Writing the Paranormal Novel: Techniques and Exercises for Weaving Supernatural Elements Into Your Story. (34 page)

The verbs are all in past-perfect tense for this one-paragraph flashback. Rowling adds two other brief flashbacks, and then comes out of them with a new paragraph that starts, “But today nothing was to go wrong.”The phrase
But today
leads us out of the past into the present, and the verb was (instead of
had been
) confirms the move.

Sometimes you might need to drop in a longer flashback, one that tells a story complete with dialogue and descriptions. They're helpful for introducing characters and explaining intricate or complicated story lines.

Putting an entire extended section into past-perfect tense, however, makes for clunky, awkward reading, and you don't want to go that route. Instead, you lead the reader in with past-perfect tense and switch to normal past tense for the rest of the flashback. At the end of the flashback, you give the reader one or two more past-perfect sentences, and gracefully slip back into the present.

Brandon Mull does this at the beginning of
Fablehaven
. While riding in the family car, Kendra continues to remember her grandparents' funeral and Grandpa Sorenson's presence there:

The flashback starts in past-perfect tense (
had been and had visited
), then shifts to regular past tense. (Notice also Kendra's reactions to the memory. Her musing about a secret divorce makes the scene more interesting — and tells us something about the way Kendra thinks.)

From there, Mull goes into a full page of flashback, complete with the dialogue between Grandpa Sorenson and Kendra's mother. Like the second paragraph above, it's all in past tense. When the scene nears its end, Mull writes:

Notice the first sentence uses past tense (
moved
), but the second sentence, which moves us out of the flashback, uses past perfect (
had worried
). After that, Mull returns to the main story in its usual past tense.

If you're writing in present tense, flashbacks are done a tiny bit differently. In a past-tense book, the reader is in the present, the book is in the past, and flashbacks are in the distant past (before the events of the novel). However, if you set your book in present tense, you've moved everything forward one step. Your book is in the present with the reader, which puts flashbacks in the more recent past. That means your flashbacks will be in past tense.

Such flashbacks are handled with the same pattern as their past-perfect counterparts. You start with a lead-in written in your normal present tense, then switch to past tense for the flashback.

Avoid early flashbacks. New authors oft en try to start
in media
res with a single sentence of action — good idea — then ruin it by resorting to a flashback — bad idea — as in “Melissa faced the werewolf in the misty alley. She couldn't believe it had come to this. Just ten minutes ago she had been walking home with her boyfriend Zack. He had been joking about the eerie mist and how any second a werewolf would probably ambush them.” A decent opening hook is sidetracked and ruined by a scene-slowing flashback. If the information in an early flashback is truly necessary, you probably started the scene too late. In the example above, it might be better to start with Melissa's boyfriend making a joke about the eerie mist (though better just to dump the information altogether — that werewolf is dying to attack).

Paranormal books are given to fights. The idea of a fictional fight is nothing new, but in a paranormal book, things can get a little more complicated. The list of weapons is longer, for one thing, and the outcomes more varied. Writing for a fight also differs from writing for other types of scenes. All of this makes fights worth examining here.

Since paranormal books range across time and space, you might find yourself writing a fight that involves fist and feet, tooth and claw, guns of any sort, or a host of medieval death options such as knives, swords, staves, pole arms, hammers — and this doesn't begin to touch the weapons found in non-European cultures. Humans are very inventive at finding ways to injure and kill one another.

Assuming you aren't already an expert in violence, this means you have to do your research again. Among your readers will inevitably be a bunch of experts in using whatever weapon you decide to hand your protagonist, and you don't want to look foolish. You aren't alone. Shakespeare included a number of sword fights in his plays, but most of his audience knew how to use these weapons. This required the actors at the Globe to know proper Elizabethan sword work because any unrealistic moves would instantly stand out — and Elizabethan audiences thought it sporting to throw half-finished food at anything resembling bad acting. Your readers aren't likely to fling rotten oysters at you, but you don't want to let avoidable mistakes creep into your writing, either.

Although we already talked about research in chapter four, this particular area is specific enough to require its own discussion.

Several resources present themselves when you need to do research into combat. Books and the Internet are useful for looking up any number of weapons and combat techniques, of course, but the printed word isn't all that great for getting across how a joint lock works, say, or the way a pistol really feels when you fire it. Too many new authors rely on movies for this, and that's always a mistake — Hollywood is more concerned with what looks good than with accuracy, and a number of movie tricks have mistakenly made their way into polite society as a result. (Bullets, for example, don't spark when they glance off metal, and punches don't make a
pshh!
noise when they land.)

A number of online video sites have instructional videos on how to fight hand-to-hand and with various weapons. Another great place to ask is at a local martial arts school. Just walk in and introduce yourself using the rules in chapter four for interviews. You'll find quite a number of people willing to show you how fights really work — both teachers and students. (You may recognize the voice of experience here.) Martial arts schools will also have weapons instructors who may talk to you, but they'll oft en be limited to one type or style. However, if you need to talk to someone about fencing or broadsword work instead of short staff and katana, a martial arts instructor may know of someone in your area you can talk to, so they can be a good starting point.

Another good group to contact is the Society for Creative Anachronisms, or SCA. They're dedicated to the study and re-creation of certain aspects of medieval culture, including combat. If your town has a renaissance fair or similar festival, you can bet the SCA will show up. Local chapters are also readily findable online, ironic as that may seem. Most SCA members will happily give you information, tips, and even demonstrations on armed and unarmed combat — or other aspects of medieval culture that might creep into your book.

One time, I had the good fortune to join a group of writers who had persuaded a group of SCA folk to give us a daylong demonstration of several types of fighting, both medieval and modern. These guys were
experts
— many were former military. We were treated to a completely free set of workshops on knife fighting, using swords of many sizes, axe throwing, how to ambush and assassinate someone in a dark alley, and more ways to deal death than I knew existed. It was wonderful — and it came about simply because one of my friends asked if they'd be willing. The resources are oft en there if you're willing to speak up.

Some paranormal books involve hand-to-claw or hand-to-fang combat. On the one hand, this is a little trickier — you have no true frame of reference for how a normal human would fight a half-human, clawed, and fanged werewolf. On the other hand, this makes it more fun — you can experiment with your combat to see what works. Here again, a local martial arts studio can be a good resource, since experts in hand-to-hand combat have a better shot at extrapolating a realistic fighting style. It's also worth watching videos of normal animals. If you're writing about werewolves, look up shows on wolves. If you need information about claws, check out shows about tigers and panthers. Watching the original animal in action will give you ideas on how the animal moves, too, lending yet more verisimilitude to your fiction.

When it comes to local information about pistols, no one beats the police. They
have
to stay well informed about all kinds of armed combat — it's a survival thing. Some local law enforcement agencies also offer courses in civilian gun safety, and if your novel is going to include a significant amount of pistol play, you may find it worthwhile to enroll. Finally, modern-day supernatural protagonists may well run into the police in your book, and it's not a bad idea to know correct police procedures. (Cop shows on television almost never have it right — Hollywood strikes again.) If you want to find out about either police procedures or weapons safety, call up your local police agency and ask to speak to the public relations officer. It's that person's job to answer questions like yours, and he's glad to do it, especially if it means someone out there will get procedures right. Sure, you have a good imagination, but only a police officer knows how a cop would really react if confronted with a giant wolf, girl with fangs, or other threat that didn't fit the books.

Deciding who stands where and moves in what way is called
blocking
. Blocking out a fight can be fun and challenging at the same time. Some people are good at doing it in their heads, but others (like me) aren't so talented, especially when more than two or three people are involved.

To help visualize how a particular fight would work, get two or three good friends to be stand-ins so you can see how things will work. (My sons love doing this.) You can also use those little lead figures for gaming to see who stands where, or, in a pinch, sketch out a little map on a piece of paper like theater directors do. Moving the fight from your head to a more physical location helps not only to make the combat more realistic, but can also give you ideas you hadn't thought of before. It also helps point out impossibilities — characters who couldn't reach that far or who can't be in a certain place by the time a fight ends.

Something else that Hollywood gets wrong — fights go
fast
. They start fast and they end fast. A fight that lasts more than thirty seconds is considered long. I hold a second-degree green belt in karate, so I have a certain amount of firsthand experience here. This was reinforced when I attended that SCA workshop — the ambush technique they demonstrated took down the victim in less than three seconds. Fights are also the epitome of an action scene. Quick, snappy pacing is what you need, and along with it, you need quick, snappy prose.

Your writing style may run gothic or flowery or downright poetic. But when the fight starts, a lot of those stylistic points need to fade into the background. In a fight — or any other action-based scene — pretty prose is a distraction. The extra words get in the way and slow down what needs to be a fast event.

Take a look at the words oft en used to describe hand-to-hand fights:
kick, punch, smack, hit, crack, break, slap, block, strike, slam, dodge,
and the list continues. Many of these words are onomatopoeic — they sound like what they mean — and they're a single syllable long. Quick, punchy prose indicates quick, punchy action. Words for sword fights go the same way. Steel blades can
ring, clang, slash, thwack, poke, score,
and
slice
. Okay,
so parry
has two syllables — the pattern remains. Words associated with guns continue in this vein:
fire, shoot, bang, crack,
and more. All these words have a violent connotation to them, meaning they're well suited to getting the point across. Use them, and be direct.

Fight scenes are usually best done with shorter sentences as well as shorter words. The quick sentence structure indicates quick action. Longer sentences, even if a lot happens, feel like they take up more time. Look at the difference:

An okay fight scene, but it suffers from an abundance of long, clunky sentences. Now try this version: