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Efficiency in Dig Down

March 19, 2019 by admin

In order for the scene’s in Preston’s townhouse  to feel fast-paced like the rest of Dig Down, they needed to be efficient. There was no room for the literary equivalent of Mumblecore, where there were a lot of useless actions or dialogue. Everything had to be crisp and serve a purpose.

Chapter 3 has Rob and Preston really speaking for the first time. All the reader knows is that they have a strained relationship, based off the tepid reception Rob gets when he first arrives and is looking for help. The challenge here was not only making the conversation that followed feel natural, but feeling like there was a reason for it being there.

While Rob is muting the TV so he doesn’t have to face what he’s done, and drawing the blinds so no one can see him, he tries to fill the void of silence by commenting on Preston’s possessions. Originally, talking about his furniture was meant to just be a placeholder, but the more I thought about it, the more what Rob was saying fit.

Rob’s monologue about Preston’s home served to not only be a way for Rob to stumble through starting a conversation with his father, but shed light on the characterization about both of them. Rob’s observations about how everything here is twenty years old and is just as good as they day they were bought is meant to lay the foundation for the time of character Preston is. Preston throughout the story constantly defends how tough he was on Rob because he was always trying to instill a strong foundation in him so that his hard work now would take care of him later. The furniture and other items in his townhouse reflect the choices made by that type of man. Preston took the time filling his home with quality items and took care of them, and as a result, he’s had no need to replace them, and they still serve him decades later.  

Rob reveals the nature of his own character during the same monologue. Comparing his own household to Preston’s, he says they’re replacing everything every five years, and goes on to further state that everything’s flashy, but nothing’s reliable. He even shares an anecdote that he went to numerous stores just to find something suitable the last time he shopped for furniture.

Throughout Dig Down, it is revealed that Rob had a lazy work ethic when he first started working for his father, trying to win over clients with flash and pizzazz instead of knowing the business inside and out. This led him to struggle and was the first step in his path to getting entangled with the many unsavory characters of Dig Down. Like the furniture he bought, things broke down, while Preston, like his furniture, was still reliable. That Rob was still buying these flashy items also hinted that he hadn’t learned from his past mistakes.

It was a quick interlude meant to transition Rob’s arrival at Preston’s to the beginning of the fight between them, but it served to lay the foundation for the types of characters they both were.

Preston would’ve been proud.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

That’s What You Said Last Time

March 15, 2019 by admin

The first thing the man did when he staggered into his cheap hotel room was put on a pot of coffee. The packaging of the grinds all but assured him his taste buds would not be in for a treat. That was fine. It could lack in taste, as long as it made it up in caffeine. The week had been grueling, and yet his job was just beginning.

His eyes skimmed across the bed he had slept in all week. Though it felt like sleeping on a slab of marble, it was the most inviting thing he’d seen all day, and he found he had to fight to pry his eyes away from temptation.

He checked the clock on the nightstand. It read 6:32.

Almost there, he promised himself. Twenty four hours from now, it’ll be out of your hands. Then you can sleep as much as you want.

The hotel was so lacking in amenities it didn’t even offer a desk. Instead, there was a small, knee high table that had just enough room for his briefcase.

It’s okay. There’s plenty of room on the floor to lay out all the relevant papers. 

The buzz of the coffeemaker jolted him awake as well as any cup of joe could. He chuckled to himself that he no longer needed to pour himself a cup, and even felt relieved that he didn’t have to press his luck that the coffee was any good to get the high he needed.

The man quickly lamented the fact that like it or not, he was most likely going to need to finish the pot. He was almost through his week of hell, but there was still one more night getting by on two hours sleep standing between him and the finish line.

To his relief, he’d had worse.

For the next hour, he carpeted the floor with all the reports he’d been hauling everywhere in his briefcase. To the untrained eye, it was a chaotic collage, but to him, each paper had their crucial place in his masterpiece.

Projections and pie charts jumped out at him from every page so vividly he could envision them when he closed his eyes. He began to close his eyes, point blindly at the floor, and recite what information he expected to find on that page. After ten attempts, he had a perfect score.

When the rush from the first cup wore off, he made to pour himself another, and only then did he notice that two hours had passed. He berated himself as he put down his mug and made his way to the phone.

You can’t forget again!

The man picked up the phone and dialed from memory, which was an impressive feat given all the numbers dancing around in his head. As he waited for the phone to ring, he pointed at another random page and quickly gave the percentages for each slice in the pie chart. He didn’t need to check to know he was eleven for eleven.

At the first ring, it hit him that he hadn’t called in a week. There was bound to be a cool reception for him when she picked up.

The man shook it off. He had sat her down and laid it out for her. It was no mystery to her that he was putting himself through hell this week. She might be mad, but deep down, she’d understand.

But will he?

He didn’t have time to answer as the phone was picked up on mid-ring, and he heard the chipper voice announce on the other end, “Moore Residence!”

The man smiled. Just like I taught him. He braced himself, hoping the voice would still be as bright and bushy tailed when he heard who it was. 

“Hello, Rob—”

“Daddy!”

Filed Under: Tales from Dig Down

Layering a Scene

March 13, 2019 by admin

As I mentioned in last week’s blog, Dig Down had to be fast. I believed a frantic pace would really emphasize what Rob was experiencing as he was running for his life. While this was natural for the chapters where he’s being chased, I knew from the start that the chapters in Preston’s townhouse would prove to be a challenge.

There were a couple tactics I used to keep the pace flowing for these scenes, whose primary focus was exposition and character. The first, as I went over last week, was to write them in a similar style to the chase chapters, was stacking the many things going on in the scene on top of one another. The second writing tool I used was establishing setups and payoffs throughout this sequence.

In order for Dig Down to feel fast paced, I was going to have to be economical with my words. I kept the description of Preston’s townhouse brief, because the details of it weren’t what was important, both in the scenes (the focus needed to be on Rob and Preston’s relationship) and in the story as a whole (Rob running for his life). With that in mind, I took a bare bones approach to describing the layout of the townhouse; a living room, a kitchen, a study, with windows on each side. This minor description was what I used to create the setups for what happened later in the story.

The first detail I setup was the windows on all four sides. It’d already been established in chapter 1 that Rob didn’t want to be spotted by anyone, nearly jumping out of his skin when Ms. Harrington steps out of her townhouse. Rob’s initial reaction when he sees the windows is to draw the blinds because he doesn’t want to be seen by the neighbors. This is the setup. When Beverly enters the townhouse later and remarks they should get some light in here, this is the reminder. Rob’s inability to come up with a reason to keep them drawn ensures that they were going to stay open for the remainder of his time there. While it might seem that this was just returning the blinds to their original state, it was actually crucial to draw the reader’s attention to the windows being open when he first enters the townhouse.

The payoff occurs in chapter 19, when the reader sees the consequences for keeping the blinds open, as it creates another problem for Rob to deal with. In a way, I feel this is actually a double payoff because it also (hopefully) satisfies the intrigue setup at the end of chapter 2.

 I kick off another setup and payoff in chapter 3 when Rob is first remarking on Preston’s townhouse. While Rob is comparing the quality of items that Preston has in his townhouse, one of the things he mentions is a frog paperweight. This knickknack plays an important role in the story, but in the first draft, I didn’t introduce it until the end of the story. On my second draft, I established it here, to setup a bigger payoff later. In chapter 15, when Rob and Preston enter the study, I make sure to mention that Rob’s fingers dance across the paperweight. This was done solely to remind the reader that this was here. The payoff comes in chapter 19.

 One last small example to go over would be the painting in Preston’s study. Once again, this was one of the few objects that I describe in chapter 3, and that’s because of its importance to the story later on. Anyone reading Dig Down a second time might notice that the characters acknowledged its importance from the start. After drawing all the blinds, Rob is practically drawn to the painting, since what it’s hiding is his main purpose for coming to Preston. And it is only when Preston sees Rob heading towards it that he breaks his silence and starts talking to his son. The payoff comes later when you see what the painting was hiding.

Next week, I’ll be going into how I incorporated characterization into this chapter.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

My Story (Part VII)

March 8, 2019 by admin

“I was chasing down a hot tip,” Ryan replied before he was interrupted by Horace’s twentieth sneeze of the meeting.

The young reporter couldn’t suppress his smile. “Are you catching a cold?”

“YES!” Horace bellowed. “Thanks to the wild goose chase you sent me on!”

Ryan leaned back in his chair. “How exactly did I send you on a wild goose chase?”

Horace opened his mouth to reply and then closed it. He snuck a quick peek at Frank, who had remained silent leaning back in his office chair, watching the drama play about between the two of them.

“Never mind,” Horace mumbled quickly.

“Actually, I’d like to know,” Frank said, finally leaning forward. If Horace’s face could’ve paled further, he would’ve turned transparent.

“I was following a lead,” Horace replied nonchalantly, believing his answer was enough.

“What did you hope to uncover?” Frank pressed.

Horace glared at Frank with a look of betrayal. “Doesn’t matter. Turned out to be nothing.”

“No, it does matter,” Frank insisted. “Because right now, if the dock workers wanted to, they could file charges for trespassing and harassment. Did you actually accuse them of being human traffickers?”

“That sounds suspiciously like a fictional idea I jotted down in my notepad,” Ryan interjected. “One that’s been mysteriously torn out.”

Horace’s eyes burned white hot into the side of Ryan’s head. The sight would’ve been menacing had it not been interrupted by another sneezing fit.

“I remember getting it at the precise moment I got the hot lead that I chased down this night,” Ryan went on. The smile was back. “I had a hard time keeping the details of the story straight as I was being fed the tip.”

Horace turned back to Frank. “They’ll never press charges. They’d expose the fact they were playing poker on company property.”

“You’d better hope so,” Frank said gravely.

“I’m sure our legal department would rest easier knowing Horace was in fact chasing a lead,” Ryan said. “Perhaps he should offer up his notes on the story.”

That brought color to Horace’s cheeks as he began to fume. Frank signaled to fork over his notes, and the thief hung his head as he offered it to the editor.

“Quite a talent to take your notes in Ryan’s handwriting,” Frank commented.

“Sir!” Horace protested. “This is a case of pure sabotage by Ryan!”

“How could Ryan sabotage you with a story idea written in his notepad? Did you tell you this was a credible lead?”

No response.

“So what I have on my plate is potential criminal charges against my lead reporter, who was off chasing a bogus story you can’t explain how you came into possession of without admitting to theft.” Frank looked out his office window and shooed away the crowd of reporters reveling in Horace getting his comeuppance. “And a whole paper ready to cannibalize you for it.

“All of this while one of the most junior reporters of the paper may have just broke the story of the year.”

Horace was nearly hyperventilating. “What. Story?” he managed.

“The one that’s been dominating the airwaves since you’ve been gallivanting around the docks,” Frank said as he turned on a TV he kept in his office.

The screen came alive with a shot of the exterior of a hotel.

“—coming to you live from the horrific scene. Once again, if you’re just joining us, Representative Benedict Spears, known in Congress as the Battering Ram, was arrested earlier tonight, charged with counts of possession, prostitution, murder, and unlawful disposal of a body. We’re still learning all the details, but the story broke when Spears was found today in his hotel room in the midst of carving up the body of a deceased female, who was not his wife, that had checked in with him.”

Filed Under: Tales from Dig Down

Pacing

March 6, 2019 by admin

Before I had the plot of Dig Down set in stone, before I had made up all the characters, there was one thought I had in my head:

The book had to be fast.

If I was going to succeed in creating the sense that Rob was running for his life, it had to feel like obstacles were coming at him so fast he’d never get a chance to catch his breath.  Just as he was getting out of one jam, he’d find himself in another, and sometimes, he wouldn’t even get a chance to escape one dire situation before finding himself diving headfirst into the next.

In order to pull this off, that also meant I had to apply this same pace to Rob’s conversation with Preston in the townhouse. While I felt these scenes would contrast nicely with the intense chase sequences they alternated with, if they were too slow and plodding it would be a shock every time the story jumped back to the chase.

I wrote the chapters set in Preston’s townhouse to ensure the scenes kept moving towards the dramatic climax, taking care they didn’t dawdle in their conversation. Although the pace was much slower than Rob’s escape once he leaves Preston’s, the reader would get the sense the story was always driving toward something.

Let’s take a look at Chapter 3:

When he enters the apartment, Rob makes the observation about Preston not having changed a thing when he first walks through the door. Logically, it’s the first thing he’d notice, until he hears his name on the TV. Rob’s face on the television hints to the reader that whatever Rob is running from, it’s made national news. But rather than the two of them going into a conversation about it, or have Rob’s thoughts dwell on his troubles, I have him react to seeing his problems broadcast on the screen by muting the TV. Echoing the style in the chapters where he’s running for his life, I don’t keep him focused on the TV. Only when it’s muted does he realize Preston hasn’t said a word since Rob walked through his front door. This is when I go back to the layout of Preston’s apartment, having Rob make an attempt at small talk to break Preston’s icy mood. The focus shifts between Preston’s apartment and his coldness towards Rob as Rob keeps pausing in the hopes that Preston will talk to him. It’s during one of these pauses that Rob finally notices all the window blinds aren’t drawn, and that Preston’s neighbors can see him, serving as another reminder that he’s running from something.

In summary, I’ve gone from giving a brief description of the interior of Preston’s townhouse, to the revelation that what Rob has gotten involved with is major news, to the frosty relationship between Rob and Preston at the start of the story, to alternating between Preston’s furniture (a way I chose to demonstrate the characterization of Rob and Preston without it being exposition) and Rob’s attempts to repair that broken relationship, to Rob’s realization of his latest problem of being spotted.

This whole sequence occurs in the first five paragraphs. So while this is a slower scene, it follows the spirit of the pace that’s to follow when Rob leaves with what he came for. I’ll be going into more detail about the contents of this chapter, in the coming weeks.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

My Story (Part VI)

February 28, 2019 by admin

He didn’t wait for Ralph to respond as he rushed from his hiding spot. Horace was fifty yards from the warehouse, yet covered the distance in no time, leaving the cameraman in his wake.

The reporter slowed to a crawl as he reached the lone window of the warehouse, not wanting to betray his ambush. The figures had turned on the lights inside, granting him ample ability to see the nefarious acts taking place within.

Horace looked on in puzzlement. A lone figure stood off in the counter, counting money, which looked promising. But the rest were sitting at a conference table dealing playing cards. Those at the table looked as though their only care in the world was the card game.

Perhaps they’re just passing time until it’s confirmed the money is all there?

Behind him, Horace heard the thunderous footsteps of Ralph barreling to catch up. He tried to signal to him to be quiet before they no—

“What’s that noise?” one of the figures at the table barked. The rest of their heads shot up towards the door.

Shit!

Horace turned to flee. And crashed right into Ralph, who was doing his best to slow himself down.

The two collapsed on top of each other. Hands helped them back to their feet.

“What the hell are you doing here?” one of the men demanded.

Horace felt the best course of action was not to let on how terrified he was, despite how much his knees were betraying him. The hope was that they’d pick up on his confidence, which might deter them from harming him. “I can ask you the same thing!” he said as boldly as he could.

“Wait a minute,” one of them said, stepping closer to study him. “I know you!”

“Damn right you do,” Horace snarled, not holding back on any of the false bravado. “Horace Husk, with The Post!”

“No kidding,” another one of them said, sounding impressed. “My brother works there, maybe you know—”

“Never mind this six degrees of separation,” Horace cut him off. “You gentlemen have a lot explaining to do about what’s going on in there,” he said, waggling his finger at the warehouse.

The six men turned in unison to look at the warehouse, before staring at him with a dumbfounded look. They couldn’t have choreographed their actions more perfectly. 

“Our monthly poker game?” one of them finally offered.

“Monthly poker…No!” Horace yelled as he pulled the page he had stolen from Ryan’s notepad out of his pocket and waved it at all of them. “I’m talking about your human trafficking operation!”

If Horace had been wearing a look of triumph, it vanished as soon as the six men stared into the warehouse again and turned back to him with another shared look of confusion. Their ignorance looked too genuine to be fake.

“You gentlemen aren’t running a human traffic…” 

But he couldn’t finish the inquiry as another question demanded to be asked.

Where’s Ryan?

Filed Under: Tales from Dig Down

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