals. It’s also how they interact with each other while trying to convince others of their positions or dismiss their objections. It’s how they interact with their environment. Ultimately it’s what these words and actions say and don’t say about what they want and what they value.

So, once I have the basics of a scene blocked out I ask myself how direct they would be in talking about what they want. A Candle in the Wind is our case study for this series and it has a couple of examples of this. The best is probably the meeting between Sheriff Avery Warwick and the Fairchild siblings. The sheriff suspects the Fairchilds are working with Harper, who he’s just sent out of town so he won’t cause any problems. Which they are. Brandon and Cassie are trying to figure out what’s happening in Riker’s Cove while also not getting kicked out by the sheriff and, in Brandon’s case, upholding the first tenant of Avaloni chivalry – to seek the truth. In other words, Brandon doesn’t want to lie directly to Avery. Both characters are pursuing goals they cannot state explicitly to the other – but they still need the other to do something for them.

Much of the dialog in these scenes is constructed so that the two men serve these goals without ever explicitly bringing them up. Most people will describe this as showing the characters are intelligent. There is certainly an element of that to writing characters with subtext, as intelligence is an important factor in recognizing subtext and both characters do pick up on some of what the other is trying to do. Likewise, less intelligent actors tend to have less subtext. But adding subtext is more than just a reflection of intelligence; it is a way to give insight.

In his final duel with Heinrich von Nighburg, Roy baffles his opponent with his resistance to the other’s mental push towards anger. In his dialog he points out that his anger comes from showing up late and short on silver. This reveals that Roy’s real emotional vulnerability isn’t anger, it’s guilt. He becomes angry with himself when he feels he had a responsibility to help others that he couldn’t fulfill and that anger leaks out. Nighburg would have done better to push him towards guilt rather than bait him into anger but his understanding of Roy was too superficial to understand that.

I could have written this in plain language. However, Roy Harper isn’t a character who is comfortable with strangers, especially those who are out to kill him, so it’s not something it would be in character for him to state plainly. Furthermore, it’s more interesting for the audience to work it out from the subtext than see it so stated.

It’s important to have moments of subtext woven into your scenes. It doesn’t have to come from dialog, although these are the most obvious examples, but can come from interacting with objects as well. Say you have a protagonist who was given a keepsake by a parent who hated violence. Having the character holding that keepsake or even fiddling with it while debating the ethics of using lethal force creates a subtext to all the character’s arguments, for or against, without need any explicit dialog or exposition.

In a visual medium subtext can also be established by character expressions. Smiling while saying you’re sorry is a fairly blunt way to create subtext, a character looking at the door while promising to stay is another. This kind of visual subtext can be used in prose but it’s often very on point. I prefer to use it when a character is realizing another character’s subtext rather than as a way to signal subtext to the audience.

How you integrate subtext into your narrative is up to you. There’s a lot of different ways to do it but I’d recommend picking one or two and really honing them before trying another one. You don’t need a huge amount of subtext in a scene. Keep adding it and eventually it’s just the text of the scene so it’s better to be good at delivering it than having a bunch of different ways to work it in.

I put dialog and subtext together because I like to try and write dialog that introduces subtext. (Whether I succeed or not is not my place to say.) However there are also other techniques I try to keep in mind while writing dialog and, while not a process per se, these rules of thumb are things I find helpful when trying to put one word after another.

Characters should have preferred kinds of metaphors. Roy speaks in terms of fighting and army life most of the time but sometimes lapses into the language of his religion, the Mated Pair. This reflects his general outlook on life and his background. I’ve written a character who grew up as a grove tender and for whom I deliberately wrote down a series of tree based similes that I looked for every chance to use.

Analogies and metaphors grounded in real-world history and culture can be used in some cases. Obviously if your story is set in the present day feel free. Otherwise, depending on how deep you want immersion in your setting to be, you might sprinkle a few in or chose to invent “parallel” idioms based on the history and cultures of your world. If you do chose to avoid “real” colloquialisms in your dialog be careful. There’s a lot of things that don’t immediately look like they’re directly rooted in Earth history or culture that turn out to be if you look closer. For example, “zounds” is an abbreviation of “Christ’s wounds,” a potentially sacrilegious exclamation common in medieval England.

Characters should also have a rhythm of speaking. Some might prefer short words or sentences, others are prone to stringing thoughts together. Any kind of verbal tic can be present in character dialog, although I recommend not writing any dialog in a way that is difficult to understand. Spelling out heavy regional accents, for example. I try to describe these in narration rather than write them out as someone not familiar with the accent might find it incomprehensible.

It is possible to give characters difficult or even impossible to understand dialog. Giving the incomprehensible speaker a translator can create comedy, subtext and intrigue in equal measure. The dialog might not be important, either. But in general, if you’re going to write it out on the page I recommend making it understandable. Having strings of gibberish written out on the page typically just frustrates me and I skim past it. Your mileage may vary.

How your characters communicate with each other, persuade one another or conceal their goals is a difficult thing to manage and probably one of the most important things for you, as an author, to work out. As such I don’t have as fixed a process for it as some other things. I do have a lot of rules of thumb, however, and I’ve gathered them together in large part by reading blogs like this one or books on the art of writing and, of course, reading lots of good stories myself. Hopefully something you find here will help you create compelling scenes as well.

Writing Vlog – 11-29-2023

This week the scope of my latest series of writing essays comes into focus and I talk a bit about future things. Find it all in today’s writing vlog:

Process – Scenes and Bridges

This is part two of a series discussing my process when I write a story. If you’re interested in the first part, on constructing an outline, you can find it here. It’s recommended reading for this post because, like all good processes, this step builds on the previous one so some of what I suggest here will not work that well unless you’ve written an outline. As with everything I write about my process, this is an outline of what I do. I have constructed this process through trial and error, basing much of what I do on what I learned in elementary writing exercises filtered through constant experimentation with the methods of other, more skilled writers. The result is not gospel by any means. Many things people have suggested as good writing methods I have tried and rejected. I expect others will try my methods and reject them in turn, which is good and right.

With all the disclaimers out of the way, how do I go about turning an outline into a series of narrative scenes that tie together?

Well, the first thing is that I think about the story a lot. I know that seems like a given, many people mull of their stories from time to time over the course of the day. However the thing that I try to do is be very deliberate about it. When I am at work and I have a very repetitive, hands on task like cleaning equipment scheduled for the day I look over my outline, pick two to four points and ruminate on them while performing that activity.

During this process I generally ask myself three basic questions:

  1. Who are the characters in this scene?
  2. How would they cause the events of the scene?
  3. How do those actions lead to the next scene?

Each of these questions is actually quite complex, less because the question itself is tricky but because there may be no good answer to the question as the situation stands. For example, if the outline calls for Roy to be the only character in a scene but he needs someone who can read records of the Forever Wars written in ancient Iberian then the scene cannot progress. Roy doesn’t speak or read Iberian in any form. Thus I have to add a character to the scene to help him with this by either adding a character who can read Iberian or by adding another scene where Roy hunts down someone to translate for him.

Ideally, the events of a scene should naturally grow from who is present and what the events of a previous scene were. The first scene or two of a story are thus the most important. They’re going to set up all the pieces that drive the story so any inconsistencies there are going to spread through the rest of the story. Early errors only get worse as time goes on. That’s why I find the outlining process so valuable as it lets me see those cracks forming without spending a whole lot of time writing and rewriting the story.

In general I begin with the situation characters are in at the beginning of a scene and think about how that character would respond to it. I prefer a good, steady escalation to a scene so I begin with dialog and ramp up to actions taken. That doesn’t mean characters will always begin a scene by talking but dialog, even if it’s never used, helps you get an idea of what your characters are thinking about and what their perspectives are. Those thoughts may be best expressed directly through action. However I find that sitting down and talking over the situation with the characters the best way for me to get into their heads.

Yes, this means I am often at work, performing maintenance and having imaginary conversations with people that don’t exist. Don’t judge me. It works very well for me about 99% of the time and that is what is most important. Can’t guarantee it will work for you unless you give it a try.

Now as I mentioned above, in this stage I will often end up expanding on the outline or tweaking aspects of it in order to better reflect my answering the questions I ask myself in building a scene. I mentioned adding a scene where Roy goes to find a translator in my example above. Generally I don’t go back and modify my “final” outline as I do this although it would probably help me if I did. The outline is my road map as I plan these scenes. It’s how I plan the direction of scenes and having these things on hand is helpful, especially if I wind up taking a break part way through writing something. But as you can see in the outline I posted last week, many elements are missing from it.

The perfect example of how turning an outline into scenes can create new elements of your story is the “character” of Jonathan Riker’s Statue. I created the Statue to “watch” certain events that the point of view characters of the story couldn’t be allowed to see. They were still important events to the story and the audience needed to know them. However letting the characters see them would cause them to intervene. I couldn’t let Roy or Brandon see the captured children moving around town, watching the townspeople, for example. However letting the audience know about them was important to building the atmosphere. So I chose to create a point of view that could watch but not intervene to give the audience that perspective and that turned out to be the Statue, which grew into a much bigger POV character that I ever intended it to be.

Finally, transitions between scenes merits a lot of thought because it frames the next scene. You don’t just want to think about how you are going to get from one scene to the next you have to think about how you are going to put the events of the next scene into motion. Again, an outline is a great tool for keeping that kind of perspective in mind. However there’s another element to scene transitions to keep in mind.

Chapter transitions are a very important factor in writing your story. Each chapter needs to be a fairly contained narrative with a beginning, a middle and an end but also push the reader into the next chapter so that they’ll keep reading, be it immediately or after they get back from work that evening. It’s tempting to think of chapter transitions as scene transitions.

They are not.

A scene transition is like lobbing a ball from one platform to the next. There may be two or three of them in a chapter and that’s fine, you don’t have to create all of them as if they were chapter transitions. A chapter transition is a hard break in the action. I generally start creating a chapter break by creating a scene transition but when the ball reaches the apex of its arc between platforms that becomes the chapter break point. Then I clean up the two sides of the break point to preserve point of view and continuity.

So there you have it. General things I do while writing a scene, more things I think about than things I actually do when I am sitting at the keyboard pressing buttons or scribbling on a notepad. Generally I try and have these things half way worked out in my mind before I get to the physical writing. Again, this is something to try and I hope it will help you. Let me know how it works for you if you do!

Writing Vlog – 11-22-2023

When the week doesn’t go how you want all you can do is roll with the punches. Case in point: My week this week. At least steps I took to mitigate bad outcomes payed off. Get the full story in this week’s vlog:

A Series on Process – Outlining

At the beginning of the year I set myself a number of writing goals, one of which was to document and share my own process of writing. During the writing of A Candle in the Wind I took a few notes beyond the normal. Now I share the outcome with you, in the hopes that there is something here that can help the writer looking to refine their own process. This is just what I’ve found works best for my own writing. I encourage anyone trying to streamline their own writing process to experiment. There’s no guarantee any of this will prove helpful but creative writing is one of those things where you don’t really know if a technique will fit you until you try.

Note that the point of this isn’t to tell you how to come up with an idea, premise, characters or setting. This is about how you turn those things into a story. So in writing this I’m going to presume you have all that stuff worked out already and talk about how you arrange those things into a narrative.

The first thing I do is outline my story.

A lot of people say that outlining takes spontaneity or life from your story. My understanding from what they describe is that they feel shackled by their outline and cannot depart from it once they’ve written it down or the story feels listless if written from an outline. These are both the result of mindset, I believe. Some people want to explore their narrative as they write it and then just tweak and refine the narrative once they have it all down. Others lose interest in the story once they have all the beats worked out.

While neither of these are an innate shortcoming of outlining your story if you find either of these things to be the case outlining is not likely to be a helpful technique for you. Fighting that bent in your personality probably isn’t worthwhile. Everyone creates differently and it’s better to lean into your own proclivities than to try and contort your own thought processes to a particular technique. But if neither of these are the case I strongly suggest outlining as a huge time saver before you get into the meat of your story.

The point of an outline is to establish a structure and check for major contradictions before you spend hours typing out early chapters. In general I try to lay out between 15 and 25 basic plot beats I want to take place. Some outlining guides suggest including “up” or “down” in your beats but that is not something I do any longer, although I did try it at one time.

Once I have the beats laid out I work backwards, checking if I need to set up anything early on that will pay off later in the story. I also look for beats that contradict each other. Once the outline is written I leave it for two or three days then reread it with fresh eyes, looking for contradictions and asking if I like the story. In general the beats get rewritten 4-5 times. For an idea of what the finished product looks like, here’s the final outline from A Candle in the Wind.

  • Roy is in the jail of Riker’s Cove, watched by Sheriff Avery Warwick
  • We learn what brings him to the Cove, get the first hints of Heinrich von Nighburg’s identity and why Warwick wants him to leave
  • Roy agrees to leave and take the other members of Tyson’s Nine with him but the Fairchilds sneak by into town
  • Roy rallies the available members of the Nine and they make a new plan to sneak by the Sheriff
  • The Fairchilds and Warwick meet when Cassandra frees a child from Nighburg’s influence
  • Brandon and Cassie leverage their saving the Strathmore boy to convince Warwick to let Roy and company back into the town
  • Roy and the Fairchilds reunite but before anything is discussed Nighburg retaliates, sacrificing a captured child to the Voices
  • Roy and Avery get a glimpse of the mindscape before breaking Nighburg’s enchantment and ending Nighburg’s attack
  • Roy and Co regroup and meet with Jonathan Riker’s son to plan their attack on Nighburg’s lighthouse
  • We learn that Jonathan was the one who called in the favor Tyson’s Nine owed his father and the group makes a plan
  • Strathmore joins the group and they break into the lighthouse, discovering the mirror into Nighburg’s extradimensional manse
  • The manse is explored as Nighburg makes several stealthy mental attacks on them
  • Nighburg slips past the town’s defenders as the Voices play havoc with their emotions and awareness
  • He attempts to fulfill his ritual during the eclipse by executing Jenny Riker on the lighthouse beacon but Strathmore intervenes, dying in the process
  • Strathmore’s life is enough to push the ritual halfway to completion and Roy is forced to fight Nighburg in the beacon chamber to prevent it’s completion
  • When Roy throws Nighburg off the lighthouse he accidentally completes the ritual and the Voices of Taun begin to reach into the world fully
  • We see the defenders of Riker’s Cove rally and hold them off for a time but their stamina wanes
  • The Strongest Man in the World arrives at the last moment, the last of Tyson’s Nine, and wards off the Voices, returning the world to normal
  • Characters go their own ways, with the Strongest Man warning Roy that now that he’s touched creatures from Beyond he will never be as firmly a part of his world as he was before

Since I just lay out beats in a text file and edit them as I go I don’t have a change log of the entire thing. It didn’t occur to me to save it. That said, I don’t recall very many major changes at the outlining stage. If you’ve read A Candle in the Wind, however, you can see that some elements did change between this point and the final product.

For example, many things were added, like the mayor of Riker’s Cove or Chester Tanner entering the narrative and the Statue of Jonathan Riker serving as a framing device, but the essential structure only changed in a couple of points. Tanner turned out to be related to the child Nighburg killed. That meant it made more sense for him to go into the tower rather than Strathmore – after all, Stu still needed his dad and Chester’s nephew… well, he didn’t. That change was at once important and not really that big of a deal. It required the change of one character for another but very little in the outline rested on that side character so the replacement was fairly easy to make.

By working out most of the major structural changes at the point where the entire story is less than a page of text it’s possible to check for contradictions quickly and consider the implications of changes on the broad scale without having to streamline details over and over again. This is the biggest strength of the outline.

The second thing is that there is a lot of room for improvisation and creativity between those major story beats. As I said already, the use of the statue as a framing device didn’t come around until after this step. I had all the characters and magic powers in mind before I started on this but some of the interactions, like Brandon serving as the arms of an enlarged lightbox for Johan, were things that came up on the fly. Again, some say writing an outline robs the story of spontaneity but I think that has more to do with a writer’s perception than reality.

As I said before, some authors will undoubtedly find outlining their story robs them of a drive to write it because now they know how it ends. If that’s the case for you then by all means, don’t use an outline. But if you’ve been discouraged from using one because you’ve been told you’re putting shackles on yourself I’d highly encourage you to try it once or twice. It may be just what you need to get yourself across the finish line. Tune in next week and we’ll talk about how to get from an outline to scenes.

Weekly Writing Vlog – 11-15-2023

Finished a major series of essays this week! Feels good, but got further to go. Get the details in this week’s vlog: