Know the Genre Before You Start Writing Your Novel

 

Romance genreromance genre 2

You should satisfy the reader who expects something out of your story. So, you must write to genre specific and expectations. You must satisfy the reader when they finish reading your novel. You must solve the mystery by the end of the novel. You must end the novel with happy ever after or happy now.

Romance readers like to face the challenges thrown at them. They like the characters to stay together irrespective of the difficulties they come across in their journey. In every impossible circumstances, readers like characters to stay calm and together.

Mystery lovers face challenges and surprises. They like to beat the protagonist and give him a befitting reply.

Literary fiction should contain beautiful words, creative phrasing, and want insight into main character. They want to explore the character depth.

So, ultimately, every genre has its own expectation. It’s up to the author to satisfy the reader and make his work a success.

So, what step you took to satisfy the readers of your genre and make them contented?

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The Ticking Clock – a Short Story

I thought of sharing a short story which I wrote a year ago. I hope you like it.

 

The sixth day of the month almost ended without a second threatening phone call from Mugembo. I hope the intelligence department will find his whereabouts soon before he plants the next time bomb and challenge us again to trace it.

I finished my coffee, heaved a sigh and placed the cup on the table. The caffeine rejuvenated me. I longed to walk out of my high-rise office after a hectic workday. My secretary Simi would bring the case file soon, and I would leave after signing it. I had promised my wife a movie date and I didn’t want to disappoint her.

The previous month was tense for me and Inspector Prakash. If it weren’t for Prakash’s heroic act, we wouldn’t have saved the schoolchildren from the terrifying act of Mugembo. I won’t rest until the intelligence officials traced the place from where Mugembo called me. The ugly bastard gave so little time to crack the secret code and locate the bomb. The job performed by both Prakash and the bomb disposal expert Robert was commendable.

I picked up the paperweight and twirled it in my hand. My phone rang with an unknown number. I observed the last four digits – 6666. Didn’t Mugembo’s phone number last month ended with 4444? I grabbed my phone from the table and tapped on the answer key. “ACP Satish here.”

“Mugembo Kush Hua,” Mugembo said.

Damn it! I didn’t expect his call so soon. What had he planned now? “Mugembo, do you think you’ll escape this time?” I straightened in my seat. “Start counting your days. You are hitting the dead end very soon.”

“ACP Sahib, before I count my days, you better save your nation from turning into a pile of ash.”

My adrenaline rushed through my veins. Mugembo might take everything for granted if I become soft on him. “Do you think you can defeat us by such cowardly acts? Never ever think you can get away with your crimes.”

“Commissioner, it’s time for you to worry about your citizens. If not, you’ll see your nation perish in no time.”

I pounded a fist on my table and leaned forward in my chair. I needed to be patient and unearth Mugembo’s plot without taking chances. “Spill your dirty code. We will get there and see what you are up to.”

“Mugembo Kush Hua. You’ve just half an hour to save your nation after you receive my SMS. Crack the code and get there. Good luck, ACP Sahib.” The line went dead.

“Hey, listen.” Damn it! I looked at my phone once then tossed it back on the table. Should I call Prakash? Mugembo gave only thirty minutes and I needed to hurry. I took my phone back and called Prakash.

“Good evening, Sir.”

“Prakash, Mugembo has struck again.”

“Damn it!” Prakash said. “What has he planned now?”

“I need you in my office. Now.”

“Right away, Sir.”

The phone jingled with a new text message. My heart pounding in my ribcage, I read the message – ‘COBRA’. The time stamp was 6:15 PM. COBRA? The code was much shorter than the previous one.

I summoned Simi with the intercom.

A moment later both Prakash and Simi walked in. I waved them to seats in front of me. I showed my phone to Prakash. “What do you make of this?”

Prakash frowned, a deep furrow growing across his brow as he handed the phone to Simi.

“We have less than thirty minutes, Prakash,” I said. “We need to do something fast.”

“Mugembo usually targets the major Indian cities,” Prakash said. “The last time it was Bangalore. I suppose it is again a metropolitan city.”

“But what the hell is COBRA?” Simi asked.

“Did he mention anything else during your conversation?” Prakash’s eyes narrowed. “He told us to save the pupils in last month’s threat.”

I stared at the window, trying to come up with a solution. “Mugembo said our whole nation would become a pile of ash if we fail to trace the bomb.”

Prakash heaved a sigh with his brows knotted. He took out a pen and a sketch pad from the table. He scribbled something on the page then glanced up at me with a look of triumph. “I guess Mugembo had a nuclear bomb in his mind. Look at the code – COBRA. If you take out the letter ‘O’, we are left with CBRA. Can you guess it?”

I looked at my watch. Twenty minutes left. “Come on, Prakash. If you’ve cracked it tell us.”

“Sir, I suggest that we advise the security at Bombay Atomic Research Centre to search for anything suspicious,” Prakash said.

Simi straightened in her seat. “No doubt it is BARC. I got an intelligence report this morning which deciphered the phone and email messages targeting Mumbai.”

“Simi, let the BARC know,” I said. “Have them get back to us in five minutes. Also inform our Mumbai branch about it.”

Simi rose and walked towards the window with her phone in her hand.

Prakash called Robert and told him to join us immediately.

Simi ended her call and came back to her seat. “I have informed the Mumbai Police to get back to us soon.” She glanced at her wrist watch. “Sir, time is running short. How can we defuse the bomb by being here at Delhi?”

“I want to talk about it with Robert,” I said. “I’m hoping he can arrange for someone at Mumbai to go to the spot and defuse the bomb. Prakash, can we monitor everything from here?”

“I think so, Sir,” Prakash said. “If the place is confirmed, we can plan for it.”

My gaze went to the door as Robert entered. His look of concern cast a shadow over the room. He took a seat beside Prakash.

I showed him the text message. “Mugembo has struck again. We have less than fifteen minutes. We suspect the place to be BARC in Mumbai.” I turned to Simi. “Simi, call the Mumbai police again. I need to know if they have found anything there.”

Simi tapped on her phone and listened intently. Her frown worried me. She shook her head. “They haven’t gotten the response from BARC.”

I clenched my fists. We had only twelve minutes and we hadn’t located the bomb. “Robert, if the bomb is planted in BARC, can the security personnel there defuse it?”

Robert shook his head. “I don’t think they are trained for it, but if someone follows my instructions, we can achieve it.”

I ran a hand over my face. “We don’t have enough time to operate that way.”

Simi’s phone rang. Everyone shifted their gaze to her.

“Simi here.” Her face went pale as she handed the phone to me. “Sir, it is Mumbai Police officer. The bomb is planted in BARC.”

“ACP Satish speaking.”

“The BARC security has traced the time bomb using their CCTV camera,” the officer said. “It is planted in the main hall.”

“Listen,” I said. “We have less than ten minutes left. Get me the head of the BARC security over the phone.”

“Stay on the line and I’ll patch you in.”

I turned to Prakash. “They have traced the bomb through their CCTV camera.”

Prakash sat leaning on the table, his face tense. “Ask them for their IP address to the DVR. We can check the CCTV footage through our computer.”

“Is that possible?” Simi asked.

“Yes.” Robert jumped up from his seat. “I can defuse the bomb from here remotely.”

I listened to the Mumbai police introducing me to Himanshu, the BARC security head.

“Sir, the bomb is fixed to the wall in the main hall,” Himanshu said. “I am seeing it through CCTV footage. The clock on it is currently showing six minutes.”

“Where are you now?” I asked.

“I am in my room near the main entrance,” Himanshu said.

“Can you go there soon?”

“Yes, I can,” Himanshu said.

“Take a wire cutter with you,” I said. “And can we know the IP address of your DVR?”

“Stay on the line,” Himanshu said. “I’ll ask our technician.”

“Sir, they must turn off their internet firewall,” Prakash said.

After a muffled conversation, Himanshu said, “Sir, it is 164.178.45.193.”

I wrote the IP address on the notepad and turned it towards Prakash.

“Himanshu, tell your technician to turn off the internet firewall,” I said. “Robert will guide you now.” I turned on the speaker of my phone and placed it in front of Robert.

Prakash adjusted the computer monitor to enable everyone see it. He opened the internet explorer and typed in the IP address.

I stared at the monitor with my teeth gritted. Would we succeed in time?

It took forty seconds for the internet explorer to load with the live videos. My heart raced as four tiled videos appeared on the screen. The first tile showed the outside premises of the BARC. The second video was of the lobby, and the third one showed the main hall.

Prakash pointed to the third tile. “Here is the bomb.”  He zoomed in the screen.

The red timepiece on it showed 1:24. Damn it! “Himanshu, where are you?” I shouted.

“I am on my way,” Himanshu said.

I continued staring at the first tile for Himanshu to appear. A couple of seconds later, a man in a dark blue uniform and wearing earphones pulled opened the main entrance.

“Hurry up,” Robert said. “We are running out of time.”

Himanshu entered the lobby. Robert instructed him to cut the red and yellow wires as soon as he approached the bomb. Inside the lobby, there was a wide door on the left side of the help desk.

My eyes were glued on Himanshu on the screen. I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew that the time was running out but suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started counting in reverse under my breath. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…..”

Himanshu pulled the door, stepped into the main hall and ran towards the time bomb.

“Come on, hurry up,” Robert said. “Cut the damn red wire first.”

Himanshu cut the red wire. The clock stopped at three seconds. I heaved a sigh in relief. A sense of reprieve rushed through my blood.

“Cut the yellow wire too,” Robert said.

The clock went off as Himanshu cut it.

Robert turned to me. “The bomb is defused, Sir.” He looked back at the phone. “You did it, Himanshu.”

A smile crossed Simi’s face.

Prakash leaned back on his chair, exhaling.

“Your guidance was well-timed, Sir,” Himanshu said.

I didn’t want this to happen again. “Prakash, I want Mugembo, alive or dead, before he strikes again.”

The End

A Story Review – Sherlock Holmes

Hello, Friends,

I’m a fan of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and read all his stories contained in Volume-I a couple of years ago. I recently started Volume II which begins with a story ‘The Hound of Baskervilles’.

Before I start writing about the story and sharing a snippet, I would like to mention about the book itself. The copy I have is published by Bantam Dell and the cover page and the color of the paper really fascinated me. The thick book with cream color papers made me hold it near my nose and smell it, :).

The story starts with the conversation between Sherlock Holmes and Watson. One of his clients leave a walking stick at his Bakers Street residence and Sherlock Holmes asks Watson to tell about the details of the man to whom the stick belonged to.

“But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor’s stick? Since we have been so unfortunate as to miss him and have no notion of his errand, this accidental souvenir becomes of importance. Let me hear you reconstruct the man by an examination of it.”

To his question, Watson replies,

“I think,” said I, following  as far as I could the methods of my companion, “that Dr. Mortimer is a successful, elderly medical man, well-esteemed, since those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation.”

“Good!” said Holmes. “Excellent!”

“I think also that the probability is in favor of his being a country practitioner who does a great deal of his visiting on foot.”

“Why so?”

“Because this stick, though originally a very handsome one, has been so knocked abut that I can hardly imagine a town practitioner carrying it. The thick iron ferrule is worn down, so it is evident that he has done a great amount of walking with it.”

“Perfectly sound!” said Holmes.

So the story continues with their intellectual conversation until Dr. Mortimer comes back to their place.

I’m sure most of your have read the stories, and liked them. I don’t get bored of reading his adventures as many times as I want :).

 

What is Concept? And the difference between Concept and Idea.

Every story should have a concept. It’s an idea that has been evolved to the point where the story becomes possible. The concept becomes a platform, a stage upon which a story may unfold.

What is not a concept? If you have just an idea of writing a story based on a dancer, that’s not a concept. It’s just an idea.

However, if you further evolve the idea into a possible what if questions like – the dancer is physically challenged and she wants to thrive in her profession  – that becomes a concept. You set the stage for the story to evolve by bringing some more characters to help her (Guardian, Husband, Friend, Parents etc)

So the concept is much more than a simple idea. It is how the story is developed based on the initial seed or idea.

For example, in my third novel, “The Betrayed Bride”, The idea is to make the protagonist, Veena, settle in Bangalore, away from her rural place. But that’s simply an idea. But I a gave a better shape by what if questions and created a stage for the story to evolve. Why Veena wanted to leave her town? With whom she decided to stay? Who are the other characters who helped her in achieving her goals? Did she succeed in her endeavor, and what are the challenges Veena faced?

With all the above questions, the story had the concept and was developed with further what if questions.

So, when you wrote your novel what was the idea that came to your mind? And how did you turn that idea into a concept and developed the story?

 

Don’t Publish Your First Novel

First novel is for gaining experience and for self satisfaction. Don’t try to publish it and expect the readers to read it. Even though the first novel is incalculable, it may not be worthy of being published.

Don’t rush to publish your first one or two projects. They are your learning projects, and they give you enough confidence to move ahead.

It is similar to an artist who doesn’t try to sell his first painting. A composer doesn’t expect his first try to be performed by an elite member.

Your technique will improve with each effort, but you need not showcase your poorly written initial projects.

A few noted writers wrote a first novel, but many have written first novel read only by friends and family members.

A snippet from my third novel

This month, I finished writing my third full length novel, The Betrayed Bride, and prepared the final draft to send it to the publishers. I really enjoyed writing it throughout the year and received a good feedback from my critique partners.

The novel is about Veena whose engagement breaks and she decides to shift her place from her rural place to Bangalore. Her parents suggest her to stay at Bangalore with Krishna, her childhood friend. Krishna is a widower and a son.

Krishna eventually starts loving her, but Veena falls in love with her employer, Girish. It’s a triangular love story, and I resolved the climax in the final four chapters. The word count came up to 65, 500 spanning thirty chapters, after careful editing and proofreading.

I would like to share a portion of the final draft, and I hope you like the snippet.

 —————–

Veena dusted off the kitchen cabinets with a soft broom, made out of palm leaves, and she coughed from the dirt. She covered her nose with a loose end of her green sari. She would spend a few more minutes cleaning the kitchen before she arranged the utensils and bottles back in their places. The evening sun rays, entering through the ventilator, had lost their gleam.

The untidiness in the kitchen had caught Veena’s attention when she had arrived yesterday. She had made up her mind to make the place hygienic because it had not been cleaned in a long-time.

Seetamma, in her yellow cotton sari, entered and took a bottle of water from the refrigerator. The area under her eyes, just above her cheeks was swollen because she overslept.

She had been kind enough to take care of Mohan and Krishna in their adversity, and she had been doing it without any expectations. She was in her late sixties, and she needed an elderly care. Her younger daughter’s suggestion to come back to her was correct, but Krishna didn’t want to lose her because he wanted someone to look after Mohan.

“Mohan will arrive from school.” The old lady poured the water into a glass. “I’ll get him from downstairs.”

“You can stay here, I will go and get him,” Veena said.

“I suggest you finish the cleaning as you are not familiar with the place.”

Veena nodded, smiling. She wouldn’t argue because she was already busy in arranging the boxes.

Her mother had told her to take good care of Mohan and Krishna well, and she needed to keep them content. They would be hungry when they come home, and she would prepare something to eat.

She ran her eyes over the flour bottles, placed on the kitchen counter. She would prepare idlis batter and allow it to ferment before she continued her work so that Mohan and Krishna would relish the soft and tasty idlis.

The novel is written with an alternating POV with Veena and Krishna in a lead roles.