Why would ANYONE want to write a Novel? (a humorous post)

Wacky thoughts as my 21st novel hits bookstores across the continent...

I actually wrote my first novel on a dare.  This is not a particularly good reason to embark on such an endeavor, and probably illustrates exactly why my kids think I shouldn’t be allowed outside of the condo without a leash.

But true, it is.  Some years ago, I was having a good time at the bar of the Toronto Press Club, and a local columnist (an older guy) said to me, “You’ve written comedy, you’re a syndicated columnist, and you’ve got a slew of short story publications to your name.  Why haven’t you written a novel?”

Upshot, he dared me.  Since then, I have sworn off scotch and older men.

That doesn’t tell the whole story though.

I love writing fiction.  I wrote my first story at eight, and won my first award at eighteen. 

It started even before that.  At four, I was making up stories.  My parents called it lying. I figure that was short-sighted of them.

Still, after 21 books, I have to ask myself, Why would ANYONE want to write a novel?  Truly, I don't understand why so many people do.

Writing a short story is FUN!

Writing a novel is HARD.

It takes me a year to write a 70,000 word novel.  Tons of research and 1000 hours of slumping over a keyboard.  This is a peculiar way to spend your time.  Wouldn’t it be more fun to be out on the golf course?  Or meeting friends for lunch?

Speaking of friends...my pal and colleague Lisa de Nikolits puts it so well:

 "I keep telling myself it's an honour and a privilege to still be on the playing field while so many others aren't and that's true, but still - more work rewarded by more work!"

(Lisa joins us in June for a guest column.) 

I suspect new novelists like to think they will achieve fame with a novel, that they couldn’t achieve with a collection of published short stories in respectable magazines.  I don’t know about that.  That hasn't been my experience.  You can have ten awards, and continual contracts and still not be a household name.  

Not to mention, everybody who can sit at a keyboard feels they have the right to criticize your year's work. 

So why do I do it? I really have to wonder.  I'm not sure the answer below will satisfy even me.

I seem to have this mental illness that involves characters in my head demanding that I write their stories.  If I try to ignore them, it gets awfully noisy in there, and I can’t think.

Or put another way, writing novels is cheaper than a therapist.

Melodie Campbell fights with her characters while thumping out their stories on the shore of Lake Ontario.  Her 21^st book, The Pharaoh’s Curse Murders, is now available at B&N, Amazon, Chapters/Indigo and all the usual suspects..  If you like the humour in The Goddaughter series, look for Pizza Wars, first in a new novella-length series!  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Unintended Benefits of Reading Nonfiction, Pt. Deux

Last time around I talked about nonfiction books that had helped make me a better writer, influenced my style, made me think, etc. And when I asked some writer friends about nonfiction that influenced their own writing. 

Several of my friends wrote about writing craft books that helped them, and I posted examples of both in my last blog post which you can find here.

This go-round I'm back with more examples of both types of recommendations. I hope you find something interesting and useful here.

*    *    *

Writer, Editor, Publisher & Communication Guru David Schlosser had quite a bit to say on the subject: 

If I had only one book, it would be The Science of Storytelling by Will Storr. For all the chatter and 
conventional wisdom we hear about "narrative" and how humans are genetically wired to respond to stories more than facts, this book explains the actual mechanisms of action:

If I had more than one book, it would be two series of three books that I often tell colleagues, "If you read these books, you will learn everything you need to know about being a professional communicator of any kind - from PR and marketing to writing novels."

Series One

The Science of Storytelling by Will Storr explains how stories affect humans at a cellular level:

Into the Woods: A Five Act Journey Into Story by John Yorke explains how patterns of storytelling affect the audience and, IMHO, the right approach to what conventional wisdom frequently and inaccurately refers to as "the three-act structure."

Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting by Robert McKee translates Storr's and Yorke's strategic insights into tactics that put storytelling meat on structural bones. For all the good sport made of McKee's formulaic approach, this book is a classic for a reason.

Series Two

Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman explains through research and study findings the cognitive
biases created by the human affinity for telling stories. Kahneman explains Storr's sources of the evolutionary biology that tunes humans to ignore facts and follow emotions.

Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion by Robert B. Cialdini is the refence bible for anyone and everyone in the industry of motivating people to action. Cialdini wrote this book as a manual for people to resist the strategies and tactics of snake-oil salesmen and related hucksters. No consumer advocate ever sought his advice, but now he's among the highest-paid speakers at sales conferences around the world.

Alchemy: The Surprising Power of Ideas That Don't Make Sense by Rory Sutherland explains how and why irrationality is the path to success in storytelling. This book is a breezy, entertaining flight over the terrain mapped by Kahneman and Cialdini.

*    *    *

Edgar-Nominated Author Sam Wiebe was much more succinct:

(Literary Critic Harold) Bloom is a great choice! 

(For obvious reasons, I quite agree! - again see my last post here.)

Book: Adventures in the Screen Trade by William Goldman

Why: Goldman's no-bullshit discussion of the film industry and his screenwriting projects is funny and fascinating. 

*    *    *

Mary Higgins Clark Award-Winning Author Lina Chern had a great pick: 

Book: In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

Why: We forget sometimes that this book is nonfiction, because the story it tells is so impeccably told. It’s a stunning reminder that all life has the potential to be art, in the hands of the right storyteller.

*    *    *

Horror Writer Scotti Andrews picked one of the most acclaimed nonfiction authors of the past two decades:

I don't read a lot of nonfiction but I have read Jon Krakauer and really appreciate how he weaves facts into a storytelling arc. Especially Under the Banner of Heaven and Three Cups of Deceit.

*    *    *

Agatha Award-Winning Author Kate B. Jackson cited a classic of the writing craft genre: 

Book: The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface by Donald Maass

So the reason I like Donald Maass' book is he takes an interesting approach to having an emotional impact. He talks a lot of how each reader is bringing their own stuff to what they read. How you don't necessarily want to the reader to take the journey with your character but you want to provide space for them to take their own journey. 

He also talks about how your character's experience doesn't usually translate to the reader unless you give opportunities for the reader to have their own experiences. 

Show don't tell but also don't try to control what you want someone to feel. 

*    *    *

And that's it for now. Hope you saw something that inspired you or at least made you think!

See you in two weeks!

Literary Influences: Nelson Algren

I'm delighted Tom Milani is joining us today to talk about literary influences. Here's more from Tom:

Literary Influences: Nelson Algren

by Tom Milani

Tom Milani

I first read about Nelson Algren in an editorial in the old Washington Star shortly after his death on May 9, 1981. The editorial included a quote by Hemmingway on the power of Algren’s writing: “Mr. Algren can hit with both hands and move around, and he will kill you if you are not awfully careful.” [1] It ended by noting that Algren had died alone. I wanted to know more.

I was in college at the time, and one of my English professors picked up a used hardback copy of The Man with the Golden Arm for me at Second Story Books in Georgetown (I think it cost $3). Hemmingway’s endorsement suggested lean, muscular prose. But Algren had produced something entirely different.

Frankie Machine, the novel’s protagonist, a card dealer, sometime drummer, and morphine addict, is one of the underclass, barely getting by. Algren doesn’t portray Frankie and his friends as noble because they are poor, but he expounds at length on what their poverty means in a capitalistic society:

The great, secret and special American guilt of owning nothing, nothing at all, in the one land where ownership and virtue are one. Guilt that lay crouched behind every billboard which gave each man his commandments; for each man here had failed the billboards all down the line. No Ford in this one’s future nor ever any place all his own. … With his own eyes he had seen the truer Americans mount the broad stone stairways to success surely and swiftly and unaided by others; he was always the one left alone, it seemed at last… [2]

I read those lines over forty years ago and am still struck by how Algren dignified his subjects by writing about them lyrically. For him, the poor weren’t props, stand-ins for the evils of capitalism; instead, they were characters in their own right, for better or worse. And Algren didn’t shy away from the worse—he’d experienced his share of poverty and had been in jail for a petty crime—his descriptions not the product of a fervid imagination but rather lived experience.

The Man with the Golden Arm was Algren’s most famous work, winning him the first National Book Award, but Never Come Morning, published five years earlier, in 1942, put him on the literary map. The cover of my Avon paperback edition is pure pulp: Two sneering young men on a stairwell look down at a teenage girl sitting on a box spring; between them a muscular young man tries unsuccessfully to stare down the boys. The cover screams: TEEN-AGE TRAGEDY! The Great Novel of JUVENILE DELINQUENCY. The story is tragic, but that tragedy is the result of characters who can’t escape their circumstances: 

The world of Never Come Morning is a finely rendered, gray-hued, fatalistic place populated by angry, hungry young people whose lives are governed by rules that are clear, though impossible to abide by. Not one of them is innocent. They prey foremost upon each other, but also upon the wider world, and they acknowledge responsibility for their actions and pay for them. The reader might empathize with or fear them, but they are above pity, victimhood, or stereotype. [3]

Years later, H.E.F. Donohue asked Algren why he’d written the books he’d written. Algren answered that he’d “tried to catch the emotional ebb and flow and something of the fear and terror and the dangers and the kind of life that multitudes of people have been forced into with no recognition that such a world existed.” [4]

Algren wrote other books, both fiction and nonfiction, and for a while was famous. 

But The Devil’s Stocking, his novel about Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, was first published in Germany and not with an American publisher until after his death.

I’ve written at CrimeReads about how James M. Cain was my gateway drug into writing crime fiction, but I think Algren’s empathy for his characters and his ability to dignify them with lyrical prose were foundational in my development as a writer.

Who were your literary influences, and what did you take from them? Please let me know in the comments.

Notes:

[1] Bettina Drew, Nelson Algren: A Life on the Wild Side (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1989), p. 210.

[2] Nelson Algren, The Man With the Golden Arm (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1949), p. 17.

[3] Colin Asher, “But Never a Lovely So Real,” The Believer 95 (June 1, 2013), https://www.thebeliever.net/but-never-a-lovely-so-real/.

[4] H.E.F. Donohue, Conversations with Nelson Algren (New York: Berkley Publishing Corporation, 1964), p. 86.

***

Tom Milani’s (www.tommilani.com) short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and online. His stories have been shortlisted twice for a Derringer, and “Barstow,” which originally appeared in Mickey Finn: 21st Century Noir vol. 5, was an honorable mention for The Best American Mystery and Suspense 2025. “Mill Mountain,” which originally appeared in Black Cat Weekly, was selected for The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2026. “A Sign of the Times,” which initially appeared in Sleuths Just Wanna Have Fun, was selected for The Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2026. Places That Are Gone, his debut novel, will be reissued by Open Road Media this fall.

The Second Time Around

 

I came to a crucial decision recently. The second draft of a story is my favorite.

I go through a lot of drafts.  I agree with Gore Vidal who said "I have nothing to say, only to add."  The novella I plan to send to a magazine this month is on its eleventh draft. But Numero Dos is my darling.

The first draft, well, that's hard work.  Sometimes the words flow like a waterfall but on other days it feels like pushing a marble uphill with your nose. Just trying to get something down on paper.

But the second draft, ah... 

You see, it's the first time I actually get to read my story.  It exists from beginning to end.  I see it with all its gifts and flaws.  I usually find pieces that need to move to different parts of the story, and realize that whole paragraphs or even scenes didn't make it from my teeming brain to the computer screen.  This is the part of writing I like best.

After that each draft shifts more from the building process to the polishing process.  There is a danger, of course, in polishing too much, to the point where you lose the excitement that you started the story with. 

To be honest, if there were more markets available for my stories I would probably do fewer drafts.  Hey, I can only send so many stories per year to the three or four pro mags.  

But also, being honest, on that eleventh draft I still find a few improvements to make...

Con Me!

Attending crime fiction conferences and conventions is often part of the writing life and can sometimes play a role in propelling a writing career forward. So, the decision to attend or not attend them is important, and it’s important to understand the difference between them and to be prepared for some of the things that make a conference or convention more or less successful.

Michael and Temple,
dressed for the
Malice Domestic awards banquet

Each conference and convention has a different vibe, and, if you are a writer, the vibe you feel may depend on where you are in your writing career, whether you are at a craft-based event (a conference) or a fan-based event (a convention), how appropriate the facilities are for the event, and how the event is organized.

FAN-BASED CONVENTIONS

At fan-based conventions, the superstars may be fêted, make presentations, and participate in panels. Their time off stage may be spent with agents, editors, and publishers, and fans will seek them out for autographs, conversation, and occasional fawning.

A mid-career writer will participate in a panel or two, might meet with an agent, editor or publisher, and may have a fan or two seek them out.

An early-career writer—someone with a single book from a small press or a few published short stories—will be lucky to snag a seat on a panel and will likely be among the fans seeking autographs and conversations with the superstars and mid-career writers.

A beginning writer—a writer who has yet to see publication in any form—is unlikely to participate in any panels or presentations unless they have specialized knowledge to share (medical examiners discussing autopsies, for example). Beginning writers attending a convention are, essentially, fans.

CRAFT-BASED CONFERENCES

The vibe is different at craft-based conferences. Everyone in attendance is there to teach others how be better writers or is there to learn how to be better writers. The implied student-teacher relationships reduce the differences between writers and increases the interactions between writers at all levels, especially at smaller conferences.

These are excellent opportunities to improve one’s writing skills and make connections with agents, editors, publishers, and other writers.

COMBINATION EVENTS

Some conventions offer writer-centric sessions in addition to fan-centric sessions. Even so, because the fan experience takes priority, opportunities for writers to improve their craft are limited.

At a conference with multiple sessions on craft and business, a new or beginning writer may spend much time attending sessions and learning. A superstar writer may present one or more sessions and will engage with numerous new and beginning writers interested in learning at the feet of the masters. A mid-career writer straddles the mid-point between the two ends of the spectrum. They may have little interest in attending the presentations, not because they think they know it all, but because chances are they’ve heard it all. At the same time, they have the potential for engaging conversations with writers at all levels of experience.

FACILITIES

Facilities play a significant role in how writers experience a conference or convention. If the meeting rooms are too large for the audience, if the rooms are a significant distance from restaurants and bars, if the hallways are too wide, and if it is easy to be anywhere but at the event (for example, returning to one’s room or leaving the hotel to sightsee), opportunities to meet and interact with other participants is minimized. This puts shy and socially awkward writers at a disadvantage.

ORGANIZATION

An event with one or two presentation tracks keeps attendees confined to a small area, potentially increasing interaction among attendees. While a large event with multiple tracks has attendees frequently shifting from room to room, which increases opportunities for impromptu hallway meetings, a large event spread over multiple rooms and multiple tracks decreases the odds of unplanned meetings with specific people.

VALUE

Few writers have the time and money to attend multiple conferences and conventions each year. So, how might writers make decisions about where to spend their time and money?

If the goal is to sell one’s books or to meet and interact with fans and/or potential fans, a convention is likely the best use of time and money.

If the goal is to share knowledge or to gain knowledge about the business and craft of writing, a conference is likely the best choice.

There are conventions that try to appeal to the entirely of the mystery reading and writing community, such as Bouchercon, and others that appeal to specific subgenres, such as Malice Domestic and ThrillerFest.

There are conferences that try to cover the entirety of crime writing, and others that concentrate on novel writing or short story writing, such as ShortCon.

There are both conferences and conventions that appeal to writers in specific geographic regions, attended primarily by local fans and/or writers.

COST

And then there is the cost—not just the registration fee, but hotel, travel, and meals, as well as time away from family and the day job.

Some of us earn enough from our writing to pay for the (tax-deductible!) expenses of attending conferences and conventions, but most of us do not, and the choice between attending Bouchercon and taking the family to Disneyland is a real-world dilemma.

Attending mystery conferences and conventions can have a significant impact on one’s writing career. Attending might mean meeting an agent, editor, or publisher you later work with. Equally important, attending will put you in an environment that—unlike your day job and daily life—surrounds you with people who do what you do, read what you read, and enjoy what you enjoy. That alone may motivate you and inspire you.

VALUE

So how do you determine the cost/benefit ratio when applied to your writing career?

Attending conferences and conventions has led to numerous opportunities I would never otherwise have had. I’ve created and/or pitched anthologies at Bouchercon and SleuthFest; I’ve co-authored stories with writers I met at Bouchercon and Malice Domestic; I’ve co-edited anthologies with writers I met at Bouchercon and Malice Domestic. I’ve worked in various other ways with editors, writers, and publishers I’ve met at these and other conferences and conventions.

And though I highly value these opportunities, I must be honest: The cost of attending these events is greater than the dollar value of all the projects that have come my way because of my attendance.

Ultimately, writers must weigh the costs vs benefits themselves to determine if and which conferences and conventions they should attend, if they attend at all.

So, how about you? What opportunities have you had that you likely would not have had if you had not attended conferences and conventions? What factors do you include in your personal cost/benefit analysis when considering future attendance at such events? And what makes a conference or convention more enjoyable or less enjoyable?

Just one more click for the road

      For an infomaniac like me, access to the Internet is a little like an alcoholic getting a free, all-you-can-drink pass at the local bar.  Only good on weekends and during happy hour.  I’ve mostly found this to be a good thing, since I’ve been hoovering up random bits of haphazard knowledge, facts, commentary (some benighted) and all the other flotsam and jetsam floating around the cultural soup since I learned how to read.

      As you know, however, the online world makes all this lubriciously easy, which can easily result in addiction (not that I wasn’t hooked already.)  Worse, a lot of very serious people are now warning that this spew of digital effluent is rotting our brains, destroying social bonds and reducing our ability to concentrate down to a few nanoseconds.  Naturally, I don't think any of this applies to me, since I am far too disciplined and self-possessed, utterly immune to cyberspace con jobs.  You're not gonna get me, buddy.

      Though I wonder.  Somehow early on I developed my own version of speed reading, swallowing up whole chucks of material at a time.  My wife challenged me over comprehension, and after I proved my case, I think she’d sign an affidavit stating that I can, in fact, retain a lot in a short amount of time.  When information only existed on the printed page, this might have been a helpful trick, but with the speed and profusion of digital content, perhaps I’ve let the cart get too far in front of the horse.

      I used to spend all Sunday reading at least three print newspapers cover-to-cover.  Now I can travel the same terrain, plus a bunch of blogs, emails and message chats, a few magazines and a number of newsletters, some of which you might find a little obscure (Construction Physics anyone?) before dragging my ass out of bed to start the day.

      This is not Deep Reading.  More like skipping stones across a still pond.  To be fair to myself, I usually down shift when stumbling onto something I really want to learn about and try to stay attentive long enough to actually absorb the information.  I’ll also give deference to the excellent writers out there, which are plentiful despite what you might hear, since style can be just as enriching as content.

      There’s no doubt that having such abundance of information is a real service to fiction writing.  I actually enjoy clicking off into Wikipedia to fill in some detail, or fact check as I go.  As a research tool, the Internet is a Ferrari compared to the horse and buggy approach we used in the past.  (Though as a rule of thumb, I trust but verify.) Three point corroboration is a reliable standard, though sometimes I’ll let it go at two.) 

      But does all this vast abundance make one a better writer?  I honestly don’t know.  I suspect not, since the best writers I can identify accomplished the task way before Steve Jobs got that digital twinkle in his eye.  More likely, it’s given some very good writers a chance to crank out a lot more work in a shorter time.  It’s given them a far bigger universe to examine and draw from.  It’s made the pursuit less lonely, since with a single click they can connect with their true friends and colleagues, find a little encouragement or respite before diving back in again.   Though perhaps this ease of communications has created more distractions than benefits, more excuses to avoid rather than compose.  And worst of all, a degradation of their ability to concentrate on their own private, quiet thoughts, from whence derives their actual brilliance. 

     Nevertheless, whatever the pros and cons, this is the world in which we’re living.  There’s no going back. The only thing a person can do is make the best use of the situation.

      Try to extract the benefits without being corrupted by all the destructive clamor.