Ghost of Raymond Chandler here.
I've appeared in one of Roland's books
HOW WOULD I FIT INTO THIS
#MeToo WORLD?
Why should I want to?
Why should anyone expect a writer from the 1940's to do so?
My world-weary detective, Philip Marlowe, lived in a male-dominated world of corrupt politicians,
insulated by their wealth businessmen, and burned-out cops.
Along with women, who through necessity or from the sheer pleasure of dominating rather than being dominated,
learned to get what they wanted through the only coin appreciated by the world:
their beauty
My modern critics seem to forget my girl Friday, Anne Riordan, in FAREWELL, MY LOVELY.
Prejudices are so much easier to carry when you ditch those awkward facts which question the veracity of them.
HOW TO WRITE LIKE ME?
The Truth? Don't.
BE YOU,
THE BEST VERSION OF YOU.
(Midnight is not fond of my pipe smoke)
But if you must, here are a few thoughts
FIRST -
I’m an intellectual snob who happens to have a fondness for
the American vernacular, largely because I grew up on Latin and Greek.
I had to
learn American just like a foreign language. …
If I hadn’t grown up with Latin
and Greek,
I doubt if I would know so well where to draw the very subtle line
between
what I call the vernacular style and what I should call an illiterate
or faux naif style.”
My poetic, high-brow literary phrases are interlaced with
low-brow slang, crime jargon, and Depression-era wisecracks
to create a text in
which sophisticated cultural references appear
like bright flowers rising
above broken bottles and cigarette butts in a dark alley.
EXTREME EYE FOR DETAIL
Readers
did not want non-stop action.
They wanted to feel something.
The things they
really cared about, and that I cared about, were the creation of emotion
through dialogue and description.
It was through detailed description of the clothing, bodies,
mannerisms, and voices of my characters as in:
I started up the steep steps. It
was a nice walk if you liked grunting.
There were two hundred and eighty steps
up to Cabrillo Street.
They were drifted over with windblown sand and the
handrail was as cold and wet as a toad’s belly.
When I reached the top the
sparkle had gone from the water and a seagull with a broken trailing leg was
twisting against the off-sea breeze.
WHAT DO I MEAN?
Write
a basic text, then keep injecting more and more descriptive language
until your
reader can see, feel, smell, and taste everything your protagonist is
experiencing.
STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE PLOT
Does Life have one coherent Plot?
Not that I have seen on either side of the grave.
It seems to me that the real mystery is not who killed Sir
John in his study,
but what the situation really was, what the people were
after, what sort of people they were.
Once you have illuminated those facets, the whole gem of the mystery is revealed ...
as is the murderer.
A
good plot is one which makes good scenes.
The ideal mystery is one you would
read even if the end was missing.
HAVE SOMETHING WORTHWHILE TO SAY
A good mystery is an allegory of what makes life worth living
and how easy it is for it all to go astray.
I talked about what I saw in my L.A. -
the corruption, the crime, the hubris of the elite and their relationship to the human condition -
while telling a riveting, absorbing tale.
WHAT DO YOU SEE IN YOUR WORLD?
How could you relate your impressions of it in a ripping good yarn?
SPEAKING OF GOOD YARNS
My friend, Roland Yeomans,
has written another good one.
TRY IT OUT.
THE 1ST 3 CHAPTERS ARE FREE
Posts
