Alfred Bester talked about something he called a gimmick, his name for a plot device, something that initially looks unobtrusive, but later turns out to be key to the story, often functioning as a gotcha in a surprise ending. The gimmick always related to character and connected to plot, sort of a trademark in his short fiction. All of this is detailed in an essay in one of his anthologies and has stayed with me all those years.
He used interesting facts, like the years when silver dollars weren't minted to hint that the given time and date was wrong, and in one short story the protagonist, over his wife's objections, takes career advice from a stranger, who pays for their dinner. The waiter brings back the stranger's $100 bill, counterfeit because its issue date is 15 years in the future. On the banknote the protagonist sees his signature for Secretary of the Treasury.
Tim, sounds like Alfred Bester's "gimmick" holds more weight. His "gimmick" isn't a cheap ploy.
I like when clues aren't obvious like the silver dollar minting - though I think a rare few would catch it. I love the twist of the futuristic bill with the protagonist's signature.
I tried to find his original essay from one of his anthologies, because he dropped a few other pearls of wisdom. I don't have it, but remember great advice for writers from someone who had covered all the bases from fiction to travel magazines and got into sci-fi on the ground floor in the 1940s. He died around 1986, too sick to show up to collect a Nebula Award.
In the novel I’m editing, I had a dilemma. I want to focus on realistic aspects of survival, and I want to explore the characters marinading in a confined space with no ETA to survival, but but I also can’t have a Deus Ex Machina resolution to their situation.
Ok, sounds like you're on the right path -- clearly they're somewhere they can expect a rescue. I imagine a Girl Scout troop isn't going to go marching through and lead them to safety.
Also, FYI - if you click on the ... dots next to your comment you can edit it there. Just in case you hit reply before you're ready or see something after the fact that needs to be fixed ;)
My wife, who reads way more than I do, read my mystery novel and disappointed there was no twist at the end. It seems the modern mystery story, as well as films now, there HAS TO BE a twist at the end.
Michael, I hear you. Sometimes there's a bunch of books that have some OMG twist and then it feels somehow expected. It can make the ones with a clever and satisfying tie up for the big reveal some how feel quiet in comparison.
I think it all comes down to the tone and voice of the book - if it's dark and twisty, then yes, I might expect something. It if it's all in the light and full of intrigue, and mystery like a shell game, and I'm trying to solve the puzzle and suss out the clues, then I don't expect a gut-punch reveal.
Saving this quote: "If your plot twist feels like a gift from the gods, make sure you’ve invited the gods to the party from page one."
Alfred Bester talked about something he called a gimmick, his name for a plot device, something that initially looks unobtrusive, but later turns out to be key to the story, often functioning as a gotcha in a surprise ending. The gimmick always related to character and connected to plot, sort of a trademark in his short fiction. All of this is detailed in an essay in one of his anthologies and has stayed with me all those years.
He used interesting facts, like the years when silver dollars weren't minted to hint that the given time and date was wrong, and in one short story the protagonist, over his wife's objections, takes career advice from a stranger, who pays for their dinner. The waiter brings back the stranger's $100 bill, counterfeit because its issue date is 15 years in the future. On the banknote the protagonist sees his signature for Secretary of the Treasury.
Tim, sounds like Alfred Bester's "gimmick" holds more weight. His "gimmick" isn't a cheap ploy.
I like when clues aren't obvious like the silver dollar minting - though I think a rare few would catch it. I love the twist of the futuristic bill with the protagonist's signature.
I tried to find his original essay from one of his anthologies, because he dropped a few other pearls of wisdom. I don't have it, but remember great advice for writers from someone who had covered all the bases from fiction to travel magazines and got into sci-fi on the ground floor in the 1940s. He died around 1986, too sick to show up to collect a Nebula Award.
In the novel I’m editing, I had a dilemma. I want to focus on realistic aspects of survival, and I want to explore the characters marinading in a confined space with no ETA to survival, but but I also can’t have a Deus Ex Machina resolution to their situation.
To resolve it,
To resolve it I hit the button to post when I wanted to edit :)
Anyways, to resolve it, I made the characters work for their survival preparing for the upcoming rescue attempts.
Ok, sounds like you're on the right path -- clearly they're somewhere they can expect a rescue. I imagine a Girl Scout troop isn't going to go marching through and lead them to safety.
Also, FYI - if you click on the ... dots next to your comment you can edit it there. Just in case you hit reply before you're ready or see something after the fact that needs to be fixed ;)
I didn’t know I can edit comments, thanks :)
My wife, who reads way more than I do, read my mystery novel and disappointed there was no twist at the end. It seems the modern mystery story, as well as films now, there HAS TO BE a twist at the end.
Michael, I hear you. Sometimes there's a bunch of books that have some OMG twist and then it feels somehow expected. It can make the ones with a clever and satisfying tie up for the big reveal some how feel quiet in comparison.
I think it all comes down to the tone and voice of the book - if it's dark and twisty, then yes, I might expect something. It if it's all in the light and full of intrigue, and mystery like a shell game, and I'm trying to solve the puzzle and suss out the clues, then I don't expect a gut-punch reveal.