How to Write Action Adventure Novels

by Michael Newton

  In the early 1970s, a rash of martial arts adventure series swept the market, cashing in on the success of Bruce Lee’s films and David Carradine’s television series, Kung Fu. Some of them can still be found in used-book stores, their cover art resembling Chinese movie posters, boasting titles like Karate Killers and Kung Fu Avenger. Some showed real imagination, like the Western series Six-Gun Samurai, but as Chuck Norris has been forced to try for movies with at least the vestige of a plot behind the snap-kicks, so the various karate series faded in the stretch. Of the original contestants, only The Destroyer has survived, and it was never solely martial arts from the beginning. Recent efforts—Chant, from Berkley-Jove, for instance—have a minor following, but nothing would-be authors can afford to stake their hopes on.

  Mel Gibson’s box office bonanza in The Road Warrior produced a rash of postapocalyptic action novels, facing rugged heroes off against the perils of America laid waste. A few, like The Survivalist and Doomsday Warrior, wage unending war against the Russian occupying army. Most—like Deathlands, Endworld, Phoenix, and The Traveler—are set against the backdrop of a new Stone Age, complete with mutant life forms and a drastically revised geography. (The postapocalyptic theme has even taken root in juvenile fiction with series like Firebrats and After the Bomb, which tone down sex and violence to suit their more delicate readers.)

  A fairly recent entry to the action field has been embodied in the trend toward techno-thrillers. Clive Cussler, author of Firefox and Raise the Titanic, is a groundbreaker in this area. Another winner in the techno-thriller sweepstakes is Tom Clancy, who presents his readers with state-of-the-art weaponry and surveillance equipment in Patriot Games, Red Storm Rising, and The Hunt for Red October. Fans of techno-thrillers want their gadgetry authentic (or, at least, authentic-sounding), and they thrive on novels like Kill the Potemkin, Flight of the Old Dog, and The Fifth Horseman. Research may be called for on the part of authors who are not mechanically inclined, but if you’ve always had a secret yen to be an engineer—or if you are an engineer!—this field may be for you.

  Another subdivision of the action genre, borrowing substantially from a related discipline, consists of the new “adult” Westerns. Pioneered, ironically, by Briton George G. Gilman in the 1960s, with his Edge and Steele series from Pinnacle, adult Westerns differ from their traditional ancestors in the same way adult films deviate from family fare, namely, in amounts of sex and violence. In series such as Longarm, The Gunsmith, The Scout, and The Trailsman, our heroes get lucky with women as often as six-guns or cards. This subject area is also one where lusty heroines have proven their ability to grapple with the guys in offerings like Lone Star, Buckskin, The White Squaw, and Arizona Hellcat. Generally speaking, Westerns are an area where books can be evaluated by their covers; look for blood and lots of cleavage on the new adult variety, reflecting content with a fair degree of accuracy. Traditional oaters are more sedate, inside and out, devoting more attention to development of characters and settings, as a general rule of thumb.

  Westerns aren’t the only genre that has made at least a partial crossover into action/adventure, though the other hybrids have enjoyed a mixed reception in the marketplace. Police procedurals have overlapped with short-lived series like The Hunter, Sledge, and Dirty Harry, but their popularity has faded in the stretch and none remain in print today. You’ll generally find the action novels shelved with mysteries in major chain stores, but they really don’t belong there. In the hard-core action genre, there is seldom any lasting doubt about “whodunnit.” Rather, we are served our villains early on, with relish, and the story marches toward their ultimate comeuppance in a blaze of gunfire. Any twists and turns along the way are icing on the cake.

  Some tales of fantasy, especially the sword and sorcery variety, appear to have as much in common with the action genre as they do with fairy tales or science fiction. One or two, like Raven, have been lately billed by publishers as “action-fantasy,” and fans of Conan the Barbarian, Doc Savage, even Tarzan, have been sampling some pretty hard-core action since the 1920s. If there is a clear dividing line between the modern action novels and this venerable subdivision, we shall find it in reality. The modern action hero pits himself against a panoply of real-life monsters—mafiosi, terrorists, and psychopathic killers—in familiar (if exotic) settings. There is no resort to spells or magic swords, no surgery (a la Doc Savage) that can change the heavies into choir boys overnight.

  Occult adventures got off to a rocky start in 1970, with Michael Avalone’s Satan Sleuth, but found a more receptive audience in Europe, whence The Night Hunter, a British import, has arrived to test domestic markets. Movie tie-ins have been more successful; readers have seen box-office gold trickle down to the bookstores on novelizations of screenplays for Rambo, Predator, The Terminator, Magnum Force, Invasion USA, and The Exterminator.

  While we’re talking feature films, it should be noted that modern action/adventure novels have a poor track record for translation to the silver screen. With the notable exception of First Blood (which spun off to the Rambo series), no major action novel has been able to take Hollywood by storm. The Executioner, The Warlord, The Survivalist, and other series have been optioned off to major studios for years—in Bolan’s case, for decades—but with passing time, the chances of their actual production grow increasingly remote. It took The Destroyer fifteen years to turn up on film, and the result—a classic dud called Remo Williams—self-destructed at the box office, going down with all hands in a sea of red ink, to a chorus of well-deserved hoots from the critics.

  New writers with movies in mind may have better results with an original screenplay—provided they also have talent, mechanical skills, and the requisite discipline, plus a few contacts in Tinsel Town. (More on submission techniques in an upcoming chapter.) A glance at the theater listings, a stroll through your neighborhood video outlet, and voilà, you’ll turn up adventure aplenty. While films like Commando, Raw Deal, Lethal Weapon, and Cobra may not figure high in the race for an Oscar, they’re all making money … and so are their writers. The recent profusion of action/adventure on film (and TV, to a lesser extent) offers new genre writers one more avenue of attack.

  The Audience

  Obviously, there’s a ready market for the kind of rugged action heroes typified by Bolan, Rambo, Remo Williams, and their breed. But who, precisely, are the readers?

  Based upon a demographic study executed by Gold Eagle Books in 1985, it would appear that roughly 85 percent of them are male. Approximately half of those are under thirty-five years old, and a substantial number are (or have been) military personnel or law enforcement officers. They share a more-or-less pervasive interest in weapons, martial arts, and paramilitary tactics as applied to vigorous suppression of “the bad guys.”

  Raw statistics, though, present a hollow, fragmentary portrait of the “average” action reader. For a more complete appraisal, we must listen to those readers, one-on-one. A sampling of fan mail generated by Gold Eagle’s buyers, provided courtesy of the publisher’s reader-management editor, displays the range of backgrounds, interests, and styles of action loyalists.

  A high school student from Vancouver, Washington, explains: “The reason I keep reading your books is because before the eighth grade I never really liked reading. In fact, I hated it with a passion. For school book reports, I checked out books but just made them up. I was finally introduced to your series by a friend, and halfway through the book I knew I wouldn’t be making up any more reports. My book report grades have increased incredibly.”

  A lawyer from an East St. Louis suburb says: “I am writing as a longtime fan of yours who has collected every book in the series. I find them very enjoyable, and have passed them on to my sons, who also enjoy them.”

  From an army private: “I’m the sort of reader who likes a variety of literature. One night I could be engrossed in a novel by Steinbeck, Tolkien, or Stephen King, and the following evening totally enjoying one of your masterpieces.�
��

  A Florida teenager offers: “I’m writing to let you know I really enjoy reading your books. They are fast-paced and full of action. In my opinion, [the Executioner] represents what America should have at this time against terrorism. At times I wish I was Mack Bolan, defending the rights and beliefs of civilized men and women.”

  Another serviceman continues: “I was introduced to your series by a friend in high school. I am now twenty-two years old, serving in the U.S. Air Force, stationed in Japan. I enlisted in the military to fight for the ideals and beliefs that Mack Bolan has strived to protect.”

  And, finally, an ex-policeman writes: “I had to retire after twenty-six years with the police department due to a back injury and a gunshot wound which shattered my ankle bone. Being only forty-nine at the time of retirement, [the Bolan] series has helped me adjust. I have a complete set of your books, and have read the series five times.”

  In short, the action market is composed of men and women representing every walk of life, all ages. The abiding trait they share in common is a passion for adventure, whether it be set against the backdrop of a Third World battleground, an urban jungle, or the withered hellscape of a futuristic no-man’s land.

  Successful action writers serve as travel agents, carrying their readers far away from daily drudgery of creditors and housework, granting them an opportunity to cast routine aside and gamble with their lives, secure in the understanding that it’s all a game. If you provide your readers with a memorable trip, they won’t forget you, either. And a satisfying number will express their gratitude by picking up your next book, and the next … .

  Before we start to count those dollar signs, however, let’s explore the fundamentals that must be mastered on the road to high adventure. Every hero’s quest must have a point of origin, and every story must begin with an idea.

  3. For Openers . . .

  What should I write about?

  The classic question puzzles every writer—veterans as well as novices—at one time or another. Some will never get beyond it, bogging down in writer’s block before they get a word on paper. Others write to hapless editors with the announcement that they’re ready to begin their first big novel … if the editors will only furnish them with subject matter, plot, and characters. A few jump in feet-first, and manage to complete the job by pure, dumb luck.

  I’ve often heard it said that “everybody has a book inside them.” Hogwash. Many would-be writers don’t possess the talent or imagination to produce a simple paragraph, much less a finished novel. Some who try (and fail) are great “idea men,” capable of sketching brilliant thumbnail plots, but sadly lacking in the discipline required to see their projects through.

  The authors who survive in genre fiction, or in mainstream, share a common dedication and determination to succeed. They aren’t created equal—some may shine, while others barely glimmer—but they rise above the mass of “wanna-bees” through perseverance and at least a modicum of skill. No matter what their level of achievement, though, from “brand name” authors to their fledgling competition, all start out together, scrounging for the germ of an idea.

  What should you write about?

  Some authors may rely on inspiration for their hot ideas, but most, in modern action writing, seek a more substantial basis for their work. It’s fine for Stephen King’s protagonist in Misery to sit before his ancient Royal, waiting to “find the hole in the paper” and let his story “write itself,” but you can starve to death while waiting for a novel to appear by magic. Simply stated, folks, she just don’t work that way.

  Unless you’re favored with a very lively muse, you’ll need at least a general notion of your story as a launching pad, before you set to work. By “story,” I’m referring to the subject of your novel, rather than the plot. As every freshman English student knows—or should know—plot consists of incidents that motivate assorted characters and move them on from the beginning of a story to its ultimate conclusion. Subject, on the other hand, refers to underlying themes, the basic “what” and “why” of any given tale, without which plot becomes a string of pointless and irrelevant scenarios.

  You may not know precisely where your characters are going in a story, and you may decide to kill off some of your favorites before you’re done, but if you don’t know what they’re trying to accomplish in the first place, you’ve got trouble on your hands.

  So, where do stories come from?

  Inspiration vs. Homework

  Many authors draw on personal experience for inspiration, falling back upon the maxim that it’s best to “write what you know.” Ex-Green Beret Barry Sadler is a prime example; having first parlayed a tour of Vietnam into a million-selling record album, he now enjoys a successful career as a novelist in the action/adventure genre. Big-city police work has yielded several authors of note, including Robert Daley, Dorothy Uhnak, and Joseph Wambaugh. Service in the intelligence community provides a taste of gritty realism to novels written by E. Howard Hunt and Bill Fieldhouse, not to mention the late, great Ian Fleming.

  The quest for raw experience is sometimes carried to extremes. One writer on the staff of Able Team (Gold Eagle Books) became so fascinated with the politics of Third World liberation struggles that he wound up in Sri Lanka, teaching martial arts to rebel forces, building barricades and booby traps while bloody riots raged around him in the streets. I generally would not recommend this type of “research” to the novice, but there’s no denying that a taste of combat can provide new insight, bringing an immediacy to the printed page.

  It isn’t necessary for an author to be living on the edge, however, for experience to serve as inspiration. Even the most trivial, mundane event may offer grist for the creative mill. Stephen King’s short story “Crouch End” was inspired when King got lost in London’s back streets, searching for a friend’s address. In 1983, Gold Eagle’s authors gathered for a two-day conference in Las Vegas, plotting new directions for their series. One of the attendees, Jerry Ahern, subsequently used the meeting as the centerpiece of an adventure novel. In The Hard Way (Gold Eagle, 1984), Ahern portrays a group of action writers, meeting in Las Vegas, who are taken hostage by a band of terrorists. They finally defeat the heavies, using weapons one of them habitually carries in his luggage, and the day is saved.

  Assuming that you’re not a mercenary, and you don’t spend your vacations stalking terrorists or bugging embassies, you have another source of inspiration at your fingertips. That’s right—the daily news! If you possess the requisite imagination to be writing novels in the first place, any network news show, any major urban daily should provide you with at least the germ of an idea. If you cannot rack up at least a dozen viable suggestions from the news in any given week, there’s something badly out of whack. I’d recommend you try a different source, or take another look at the material in hand to jump-start your imagination.

  Television and the movies fall back constantly on current issues as the basis for their action plots. In Dirty Harry, for example, the sadistic “Scorpio” is no more than a stand-in for a real-life killer, the elusive “Zodiac.” (Unlike the heavy played by Andy Robinson, however, Zodiac is still at large.) A recent episode of TV’s “Equalizer” squared the title hero off against an adult bully bent on harassing a small boy plagued with AIDS—a story lifted more or less intact from headlines out of Florida and Indiana. And if you’re afflicted with insomnia some evening, don’t waste time with sheep; try counting all the films and novels rooted in the controversy over MIAs in Vietnam.

  I personally try to link my action novels with the latest news whenever possible. A blend of fact and fiction, if judiciously employed, adds authenticity—and it may entice new readers who are interested in your subject matter from their own perusal of the daily news. In 1981, when several members of the Ku Klux Klan were busted on the eve of their attempt to seize the island of Dominica, I saw potential for a story. Phasing out the Klan in favor of a neo-fascist billionaire with syndicate connections,
planning an invasion of Grenada, I produced the novel Paramilitary Plot (Gold Eagle, 1982). Reports of Yakuza involvement in Las Vegas gambling inspired The Bone Yard, and a Sunday supplement on teenage runaways in Southern California prompted me to write Hollywood Hell (both from Gold Eagle, 1985). In 1986, a “60 Minutes” segment dealing with Vietnamese “dust children” planted the seed for a revenge novel, Child of Blood, which sold to Bantam Books.

  Sometimes, with luck, you get the jump on history. Six months before the flight crew of a skyjacked aircraft used their fire ax on a terrorist, with permanent results, I included a similar scene in the manuscript of Flight 741 (Gold Eagle, 1986). And five full years before Islamic gunmen captured the Achille Lauro, I dispatched a team of Black September terrorists to seize the good ship Crystal Belle, in Death Cruise (Carousel, 1980).

  Psychic? Hardly. Nor do I believe the PLO was studying my manuscript before they launched their raid. The fact is, if you learn enough about the real-life heavies, come to understand the way they think and operate, you may incorporate a realism in your work that offers a decided edge in making sales.

  Avoiding Obsolescence

  When shopping for a story line, beware of subjects bearing built-in deadlines, which may soon be obsolete. The novel you begin today will not be done tomorrow; it may not be done a year from now, and writing time is only one of several delays you must anticipate before your hot idea turns up in bookstores. Editing and publication of a novel both take time, and while a major house can grind out quickie paperbacks within two weeks, in cases of emergency, the average time is more like eighteen months, from your submission of a “finished” manuscript to its release through retail outlets. (The volume in your hands was purchased by its publisher in autumn 1987, for release in 1989.) It should be obvious that if you’re sitting down in late November 1991, to start a novel based around the presidential race in ’92, you’ve got potential timing problems on your hands.