The first things I read in a book if I already know the author are the acknowledgements and the dedication. If I don’t already know the author, I might read the blurb on the book jacket or the promo quotes on the back to see if it seems like this might be an interesting read. But nobody needs to tell me anything about Michael Connelly. I already know him, and I already know I like what he writes. What I’m most interested in when he puts out a new one is what has inspired him this time around.
The acknowledgements and dedication are where an author steps outside the story and speaks directly to the reader. In any event, here’s mine for Bear the Great, my murder mystery currently under construction. Chapters One through One-Oh-Nine can be found at dewconsulting.net, although I’m still working on chapters Ten through Ninety-six. Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day.
And if you don’t like the working title, you’re welcome to suggest alternatives in the comments section after you’ve read all the way to the end. Nothing’s etched in stone here folks. Not yet anyway.
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“Plotter or pantser?”:
“Excuse me?”
“Are you a plotter or a pantser?”
You’ll have to forgive me here. I’ve got a pretty decent vocabulary, but “pantser” was a new one on me. Truth to tell, I was picturing something in a WWII-era German tank. And again, please keep in mind: I’m a guy with mild to moderate hearing loss from too many years running a chain saw out in the woods, so it’s not always easy for me to distinguish “nts” from “nz.”
“What’s a pantser?
“You know, by the seat of your pants.”
“Ahhhh.” Clarity was dawning. It wasn’t all the way up above the horizon yet, but it was getting closer. “So a plotter is….?”
“A plotter writes knowing where they’re going. They see the end from the beginning. The plot drives the story from Point A to Point B to the Big Climax.”
“Well, I’m all for Big Climaxes…. And the pantser?”
“Flies by the seat of their pants. Let’s their characters drag them along down a long and winding road to we-know-not-where. The story-book-ending is not necessarily where they thought it was going to be at first.”
“Maybe a little of both?”
“Bzzzzt. Wrong answer. You can lean a little one way or the other. But as a writer, if you don’t know your own biases and admit them – especially to yourself – you’re never going to keep people interested all the way to the end. It’s like a cosmic law or something.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay WHAT?”
“You said I have to admit it TO MYSELF. And I have. But nobody ever said I have to tell YOU anything up front. You’ll have to read to the end to find out, just like everyone else.
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Which brings me to my dedication: “For AVW.
The best First Reader a hapless pantser could ever hope for.”
As for acknowledgements, I may be putting the cart before the horse here. You know, since the book’s not yet finished. Still, this may serve a useful function after all. For instance, everybody always thanks their editor and their agent and all the hard-working support staff at Mom & Pop Press. Me, I don’t have anything like that. But if you’re reading this, maybe you have some ideas? If so, please let me know. I’m always willing to exchange a cut of the profits for a good professional referral.
The other thing that always comes in the acknowledgements is this disclaimer: “Any factual errors in this book are solely the author’s.” Now the fact of the matter is, this is a work of fiction and not an oral history. As such, the factual errors aren’t just mine, they’re mostly intentional. You say “making things up?” I say “creativity.” Potato, po-tah-toe.
The other universal disclaimer in fiction is this: “All similarities to any persons either living or dead are purely coincidental.” Me personally, I hate legalese and I don’t believe in coincidences. Things happen for a reason, and you can quote me on that too, mister. Hell, I haven’t even bothered to change any of the names yet! Though I’m sure once I find an editor and a publisher, all of that stuff will need to happen before you can buy this on Amazon. The sacrifices we make for art, eh?
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Last but not least, if you’re reading this you either already have a cameo appearance in the story or are going to get one at some point in the near future. We all get by with a little help from our friends, right? That’s why I’d like to recognize the fine folks at Ramos Law, Bachus and Schanker, and Frank Azar The Strong Arm. I’m definitely hiring one or the other of them to make sure I don’t get sued. I mean, waddaya think I am, crazy? Think again. The fact remains that if there’s not somebody out there wanting to sue you then you’re probably not doing a very good job as a writer. For an author, legal representation is more than just a luxury. It’s an absolute necessity,
OK, I lied: The above paragraph was not the last word. But the paragraph below IS. This story flouts convention on any number of levels: The hero is a dog. The sleuth is a psychic. The killer gets away with it. There are no James Bond 007 sequences on a remote tropical island sipping Mai Tais and getting sand in one’s, uh, swimsuit. And just so you know up front, I have written myself out of the story practically from the get-go. In Chapter Three. Hey, I’m the victim here, folks! So please don’t sue me. Because I’ve already been through an awful bloody lot. But do read all the way to the end. I mean, how else will you ever find out whodunnit?
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Now, somebody go find out who owns the copy rights to the Green Acres theme song and get them on the line ASAP. We gotta dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s here – doncha know?