Yes, we hear it every day as writers: to get the reader's attention, you need a hook. We see examples of the hook every day, as well: on television, in film trailers, on the internet, and especially in advertising.

• The teaser for the upcoming Christmas special of Sherlock.
• The movie trailer to end all movie trailers.
• 5/10/15 Shocking Truths/Incredible Facts/Stories You Won't Believe About…
• And this magnificent advert, of course.

Had you going, didn't we? With the possible exception of all of those 'shocking' come-ons, you're usually hooked pretty well. Low-end advertising people are ineducable. No matter how many times you tell them that those 'hard sell' tacky web adverts and seven-page mass mailing letters don't really work, they don't change their ways. Spammers are like that, and always have been. Have you become weary of those ugly .gifs they stick on the margins of your email server? I suspect there were costermongers in 19th-century London who refused to believe that shouting 'Oranges! Fresh oranges!' in front of houses with 'Do Not Disturb, We're in Mourning' signs wouldn't move any product.

Okay, so hooks. Hooks depend on catching the audience's attention, so hooks have to start where the audience is. Meaning, if they're Brits, try the Ginger, Ginger Effect: talk about them. This also works really well on Canadian audiences, I've found. It will work far less well with Germans or US-Americans. It doesn't mean they don't like to talk about themselves – they do, everyone does – but it doesn't hook their attention as quickly. They're slow on the uptake, or like novelty, or something. You need a different kind of hook. For the US, danger or humour will do it, usually. Or sex, that works on most adults. But whatever you choose as a hook has to be within the range of their experience. For children, it has to be something they've seen, or might see. For teens, it needs to fall within their (somewhat narrow) interest range, which means current sex, drugs (including snack food), and rock'n'roll. For adults, it has to be something they've experienced, or would like to.

So far, so good. But here's the trick: once you've got them hooked, you need to reel them in. And to do that, you depart from the hook. Now you are free to take them somewhere fresh, and possibly out of their comfort zone. Remember the items we've looked at already?

• The upcoming Christmas special of Sherlock. You expected Sherlock. You got Victorian England.
• The movie trailer to end all movie trailers. You expected a movie trailer. You got a joke on movie trailers.
• 5/10/15 Shocking Truths/Incredible Facts/Stories You Won't Believe About… You always expect something enlightening. What you get is rehashed trash information, possibly untrue, and a quick move to whatever they're trying to peddle. It's called 'bait and switch', it should be illegal, and you shouldn't fall for it.
• And this magnificent advert, of course. You thought you were watching a snobby nature documentary. You weren't. They're trying to sell you mobile phones. But who cares? It was so amusing, you might just buy one.

The pieces that work, work because the hook snared you, but the line moved you elsewhere. The idiotic internet adverts and 'advertainment' don't work because, like a clever fish, you'll drop that bait as soon as you find out you're being switched. Fool me once, you think, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. You live and learn. Which is why all the 100-pound catfish out there are survivors.

Now, you want to do that, too. Your line, as a writer, is the process you take the reader through on the way from the hook to the sinker. What's the sinker, you ask? It's the take-home message you're trying to get across.

'But I'm not,' you protest. 'I'm not trying to sell anything. I don't have a take-home message. I'm trying to write a deeply serious novel that probes the depths of human experience. What do you mean by take-home message, eh?'

Oh, yeah? You don't have a take-home message? There's no sinker on your line? Then why in the world are you fishing for readers? Keep a diary. Otherwise, consider these examples.

What is the take-home message of:

• A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens?
• Atonement by Ian McEwan?
• Borstal Boy by Brendan Behan?
• Red Dragon by Thomas Harris?

'Aha,' you say. 'I've got you on that last one. There's no moral or take-home message in Red Dragon. It's one of those awful serial-killer stories. It's an unedifying gorefest. I should know: I've already seen two movies and most of a TV series on the subject. There's no message.'

Wrong. There is lots of take-home message in Red Dragon. (And if you weren't getting anything out of it, would you watch both movies? Yeah, I know you have better things to do, but many people have.) There are many morals, whether you watch the filmed versions or read the book. I recommend reading the book, though not on a dark night, unless you really have nerves of steel. Reading the book will bring take-home messages on gender and society, the value of home and family, the extent to which the human imagination is both a friend and a deadly enemy at times, and some very deep truths about the extent to which we need to understand evil in order to overcome it. And that's in a piece of detective fiction. Think what you could do with your high-minded novel…

Why is this kind of fishing necessary? Because as I've noted before, nobody is obliged to read what you write. You need to give them a reason. It's part of the unwritten contract between writer and reader. Play fair. Don't be like those internet trolls. Don't bait and switch, but use your hook and line to lead the reader into rewarding waters. And you might just find that they'll gladly take the bait.

Writing Right with Dmitri Archive

Dmitri Gheorgheni

31.08.15 Front Page

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