Khanh Ho is writing the first Vietnamese American Detective Fiction ever. Why? Because being the first is a power trip. Like what you read? Share, comment, subscribe.
I just wrote my ending. And man, what a good idea that was. I can’t take full credit for the idea. Montserrat Fontes gave me this advice when I invited her out to do a reading at my college.
For those of you who don’t know: Monsy Fontes is the American Book Award Winning writer of Dreams of the Centaur. She is one of the great Chicana writers. Monsy was also my high school English teacher and I remember her smacking a whip made out of a dried, braided bull penis on my desk: “When you’re writing a trilogy, write the last book first” were her actual words. “That way you know what’s got to happen.” For me, every word she says is always punctuated by a smack!
I’m not writing a trilogy but the theory behind this advice still holds. It’s best to know your ending. And dutifully, this weekend, I wrote the climactic action sequence, which takes place in the Ambassador Hotel, the pleasure palace where Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated.
Boy did I learn why this important. I’ll list my epiphanies: 1) I realized I had to set up the locale early. Otherwise going through a description of the hotel—its historic value, its splendor—would slow the action. When you’re stalking a murderous villain, it’s not a good time to describe the chandeliers. 2) In the climactic scene, my detective is going to get his ass whupped but will triumph through a common item he always carries on his person. This means that I need to describe this item early on, so it doesn’t come out of the blue…and its reemergence will feel serendipitous and inevitable.
These are the two major things I realized: silver coins, jingling in my pocket. I never had these coins before; it’s like I found them on the ground and took them to an antiquarian and found out they’re rare Susan B. Anthony’s. There are other, smaller epiphanies but I won’t bore you with an exhaustive list. If I had written this novel sequentially–from beginning to middle to end—I would not have known what to set up early. And in second stage revision, I’d have been faced with a labor-intensive task. So if you’re writing any kind of novel but, especially, a plot intensive novel, the ending is probably one of the first things to tackle. Now go write! Smack!
Khanh – You know, it does make some sense to at least know the ending to your story. And writing it – even in draft, ‘this will probably change’ form – helps to solidify and set in motion the rest of the story. I like that idea. And now you’re making me really curious about your novel. I hope it comes out soon.
Margot–thanks for expressing curiosity about my work. I’m totally going to finish it, now, with you in mind. Why? I love thinking about people who I would write to. It gives me something to shoot for–something solid, not nebulous. This is exactly why it’s so important to have an ending. My usual style of writing is to get as much down sequentially, skip around a lot and then BLAM write the ending! It’s so much easier (for me) that way! I wonder if everybody is different? How is it for you?
Thanks for sharing, Khanh – I always like learning how other writers do what they do and how different ways of thinking work for them. For me, knowing the ending (I don’t always write it out) is critical. I write murder mysteries, so unless I know whodunit, whydunit and howdunit, there’s not much of a story. So I start with the victim and then move to who would kill that person. Then (and here’s where the ending part comes in) I plan how my sleuth catches the killer. Once I know those key facts/events/points, I start working on the rest of the story. It’s different for each writer, but that works for me.
Margot–clearly you are about intricacy. Your plots must be as highly wrought as hand-crafted crystal…because what you’re suggesting about your process moves beyond simply aiming for a point in the distance; it suggests that you are threading a needle with the finest filament and forming a tracery of connexions in the process…
Well, I’ve never heard it quite described like that, Khanh, but I do like to pay attention to the little things in what I write. And that’s odd too because my novels are not long.
Well, I’m glad I gave you another way to think about your work–hopefully one that is useful! Short novels can be just as complex as long novels, too. The works of J.M. Coetzee and Clarice Lispector are fine examples of brevity. The last thing I published conventionally was a paragraph long–a short paragraph at that.
Khanh, this is Monsy. Loved your blog and what you said. I’m always amazed that my students remember what I said. I’m excited about your novel. Re: The Ambassador: It’s made with over one million bricks. The actual building of it was by Mexicans and no Mexican was allowed to register at the hotel. (Not that the builders could afford it. Mexicans built most of downtown LA). Looking forward to your novel. Will buy it happily.
Monsy–Thanks for the kind words. Just like you, I am always amazed when my students remember anything I have said…but I probably have not touched nearly as many lives as you have. You were probably one of the most life-changing teachers at University High and, even during your short visit to Grinnell College, everybody was impressed. I keep in touch with a handful of people from high school days; all are successful in their own ways; and all who came into contact with you say that you are the little voice that is implanted into their heads when they make editorial decisions!