Posts Tagged ‘Log line’

All That and More

Thursday, March 1st, 2012

In casual situations, I think in terms of linked clichés. When I’m talking with my neighbors, my dentist, and my family, clichés spill from my mouth like water over a dam.

As a professional writer, I spend hours and considerable effort to compose fresh narrative, vivid descriptions, and snappy dialog. I strive to use concrete nouns and active verbs, but it’s not something that comes naturally. I admire those authors who think clearly, write quickly, and speak as elegantly as they write.

I’m just not one of them.

Recently, I wrote a rather firm, but professional email to a business group of which I’m a member. Mulling their reactions in my head, I found myself getting more than a little worked up, wondering if the organization would rue the day they had elected me to their Board of Directors. Although I would never throw in the towel, leaving the group in the lurch, to change horses in mid-stream, I toyed with the idea of finding greener pastures.

Teryl's grandparents

For me, thinking in clichés is as easy as falling off a log. That’s probably why I enjoy writing the Harmony Hills Mystery series. The characters are the same age I remember my grandparents were when I was growing up. It’s not fair to generalize, and I hardly ever do it, I wouldn’t bet the farm on it, but people of my grandparents’ generation talked in clichés. At least that’s how I remember it.

Reasonable people might disagree with me, saying my assessment is a lot of hogwash, a product of muddled thinking. They might say I’m full of baloney, barking up the wrong tree, and I don’t know what in the world I’m talking about.

But, I digress. I’m putting the cart before the horse and it’s time I get my ducks in a row to get on with it. I need to explain myself.

Ducks in a row

I had a blast writing STILL KICKIN’, the first novel in my Harmony Hills Mystery series. To have any hope of understanding why I was as happy as a pig in mud, I need to bring you up to speed on the plot of the story.

When Marvin Stemple, the richest man at the Harmony Hills Retirement Village dies in his penthouse apartment, the police rule the death accidental. Resident Kay Powers suspects murder and sets out to dig up the evidence to reopen the case.

That blurb is called a log line in the business. An elevator pitch. My ten-second spiel. It’s quick. Concise. Meant to sound professional. Supposed to sell books. Get the job done. Bring home the bacon.

But it’s nowhere near, not even in the ballpark, of the pitch I really wanted to write for the back cover of the book. What I wanted to say, my editor had been hard-pressed to print. In fact, if truth be told, she flatly refused. Not even when I begged her pretty please with sugar on top. She wouldn’t buy it, not for all the tea in China.

My publisher said we’d get hauled into court. Thrown in the slammer. For something, that in my humble opinion is no big deal. But lawyers have a tendency to make mountains out of molehills. And it wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by the big boys upstairs, in their ivory tower. Who are the powers that be? The head honchos of network television, of course.

On the back cover, would if I could, I’d write:

Still Kickin’—The Golden Girls become Charlie’s Angels to solve a murder in an old folks’ home in Omaha, Nebraska.

Did I mention the story takes place in the Heartland of America? The Nation’s Bread Basket. Right in the middle of the Bible belt. Where people, one generation removed from the farm, like to kick back and settle down, in front of a roaring fire, on a cold winter’s night, to read a tall tale, set in their own back yard. A story right up their alley. In amber waves of grain.

Happy as a pig in mud

Want to know the best part? The thing that tripped my trigger? Put me in seventh heaven? I wrote the entire book, the whole shebang, the kit and caboodle, in the first person point of view. Yours truly got to crawl into the head – the heart and soul—of my heroine, Kay Powers.

Kay is a dream come true. Everything rolled up into one neat package. Jack of all trades. Leader of the pack. Amateur sleuth. Loving sister. The best friend you could ever have. She has never met a stranger. She’s stubborn as a mule, smart as a whip, honest as the day is long. A good egg, with a heart of gold. She wouldn’t take any wooden nickels. As my father used to say, she’s been around the pump handle a few times.

Kay has celebrated seventy-one birthdays, but doesn’t look a day over sixty. That’s a lucky break since a man ten years her junior has his cap set for her. Will Kay get off the fence and jump head first into a romance with the handsome detective, John Vendetti?

One can only hope.

Ever vigilant, Kay knows in her heart of hearts that something’s not right about Marvin’s death. She smells a rat. She’s not buying what Detective Vendetti is selling. He’s got it all wrong. Marvin’s death, an accident? In a pig’s eye.

As sure as God made little green apples, someone killed Marvin Stemple. Who’s the murderer? Well, that’s the $64 question.

Now, all Kay has to do is rally the troops. Forge ahead. March up the hill with her best friends, Vita Orsi and Audrey Campbell.

Well, what I can say about those two spitfires? They weren’t born yesterday. They’re no spring chickens. In fact, Vita’s a little long in the tooth at seventy-five years old. That’s six bits, to you, son. And Audrey, she sits just shy of eighty. But she’s not one to let the parade pass her by or let grass grow under her feet. She keeps up, you know what I mean?

Nope, Vita and Audrey didn’t just fall off the cabbage truck. No-siree. They’ve been around the block. They know the score.

You can bet your bottom dollar, by hook or by crook, Kay and her friends will solve the case and save the day.

Fortunately for me, Kay frequently thinks the way I do—in clichés. Here’s her rundown of the major players in Still Kickin’:

Marvin Stemple—Sweet as honey. Dead as a doornail.

Vita Orsi—Red-hot mama. Hell on wheels.

Audrey Campbell—Going through her second childhood, but she’s right as rain, and nobody’s fool.

Detective John Vendetti—Handsome as all-get-out. Salt of the earth. Could he be Kay’s knight in shining armor?

Barbara Finnegar—Kay’s nemesis. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Too big for her britches.

Mary Dodson—Big boss of Harmony Hills. Kay can’t quite put her finger on it, but Mary’s up to something.

Marilyn—Kay’s big sis. Got the short end of the stick when Alzheimer’s cut her down in the prime of life.

Arthur Stemple—Marvin’s son. Milquetoast, hen-pecked. Or, do still waters run deep?

Donna Stemple – Marvin’s daughter-in-law. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Up to no good.

Walt Garvin—Marvin’s best friend. Not playing with a full deck. Is he the murderer’s patsy?

It’s been a barrel of laughs writing this blog. Jotting down whatever popped into my head. Thanks for the trip down memory lane.

Check out this book for more idioms

I can’t wait for you to read about Kay’s adventures. Cross my heart and hope to die, the book isn’t filled with clichés. I cleaned up my act, kept my nose to the grindstone to write a fun mystery. I did take some poetic license to sprinkle in a few endangered phrases—but only when I was camped out in Kay’s head.

Stay tuned. I’ll drop you a line when my book hits the shelves. See you later, alligator.

Later, Gator