Pacing and the Graphic Novel

I've recently finished reading The Hard Way, the latest paperback thriller by Lee Child. I'll post up a review of it shortly (something I plan to do for all the books I read), but one thing that struck me about the book was how many chapters there were - over seventy in total - and how fast I got through it. To get this in perspective, I'm a fairly slow reader (I've still got a John Connolly knocking around from nearly a year back) but this I literally raced through, reading almost a third in one evening sitting!

I put it down to the pace and there's a big hint as to what that was like with the number of chapters already mentioned. It was fast and fired in bursts like a machine gun triggered by Reacher himself (the hero of all Child's thrillers).

I found it fascinating that by breaking the novel up in this way, literally ending a chapter at the end of each major scene rather than, say, resorting to a section break, I was propelled through the narrative at a rate of knots. The pacing was perfect. Breakneck in fact and had me building up such momentum that I wanted to race all the way to the end without stopping.

It got me to thinking about how important pacing is in a novel, and how the really effective pacing is that which the reader isn't even aware of. How the quickfire opening must hook and the need for a breather mid-way through, the skill of using it to break up necessary 'low action' points in order to describe the more delicate intricacies of the story. It's pretty fundamental to how a book reads and even 'feels'.

To take one step away from the written medium, graphic novels (well, the good ones anyway) are great exponents of pacing but here there's the extra dimension of panels to think about as well as narrative. I'd recommend any author who's looking at getting his or her pacing right to read a few graphic novels under this kind of targeted analysis. How the panels are arranged on the page, the number, the 'beat' inherent in the script.

For instance, and I'm going back to my Batman appreciation here, I was flicking through The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller (a superlative example of the graphic novel and a wonderful re imagining of a classic comic book character) and the knowledge of pacing on display is nothing short of superb. Pages absolutely crammed with quick fire panels like flung batarang give way to glorious full page spreads. It's a pretty dense story (and by that I mean there's a heck of a lot to it) but I absolutely cantered through and ended up feeling exhausted and exhilarated at the same time by the end. Besides the fact that the story is great and the artwork is wonderful, the 'beat' of the narrative fires you onward like out of cannon or something. Equally good are books like Preacher, The Punisher: Welcome Back Frank and Watchmen. All are classics of the genre. All display an incredible appreciation and understanding for pace and the dramatic tension inherent in it.

If you really want to see an exercise in meta-pacing, that which crosses several books then look no further than Doomsday - The Death of Superman. I watched an insightful documentary on this very subject a few weeks ago explaining how the writers took the step of adhering to a strict formula in the number of panels presented in an 'episode' of the longer saga. Initially, they went for a large number of panels and as the confrontation between Doomsday and Superman came about the panels would decrease suggesting the immediacy of the impending battle, while also hinting at the immensity of it. By the last 'episode' in the series, when Superman and Doomsday were going toe-to-toe, culminating in the Man of Steel's death (sorry to spoil it folks, but you know how it turns out right?) the writers were down to a full panel per page! It made for quite an impact in terms of the pacing and the book became a best seller.

When I was eighteen I took a course in Media Production, and in the second year I specialised in creative writing and for part of that specialty I studied graphic novel production. I even wrote a full graphic novel that formed part of one of my assignments. I daresay, looking back on it now, it probably wasn't up to that much, but the training I received definitely made me aware of and gave me a strong appreciation for the balance of pacing and dramatic tension in the graphic novel form. I found it fascinating.

Obviously, the graphic novel links up both words and pictures (in most instances) in a fairly blatant way in the telling of a story but I also find that prose writing, at least for me, has a kind of cinematic quality to it as well. I imagine my scenes as if they were a movie or graphic novel. I put my characters into the panels, see the speech bubbles, feel the build up of gradually larger panels until the big, double page spread reveal at the end. I find visualising in this way very useful and from it I get lots of other ideas and it helps my narrative grow in an organic way that it might not have done where it not for this approach.

Serialisation and the Art of the Cliffhanger

As Tuesday rolls to a close, I find myself contemplating this evening's entertainment. Nothing too flashy on the cards tonight, I'm just going to settle down in front of the TV.

Up until a couple of week's ago, I'd be tuning in at 9pm to CSI Miami. However, that all changed when the new season of Spooks (which is about MI5 agents and not a cheap rip off of Ghost Busters...) started and the aforementioned American show took a severe nosedive in quality.

I've watched pretty much every season of the spy show and I have to say that, possibly barring the excellent season one, this one is the best yet. The writers have really upped their game. It's so good I wouldn't miss an episode. The reason it's so compulsive is very simple. Serialisation. Yes, I know, pretty much every season runs in a series but this particular installment has one long-running storyline. In previous seasons the story lines tended to start and finish with a given episode wrapping things up nicely for a fresh crisis in the next installment. It was still good but I didn't feel as invested in it as I do the current season. This is such a great strategy to adopt as viewers will be hooked from episode one all the way to the end. It's the reason massive shows like Lost, Prison Break and 24 have done so well, and why, currently, Heroes is so popular.

It worked for the seventh season of CSI, too (the Las Vegas, original and best, version). This particular show was running the risk of growing stale in its seventh year (what's that about an itch...), plus it was facing stiff competition from its spin-offs set in Miami and New York. But as soon as the writers adopted the serialised formula it became compulsive, even unmissable. They introduced a serial killer format that the series had been crying out for and several long-running story arcs. The fact that the season was also innovative in terms of its story telling with some truly great cameos didn't hurt either, but I'm straying off the point. Back to serialisation...

This compulsion to know what the answers are, to discover the fate of the characters I have become so invested in and spent so much of my time with led me to thinking about how this 'serialisation' effect can be achieved in prose. Indeed, how it is readily employed by many writers, this notion of having one central story arc, throwing in subplots and dividing it into episodes which each - and he's the crucial part - have an 'I absolutely must find out what happens next' cliffhanger at the end of them.

Serialisation employed in this way in the TV equivalent of the 'page turner' in book form. Ever bought one an entire DVD boxed set of a show of this ilk and watch five, six, seven or even all the episodes in one go? It's the same thing.

Getting the viewer/reader to want to know more to get them hooked so they can't put the book down/are desperate for next week's show or immediately hit the button remote for episode two etc is such an important factor. Well, it is for me and the pulpy kind of writing that I do.

I was penning a chapter of Wyrd Dreams (short story coming soon - check out my previous posts for more details) a few days ago and I was coming to the end of what I had planned in my head. I got to a good bit, pausing to go get a coffee (it is my fuel, as I suspect it is for many) and when I came back I stopped. Purely by accident, I'd left it on a cliffhanger (it came about through I trick I use whenever I pause in my writing - either leave it mid-sentence... or leave it at a good bit, where you're aching to write more). I'd planned out a whole extra scene, I had dialogue in my head and knew where, originally, I was going to end it. 'This', though, I thought to myself, 'is so much better.' I'll reroute any extraneous but important information I was going to divulge in that 'lost' scene later on. I had my serialised episode. I had the nail biter I wanted. And what was I going to do for the next chapter? Shift focus completely. Just leave that previous scene hanging. Plant a question in the reader's head: 'What the hell is going to happen next?'

It's not a new idea. Dickens was doing it for years, reading out and publishing extracts/chapters of his books - the books we see and read today - one at a time. Pick up a copy of Great Expectations and you'll see a host of instances where Dickens leaves his story on an absolute cliffhanger.

It's a pretty old trick, tried and tested, well used by thriller writers the world over, but not one that's easy to master...

Wyrd Dreams Coming Soon!

As divulged in a previous post, I'm working a web project in my spare time that ties in to Back from the Dead. As there were quite a few loose ends in the book (so fans have pointed out), I wanted to tell the rest of the story and provide some unique web content for the site at the same time.

Ever since it got mentioned, I've been thinking about all the open threads in Back form the Dead. What happened to Bane in his new role as Hive City Judge, what about Mavro and Nark, does Alicia have her baby? Well, I'm going to tell some of those stories in Wyrd Dreams a sort of short story/novella (it will depend on how long it is when I'm finished). I'll certainly address the Alicia question. In fact, it forms the crux of the story.

I'll be posting individual chapters or webisodes on the blog once I've got through a chunk and they'll be going up periodically. Right now, I'm a couple of chapters in. Keep watching this space for further developments...

And of course, I'd be delighted with any comments on the individual chapters. It's worth noting that this is a strictly non-official project, just something for me and the BftD fans.

Compost from Refuse

Remember just over a week back? It was that fateful weekend when England lost to South Africa in the Rugby World Cup Final. Wait, wait - don't switch off, this isn't a post about sport. Far from it. Rather, it relates to a conversation I had, during said match, with my good buddy Paul about writing.

Now Paul is a clever chap and I'd been badgering him for a while to do some writing. Up until recently, the usual (pretty and fair and reasonable , to be honest) excuses came out relating to day jobs, free time and all other aspects generally getting in the way of literary extra-curricular activities. Well, I was pretty pleased to learn that Paul has indeed starting writing and in the true style of most initial dalliances into the written word, he's kept it under his hat.

This revelation (and I'm getting to the point, now) led us to discuss how I go about writing and, to an extent, I've discussed this in an earlier post so I won't repeat it here. It did bring up an interesting notion, though, that of the bloody-minded writer - he or she that writes no matter what, even if it's rubbish.

I'm a first believer in getting something down on the page, even if it's bad, is much better than nothing. I'm also an advocate of the brain 'warming up theory', though I don't always subscribe to the 'always throw out your first paragraph' doctrine, but occasionally it's a useful exercise.

The truth is, no writing is garbage. Well, that is to say, even refuse can become compost with a little treatment. Leaving the gardening analogy to one side, the message here is that a page of fairly suspect prose is better than a blank page. Remember: you can always go back.

It puts me in mind of an interview I did with Dan Abnett several years ago. I was asking him about his writing techniques and amongst the many pearls of wisdom he imparted, one stuck in mind in particular. He mentioned the importance in his writing of going back over what he'd done and changing a word here and there, a switch of emphasis, a tweak of dialogue until the page really sings.

I like that. All that tweaking and re-reading (aloud is best, I find, especially in the case of dialogue) is the literary gargling before belting out a passion-filled solo.

So, whether gardening or singing (to reconnect with the analogical landscape), even writing the literary equivalent of refuse is better than doing nothing, because you'll get compost with a little work and that's when something of substance can grow and flourish. I reckon Paul's gargling right about now...

The Constant Writer

One of the best pieces of advice I ever got about writing was given to me by an old college friend and relayed on a piece of paper dredged from the internet. There was a whole list of literary tenets directed at the aspiring author, but the one that most stuck out for me was the first. It read simply: WRITE, READ, READ and WRITE some more. The caps were for emphasis, but it implies a lot in it's simplicity. If you're going to be a writer, don't say you're going to do it (and to coin a well known sporting phrase...) - just do it.

It's more than that, though (the READ part of this dictate not withstanding - I'll deal with that later). Applying a little interpretive translation, it doesn't just say WRITE, it actually means WRITE ALL THE TIME. Laxity is the enemy of any author. It certainly dogs my heels like a frothing Hound of the Baskervilles, eyes aglow, slavering maw gaping.

I'll admit it. I'm a bit of a part-time writer. I tend to rest on my authorial laurels and only put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) when I know I'm working on a commissioned project. This is a bad practice. Put simply, listen to the first edict of writing - WRITE. It's not capped up for nothing. By allowing gaps (even the less significant) in actually doing some writing you can allow your mind to slip out of the 'authorial mode', and once you've done that it's very hard to get back into it. I had this problem after writing Back from the Dead. My next commissioned piece didn't turn up until over a year later in the form of a short story. Boy, did I struggle. I reckon the story turned out pretty well in the end (it's the one that featured in Invasion!) but who knows how good it would have been had I kept writing in the interim. I'll never know. I liken it to sporting acumen. You'll only get better if you train and, as an additional kicker, if you don't train, you don't only plateau you also get worse.

It's no different with writing. Train your mind like you would your body. This is where reading comes in, too. By doing both, you're effectively engaging in the mental push-ups necessary to keep your creative acumen sharp. Truth be told, writing anything is a boon to maintaining creative fitness. It's one of the reasons why I plan to do more regular blog posts - at least one a day.

But this brings me on to something else. In order to fill the gaps between my novels and other written projects, I'm going to start writing a tie-in short story/novella for my first literary foray Back from the Dead on this very blog! This is part down to demand from a few fans (bless you all) and to keep my writing mojo at maximum capacity. Bear in mind, though, that this is mainly for me and it is in no way official or represent Black Library. I want to write in my spare time and this is just my way of sharing it with those who have an interest (post feedback at your leisure, of course).

I won't go into detail here, rather I'll save that for a later post where I can introduce the piece properly, explain how it's going to work and maybe delve into a few thought process, too for those of you reading with a psychoanalytical bent to your personalities.

Two Hats/Authorial Mode

Being both an editor and an author has its advantages. I'm in that rarefied position where I get to see, and be on, both sides of the coin as it were.

It has it pitfalls, too, though.

It's a case of wearing two hats, so to speak. The distinction is important. When I work at my day job, I'm an editor but I guess I do have my writer's head on, too, and this helps when working through plots and empathising with other authors.

When I'm home, though, it's the writer that takes over. I was thinking about this recently and it led me to examine what the actual process of moving into that 'authorial mode' or, to continue the initial analogy, slipping on the writer's hat (no doubt a fairly flouncy number with a feathered quill sticking out of it...).

I don't think I'm alone in that a lot of writers (particularly those that either write as a hobby or are just starting out) have day jobs or other draws on their time, and the process of setting that all aside and dipping into your creative zen state is crucial to the externalisation of your inner literary self.

Music helps. It's possible, probable even, that a lot of writers eschew music for silence in getting into that creative place. I find that a soundtrack helps and I've even gone as far as purchasing albums deliberately with a particular novel in mind. By example, I bought both the soundtrack to the movies Pathfinder and The Thirteenth Warrior when I was knee-deep in writing Oathbreaker (my dwarf odyssey released in February next year). It helped me tap into the gruff and bombastic nature of my subject matter. The strong Nordic tones and dramatic aural milieu fostered scenes and characters in my mind. Often, when having a tough writing day, I'd just listen to a few of the more evocative tracks and let my mind wander for five minutes or so; really immerse myself in that moment and be transported into the setting. For Back from the Dead, my Necromunda novel, I'd listen to Mark Mancina's score to Speed as the fast-paced, ultra-dramatic quality of the music really got my blood pumping when writing the action scenes.

It's not just soundtracks, though. I've got a vast library of music that I listen to whilst writing. Right now, I've got Maximo Park playing. The literary, melodic style of this band really engenders a sense of creativity and I find it useful to let it play on repeat and let it wash over and filter through me.

There are other techniques to get into the 'writing moment', too. I find being in a room, isolated from the rest of the household with good light and surrounded by all my collected junk is supremely conducive to a fruitful writing session. I've yet to go down the coffee shop route, but I'm sure this is something I'll discover going forward. In truth, being on the look out for a good location to compose ideas and write is probably a very good idea; certainly, it's one I'd advocate.

Regards location, my theory is that it's in-part down to conditioning. Your mind remembers that this was where you were last when the creative spark started crackling and, buoyed up by the familiar, starts firing those self-same synapses from which inspiration was previous born.

Another trick I sometimes use, if I'm descending into a uncreative fug, is to have a shower. It might sound odd, but I get a lot of good ideas in the shower and even lines of dialogue. Maybe it has something to do with the whole spiritual thing of physical cleansing likened to that of the soul or something; personally, I reckon it's the therapeutic sensation of getting pounded by a torrent of water and the absence of all other stimuli barring that and the four walls of the cubicle. It really builds a good sense of clarity for me.

Dissemination is important when it comes to seeking out your inner author and getting him or her to start talking. It's all about finding (or re-finding) that voice and articulating it on the written page.

Crime

I've just finished reading The Two Minute Rule, by Robert Crais. For those not in the know, Crais is a superb American crime/thriller writer most lauded for his character creations Elvis Cole and Joe Pike. The Two Minute Rule, though, is one of his equally excellent stand-alone novels (I urge you to check out Demolition Angel and Hostage also - the latter was Hollywood-ised a few years ago but the movie isn't a patch on the book) and follows the story of an ex-serial bank robber, Max Holman, who gets out of prison after a ten-year stretch with the hope of 'putting things right' with his immediate family. Holman's plans are torpedoed when he discovers that his wife died of terminal illness a few years previous and his son (who'd become a cop) murdered in the line of duty. In an intriguing twist of fate, Holman turns to the FBI agent who caught him and stopped his campaign of robbery, Agent Pollard, who no longer works for the 'Feeb' and is busy struggling to make ends meet with two kids whilst dealing with her disapproving mother. The plot takes more twists and turns than the average M Night Shyamalan movie and ramps the tension up right to the end. I won't spoil it by revealing the denouement here, but it has a very pleasing cyclic quality that left me reaching for the next Crais thriller.

So what is this rant all about? You'd be forgiven for thinking that I'm doubling as Crais's press agent or that this is just a glowing book review but, no, it prompts something else, something key in any writer's arsenal - the notion of reading widely. We've all got our favourite genres, right? Of course we have. But the importance of tapping into multiple genres and experiencing the prose of many authors is paramount for a writer. I write fantasy and science fiction but my favourite novel genre is crime. Crais, Connolly, Child (what is it with the 'C's' - maybe I should change my name to Cyme?) : they are all fine exponents of this genre and probably my three favourite authors. As well as the genre differential when compared to fantasy and science fiction, they also each offer something different within their field. Crais paints a wonderful milieu within which the action takes place. He creates deep and emotive characters with lives, hang-ups and issues, his plots are twisting and cunning; Connolly is darker, grittier in many ways. His novels are harder to get into but offer shades of horror as well as what might be expected to be ubiquitous in most crime novels (I like this dark slant to his narrative and it's prompted me to seek out another author who delves more fully into this sub-genre, Justin Gustainis, but more of this later...). His novel will have you re-checking locked doors and windows, surveying the street outside that one last time and jumping at the slightest incongruous noise or half-imagined shadow; Child is as different again. Dialogue-heavy, organically information-laden narrative ploughs along with all the power, intensity and inexorability of a freight train. True fans of crime - I defy you to try and put one these lightning-paced thrillers down (it's the literary equivalent of super glue - you can't do it). Child has Jack Reacher, possibly the most uncompromising, double-hard hero of the lot. An itinerant ex-MP (and I mean Military Policeman not Member of Parliament, folks), Reacher lives off the grid but kind of like John Rambo in First Blood (an excellent movie that far, far outweighs the less than accomplished sequels), trouble follows him and before you know it he's gun-toting, sleuthing and skull-cracking with the best of them. These three are all inspiring authors and offer a new narrative dimension that might be found in the majority of fantasy and science fiction stories, less concerned with world building and illusory vistas.

Truth be told, it was a mixture of crime and science fiction that made me want to write seriously in the first place (a combination of Demolition Angel that I picked up at an airport, and Snow Crash by the superlative Neal Stephenson that I read as part of Media Production course I was enrolled in). It just goes to show that inspiration lies around every corner and can take many forms.

I think I've taken up enough page space for now. I'm off to pick up the next Crais thriller or maybe the latest Lee Child or what about that dark fantasy by Justin Gustainis...

My first blog

Well, here I am sat at my laptop pondering on my first blog post. I have to admit, blogging is pretty new for me so I daresay I'll ramble a fair bit before I work out what to say. I guess the first thing would be 'welcome', both to my site and my world, I guess.

By now, you've no doubt realised that you're on the Official Nick Kyme website, author and editor extreme, or maybe you've happened here by mistake looking for the squash player of the same name? (It's true; I keep finding references to it on the web and even got an email once asking me if I was heading over to Bemuda and would I meet my fellow squash buddies there - wish I'd gone...). If not, then maybe you'd read a few of my books and are keen to find out what else I'm up to. More the merrier, I say.

My back catalogue is pretty short at the moment, and it consists mainly of pulpy, genre-based, franchise fiction about the worlds of Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000. I was pondering on this very fact a few days ago and it got me thinking about this kind of fiction as a whole. There's a lot of it out there, be it Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who or even Batman, and it really caters to the true fans of the genre. Me, for instance: I'm a huge fan of the Dark Knight (that's Batman for the unenlightened) and have recently partaken in reading some of the aforementioned genre fiction on this very subject. I have to say, it was pretty exciting; getting to read about one of my favourite characters in a whole new medium: discovering subtle nuances about his character and world, adding more flesh to the bones of the dark Gotham milieu. I suppose that's what fans of the Warhammer fiction I get to write feel, too - well, they do if we (and by 'we' I mean authors) do our jobs right. It's a pretty cool feeling.

For fellow Dark Knight aficionados, these tie-in books come highly recommended. Fear Itself and Dead White are great reads, combining elements of the Batman mythos with the basic tenets of crime/thriller fiction (another favourite genre of mine, but more on that in another post). Far and away the best, though, was No Man's Land, which fans will know is the novelisation of the graphic novel of the same name. It's written by Greg Rucka and, though elements of the original story have been truncated to fit into the punishing novel format, it's an excellent book and comes highly recommended. If you're thinking of sampling the dark delights yourselves, it's a fairly tricky book to get hold of as it's only available in the US. Try the marketplace areas of book seller websites or auction sites and you should find it.

The subject of genre fiction, not just the Batman variety, raises another important point, too. Read widely. I find it really useful to read what other writers are doing in a similar field, both to enjoy and to analyse. It's a good rule of thumb for any writer, and is often inspiring.

I'll keep readers of this blog (if there are any out there...) up to date with my literary habits in future posts. Doubtless, the Dark Knight will come up again but I think next time I'll write something about my favourite crime authors and, of course, what I'm currently writing, too.

Until then...