John B. Rosenman

RETURN TO THE STORYTELLERS HOMEPAGE

Welcome to Storytellers Unplugged. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

{This is a controversial blog I’ve posted at http://www.thedeepening.com/horror/  Some folks have strenuously disagreed with parts of it.  However, I remained concerned about our current leadership and feel you can be polite and kind without constantly apologizing for your faults and advertising them to the world.}                                                                                                        

Remember Neville Chamberlain?

In 1938, this British prime minister negotiated with Adolph Hitler and said of the Munich Agreement that it promised “peace for our time.”  We know now that the Agreement not only gave the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia to the Nazis but tempted the Fuhrer’s desire to conquer and subjugate all Europe.  Granted, Germany’s long-term territorial aims were basically unknown, but appeasement has an historical tendency to open the door to insatiable tyrants whose ultimate goal is to conquer the world.  In 1939, following Germany’s continued aggression, especially its invasion of Poland, Europe was plunged into World War II.

In the realms of Horror, whether we’re talking fiction, movies, graphic novels or what-have-you, the periodic weakness of our nations’ leaders in international relations is an important but  insufficiently explored theme.  This is regrettable, for on the world stage, appeasement and weakness can have colossal, unrivaled consequences.  Indeed, as we know, with the advent of nuclear weapons, billions can die and LIFE AS WE KNOW IT can end.   

My father taught me never to run from a bully because you may never stop running.  Also, it only whets the bully’s appetite for your blood and sharpens his hunger to humiliate you.  Significantly, there are many ways to run, whether it’s by turning tail and scampering off, or by looking someone in the eye and blinking first.  You can even display weakness by letting the other guy talk too long or by letting your emotions distract you from your main task.

This is what happens in my novel, Beyond Those Distant Stars (Mundania Press).  Stella McMasters is finally given her first command of a starship.  However, at the beginning she has difficulty displaying firm, focused, and decisive leadership.  She lets an officer continue to question their orders during an executive meeting.  Later, her first officer bluntly tells her, “Our physician is your subordinate.  He answers to you, not the other way around.”  Stella’s leadership is threatened further when she becomes romantically attracted to a dashing pilot and finds herself distracted when it comes to her duties.

These particular scenes remind me of similar problems involving America’s highest leaders: President Barack Obama and Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.  Nile Gardiner, Director of the Margaret Thatcher Center for Freedom, states that Clinton “has been the most low-key secretary in recent times.”  Certainly, she has been upstaged and sidelined repeatedly by figures such as her own husband traveling to North Korea to negotiate the release of two imprisoned Americans, and Virginia senator Jim Webb embarking on a similar mission in North Korea and Burma.  The perception is that there has been a sharp detour around Clinton’s State Department, which has been marginalized and ignored.  Some observers’ confidence in Clinton has been shaken.  “Who’s in charge?” they ask. “Who’s really representing the Obama administration?”

Some have argued that Hillary Clinton is not at fault here, particularly in the case of North Korea  which requested Bill Clinton’s visit and has a contentious relationship with his wife.  Still, the impression created is that of weak and ineffective leadership, a dangerous situation in the shark-filled waters of a post 9/11 world.  Pursuing short-term goals by placating people who rule by bloody force is a prescription for failure because it is based on a failure to grasp the savage, irrational nature of your enemy.

Doesn’t the present situation with North Korea, a dictatorship seeking to become a nuclear power, sound like the basis of a great international thriller, a spine-tingling novel of diplomacy gone wrong?  If current events continue in the wrong direction, we might not even have to change the names of this page-turner.  Life could imitate art in the most frightening way.

When it comes to President Obama, the failure in leadership may be even graver.  I voted for the man, though I was troubled by his slender resume and lack of foreign affairs experience.  Obama has repeatedly apologized for Arrogant and Impolite America, usually overlooking the historical sins of those he wishes to charm.  To young Europeans in Strasbourg, he announced, “there have been times when America has shown arrogance and been dismissive, even derisive.”  To Russian Prime Minister Putin, he said, “I think it’s very important that I come before you with some humility,” and “in the past there’s been a tendency for the United States to lecture rather than to listen.”  Though honesty and self-criticism are admirable, they can be extremely harmful when you are the sole super-power in a world of nations that almost never admits fault or apologizes for anything. 

By the same token, I think it’s a mistake for the Attorney General to assign a special prosecutor to go after CIA interrogators who may have crossed the line in prying information from terrorist suspects.  Second-guessing the past is fraught with peril.  If we have all these faults, why should anyone respect or listen to us?

President Ronald Reagan once said, “We maintain the peace through our strength; weakness only incites aggression.”  This is a truth that leaders—whether they’re fictional ones like Stella McMasters, or real, contemporary ones like President Obama and Secretary of State Clinton— would do well to remember.

 

 

 

When it comes to writing, possibilities are all around us, and they not only can provide inspiration for our next masterpiece, but they can be a potent remedy for Writer’s Block.  Every day, events both large and small happen in our lives, and they potentially contain our next story or novel.  Not only that, they contain seeds that can blossom in many different directions.

Here’s an example from my own experience.  A few days ago, I went in for plastic surgery to remove three lesions on my head.  It was painful.  After the surgeon cut around the lesions, he gave me shots with a tiny needle to numb them for removal.  As I lay there, occasionally joking with him, it occurred to me that there just might be a story in this.  What if I got up from the table, looked in the mirror, and found that I had a new face?  Perhaps I’d leave the office to discover I’d lost my public identity.  No one recognized me anymore, and that included my wife, my kids, the people at work, my employer, and so on.  Imagine trying to earn a paycheck under these conditions, or getting amorous with my wife when I looked like someone else.

Can you guess what tabloids would make of this?  PLASTIC SURGEON ACCIDENTALLY GIVES MAN A NEW FACE!  Use your imagination and create your own banner headline.

But this is ridiculous, right?  For Pete’s sake, I only went in to remove a few lesions.  Still, in the realm of the imagination, anything is possible.

Here’s another possibility: I gazed in the mirror and saw my new face, but no one else did.  To the world at large, I looked exactly the same.  In fact, even when I was photographed, I looked like the John of old.  But not to me.  To Yours Truly, I appeared to be someone completely different, perhaps even a . . . woman.

Hmm . . . that may be going too far.  Still, can you imagine the interesting complications that would create in my life, the fascinating fictional twists I could give it?  Please ponder the possibilities.

Maybe you’re a realistic writer and have no tolerance for full-blown fantasy.  Very well.  Let’s make the plastic surgeon an attractive woman, and when our eyes meet, we have an instant connection.  At first I think it’s romance and that I’ve found a lifelong soul mate, but later I discover the surgeon’s my daughter from a casual one-night stand thirty years ago.  And woe for me, she wants revenge for never having a father.

No, scratch that last sentence.  It’s too bizarre.

Let’s tack in another direction.  Science-fiction, perhaps.  Or horror.  My plastic surgeon is a mad scientist, or at least a man who finally can’t resist the temptation to try a new, untested procedure.  So Dr. Jekyll injects my cheek with a mysterious solution, and in the days to come, I gradually transform into an evil, physically grotesque creature.  Or perhaps I change into a divinely beautiful one, so exquisite I can no longer live among people.  Or perhaps . . .

By now, you should get the idea.  If you’re a writer, possibilities surround you 24/7 and enrich your life even though they may wear prosaic clothes.  They’re as close and imminent as your next visit to a drugstore or visit to the dentist, even as close as your next sneeze or broken shoelace.  Keep a creative eye open for them, folks, and you just might have your next (prize-winning?) story.

 

 

In my last two blogs, I discussed ways to make our writing more exciting and compelling, to draw readers in and keep them reading.  Back in May, I advised writers to use opening hooks in The Room Was Filled with Naked Blondes, and in June I talked about the end of chapters in Falling for Cliffhangers.  Grab ’em early with the first few sentences or beginning paragraph, and at the end of each chapter, consider including a cliffhanger of some kind—ranging from subtle to over-the top—to make readers turn those pages late into the night, even if they have to go to work early in the morning.

This time around, I’d like to explore one more hook or way to hold readers’ interest.  No, it’s not fine writing, brilliant characterization, or plot construction.  All those are crucial, of course, but what I’m talking about now is what you put at the top of each chapter.  It’s important, too, because when readers move on to the next chapter, that chapter title is the first thing they see.  Chapter titles are also hooks, and like cliffhangers, they can be subtle teases or sledgehammer-like blows.

I’m not saying all novels must have chapter titles.  Many masterpieces and best sellers don’t use them, and I wager most writers on this site have published novels without them, too.  But if you have relied exclusively on strictly utilitarian titles like “Chapter One” or simply “1, 2, 3” in the past, consider trying to do more with the space at the top of each chapter.  Make it work for you as much as you can. 

In my science-fiction adventure novel, Speaker of the Shakk (available from Mundania Press both as a trade paperback and as an e-book), the hero and his girlfriend venture into a mysterious and sinister alien ship.  I call Chapter Sixteen, “In The Belly of The Beast” to increase fear and concern for Theophilus Merlan and his future lover, Ann Benson.  After they visit (and survive) the Xantean ship, they enter an even more deadly vessel, that of the shape-shifting Merotox, who are so hideously ugly that one look at them can kill you.  I call Chapter Seventeen, “The Beauty of the Medusa” to create dread and suspense regarding the protagonists’ safety.  A later chapter, number twenty-six, is hot with action and violence.  Accordingly, I call it “Jaw to Jaw, Hand to Claw.”  If readers have gotten that far, they should (hopefully) want to read on.

To offer a few more examples, one of the novels I’m working on now is inspired by The Wizard of Oz.  Virtually every chapter has a title drawn from the movie and is intended to lure the reader deeper into the action.  Chapter Nine, for instance, is titled “Poisoned Poppies.”  We all know what happens to Dorothy and her friends when they romp through the Poppy field in The Wizard of Oz, but what befalls Jean-Pierre and Ariel might be even worse.  Chapter Eleven’s titled, “ . . . and your little dog, too!”  The Wicked Witch wants not only to get Dorothy, but cute little Toto, too.  Question is, does another evil witch have murderous designs on lovely Ariel, even to the extent of destroying her soul?  If I’ve chosen the title well, readers will ask themselves that, and continue reading.  Other titles, e.g., “Surrender, Dorothy!”, “You Have No Power Here!”, The Witch’s Palace,” and “Off to Meet the Wizard,” also are derived from the movie/book and are intended to appeal to the reader’s interest both in the novel and in the original story that inspired it.

So, writers, don’t forget the Creative Trinity.  Use opening hooks, clever cliffhangers, and intriguing chapter titles, and your audience may not only buy and finish your current novel, but future ones as well.

 

 

In my last blog, “The Room Was Filled with Naked Blondes,” I discussed the importance of starting a story or a novel with an intriguing hook that will pull readers in so they keep turning the pages.  This time around, I want to explore a different but at the same time similar hook that will boost readers’ interest and make them read the next section in a story, the next chapter in a novel, or the next sequel in a novel series.

That other hook is called a cliffhanger.

When I was a kid, I loved to go to the local Colony theater for the next episode in a 12 or 15 part action series.  Remember them?  They featured Flash Gordon, Dick Tracy, et al.  Each episode lasted ten/fifteen minutes or so, and left the kids in the audience begging for more.  We had to come back to see how the Good Guy survived and how the Evil Villain was foiled once again.  We usually knew justice would prevail, but we had to know how the hero survived, since survival—let alone victory—seemed impossible.  For seven days we twisted and turned in our beds, unable to sleep.  Saturday morning couldn’t come soon enough.

Those movie cliffhangers usually weren’t very sophisticated, but baby, did they work.  They brought us back and back and back.  In fiction, too, cliffhangers can bring us back, make us read to three am in the morning or later and not put the book down until we finish it.  Sometimes, like hooks at the beginning of a story or novel, cliffhangers are blatant and manipulative, while at other times they are subtle and work subliminally on our sensibilities.  Whatever the case, like opening hooks, they can facilitate a writer’s basic, number-one purpose, which I defined last time, thanks to John Irving’s The World According to Garp,  as the need to make readers read on to find out what will happen next. 

I’d like to present three or four cliffhangers as examples of how to keep the reader absorbed in your story.  The first one comes from Dean Koontz’s The Taking, which I recently read.  Chapter 1 starts with the pronouncement that “A few minutes past one o’clock in the morning, a hard rain fell without warning.  No thunder preceded the deluge, no wind.”  Obviously, the rain is different, even unnatural, and throughout the chapter, Koontz begins to make clear how different and unnatural the rain really is.  Then comes the Cliffhanger.  Vaguely troubled by the “silver” and  “luminescent” rain, Molly Sloan looks out the window at the porch and finds a surprise:

            The porch swarmed with wolves.  Slinking out of the storm, up the steps, onto the pegged-pine floor, they gathered under the shelter of the roof, as though this were not a house but an ark that would soon be set safely afloat by the rising waters of a cataclysmic flood.

The Taking is not Koontz’s most successful novel, but by the time I read the cliffhanger at the end of chapter one, I was hooked.  Combined with the chapter’s opening hook and the rising discomfort the reader feels throughout the chapter, the cliffhanger seals the deal.  We have the sense of unknown menace, of hostile, perhaps “cataclysmic” forces hostile to man.  Instead of hostile, vicious wolves, subdued, frightened ones appear to view Molly’s house as a refuge.  A refuge—from what?  By referring to the “ark” and using the word “cataclysmic,” Koontz’s suggests a potential disaster of biblical and worldwide proportions.  

To find out exactly what disaster looms, I read for four hundred more pages.  And I bet other readers have too.

Cliffhangers can also be found in short stories, and humorous ones too.  They don’t always promise gloom and doom or The End of Life As We Know It, but they do have to be interesting and enticing.  To mention one example, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s four-page tale, “A Dozen of Everything,” opens with a bride-to-be who receives a wedding gift which disappoints her but intrigues the reader.  “Here I am, being married in four days, and without a rag to wear, and Aunt Hepsibah sends me perfume!”

“A Dozen of Everything” is a piece of light-hearted fluff.  Still, clever humor is tough to write, and you have to keep the reader entertained.  Breaking the stopper in the bottle, Marcie discovers that she’s summoned a djinn who grants her a wish.  Marcie, who’s rather poor, foolishly asks for “a dozen of everything” in her bedroom.  The first section ends with a tantalizing cliffhanger: “‘Did I dream the whole thing?’ she asked herself dizzily.”  Well, did she or didn’t she?  Readers think they know but turn the page to find out.

Later, at the end of another section, we have a second cliffhanger.  Marcie returns home, wondering if the djinn has delivered on his promise to give her a dozen of everything.  She tells herself “It’s all nonsense.”  Then: “She shut her eyes and opened the door.  She walked in . . .”

As you might guess, Marcie made a common error in stories of this kind.  She didn’t phrase her wish wisely, and she will have to face the consequences of her disastrous semantic mistake.  If you want to know what the kicker is, look up the story, which ends with another cliffhanger, a humorous twist that leaves Marcie’s future up to your imagination and will make you wonder what the heck she’s going to do. 

I said I’d like to present three or four cliffhangers, but that was a bit of a fib because it’s Plug Time.  One of my SF action-adventure novels, Beyond Those Distant Stars, was just published for the second time by a new publisher (look for it soon in some brick and mortar stores, on Amazon, etc., and available now at www.mundaniapress.com.)  I thought I’d use the novel to present several examples of cliffhangers.  Please note: you need to vary your cliffhangers.  It’s generally not wise to have them all basically the same, whether it’s the smash-boom-kaplooey!!! of “My God, unless we do something fast, the Earth’s doomed in less than ten seconds!”, or subtle, such as, “He was a bit troubled by the approaching meteor’s effect on certain Earth flora.” When crafting cliffhangers, writers should strive for variety, though a certain kind (e.g., hard or soft, nail-biting or subtle) may predominate.

I start off Beyond Those Distant Stars with a one-word hook:  Emergency!  Stella McMasters is in charge of a nuclear facility and it’s about to explode – that is, have a meltdown.  In coping with this emergency, Stella saves a life, but is drenched in radioactive iodine.  The Prologue ends, “The last thing Stella remembered before she lost consciousness was a voice calling her name.”

What happens to Stella?  Does she die?  In the first chapter, we find that scientists had to remove nearly two-thirds of her body, and she’s been turned into a superhuman cyborg AND as a reward for her sacrifice, given her first command of a ship, the Spaceranger.  Early on, the reader senses that because of her promotion and reassignment, Stella will play a key role in saving humanity from those pesky, vicious aliens who invaded the galaxy a few years before and who have brought humanity to the brink of annihilation.  First, though, Stella begins to become interested in Jason, the jump pilot, whose disembodied brain is interfaced with the ship.  Stella hasn’t even met the guy yet, but the computer translation of his voice stirs her.  The first chapter ends, Oh God, she thought, what a voice!  I wonder what he looks like.

Except for the exclamation point, this is a relatively subtle cliffhanger.  It suggests a future involvement between Stella and Jason, a relationship the reader already senses is doomed because Stella is mostly synthetic, more machine than woman.  Also, she is adjusting to her first, supremely crucial command and should avoid all distractions, especially romantic ones.

Later, Stella and her crew confront an alien ship, which does something unprecedented: it extends a boarding tube.  Despite opposition, Stella sends soldiers into the ship and . . . you guessed it, the soldiers get creamed.  Only a few of the alien Scaleys perish.  This result only replicates what has happened time and time again.  The score is aliens 5001; humans NOTHING.  The aliens have won every single battle by a lopsided score.

What does Stella decide to do?  Unable to escape the alien craft, she decides to lead a contingent of soldiers herself into the alien craft.  Remember: humans know virtually nothing about the aliens, that always self-destruct and decompose when captured.  Also, humans know ZERO about what an alien spaceship is like – how it works, what’s inside, etc.  All they know is that aliens have vastly superior technology that renders the five-year contest analogous to a war between ants and androids.  In this boarding scene, I try to use a hard, nail-biting cliffhanger as opposed to a subtle one by combining the Mysterious Unknown with the expectation of Certain Slaughter for all humans.  The last sentence of chapter five reads (drum roll please):

Teeth clenched, Stella closed and sealed her faceplate.  Then she turned and led her followers into the alien ship.

What happens?  Does she win or lose?  Are her troops toast or triumphant?  The questions matter because if she loses, humanity is kaput and soon to be extinct.  The rest of Beyond Those Distant Stars explores what happens. 

One last note: since I plan a sequel, in the Epilogue all is not Wine and Roses.  New threats loom on the horizon to challenge and threaten Stella.  Hopefully, the reader will buy the next installment in the series, and the next. . . .

And there you have it, potential Cliffhanger fans.  To keep folks reading, consider providing an incentive, a subtle/over-the-top/or someplace in between Cliffhanger.  It’s a method that’s as old as the hills, and a crucial part of your story’s momentum.

 

 

 

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now that I have your attention, we can begin.  My title comes from a long forgotten story.  I can’t remember anything about it except the fact that its first sentence was, “The room was filled with naked blondes.”  Oh yes, I vaguely recall that the blondes weren’t real, just images.  Not quite as exciting, but by that time I was already hooked.

If you can read that first sentence and not read on, then lie down, partner, you’re dead.  The sentence is what they call a “hook” or “grabber.”  Whether you’re writing a drabble, a short story, or a two-million word novel, it helps if the first sentence or first paragraph is interesting and intriguing.  Maybe the reader who randomly plucks your book off the shelf won’t buy it anyway, but if its opening words don’t catch him, then it’s for damned sure the rest won’t either.

An opening hook can’t turn a bad story or novel into a good one, but it’s a crucial, essential start.  From personal experience, I know that if the first few lines of a novel don’t grab me, then that baby goes back on the shelf.  Maybe the back cover blurb will pull me in, but always, if I don’t like the story’s beginning, it’s DOA.

With that in mind, I thought I’d share a few of my own brilliant hooks with the aim of illustrating a point.  And that point is: YOU GOTTA HOOK ’EM FAST, OR YOU’RE BOUND TO LOSE ’EM!

Okay, here’s how I begin my novel, Beyond Those Distant Stars, due out soon from Mundania Press:

            Emergency!

            “Why do they call me?” Supervisor Stella McMasters muttered as she ran down the circular metal stairs of the turbine building on the planet Warren.  “The crew knows more about reactor plants than I do!”  She raced past each of the landing’s flashing red lights that warned of out-of-control readouts in the pit below.

Okay, there’s a lot of back story here I might have liked to put in.  For example, the Empire was invaded by aliens five years before and humanity’s about to go belly-up before an invincible enemy.  But starting a novel with an “info dump,” with tell rather than show is perhaps a writer’s most common mistake.  What I wanted to do was start with action/danger and blend in the exposition later, a bit at a time.  Usually it’s best to start a story in medias res or in the middle of the action.  That way you can snag the reader’s interest and later work in the explanation.  However, the reference to “the turbine building on the planet Warren” indicates that BTDS is science fiction and that there is a crisis at a nuclear facility.  Often you can imply the plot and situation without coming right out and saying it.

Not all opening hooks are action-oriented or pack a sexual wallop.  Some are subtle and haunting, lure you in with a psychic tease rather than a kick in the gut or genitals.  Daphne Du Maurier, for example, begins Rebecca with a nine-word sentence that resonates long after you’ve read it:

            Last night I dreamt I went to Mandalay again.

What makes this so effective?  Part of it is the dream, but I think most of it is returning to “Mandalay.”  Whatever Mandalay is, it has an evocative sound, a hint of something magical and mysterious.  And we want to read on to have the mystery explained and learn what was so unforgettable about Mandalay that it called the speaker in his dream.  Is Mandalay like Xanadu in Coleridge’s “Kubla Khan,” a lost paradise he longed to revisit?

A subtle, quiet hook often presents something a little bit wrong or out of plumb.  Perhaps there’s an ordinary object or objects which are somehow out of place or signify more than they appear to on the surface.  Here’s the beginning of my short story, “Casualties of the War”:

For days, stacks of roofing had stood like abandoned soldiers on the house next door.  Sitting at his computer, Arthur Scott had noticed them through his second-floor window but dismissed them.  They weren’t important. 

There are no fireworks here, nothing spectacular.  In fact, this scene is straight from life.  I’m merely describing what my next-door neighbor had on his roof for days.  Still, I hope the reader wonders what these stacks of roofing are doing there and why they seem to be “abandoned.”  Has something happened to the neighbor?  If so, what?  In addition, we aren’t convinced by Scott’s telling himself “They weren’t important.”  The stacks seem innocuous, but we suspect otherwise.

In The World According to Garp,  John Irving puts it best: You read to find out what will happen next.  Good hooks do that, in many different ways.     

Here’s one last example, and it involves neither action-adventure-danger-suspense or a subtle, quiet appeal.  Instead, it features humor and satire.  Of course, humor can be subtle too, but that wasn’t my objective in beginning “E-Pistles from the Gods.”  What I was seeking was the outrageous.  I wanted the reader to smile, even chuckle.

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               Lost the joy of sex? We’re here to help you!              

              BE A STUD AGAIN! HERE’S HOW . . .

            Granger grumbled as he scanned his morning spam. If only romance were so easy. His doctor had prescribed every pill and potion on the market for him and nothing worked.

Okay, I cheated.  This hook involves sex too, but judging from four million jokes I’ve heard, sex is often funny.  We’ve all received spam-pitches online, offers of can’t-miss products that can jumpstart our libidos and make us supermen (and superwomen) in the sack.  Yes, friends, orgasms by the truckload are guaranteed.  How can you even think of passing this opportunity up?

Did you smile when you read the first three lines?  Did you feel sorry for poor, can’t–get-a-date Granger and hope he’ll find a solution?  Good hooks often involve sympathetic characters, people we care about.  I hope I achieved that here, and motivated the reader to read on.

Hooks—they can be a seductive tease or a brazen proposition.  Whatever the case, they are an Invitation to Dance, with the reader being your partner.  They are also the first step in a writer’s journey, an indispensable beginning that can set the tone for all that follows.

 

“Where do you get your ideas?”  It’s a common question that writers get, especially famous ones.  I’m not famous, but I thought I’d talk a little about the origins of some of my stories and novels, and how they came into being.

One day I was walking through Barnes & Noble, and I saw a book title: The Calm Technique.  Wham-o!  All at once a similar title leapt into my mind with one chilling word change.  The Death Technique.  And I knew at once it would be about a man with a morbid “artistic” gift: the ability to will his body to decay as if he were dead.  Gruesome and sick?  Yes, but it found a home with Dark Arts, a professional hardback horror anthology published by Cemetery Dance Publications. 

And here’s how the story begins:

I discovered the Death Technique the day after my twelfth birthday.  Perhaps it was puberty that made it possible, or the fact that I simply did the right thing at the right time.

It’s more likely, though, that I was genetically predisposed to discover the DT, that it was in my nature to lie down one day and concentrate on a realm somewhere beyond this one and start to dissolve as a result.  Well, “dissolve” isn’t the word.  “Decompose” is more like it, as in ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  “Decompose,” as in there goes my right eyeball, there goes my left.  And darned if I can’t feel my bones emerging from where my flesh used to be.

Charming, huh?  Well, here’s something a little more pleasant, though the origin, as with many of my stories and novels, is extremely slight.  One day I found myself wondering what would happen if a person found that every time he made love or had sex, he changed into the opposite gender, and the only way to change back was to have sex again.  The result was a story called “When I Was Michelle,” and the experience of his first transformation goes like this:

When Michael Truman was seventeen, he made love to his first girl.  It was the most wonderful and exciting experience of his life.

An hour later, his whole world fell apart.

It started with a tingling in his genitals that soon intensified and spread to his entire body.  It felt like a thousand crazed insects were scurrying over his skin and biting deep into his flesh. 

Alarmed, he locked his bedroom door and tore off his clothes.  What he saw made him whimper.

Uh, sorry, folks, I can’t go any further.  This is a PG site, after all.  But I hope you get my basic point, which is that many, not all of my tales originate from the flimsiest of sources.  One story, “High Concept,” sprang full bloom from just glancing at a page when a book fell open.  I didn’t read a single word.  Another, “Ancient Art,” which I just finished, came from watching a documentary on ancient Australian cave art which in ancient days, was accompanied and complemented by musical instruments.  Suddenly the basic plot and theme were just there.  All I had to do was expand them a little.

I even wrote a novel inspired by a single evocative word: Dreamfarer.

Occasionally my stories do have a more substantial foundation and ripen a while in my mind.  That’s the case with my longest and most ambitious novel, A Senseless Act of Beauty, published by Blade Publishing and available at http://www.bladepublishing.org.  Beauty is African SF that takes place on a distant, exotic world in the 24^th century, and its hero, Aaron Okonkwo, is a Nigerian scientist who has to save this “New Africa” from colonial exploitation—just as the original Africa was conquered and colonized.

Where did I get the idea?  For many years I had taught at three historically black universities and was immersed in African-American culture.  Then one day I was sitting near a bookshelf at Norfolk State University and suddenly just knew that if I reached out and picked a book from a shelf, the book would inspire me to write my next novel.  So I reached out and picked a book at random, and when I brought my hand back, I saw that it held Things Fall Apart, a novel by the great Nigerian writer, Chinua Achebe.  In it, Nigeria is conquered by colonial exploitation—something that my hero on the planet Viridis tries to prevent against overwhelming odds.

First, though, since all my novels involve romances, Aaron has to resist a more immediate threat by a delectable native girl who will soon prove to be irresistible:

Peering through the shining leaves of a sarberry bush, Aaron Okonkwo watched the naked alien girl dive into the pond. Her green body lithe, and breasts full and firm in the sun. He wet his lips, feeling his blood course as her delicate, sinuous form glided through the water faster than any human could swim. She moved smoothly, with barely a ripple, her webbed hands flowing with graceful precision. Watching the water caress her long, slender limbs, he felt his body respond.

So where do I get my ideas?  Like many writers, I get them from many places, although it seems that often I reap when I have done only the barest of sowing.  Whatever the source of my ideas, I’m grateful for every one and invite you to come explore them with me at http://www.johnrosenman.com.

 

 

 

 

John B. Rosenman

***Please view the book trailer on my web site at www.johnrosenman.com. Just scroll down beneath the top blog or visit “Trailers And Movie Clips” on the menu to the left.***

Recently I decided to turn my novel, Dax Rigby, War Correspondent into a trailer. After all, many authors I knew online were doing it, and supposedly trailers helped with promotion. So I thought I’d try it, too. Though I’m only a beginner on the subject, I hope the following account is helpful to authors who might consider converting their books—especially novels—into short, dramatic movies of two minutes or less.

A fellow writer gave me the name of a good, moderate-budget designer of book trailers. I contacted her, and filled out two forms. The first was an e-contract and I chose the deluxe, $300 package (some trailers cost much more) which included stills and video segments, music and a voiceover. The contract also specified that I could have up to three revisions with my input. (Eventually I would use more.)

The other form requested a blurb, synopsis, pic of my book cover, all of which I sent, and it asked questions about the “turning points” and “black point” in the novel, the resolution, major conflict, setting, exciting scenes, pictures and types of music to be used. It also stipulated that a script would be provided with suggested pictures.

I e-signed the thing, sent it back, and used PayPal to send her half the payment.

As promised she sent me a script with accompanying pictures. I was surprised by how short and “bare bones” the script was, only about eighty words. Also, it omitted a lot of the plot. But as Kim McDougall, another designer of trailers points out, she hasn’t liked “trailers that tried to tell a story. That, after all, is the purpose of the book. Instead,” she prefers “trailers that offer up a mood, a feeling for the style of the book and only basic plot teasers.” Geoff Nelder, an author, describes it similarly. To him a trailer “is an extension of the imaginative artistic creation. The trailer is not a two-minute synopsis but an insight into the pull of the story. A writer has to hook the reader early in their novel, but the trailer is a multimedia hook taking the art into another dimension.”

At any rate, I looked at the provided script and requested some word changes and one or two new lines. The stock pictures she sent me were a more difficult matter. They didn’t look enough like the people and events in the novel. The hero and heroine were especially difficult. Fortunately, the designer was patient. Over a period of weeks, she sent me more stock photos. Eventually, I made my choices—not perfect, but acceptable.

The designer then sent me an url with recorded music. I went to the site, listened to the two clips she mentioned, and chose the one she recommended. It’s rousing and dramatic, in my opinion just right for Dax Rigby, which is an action-adventure SF novel.

The real problem came with the voiceover. Though I’m new to this game, it seemed too laid back and passive for my novel, which features warring aliens, fights to the death, and hot, passionate sex, not to mention a hero who tries to save two alien species and five billion lives back on Earth. To me, the voice needed to be as rousing as the music, and stir you in your seat.

I informed the Trailer Maker of my sentiments, and we hit a hiatus that lasted about a week. Perhaps, she said, she needed a new sound card. Eventually we decided to nix the voiceover and she cut $50 off the cost.

Next, came more fine-tuning of the video. A few words in the script were changed, and a couple of misspellings corrected. I asked that the publisher’s url be slowed down at the end so that potential purchasers would know where to go.

Finally, after six or seven weeks, we were ready for Show Time! I had proved a demanding, difficult-to-please customer but was pleased with the result (and since then the trailer has received much praise.) I sent her the second payment, and as contracted, she put the trailer on several sites, including YouTube and Blazing Trailers. I, in turn, installed it on my web site, MySpace, Photobucket, Break.com, etc.

Fellow Beginners, be advised. There are many formats out there, and some sites are fussy. In my case, they don’t accommodate Flash Video. Thus, you can’t upload it without converting it. In the modern, rapidly-changing world of the Internet, one size does NOT fit all.

Finally, do trailers, which Kim McDougall calls “the newest fad in book promotion,” actually work? Like her, I don’t know. She points out that “The book trailer phenomenon is still relatively new.” Plus, there are lots of books competing for fewer customer bucks during a deteriorating economy. Since some sites my trailer’s posted on lack counters, I can only guess that in the two weeks it’s been posted, 500 people have watched it. That’s not many, considering that trailers about celebrities’ antics and misbehaving animals regularly attract hundreds of thousands of hits. However, I’m finding new ways to “sell” the video, starting with PROMOS in seven or eight Yahoo Writer and Reader groups. In addition, one trailer site has given it featured billing, and I used Photobucket to send a link to fifty folks that not only connected them to the trailer, but to seven of my books. So far, several friends have responded favorably.

There are, of course, various ways to gauge the effectiveness of trailers, such as your Amazon stats and the number of visitors to your web site. But guys and gals, nothing’s perfect.

At the time I contracted for my first trailer, my assessment was that I would probably not break even, let alone turn a profit. Still, it seemed a good thing to get my name and book viewed by as many people as possible. Also, I felt that if I used a variety of other promotional methods, there would overall, be a positive effect.

One can always hope.

As for the future, I’ve already arranged for my next trailer, which will be done at Norfolk State University with two talented students under the guidance of a Mass Communications professor. This time I wrote the tentative script myself, reducing 116,000 words of A Senseless Act of Beauty to 110. One of the students will be using Photoshop, which I understand will animate the trailer’s scenes. Perhaps we’ll use voiceover.

Finally, since I am a newcomer in this area, I invite comments and corrections. There may be many of the latter, but they should benefit us all. Until my next blog, then . . . See you at the movies!

By John B. Rosenman

As I discussed in a previous post,  promotion of your writing is important. These days, promotion online is especially critical. I know many writers who may sit in their chairs in front of a monitor from sunup to sundown, endlessly hawking their stuff. Trailers, Tagging, MySpace, Facebook, Twitter, Chats, Virtual Tours, Interviews, Blogs on Personal Web Sites, Contests, the Posting of Covers, Excerpts, You-Name-It. The list goes on and on. A major danger, of course, is that you may engage in promo so much that your writing suffers or even comes to a screeching halt. Be forewarned: the Internet is seductive, a potential snare and bottomless sinkhole created by your own vanity. If you join too many Yahoo groups, you run the risk of becoming a talker, gossiper, and socializer rather than a writer or artist.

Used wisely and with restraint, however, Cyberspace is a vast, invaluable resource for Getting the Word Out About Your Favorite Subject, which is, of course, you and your writing. Regardless of their preferences, most writers should use the Internet at least sometimes, for it can pay dividends.

Recently, writers of one of my publishers, Drollerie Press, have begun to promote themselves and their writing by posting guest blogs on each other’s sites. It’s another way of opening up new territory and being seen in places that you don’t usually frequent. This month, I thought I would post my first maiden blog in Drollerie Press’s blog tour. It appeared on Catherine Schaff-Stump’s “Writer Tamago” on January 31, and the url is . . . http://cathschaffstump.com.

WHAT AND WHY I WRITE

Greetings to the readers of this blog, and my warmest thanks to Catherine for hosting this post. I’m John Rosenman, and I’d like to tell you a little about myself as a writer.

Altogether, I’ve published about 350 short stories in places like Weird Tales, Whitley Strieber’s Aliens, Starshore, and the Hot Blood erotic horror series. I’ve also published ten books, six of which are novels, and one of which is a short story collection. Some of the novels, like Drollerie Press’s Alien Dreams, share a basic plot: a man travels to a distant world and has amazing adventures. Why do I keep returning to this story? Well, I grew up during the Golden Age of Science Fiction which stressed the mind-boggling, mind-stretching wonders of the universe and the extraterrestrial marvels of outer space. I read The Martian Chronicles and The Illustrated Man, saw SF thrillers like War of the Worlds, Forbidden Planet, and The Thing, and had my mind splendidly warped forever by their influence. (For more information, check my web site, www.johnrosenman.com).

A sense of wonder and infinite, even frightening possibilities—that’s important to me. I’ve always felt free to let my imagination soar as high as it can go, even if it means taking foolish chances and proposing ideas that some people might laugh at. So in Alien Dreams, my most cosmic novel, Captain Eric Latimore actually changes his species in order to save his crew and the woman he loves. He transforms into a giant, winged, angelic-looking creature and makes love for 10,000 subjective years to the aliens’ beautiful but deadly queen to seal the deal. Then he tearfully says goodbye to his Apache lover and leads the “Angels” across the galaxy—no, across the universe—to do battle with god, or the Gatekeeper who rules this universe. What happens if he wins? What happens if he loses? Well, if he loses, two people die, because he is actually not one person but two. Fact is, a brother shares his brain with him, and they directly experience each other’s thoughts. What happens if the brother disagrees with Latimore and wants to seize control? Ah, that’s another development, another terrible complication for our complex and courageous hero.

I like to think that I write “Wow,” post-Golden Age SF that takes risks and involves high, high concepts. But characters and characterization are important too, perhaps even more important, because the soul of life consists of people, people we know and people we can imagine, even if they sometimes happen to be horrifying aliens who look completely different from us.

I’d like to thank not only Deena Fisher of Drollerie Press for taking a chance on an experimental novel like Alien Dreams, but all the adventurous publishers and editors online that have opened their creative doors to authors like me and others who don’t write to a rigid, successful formula. So thanks go to the editors of Mundania Press who purchased Speaker of the Shakk and Beyond Those Distant Stars, with their frightening and beguiling aliens and their shape-changing, transformative heroes; to Abby Carmichael of Blade Publishing who accepted my most ambitious and experimental novel, A Senseless Act of Beauty, with its neo-African alien world and standalone stories within the larger framework; to Emma Porter of Lyrical Press, who gave the young hero in Dax Rigby, War Correspondent, a chance to live in several electronic formats despite explicit sexuality and unconventional religious concepts. Last, I’d like to express my appreciation to Lauren Gilbert and the folks of Eternal Press, who recently accepted my SF horror thriller, Here Be Dragons, which will be launched next week.

What am I working on now? Hey, I’m glad you asked. Dark Wizard is a novel of alien invasion that actually occurs right here on Earth, because I finally found a terrestrial city that in some ways is just as otherworldly as anything you can find on Altair-4. San Luis Obispo, CA offers Bubblegum Alley, whose walls are encrusted with decades of gum, and a hotel/restaurant which is a deliberate monument to kitsch and outlandish bad taste. And that’s just for starters.

You know, when I was a kid, I used to lie in bed in the dark and listen to the radio. The Shadow. Lights Out. Inner Sanctum. In some ways I’m still a kid lying there, listening to the words in the teeming dark and letting them take me wherever we both want to go.

John B. Rosenman

I’m a child of the fifties, which means that I loved and continue to love SF/Horror movies of that period, even the bad ones. The Eisenhower fifties were a naïve, simpler period in many ways, and this naïve simplicity was reflected in the movies. They often might have been crude and simplistic, but one sin they seldom committed was overlying on CGI and special effects to carry the storyline. Stylistically, they were unpretentious and imbued with an honesty that went with lower budgets and more modest aspirations.

In short, they told their stories in straightforward fashion and with little fuss, which is something that storytellers, especially in this age of high-tech theater glitz would do well to remember.

Recently I went with my wife and son to see the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still. Naturally, in this advanced, high-tech age, we saw it on an IMAX screen, which is roughly the size of Jupiter. For those of you familiar with the 1951 classic starring Michael Rennie as Klaatu, the special effects are minimalist but effective. A flying saucer lands in Washington, D.C., and Rennie emerges from it in a spacesuit. As a visitor, he is restrained, dignified, charismatic, and just different enough to make us believe he is an alien. Besides the ship, the only other significant piece of hardware is a robot named Gort, actually a 7’ doorman wearing a metal-like suit.

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