Thursday, October 4: Femme Fatale
SAME BAT TIME, SAME BAT CHANNEL
by Deborah Elliott-Upton
An online writer’s group I belong to is in the midst of a discussion about blogs. The main question is whether they are or are not important to a writer and if readers care enough to return to read day after day, week after week.
So far, the report is mixed. Some argue they don’t have time to either write or read a blog. Others say they keep up with several and the networking potential is well worth the effort. There is an article in September 2007 issue of The Writer by author Leslie Talbot who credits her acquiring an agent and a book contract due to her blog. Put an extra two points in the “Pro” column.
The first blog I read was more like a Bridget Jones diary — I forget whose blog it was — but I was captivated by the voyeur-like tendencies it brought out in me. I returned daily for about a week before I discovered the archives. The archives were daily entries that went back more than a year. This began the downward spiral where I had to admit my addiction. Before I knew it, my numbed rear end had conformed to my desk chair. My stomach rumbled reminding me I still had dinner to prepare and now it was going to be late. Very late. Taking a glance at the clock, I was appalled that I had spent so much time on something that wasted much of my afternoon.
Or did it?
When I looked closer, I could see the threads that dangled from one post to the next kept me coming back for more. This was great training for a writer: the cliffhanger still works. We see it work every day on television. My husband complains if we see the words To be continued right before the last set of commercials. Yet, we don’t move. We wait. After what seems like an eternity of sales pitches, next week’s previews are waved like a carrot before a donkey and once again we are on the edge of our seats in anticipation for the so-called conclusion to the story. It never really ends (unless the series is canceled and we are left up that famous creek without the proverbial paddle.)
This may be why Reality TV is still around for Hollywood to kick. These programs require little money to produce, minimum writers (someone has to come up with the challenges, etc.) and no SAG carrying card members (unless we count hosts). Much to the amazement of practically everyone, audiences are keeping them going strong. To prove they aren’t going anywhere, the Emmys awarded Reality TV its own category.
Why? We’re a society of Peeping Toms who are titillated by seeing supposedly uncut lives of real people. (Note: editors are having no problems scoring jobs with Reality TV.)
But, back to my point. Serial writers (and editing teams) are geniuses. My husband and I count ourselves moderately smart adults and yet we are reeled in week after week, program after program to “see what happens next.” I want to know more about the private lives of the characters of “The Shield”, “The Closer”, and “Monk” as much as their solutions to the crimes. Currently, my favorite new show is “Journeyman.” This is what a television series is all about, leading us from one small hint of what’s really happening with all that time traveling.
It’s back to the illusion — the slight of hand — the magic if you will of what we might see if only we stick around for the next part to amaze us even more.
Sure, the series detective solves the mystery, but aren’t we eager to see how he does it again and again? We want to know if Janet Evanovitch’s Stephanie Plum is ever going to decide between Joe Morelli or Ranger. We want to know how many colors of the rainbow John D. McDonald’s Travis McGee will find. We want to know if any of the Black Widowers will ever best Isaac Asimov’s Henry the butler or if Moriarty will win over Sherlock.
Short story series characters, like Melodie Johnson Howe’s Diana Poole and James Lincoln Warren’s Alan Treviscoe, keep me coming back for more. They’ve hooked me on the characters and I have to know what’s next and what’s more: I want to know more insider details about these character’s lives outside detecting.
When the writing is good, we become addicted. We want more. (Think J.K. Rowling.)
I’m hoping that’s what happens with Criminal Brief and our readers keep coming back to learn a little bit more about what makes us tick, what we’re writing about and how we think. Personally, I’m curious to how other writers decide to put words together and form their own characters and plot lines, too. I’m curious what the comments will be from both writers and readers. I’m curious to see what happens next.
That means I’ll be back for more at the same bat time, same bat channel.
My husband and I were just talking about this very thing. People seem to feel a need to live through other people’s lives with all the reality tv. I admit, I’ve been hooked before… :]]
Peeping Toms are, of course, criminals, not to mention completely creepy. Although I would hope our society is actually better than that, I must agree that there is a lot of psychopathy imbedded and blithely accepted in American culture. I do not watch so-called “reality” TV at all except for documentaries like “Cops” and forensics shows, although I confess than occasionally I have sat through a few consecutive episodes of “Project Runway” and “Top Chef” on Bravo, more out of curiosity for the hideously ugly clothing and artistically unpalatable food than for any interest in the self-centered and puerile contestants — but also for Heidi Klum and Padma Lakshmi, upon whom one may rest one’s boyish eyes without any pain whatsoever.
As far as Treviscoe is concerned, as he might say himself, “La, madam, you do me too much honour.”
I don’t do reality tv, not many blogs, but I do so love to watch people either from a distance, or even during conversation one-on-one or interacting in a group. I take in action and reactions. I always thought there might be a story there. After your article, I find I am a peeping Tom! My escape is reading almost anything I can get my hands on and I’ve been known to baptize many a book. Yeah, tub reader. Wrinkles are a part of life, right? Enjoyed your article, as usual.
WAIT! Is Dancing with the Stars a reality show? I try to watch that and play-like I am that good, or could be!
Aren’t the cliffhangers that ended each episode of “Perils of Peaches” in the infant days of film the source of the concept of ‘cliffhanger?’ (Does anyone know more about this? Can’t remember. Too young, ha ha.) Seems to me sometimes she really fell off that cliff, and didn’t land until the next week.
Regardless, the basic principles of suspense will work no matter in what service they’re enlisted.
I think it was “Perils of Pauline,” and I’m not sure which serial it was (that one or another) that had someone literally fall off the cliff, but the next week’s began with, “After recovering from the fall …”
As to Reality TV, I watch “Survivor” and “The Amazing Race” as much for character studies as anything else. (Same circumstances for everyone, but oh how they differ in their reactions!) As for “Cops,” I love that show, but what I feel I’ve learned is this: If you’ve done something you shouldn’t have, it’s best to not take off any of your clothes.
Omigosh, I forgot what I wanted to say about blogging.
I can’t remember where I read this, but publishers have been number crunching. They’re discovering that the benefit (increased sales) from author tours does not justify the expense–and that blogging is showing signs of being much more cost effective and PR effective a way to sell books.
You know, no offense to publishers for their bookkeeping, but the wear and tear on authors doing tours is monstrous, plus the time spent. Seems like they should asign a ‘cost’ number to that, too.
I think early serials like THE PERILS OF PAULINE were actually self-contained episodes and that the cliffhanger endings in serials came later. Certainly they existed by the ’20s. As for TV, my wife and I watch no commercial network television (save occasional sports) and have never seen a reality show. The fictional series described sound like soap opera to me, and I don’t think the creep of a soap opera sensibility into episodic TV is a salutary trend. One trouble with long-running soap operas has been that if you look closely at the story line over a period of years, it either makes no sense or involves visiting an egregious amount of trauma on continuing characters who keep coming back for more. This same problem infects many mystery novel series, which apart from unconscionable amounts of padding keep finding new secrets and inflicting new horrors in the lives of their series characters, the ultimate effect being difficulty in taking it all seriously. The TV detective series I watched when growing up and the series detective novels I read had self-contained episodes with the worst evils visited on a new group of characters in each one. That still seems to be the way it should be done.
had self-contained episodes with the worst evils visited on a new group of characters in each one. That still seems to be the way it should be done.
Mostly, I agree, but I love the way we get to know each of the lead characters a little more while the mystery gets solved. I remember the ending from “Judd for the Defense” (or something like that starring Carl Betz) where at one episode’s end, he lost the case (unlike Perry Mason who always won) and the prosecutor said, “Everyone loses some time.” Judd answered, “Yeah, but when you lose, no one dies.” That line stayed with me all these years. I count that as great writing and it showed a lot of Judd’s character, too.
The OED traces the word “cliff-hanger” (N.B., hyphen) to 1937, when it was noted in the journal American Speech and used to describe a “type of serial melodrama”.
Alongside the trend noted by Jon is another that also supports my theory of American cultural psychopathy, viz., that it seems not enough for a hero simply to have flaws any more — he apparently must also be severely psychically damaged to hold the audience’s interest. I guess nobody will identify with him otherwise. (Examples to numerous to mention to justify wasting space in listing same.) This goes way beyond “anti-hero”.
Series offer us a chance to be an intimate in someone else’s world. I’m a grunge-rock white boy from suburban Wichita, KS. In Nora DeLoach’s fine “Mama” mysteries, I get to see smaltown South Carolina from the POV of her female African-American sleuth(s). Lord, I can taste the food! As for the ‘net, I’m hooked on “You Tube.” (Talk about voyuristic!)Check out the funny “Dylan’s Couch” when you have a moment or two!
I like JLW’s phrase, ‘cultural psychopathy.’ I’d like to know more about that.
I also noticed how freakishly damaged series ‘heroes’ are getting. And I’m tired of alcoholics. Why so many? C’mon, if the hero has to be damaged, couldn’t somebody think of a problem other than booze? I happen to enjoy a decent vodka. 😉
Good column. And thanks for the mention. I think on TV and in books neurosis is taking the place of characterization. It must be easier to write. Though I do like Monk. And a good glass of red wine.