JANE K. CLELAND
Avoiding Saggy Middles
JANE K. CLELAND is the author of the IMBA-bestselling and Agatha- and Anthony-nominated Josie Prescott Antiques Mystery series. The books are often reviewed as an Antiques Roadshow for mystery fans. Consigned to Death was named by Library Journal as one of only twenty-two core titles recommended for librarians seeking to build a “cozy” mystery collection, alongside novels by Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers.
 
 
Saggy middles are the bane of most mystery writers’ existence.
You’ve started with a bang (or a poisoning or a clunk on the head); you’ve introduced your characters and laid the groundwork so that key suspects with credible motives are on your readers’ radar; and your detective has begun his or her investigation. You’re somewhere about a quarter of the way through, and the pace has slowed to a crawl: the action has become predictable, and you can’t think of how to pep it up.
The answer is to ratchet up the tension three separate times in the middle two quarters of the book. Kill someone, introduce suspense, or add a plot twist. This is easier said than done, of course, because nothing you do can be contrived or coincidental. All incidents must develop organically based on the characters; likewise, all character development must evolve naturally as a result of the incidents.
The best tension-inducing incidents involve ordinary events. While you’re putting away groceries, for instance, you notice that a knife is missing from your knife block. The doorbell rings in the middle of the night, but when you peek out the peephole, no one’s there. You’re alone in an elevator with the doors closing, when suddenly an arm pushes in.
If you structure your novel in quarters, planning how to increase tension in the middle half is easier. In the first quarter, introduce the characters, set the scene, and kill someone. In the last quarter, weave all the plot threads into one cohesive whole, solve the crime, and resolve any outstanding issues. In the middle two quarters, increase tension by adding danger—three times.
For instance, let’s say your book is 300 pages long. Between pages 75 (one quarter in) and 225 (three quarters in), add three incidents designed to pep up the 150 pages in between. For example, in the center chunk of my sixth Josie Prescott Antiques Mystery novel, Deadly Threads, I do the following:
1. Terrify Josie by having her hear weird noises while walking alone in a shadowy, cold warehouse;
2. Shoot Gretchen, Josie’s employee, as Josie stands next to her—leaving the reader wondering if the bullet was intended for Josie; and
3. Burn Gretchen’s home down while Josie, thinking Gretchen’s inside, tries to rescue her.
Consider the first incident. Long before the middle of the book, you meet a gung-ho intern named Ava. She loves learning the antiques appraisal business, and is especially enamored of the vintage clothing collection Josie’s just been hired to appraise. I’ve also planted (i.e., mentioned earlier) that Ava, like most of her college-age contemporaries, listens to music on her iPod every minute she can.
In the excerpt that follows, Josie is walking alone through her cavernous, dimly lit warehouse when she hears something odd, soft rustlings followed by tinny scratching sounds.
“Hello!” I called. “Is anyone here?”
Silence, then a scrape, followed by soft sounds, footsteps maybe, then another rustle and another scrape.
Why wasn’t whoever was inside responding? I wondered. Maybe a small animal had snuck in, a squirrel, perhaps. I wasn’t scared exactly, but it was eerie, standing there alone in a quasi-dark place, hearing odd, unfamiliar noises. I told myself not to be silly, that I was in my own building during working hours, that nothing could possibly be amiss. Still, as I started down the central aisle, I shivered as if a cold breeze had blown through the warehouse.
The tension builds as Josie tiptoes past shadows that resemble people, her heart pounds and her pulse spikes because she knows that a killer is on the loose. The situation is relatable—we can imagine how we’d feel in those circumstances. When she discovers Ava going through the racks of plastic-enclosed garments while listening to her iPod, we all breathe a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished—I’ve added tension in the middle section of the book.
To help you think of spine-tingling, tension-inducing incidents that will resonate with your readers, consider the effect of the unexpected on the ordinary—and describe it sensually. In Deadly Threads, the first twist involves Josie seeing unexpected and mysterious shapes in a dim, gloomy environment (i.e., seeing); the second involves hearing pops, shots, but not knowing where they were coming from (i.e., hearing) ; and the third involves seeing smoke gush from an apartment while breathing in acrid fumes (i.e., smelling).
Thinking of how events will feel to your characters will help you select incidents that are realistic, significant, and meaningful, and that create deliciously dangerous tension.

EXERCISE

The first decisions you need to make in writing your mystery or thriller involve the setting, timing, crime, protagonist, suspects, villain, and clues you’ll plant along the way, as well as any subplots you plan on integrating. Delineated chronologically, this is your plot. Once that’s done, to avoid a saggy middle, add in three plot twists, surprising or suspenseful incidents, or elements of danger, as described above.
What can your protagonist see that would startle or frighten her?
 
What can your protagonist hear that would startle or frighten her?
 
What can your protagonist taste that would startle or frighten her?
 
What can your protagonist smell that would startle or frighten her?
 
What can your protagonist touch that would startle or frighten her?