It’s an interesting exercise, but it can also be a confusing one. Everyone agrees that stories should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. But the theories on just how these should play out are endless and often contradictory. People write whole books on the subject, make their living teaching seminars about it, and create graphs detailing just how and when tension should rise or fall.

These differing pictures of plot are confusing enough without even mentioning three act structure or the hero’s journey or A and B plots.

The truth is that each book is different and plot often can’t be distilled down to an x and y axis. But it’s still important that we ask ourselves: How do we keep the tension going in a story? How do we hook the reader over and over so that they keep reading? How do we divvy out information? How do we reveal secrets? Which scenes do we show and which do we skip over?

Pacing and tension are some of the most challenging things to do in a book and though editors might be able to help you shore up your story structure, you’ll never get that help if an editor isn’t interested enough to read your book in the first place. So I keep some personal rules in mind.

• If I’m bored writing a scene, then people will be bored reading it. Sometimes we write scenes purely to maneuver our character into the situation we want them to be in. But this is always a mistake. That sort of scene does nothing to advance the plot. In addition, it often forces our character to behave in ways that don’t feel natural.

• The problem can be the solution. Problem: The scene is boring. Answer: Make the character bored. They will get restless and automatically get themselves into trouble. Which, ultimately, is right where you want them.

• Let your characters lead and shape your story. I tend to write plot heavy books, but even so, this is a crucial rule. If you create three-dimensional, interesting, and believable characters, then, like volatile chemicals, they will mix together in ways you never could have imagined. Trust them to move the story in unexpected directions. They will find their own way through your plot.

• And lastly, be mean to your character. The best way to make your story interesting is to make your character take risks and suffer. This can be hard because we grow to love our characters, even the villains. Not to mention that they are often aspects of ourselves. But despite this, we must push them to their breaking points. Only then can they be truly triumphant.

Graphs and theories can be infinitely helpful tools when it comes to creating novels. But the key is to listen to your story and trust that it will find its own way through. Beginning. Middle. And End.

The query.

She’s sexy and alluring and you wish you could get to know her a little better.

And unlike the synopsis, you don’t have to show your whole hand. Whether you want to think of it as a movie trailer or batting your literary eyelashes, what you need is a few killer lines that are going to leave them wanting more.

Or maybe it’s more like writing a personal ad. In it, you show the best possible version of you. Someone that sounds like a person you’d want to meet. But remember, if you are successful, there’s going to be a first date. And there’s no way you can make yourself (or your book) 5′6, with raven hair and silver eyes, if you’re not that already.

So, how do you do this? How do you balance information with allure? How do you sound exciting, but true to your book? As other writers and I puzzled this out, here are a few essentials that came up again and again.

-Play to your strengths.

If your book is funny, make us laugh. If your writing is lyrical, sweep the reader up in your language. If its got fighting lemurs and ninjas and pirates, make us want to pull out our throwing stars. I know this seems obvious, but when you sit down to the daunting task of boiling your novel down into a couple paragraphs or a 30 second pitch, it’s so easy to forget. Plus it’s hard.

-Use active, specific language. Shorter sentences and present tense can also give your words immediacy.

As we try to sum up our beloved books, we often unintentionally distance ourselves. We write “Little Red Riding Hood walked to Grandmother’s house.”

Instead of…”Little Red Riding Hood strides into the dark woods, unaware that each step takes her closer to peril.”

For a few extra (and, I concede, cheesy) words, I’ve bought emotional impact and characterization.

-Just like in the opening lines of a book, in queries it’s important to immediately show what your main character wants.

“Everyday, Rapunzel gazes out over the sea of trees, wishing she could walk beneath their emerald branches.”

-Lure your readers in and keep them wanting more.

Remember, you’re painting a picture, and you want it to convey a character in a specific pose, a mood, a setting. Keep your sentences relatively simple, free of complex punctuation. For the sake of clarity and emphasis, avoid names of secondary characters if you can help it. Likewise, avoid terms that are specific to your book and require explanation. You only have a few precious lines to draw the audience into your world, and you don’t want anything to break the spell.

As important as it is to give your readers enough to tempt them, it’s just as important to know when to stop. You can choose the climatic moment that plunges your character into the conflict of the story. Or you can go a little farther, alluding to the way the character might get out of their conundrum. But unlike a synopsis, in a query you don’t want to give away too many answers.

“After years of living far from the Castle, Sleeping Beauty is overwhelmed by boisterous crowds and the thunder of fireworks. She flees her birthday festivities, only to find something more disturbing waiting for her behind a closed door.”

If you can make your reader or listener really feel the plight of your character and make them wonder what’s behind that door, then you’ve done it. And a request for your manuscript will not be far behind.

So, let’s dust off last week’s metaphor, mostly cause it’s almost lunchtime and I’m getting hungry. If a synopsis is a recipe for a chocolate souffle, then a query is a free sample at the chocolate shop. Tiny, delicious, and there to convince you to buy the whole box. Omnomnom!

The Westside Schmooze topic this month is all about beginnings and hooks. To be exact:

“Are You Hooked Yet?
How can you use your first pages, first lines, and queries to hook readers and editors? Join us as we try to define the seemingly indefinable something that glues readers to the page. Learn from other schmoozer’s openings and share your own.”

Opening hooks are very tricky. You gotta show a little leg, but not look like a tease. It all has to look accidental, discrete. Flutter your eyelashes, but don’t wink. There’s a reason that I used the phrase ‘indefinable something.’ How do you grab the readers attention without showing off or misleading them? How do you make your beginning exciting without giving too much away? How do you make the reader ask, “Why?” and keep on reading to find out the answer.

Yeah. How? I don’t know. But I know people do it. So, even though I know you’d love to hear me wax poetic about something I don’t really have the answer to, it might be a bit more insightful to actually look at some beginnings instead.

“She scowled at her glass of orange juice.” What do we know from that one sentence? Our character’s female. She’s upset. She’s probably having breakfast. It gives us mood and a setting. It’s active. As a reader, I’m not wowed, but I’m willing to sit down at the breakfast table with her and find out why she’s scowling. (The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley.)

“When Hayley arrived at the big house in Ireland, bewildered and in disgrace, rain was falling and it was nearly dark.” This sentence paints a distinct picture. I imagine Haley standing in an immense, cold, dark stone entryway dripping water from her clothes and looking scared. I may not be right about those things, but I’m already empathizing with the character and feeling a little chilly. In one sentence, we are given who, what, when, and where. And it leaves us asking Why? Which is the most important question you want your readers to be asking. ‘Why’ is what moves the reader forward. The tone is also more passive than the ‘orange juice’ beginning. Hayley seems to be acted upon, by the house, the rain, her disgrace, instead of acting herself. (The Game by Diana Wynne Jones.)

“It wasn’t much, really, the whole Jessica Feeney thing.” This opening sentence tells us there’s been an incident, maybe a something unpleasant. But more importantly, it immediately alerts the reader that the narrator is biased, that he or she isn’t telling us the whole story. This is vital information for the reader. Now we can take the narrator’s words with a grain of salt and draw our own conclusions. Like any good opening, this makes you ask why. Not about the ‘Jessica Feeney thing’, but why is the narrator lying about it. (Firegirl by Tony Abbott.)

As you can see, there isn’t just one approach to hooking the reader. People who do it well are able, in that one sentence, to set the tone for their whole story. They’re able to ground you in the landscape and character, so you get a sense of the trip you’re about to take. And, above all, they make you want to know why.

Happy fishing.

“All children, except one, grow up.”