Road to Echoes: 4 Lessons I Learned Writing Maxwell Wallace

I learned a lot about myself writing Maxwell Wallace.  I’ve mentioned before that my ability to write female characters has been difficult and why that is (here), but Max is the first female character I’ve written fully formed without having to do much of anything. That was new for me, and I think a testament to the power of who she is as a character. So real. So alive. 

When the Echo Answers is a companion novel to In the Echo of this Ghost Town

When the Echo Answers is a companion novel to In the Echo of this Ghost Town

In honor of her, here are 4 things I learned from Max while writing this book:

Speak your mind

I grew up with the “be a good girl” lessons rooted in white, patriarchal, Christian home.  I’m not disparaging my experience. I had a wonderful childhood with amazing parents and family, but this “good girl” expectation didn’t serve me when I walked out into the world without the safety net of my loving family. My naivety opened doors to major mishaps. If I’d been taught that my voice mattered equally, I wonder how things might have been different.

Cal, Maxwell’s dad, has taught her that her voice matters. That her voice is equal to everyone else and she doesn’t have to be “the good girl” but instead just a smart one. Maybe, on some level, this is the kind of girl I’d wished I’d been. Maybe Max can empower a young woman to find her voice, know her worth, and speak up (even when the expectations are to be a “good girl”). What I would tell that girl: You are still a good girl even when you speak up. SPEAK UP!

Don’t Apologize

Asking forgiveness is a good thing. That’s not what I mean when I say “don’t apologize.” Instead, this is referencing those apologies for existing, for having an opinion, for being different, or using your voice to care for yourself.  It goes back to speaking up, but not feeling like your voice matters so you need to somehow disparage it by offering the “I’m sorry…”

Max doesn’t apologize unless she should. Goodness.  Cal has taught her that she matters. And as she says in the book, “My father has shown me that everyday.”  This!

Be Rude

One of my favorite podcasters—Crime Junkies—say this all the time. “It’s okay to be rude. Be rude. Stay alive.” Max is “rude” but maybe it isn’t so much as rude as assertive, confident, and self-assured.  She knows her worth (even if she struggles sometimes, because don’t we all), but the lessons from her father lead her to the path of trusting herself.  She says, “One of dad’s lessons: trust your instincts.”

I’ve gotten better at this, especially when it comes to my art. There’s this really great book I HIGHLY RECOMMEND to all creatives and especially women, and for women in general. Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, PhD. It’s a dense read, but ultimately, the idea is that as women we have shut down our intuition (due to all sorts of cultural and societal factors), but we need to reconnect to it. It is in our innate knowledge that we find the truth of our identity, our power, ourselves. It’s beautiful.

Don’t Hesitate. Just sit down

In the scene at the beginning when she sits down with Griffin outside the convenience store, Max says, “I leave the confines of the store and approach moody boy like he’s a wild animal in the zoo. Okay, too tentative. I actually just sit down. I don’t do too much with hesitancy and never have. Hesitancy hasn’t gotten me much, and besides, there isn’t time for it. Lessons from my father haven’t been about hanging back or blending into the background.” 

 I love this. 

This lesson has so many applications. Whether it’s putting myself out there as an author with local bookstores, submitting that query to an agent, offering insight on my latest blog, or teaching a webinar, I can’t be hesitant. Sure, there’s a time to ponder and reflect to find the best plan of action, but then it’s time to commit. To step forward. To put myself on the line. 

Max does this.  I love it. I love her.

I hope you do too.

The Road to Echoes: Loud Characters

Sometimes there are characters that pop off the page. I call these “loud” characters which perhaps mischaracterizes them. I’m referencing those characters that connect to the audience in a way that in many respects is intangible. But we know people like this, right? People who feel larger than life. Those humans that somehow speak to our hearts without saying a word, or those souls who seem to connect with us in a way that is powerful beyond words. That’s the kind of character I’m referencing.

DA9627AD-541D-4801-97F2-7FF69F2495C6.png

Tanner in The Stories Stars Tell was like this for me. I had assumed Stars would be Emma’s story (and half of it is), but then Tanner jumped off the page whenever Emma interacted with him, and I wasn’t able to keep him from telling his version of events (and is the reason The Stories Stars Tell became a dual perspective story). It’s also why he’s an important part in Griffin’s story. Tanner is just… is it weird to say that when I think of Tanner my heart does a little dance in my chest? Yeah. Probably. But it’s the truth.

Maxwell in The Echo of this Ghost Town did the same thing. She’s freaking amazing!! Every time I think about her, I grin. She’s strong and opinionated. She’s gutsy but vulnerable. She doesn’t have it all together, but she’s trying to figure it all out. Plus she’s got Cal (who is another of those amazing characters). When she showed up in Griffin’s story (completely unplanned and randomly stopped to talk to Griffin), I did a double-take (just like Griffin). Here’s that scene that took me by surprise:

“Hey.”

I look up at the sound of a voice, grateful to be jerked from the train of my thoughts.

The girl. She’s standing on the other side of the table in her dark t-shirt and cutoff shorts, her back to the gas pumps and road. The light from the store illuminates her, and I think she’s cute, but obviously not all there if she’s talking to a stranger.

“Yeah?”

She sits down with a Slurpee, and I look at it longingly but also wish I had some vodka to spike it with. I conjure Danny’s words from the night before. I’d told him I’m always drunk. What had he said back? “Yeah. Maybe that’s the fucking problem. It’s time to grow up, Griff.” What if I do have a problem? Then I’m annoyed by the stupid thought—of course, I don’t. What the fuck? Can’t this weird girl tell I’m busy sulking?

My face must screw up because she says, “I’m not carrying any diseases.”

I take a sip of my water, not sure what to do about this stranger who’s sat with me at a table outside of Custer’s. I glance to check if someone is playing a joke on me, but all my friends have abandoned me. So yeah, there’s that. I look at her. She’s got a round face, but it’s smooth and pleasant looking. Brownish hair, I think, because it’s pulled back in a bun or something off her face. Black eyeliner. Black T-shirt with the words Def Leppard inside a Union Jack.

She pinches the straw and moves it around the slushy. It squeaks. “Decide I’m not a serial killer?” She smirks, and my eyes are drawn to her blunt black nails at the end of her long fingers holding the red straw.

“Jury’s out.” I look away and take a sip of my water, annoyed but kind of curious.

“Why’s that?”

I shrug. “What if I’m the serial killer?” I can’t look at her, though I’m not sure why. It isn’t like I’m nervous, even if she’s a little unnerving. Why have I said that? The idea of being compared to a killer takes me backward. Griff Nichols, son of a murderer, when I’d been alone, but I’d shed that persona with my crew. I shove the reminder aside.

“It’s a distinct possibility.”

When Maxwell arrived on the page of Griffin’s story with her powerful character voice, I anticipated  that I would write another dual perspective tale.  So, as is part of my methodology,  I took the above scene and wrote it from her perspective:

Ignoring all the lessons my dad has given me that translate to talking to strangers outside of convenience stores in the middle of the night, I leave the confines of the store and approach moody boy like he’s a wild animal in the zoo. Okay, too tentative. I actually just sit down. I don’t do much with hesitancy and never have. Hesitancy hasn’t gotten me much, and besides, there isn’t time for it. Life lessons from my father haven’t been about hanging back or blending into the background. His lessons are, “go after what you want.”

Do I want this boy? Hell no, but I wouldn’t mind helping him smile. Maybe if I pay it forward, I’ll receive it in the future, you know? Like Cassie in fifth grade, who approached my lunch table where I sat alone. She sat down with me.

“Hey,” she’d said and smiled.

I’d smiled back, and it was like kismet.

I channel that moment when I sit down across from wild-animal guy. “Hey.”

He looks at me like I have two heads, his upper lip curling, and his eyebrows scrunching together. He has really nice eyes, a mix up of colors: green, gray, gold, brown. “Yeah?” Even as unattractive as that sneer is, he’s actually cute.

“I’m not carrying any diseases,” I say and draw an incredibly sweet pull of Slurpee through my straw. Strawberry, my favorite, though in a pinch I’ll drink cherry. I hate any other flavor. This delicious goodness is my secret vice. Since I’m always harping my dad about his soda habit, I can’t let him know I’m being a hypocrite with this diabetes slushie.

The guy looks around like someone might be pranking him, which makes me smile around the straw. Then he looks down at his water bottle and swirls it around a little, as if he isn’t sure what’s happening, and the water is the one place where reality exists.

I’m wondering why I haven’t done this before. His reaction is super entertaining. Then again, I don’t know him, and he could be a serial killer in training or something.

I move the straw around in the Slurpee cup so that I can sip up more of the magical unicorn goodness. It squeaks loudly, and I look at the guy. He’s just watching my movements and maybe assessing if I’m safe, which makes me say, “Decide I’m not a serial killer?”

He lifts the water bottle to his mouth, and is it terrible that I think he has a very attractive mouth? God. Upper lip has this beautiful bow shape, and the bottom is full. I imagine he’s probably a good kisser and realize I’m being creepy.

“Jury’s out,” he says.

I like his voice. Full, kind of melodious, like a ballad with one of those amazing kitschy pop riffs, but deep. Not baritone or bass deep. More like a low tenor. I wonder if he sings.

“Why’s that?” I ask.

He shrugs his sharp shoulders under his dark t-shirt. “What if I’m the serial killer?”

“It’s a distinct possibility.” I smirk at my cup.

4EA1C647-2627-444F-87F3-F47BEBE4C3C4_1_201_a.jpeg

Max’s voice on the page was so flamboyant and powerful that it was a joy to write scenes for her, but when the narrative of In the Echo of this Ghost Town swelled to 190,000 words, I knew I had to cut, and the easiest answer was to create Max’s own story. That is how When the Echo Answers, as a companion came to be. While there are scenes common to both stories, the narrative is uniquely Max’s because Max was a unique character with her own story to tell.

The Road to Echoes: Putting the Story Together

I don’t know about other authors, but I don’t walk into a draft of a story knowing how the narrative is going to go. I start with skeleton pieces: a random scene, a character, an image I need to explore and understand. Then, as I continue writing, the narrative develops, sort of exploding outward. Another metaphor: It’s like a developing polaroid. I know there’s a story and I’ve snapped a picture, but it’s taking time (and processing) to develop.

MPP Books 2.png

When I started drafting In the Echo of this Ghost Town, it started with the fight scene between Tanner and Griffin. This scene is in The Stories Stars Tell, but I rewrote it from Griffin’s perspective. When I’d finished it, I knew I had the beginning of Griffin’s story and a really good question that needed answering: What happens when someone reaches rock bottom?

This pushed me to continue writing. The deeper I got into telling Griffin’s story, however, the more I struggled with him. I knew that structurally, if I were to pick up Griffin’s story as a reader, wading through the darkness with him without any light would be terrible! To combat that, I added Maxwell’s voice. I thought the story would follow a similar pattern to The Stories Stars Tell, dual, alternating perspectives. Pretty early on, however, I knew this wasn’t going to work, Especially when Griffin’s story swelled to 190,000 words. 

This meant (besides cutting), I needed to determine how this story was going to fit together.

My other books have varied structures. Swimming Sideways is told chronologically. The Ugly Truth is told with a present timeline of “now” that branches into flashbacks of “before.” The Bones of Who We Are is told backward with a forward dream state thread. The Stories Stars Tell is told mostly chronologically with a few flashbacks peppered in to make sure the relationship and characterization were established. These choices weren’t made beforehand but were sort of born from the organic development of the story, hence the polaroid.

Griffin’s story and Max’s companion story When the Echo Answers weren’t any different. Both are chronological. For Griffin’s journey, however, I broke it up by months. It felt like a natural fit for his story to demonstrate the way someone might be able to change over time. 

How do I know this is “right”? I don’t. Not really. To claim it's instinctual isn’t helpful for you, so here’s another tip that might be more concrete and useful. I’ve studied narrative structure for years, so when considering how to tell the story, it’s important for me to use the three act structure and Vogler’s Hero’s Journey work based on the work by Joseph Campbell (some might suggest Save the Cat! which is a great resource as well).  For example, many years ago when I was writing The Ugly Truth, I had the story set up chronologically. I couldn’t get the narrative structure to work even though I knew I had the pieces I needed. Using the Hero’s Journey, I plugged in the pieces and realized that the story was out of order, hence the shift to employing the flashbacks interspersed throughout. Being willing to try something different with the structure worked and solidified for me the practice of being willing to let go of how I think it should be for how it is. 




Next Week: Character’s that won’t shut up.




The Road to Echoes: Writing Difficult Characters

I had a conversation with my friend Misty early in the drafting stage for In the Echo of this Ghost Town during one of our writing sessions. Note: she’s been a huge advocate for The Stories Stars Tell from the beginning and even featured me in a lovely conversation for her podcast Rainy Day Collective where we discussed purity culture (here’s a link if you’d like to listen to it). 

During that writing session she asked what I was working on, and when I revealed I was writing a book about Griffin, she said “What the hell for?!?!” I laughed at the time because I understood her incredulity. Seriously. Griffin was horrible in The Stories Stars Tell. Toxic as toxic can be. Now, I feel warmth in my bones because she’s read In the Echo of this Ghost Town and asked me “I don’t know how you can get me to go from hating a character to loving him. How do you do that?”

I’m not sure. I remember telling her during that same writing session that I was really struggling to develop Griffin because he was so freaking unlikeable. Look, I know this isn’t selling you on his story, but please stick with me. I think you’ll fall in love with Griffin as much as I have. And ultimately, this is a post about how sometimes we have to look closer at those difficult characters. 


While I don’t have a magic bullet, here are five things I did to excavate Griffin as a difficult character.

  1. First, I had to let go of my bias. I hated him. In The Stories Stars Tell he was such a jerk and so disrespectful to… well, everyone. There’s a scene in that book that solidified my dislike of Griffin. Tanner wrote a poem about Emma in his notebook, and Griffin makes fun of him for it. Not only did it break my heart for Tanner, but it sealed my dislike and informed every other scene moving forward with Griffin.

  2. I had to use what already existed in The Stories Stars Tell to begin to understand Griffin’s perspective. While these clues were superficial at best, they offered some perspective about Griffin’s world view. For example, Tanner mentions Griffin’s dad being in prison. He also indicates that his older brother has left. There’s a scene when Tanner arrives at Griffin’s house at noon, and Griffin is just getting out of bed. Then there are all of the moments Griffin opens his mouth and tears things apart.

  3. I started with a pivotal moment for both Tanner and Griffin—the fight. It was already drafted from Tanner's perspective, so I changed it to Griffin’s to see what would happen. My understanding of him began to shift. It made me wonder about hitting rock bottom and what would happen to someone who’s lost everything?

  4. Next I had to dig a little deeper. I started with asking questions about his family. Who were his mom and dad and brother? What was their family dynamic, and if the father was in prison, why was he there? How did that impact the family? Griffin? And what about his brother? What would it feel like to think he felt like he’d been abandoned by both his dad and his brother? How might that inform his behavior? His motives? His wants? And if his mom was never around because she was trying to hold the family together financially, how might that impact his teenage perspective? What did Tanner mean to Griffin, and how might the fight have impacted him? This exploration made me begin to see Griffin in a new light, one that made me empathize with—though not excuse—his choices.

  5. Next, because I saw a theme emerging in the character development, I began doing research about male culture, toxic masculinity, and abandonment. I’ll write more about my research in a future post, but for now, I knew I needed to ground myself in being respectful about these topics.

Developing characters is already challenging, but I find it always comes down to the question: why?  The more you’re willing to ask that question of your characters, the deeper they will take you into their motives, the roots of their own why. For the author, this only helps writing their stories. Difficult characters are no different, as long as we’re willing to ask those questions. If you’re familiar with The Cantos Chronicles, you know that I’m not a stranger to writing the difficult, morally gray character. Seth from The Ugly Truth was a villain in Swimming Sideways and The Bones of Who We Are.  So, I guess I find difficult characters interesting and challenging.

Next time: Writing Secondary Characters


The Road of Echoes: What Inspired Griffin's Story?

I can imagine your incredulity when learning that the hero of my new book was Griffin Nichols, especially if you’ve read The Stories Stars Tell. He is, after all, a villain. Except there was this moment, a single slice of something that gave me pause.

Here. Let me show you. This is a scene from The Stories Stars Tell from Tanner’s point of view. Keep an eye on Griffin (fair warning - lots of strong language):

An hour later, Griff and I are still killing shit with video game remotes from his couch. This feels normal with the stupid, meaningless banter and helps me forget what happened the night before graduation with him, with my mom, with my dad for a little while. The moment I realize it, however, I recognize the truth. Griff makes me forget, helps me run away. This feeling is temporary, because the moment I get back into my truck and drive home, it will all come rushing back. 

“Dude! What the fuck. I said to go right!” His phone chimes. He looks at it, sets it down, and resumes playing. “Danny texted there’s a party at the Quarry Friday night. Bonfire. Wanna go?”

I do. I don’t. I think about Emma and wonder if she’d want to go. “Maybe.”

“Fuck, Tanner. You didn’t even show up at Marcus’s. What the fuck is up with you? You’re acting like a bitch.”

“Stop, Griff.” I press the controller and take out a sniper.

Griff’s character moves in front of mine on the screen and uses a wall to shield him from enemy fire. My character is behind his. The character steps out and gets shot. 

Then he says, “I’m not the one who’s trailing after smarty-pants like she’s a bitch in heat. I’d never drop my boys for a chick.”

I slam the control onto the table and stand. “Shut the fuck up.” My fists are clenched.

Griff glances at my hands and leans back on the couch. “Why are you being so effin’ sensitive?”

I turn and walk to the door, afraid if I don’t put more distance between him and me, I might throw punches. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I turn around and look at him. “I thought we were friends. You were the closest thing I had to a brother.”

“That hasn’t changed.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The action strikes me as insecure, but I don’t get caught on it, too focused on what is on my mind. 

“Yeah. It has.” It’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest. “You’ve been acting like a dick for months.”

“Well if I’d known you’d get your panties in a wad, I would have talked to you more like a lady.” He laughs.

I turn away and slam out of the house.

Did you see that?!?! “...he crosses his arms over his chest…” A moment!!! A flash image of Griffin with a stronger, close-up lens. It was just an obscure line, but I wasn’t the only one who picked up on it. Lavinia (instagram friend @instaraygram), an amazing beta reader and friend, noted after reading The Stories Stars Tell, that she was curious about Griffin. “I feel like there’s a story there,” she’d said. I couldn’t shake her observation. The more I read that line (because I had to read it so many times as I edited), the more curious I became. It was as if Griffin burrowed into my brain. 

The truth, however, I didn’t want him there. I was resistant to the idea of writing Griffin’s story because I didn’t like him. How was I ever going to write a story about a character I didn't like? If I didn’t like him, neither would readers. Except there was that moment, that tiny portrait of his insecurity. Then the questions began: Why is Griffin insecure? What is he hiding behind all that douchiness?

And suddenly, I was thinking about answering those questions…

So, thanks to Lavinia, In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers were born.


Next week: Writing Griffin Nichols


The Road of Echoes: New Blog Series

Fifteen weeks and a couple of days are all that remains between today and the publication of In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers. Considering that each time I venture into a new story I experience the doubt and subsequent terror that I will never be able to write a book ever again, I am ecstatic that we’re moving toward the finish line. 

In-the-Echo-of-this-Ghost-Town-Generic.jpg

I am so proud of these books. I am so proud of Griffin.

Those of you who have read The Stories Stars Tell will understand why I’m so proud, because you will recognize Griffin as a secondary character from that book. He wasn’t a likeable character in Emma’s and Tanner’s stories.  As Tanner’s best friend, Griffin did everything in his power to undermine Tanner’s growth, block the relationship, and guilt Tanner into remaining stuck within the Bro Code. 



So how does a character go from being vile to the hero of his own story?

It’s a great question, and one I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull off. I certainly had a ton of doubts when I first started writing it. I’m so excited to say that I did it. Griffin made it to “book boyfriend” status. I know it in my bones that’s a true statement. How did I do it?

That will be the subject of the next 9-week blog series. If you’ve ever wanted to go behind the scenes of a book, that’s where I’ll be taking you. From why I wrote the book, to research, to narrative choices, to character design, I’m going to invite you behind the scenes to look at how I created these two books. 

Be sure to join me here on the blog each Wednesday for a new installment about the creative journey from villain of The Stories Stars Tell to the hero of In the Echo of this Ghost Town and When the Echo Answers.  If you want more information, be sure to join my newsletter (which publishes the first of every month. That’s tomorrow!) There will be information about ARCs and the Pre-Order incentive.

Next week: What inspired me to take a closer look at Griffin as a possible hero for his own story.




Favorite Reads of 2021 So Far

We’re (almost) halfway through 2021. Wait. What.


This means I’m also halfway to my reading goal of reading 100 books this year, stacking in at 53 reads so far. Nice. I figured that meant it would be a good time for a Favorites so far. Here they are:


My favorite Books I’ve read in 2021 So Far …

  1. Anxious People by Fredrick Backman is awesome. The story follows the lives of several different characters in a crime that goes terribly wrong. I struggled initially and even thought I would abandon the book because of the multiple point of view, but once I was hooked, I was hooked. It’s both poignant tear jerker and laugh out loud funny. One of my best reads ever.

  2. Fable & Namesake by Adrienne Young is a YA duology that follows Fable in this pirate inspired fantasy. Hiding her power as a gem mage, Fable needs to find her way to her father who didn’t want her. She doesn’t expect to find a family in the process. I loved the originality of this world.

  3. Paradise, WV by Rob Rufus releases this summer (July), and I was fortunate to get to read an early copy. It’s a wonderful story of several characters caught amidst a crime spree happening in their small town that is reminiscent of a serial killer behind bars who committed crimes years before. Mystery, coming-of-age, and family saga, Paradise, WV was a wonderful ride that I couldn’t put down.

  4. Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse is an epic adult fantasy influenced Native Americas cultures. It took me a while to get into the story because of the multiple points of view, but once I was invested it was a quick and adventurous ride to the end. The heroes and the villains aren’t always clear which makes for a very intriguing read.

  5. Frankly in Love by David Yoon is a wonderful and well written YA novel that follows Frank Li on his journey through his last year of high school, his first experience of falling in love, and his struggle to reconcile his Korean heritage with his American roots. Loved this read.

  6. Charming As a Verb by Ben Philippe is another wonderful YA novel exploring themes of diaspora, socio-economic disparity and race. Henri Haltiwanger is working hard to achieve his dreams, but when he takes matters into his own hands, he has to decide how far he’s willing to go to make his dreams happen and face the consequences when he does. Well written with awesome characters. Really enjoyed this story.

  7. Ever After Always by Chloe Leise is an independently published RomCom. The third book in the Bergman Brothers series, this is about a Bergman sister, Freya, who’s marriage is falling apart. Can she and her husband, Aiden put it back together before it’s too late? I loved this story, and the healthy way it presents marriage. I have enjoyed each book in this series and am looking forward to the fourth installment which publishes later this year (September).

I’m going on vacation! See you back here in July.