KN Magazine: Articles

Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook: Interview Your Characters

By Steven Harms


To start, calculators down.

Now answer the following:
What is three times three?
Ten times seven?
Nine times two?
And, to finish this little exercise, what is eighty-five times forty-six? Take your time.

Hopefully you nailed the final answer. You may be asking what this has to do with being an author? Read on.

In the spring of 1985, I was two years into my first job at the Detroit Pistons. Around that same time, in my hometown of Milwaukee, Wisconsin something occurred that got my attention. The Milwaukee Bucks of the NBA had recently been purchased by Herb Kohl – I’ll get to him in a moment – and I felt the opportunity to return home was worth an inquiry. New ownership of a pro team generally comes with a slate of changes on the business side to align with a new owner’s vision and desire for how they want the place to operate. I wasn’t wrong. I sent a letter of inquiry to the president of business operations of the Milwaukee Bucks, not expecting a reply.

Two weeks later I received a call from John Steinmiller, introducing himself and asking that I come to Milwaukee for an interview. The role was a new position, and the person they were seeking would be responsible for building the sales team and crafting the external sales strategy.

I was flown in the following week and met with John. Our discussion went well, and I was excited to put it mildly. The opportunity would advance my career to the next level. As John wrapped our interview, he informed me that the new owner, Herb Kohl, would also like to meet with me one-on-one.

Who’s Herb Kohl? Perhaps you’ve shopped at Kohl’s. That was Herb’s family business, begun by his father in 1924. Kohl’s began as a grocery chain in the Milwaukee area before adding department stores beginning in 1962, eventually selling it all off in 1979. Herb Kohl purchased the Bucks in 1985 to prevent the team from exiting Milwaukee, in line with his community mindedness, which eventually led to him becoming a U.S. Senator, representing Wisconsin for twenty-four years. That’s the man I now sat across from in his spacious office at a top floor of Milwaukee’s tallest building.

The interview with him was straightforward – my background, schooling, sales experience with the Detroit Pistons, family, goals, and a few other traditional interview topics. Herb was a soft-spoken person, palpably gracious, and he made me comfortable as we chatted. Somewhere amid that interview, completely out of the blue, he asked me that final math question at the top of this article. Stone cold. No pivot. I can’t recall the exact digits, but you get the idea. To this day, I remember Herb said, “Take your time.” It was a jolt. I recall thinking that I was about to blow the interview and wouldn’t get the job. But I figured out quickly how to process the problem and answered it correctly. He then tossed me two more of similar nature. I passed all three. In the end, I landed the job.

My length of service with the Bucks lasted four years before I moved to New York City for my next opportunity. In hindsight, I wish I had taken a moment during my time with the Bucks to ask Herb why he threw those math problems at me. I’m convinced he did so to see how I process information and how I manage myself in a stressful situation. I just never asked. I think I know the answer, at least in part, which aligns with the task we have in creating our characters and developing them.  

Every good author understands that characters tell the author what to write, not the other way around. We’re responsible for bringing the people in our stories to life, intently listening to each, being thoughtful of their backstory, and abiding by who they are as a character. Their dialogue and actions drive the plot. How those are handled by an author is critical to maintaining a compelling, authentic story.

But what happens when a scene or chapter or subplot just won’t materialize, better known as writer’s block? All authors experience that moment, some less than others, but it’s unavoidable. It will happen, probably multiple times in the process of producing a manuscript. Successfully dealing with the problem opens the door to kickstart the interrupted creative process. There are many methods, but taking a cue from Herb Kohl, consider copying his technique.

Have a conversation with the characters on what they’re thinking. Throw them a wildly incongruent question of fact or importance that is unconnected to the story and see how they respond. If their answer misses the mark, that’s alright. Now you know. If they arrive at a plausible, reasonable answer, now you know that as well. If they hem and haw and sweat, tell them to take their time and only move on after they’ve answered. That’s also informative. You now perceive facets of them you hadn’t known, which may be a key ingredient in unblocking yourself and taking your story to a higher level.

Next time you’re at a Kohl’s, or drive by one, or see one of their advertisements, think back to this article and consider the “Kohl method” of interviewing a character(s) to handle current or future writing blocks. He or she may be able to figure out the “math question” you pose. Or maybe not. Either way their strengths, weaknesses, make-up, countenance, and other previously unrevealed attributes will come to the fore.

Just one rule, though. No calculators allowed.

Read More
Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook: A Lesson in Spray Hitting

By Steven Harms


One of the benefits of my previous career in professional sports was the opportunity to form relationships with the people on the “sports side” of the teams where I was employed.  I learned, many times by osmosis, the workings of the game from the professional’s point of view.

Case in point, Al Avila was the Assistant General Manager of the Detroit Tigers during my time working for the team. He became a good friend, and besides his genuine warmth and sociable nature, his deep knowledge of the game was something to heed. If you asked him a baseball question, he was great in explaining the answer.

I once asked Al to join me for breakfast as a special treat for a long-time corporate sponsor of the team, owned by two brothers who were rabid Tigers fans. We met them at a nice local establishment just to talk baseball. For me it was an awesome way to entertain a customer and for Al, well I’m sure it wasn’t something he loved to do, but he agreed to help me out. As the meal wore on, he was answering questions and providing his opinion on a variety of baseball topics. Finally, towards the end, he flipped the script and asked the brothers a question. He posed, “Do you know why right-handed batters are better spray hitters than left-handed ones?”

All three of us had no clue. Al proceeded to explain that it’s in the basics of the game. To score as many runs as possible, batters advance runners from first base to home plate, as everyone knows. Runners are moving from right to left in the second two legs of the process – first to second, second to third. It’s a one-way street, and you can’t go backwards. When players are on second and third base, they are scoring opportunities for the offense. When a ball is hit to the right side of the playing field, it helps advance the runner more so than if a ball is put in play on the left side of the field. For example, if a runner is on second base and the batter hits a fly ball to right field, the odds are high that the runner can advance to third base and potentially onto home plate. The right fielder must make their throw from a much longer distance than a leftfielder would have to in the same situation. Consequently, a fly ball hit to left field almost ensures that the runner on second base is not going to be able to advance, at least not all the way to home plate, because the throw is much shorter, giving the advantage to the defense.

With that as the backdrop, left-handed batters learn early on to pull their hits to the right side of the field to advance a runner, which is a more natural swing anyway. Conversely, right-handed batters must develop the skill to hit to the opposite field (right field) to increase the percentage of advancing runners. That’s called spray hitting, or the elevated ability to hit a baseball to the opposite field of your batting position. Due to the simple science on how to advance runners on base, lefties learn to pull while righties learn to spray. The ability to spray hit with some amount of success makes a player a valuable commodity because that individual has a talent to produce runs and win games.

Al’s insight concerning spray hitting crystallizes the value of seeking out information from people that have successful experience and a deep understanding of the topic at hand. Most everyone I’ve networked with or leaned into for advice and guidance on author-related subjects has displayed a willingness to share their learned knowledge. That mutual desire to assist fellow authors is at the core of the annual Killer Nashville Conference, and similar ones around the country. However, I think the secret sauce of my comparison to how Al Avila gave a “lesson” in spray hitting to seeking out advice from our gracious author community lies in the context of it being based on a singular detailed topic. 

Follow me here. Al was pointedly specific on one aspect of hitting. The benefit of a spray hit is uniquely applicable to a situational moment in the game of baseball. If there are runners at second and/or third base, a spray hit from a right-handed batter (the ball is hit to right field instead of that batter pulling the hit to left field) greatly enhances the odds of success in scoring runs from those base runners. But if there aren’t players on second or third base, a right-handed batter putting a ball into play to right field may allow them to reach first base, but a base hit to any field – left, center, or right – will achieve the same result. And, as I’ve witnessed a few times when no one is on base and the ball is hit to right field, the batter can still be thrown out at first base from the right fielder, but that would be impossible if the ball was hit to center or left field.

Bringing all this home (no pun intended), as authors we are well served to seek out advice and counsel from those that have the answers on specific topics. Key word being ‘specific.’ A few examples would be:

NOT SO GOOD: Do you have any suggestions on querying agents?
GOOD: I’m also a writer of cozy mysteries and seeking an agent. How did you land yours and can you steer me to a few agencies or agents that specialize in cozy mystery authors?

NOT SO GOOD: How do you use social media to market your books?
GOOD: Can you share with me your successful strategies for marketing your books across social media, and specifically with TikTok and Instagram?

NOT SO GOOD: Your John Doe thriller series has been hugely successful. How did you do it?
GOOD: I’ve decided to turn my first book, Jane Doe thriller, into a series. With the achievements you’ve had with your John Doe series, would you mind sharing with me the roadmap you took to make your second book a success, and what efforts you undertook that didn’t work?

Many times, it’s the initial question that will either open the floodgates of fantastic usable information or go the other way and all you’ll receive is a general reply containing information you either already knew or can find through every search engine on the internet. I must add that my career in selling pro sports sponsorships taught me to ask explicit questions concerning specific topics that would lead to the information I was seeking to put myself in the best possible position for success in landing them as a client.  The takeaway here is that specific targeted questions provide intelligence-filled answers.  

A final related note is to never underestimate the value of face-to-face interaction. Those conversations always bear the greatest fruit. My two previous clients, who one day had a private breakfast with Al Avila, can attest to the power of in-person connections. With that, next time you’re at a writer’s conference be sure to network, engage, and ask the right kind of questions of those willing to give you advice.

And now you’ve got a question to throw their way as well. Hint…Who’s better at spray hitting and why?

Read More
Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook: When Your Journey Collapses

By Steven Harms


On March 3, 1985, a severe winter storm of heavy, wet snow blasted Pontiac, Michigan causing the air-pressured roof of the Pontiac Silverdome, home to the Detroit Pistons and Detroit Lions, to concave. 

A year prior to that I began my career in pro sports with the Pistons. When I awoke the morning of the 4th, I had an inkling our home game that night would be cancelled due to the storm. Understatement of the year. Upon nearing the stadium as I drove into work, the sight was incomprehensible. The roof had inverted to such a degree that it wasn’t visible from the exterior. 

I parked and made my way into the offices, proceeding to my tiny cubicle, joining my colleagues as ticket sales representatives. The first thing we all did, including my boss and the rest of the team, was to head across the hall to the Silverdome’s press box to view the scene. That space looks out over the football field and the basketball court positioned in the southeast corner.

The decision was made immediately to postpone the game. Back to our cubicles, we jumped on our phones to call every season ticket holder to inform them of the situation. Side note – there was no internet or cell phones in 1985. A few hours later, unworldly rumbles and corresponding earthquake-like shakes rolled through our offices, taking out the power in the process. We all knew what happened.

Officially, in the southwest corner of the Silverdome, the snow depressed the fabric panels low enough so that the fabric met a steel lighting catwalk positioned just below the inner lip of the roof's ring beam. The hole caused a loss of air pressure, deflating the roof. Eventually the wet snow slid down into the bowl and ruptured more roof panels, collapsing several precast risers in the upper deck, and dislodging chunks of seating areas in the process including some from the upper level that had smashed the lower-level seats upon impact. One of the collapsed panels that fell demolished the Pistons court. For all of you college football fans, Gary Danielson was practicing at midfield with a few other Lions players when the collapse began, but they made it out of there in time. Repair operations of the roof began immediately but were interrupted for over a week due to high winds. In the end, nearly all the remaining panels in the deflated roof, one hundred in all, were either ripped off their moorings or badly damaged.

As for us Pistons staff members, our story continued. We were sent home the rest of that day for obvious safety reasons. Additionally, ten home games were left in the season (including a home game that evening) as well as the high likelihood that we would be in the NBA playoffs at the end of the month. Disaster central.

In the end, we managed through. We returned to work two days later deploying generators to power high blowing heaters so at least we could function. Our phone lines were reconnected. We had to relocate season ticket holders to wherever we were going to play. It became a master class in customer service. Within a few days our president had worked out a deal with Cobo Hall and Joe Louis Arena in downtown Detroit – home of the Detroit Red Wings – to play our remaining games.

The silver lining in all of this was the experience triggered a series of business decisions that ultimately led to the Pistons building their own arena, The Palace of Auburn Hills, a few miles up the road. The Palace opened in August of 1988, corresponding with the Pistons winning NBA Championships in the first two years. The Pistons organization went on to even greater heights, establishing Palace Sports & Entertainment, acquiring the largest amphitheater in the Detroit area, and serving as entertainment managers for a few other facilities as well as starting a popular minor league hockey team, indoor soccer, and a concert venue experience like no other at the time. What the Pistons did with the Palace was groundbreaking in many ways, earning national recognition.

But here’s the thing…

If not for the collapse of the Silverdome, none of what the Pistons morphed into would have happened. The disaster was the catalyst. It birthed a rebuilt organization that achieved heights it never imagined through vision, creativity, innovation, and strategic planning and execution.  

I plucked this experience from my past to shine a light on our author journeys. The correlation between the collapse of the Silverdome and what we process as authors, in every aspect, is a study in heroic pursuit of success. 

For every writer reading this, whether you are published or hoping to be, please take yourself back to that moment you decided to become an author and the first time you took your seat at your keyboard to begin the first chapter. Ahead of you are a thousand challenges. Some are obvious, some are not. Success is the goal, but along the way the pieces you put in place to reach that goal can collapse, fully or in part. Among many, there’s the story you’re writing itself followed by editing and rewriting, and then the rewrite of the rewritten story, and then another rewrite of that rewrite, the agent search and multiple rejections followed by your agent’s pitch (if you landed an agent) resulting in numerous further rejections from publishers, if at all, attaining recognition and sales if you opt for self-publishing, book marketing efforts producing no discernible results, your publisher changing their mind, the toll it may take on your home life as you climb the author mountain, and. . . fill in the blank.

Yet, as happened to the Pontiac Silverdome and its consequence on the Detroit Pistons, the hardships of heavy, wet snow that descends on your author journey can either bury you into a collapsed state or serve as a reagent for you to course correct. Rebuild, transform, innovate, vision-cast. Tap into that glorious attribute ingrained within because the ability to turn a blank piece of paper into a story isn’t at all easy. 

We are authors. Bring on the storm.

Read More
Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook: The Drummer Boy

By Steven Harms


As a contributing writer to Killer Nashville Magazine, I’ve been tapping into my career as a professional sports executive to showcase some very personal stories and observations from my time in the business. Each one has been filtered through the lens of utilizing those moments to correlate topics to discuss in the world of writing. 

Here, I’m going to pivot a bit and pluck a different kind of story from my background. It’s about my journey to becoming an author and getting published. My hope is that it serves to inspire, in some way, all those who are trying to break into the business despite its tendency to be a rather difficult and complex undertaking.

Writing is our passion. It’s a creative expression full of dreams and hopes and wants. Success, comes in many forms. For me, I simply wanted to challenge myself to write a novel and get it published through the traditional process. Would I have the chops to succeed? But that question and dream followed something I accomplished that was a precursor; an undertaking that took me down a road I had never traveled.

As a backdrop, I’m a person of faith and have attended church my entire life. In the early 2000s, my wife and I started attending a non-denominational church that, we came to find out, used creative arts at times in its sermons. Specifically, dance and drama in the form of skits to underscore that day’s message. I dabbled in theater in college, but frankly, never stayed with it and moved on with my career following graduation. Apparently, the acting bug never truly left me, and I ended up volunteering to be in some skits at our new church home. I eventually started writing their skits around 2004 to provide the need for “home-grown” drama, which implanted in me the writing bug. 

Fast forward a few years. I can’t tell you the exact moment, or the trigger, or the catalyst that washed over me one day and placed on me a calling to take a stab at being a playwright and write a unique story surrounding the birth of Jesus. If you are a person of faith, chalk that up to the nudging from the holy spirit. If you aren’t, chalk it up to me being a crazy half-baked dreamer.

The inspiration was quite clear and straightforward, though. The seed of the idea was to create a story using songs of the Christmas season to help drive the plot like a traditional musical does and build a compelling story arc that would touch believers and non-believers alike. The story wasn’t what you’re probably thinking. The target audience was very much adult-oriented, with the main character’s life unraveling in some very troubled waters. I also have zero musical talent, making this idea even nuttier. After a few nights of trying unsuccessfully to get it out of my mind, I dove in.

There I was, like we all sometimes do, staring at a blank screen with that heavy mixture of excitement and dread. You think I would’ve researched simple things like how to write a script, what were the dos and don’ts, generally acceptable lengths of scenes, and on and on. Well, I didn’t. I just started.

I landed on something from my childhood in the form of the song “The Little Drummer Boy.” It’s been a favorite of mine, perhaps my most favorite. I gave him a name–Mozel–and filled my head and notes with his backstory and plot line to get him to Bethlehem on the night of the birth. Along the way, literally a hundred characters came to life. Eight traditional Christmas songs were used to help drive the plot. It took me about a year to complete. 

I never told my church I was undertaking this effort. I simply acted on the inspiration I was gifted and wrote the story. I distinctly remember, when it was completed, I said something to God along the lines of, “There. I did it. You asked me to do this, and, well, I did, and it’s now done.” I never held any purposeful intent to ever let it see the light of day. 

Maybe a few weeks rolled by, and then something happened. The head of drama for my church had professional theater experience and was an advocate for utilizing drama as an outreach to the community. She directed some secular plays annually at our church over the years, with most of those targeted at kids and families (think ‘Wizard of Oz’ type shows). She and I became good friends along the way. We connected following a Sunday morning service, or maybe at a church picnic or something, and I casually told her why and what I had written. She wanted to read it and was adamant that I send it to her. This occurred in spring of 2007.

In December 2008, The Little Drummer Boy made its debut on our stage. All in, the cast and crew numbered around 150. We pulled together every discipline a professional theater needs, including volunteer leaders who captained costumes, lighting, sound, choir, music, ushers, parking, and marketing. We paid a local university’s drama department to build sets, leaning into their expertise based on our stage dimensions and back-of-house capabilities. The show ran for five years with four shows during one December weekend annually in 2008-2010, 2012, and 2014. Over 20,000 people attended the performances, some from nearby states who became aware of it through social media marketing. We gifted homeless veterans an entire section of seats each year. We bused them in from shelters in Detroit. They usually numbered about 300 and were the most energetic and grateful group of people I had ever been around. That alone was worth every minute of our collective efforts to bring the production to life. After those seven years, I pulled the plug due to personal burnout, and wanting the show to go out on a high note. 

But something interesting happened in that final year of the show. That same little voice gave me another nudge around October 2014. Having never written a short story, let alone a novel, it told me to write one, anyway. The inspiration was the challenge, but more so, to task myself with embedding moral principles as the undertow theme within a secular book in the mystery/thriller/suspense genres. Two years later, with an edited manuscript completed, I began my search for an agent and landed at the Liza Royce Agency in New York about five months into the process. The first book, Give Place to Wrath, was published in 2017 as the Roger Viceroy Series, with the second one, The Counsel of the Cunning, released in 2021 after a pandemic pause.

While the books have been critically well-met, the sales haven’t done nearly so, which makes me a member of the overwhelming majority of authors in the world. But I press on with determination and confidence, having shifted to a stand-alone story taking shape now for my third book.

As mentioned at the start of this blog, perhaps there is inspiration for you in the telling of my road to being a published author. Mine was a voice that simply wouldn’t go away. 

As I look back, I truly believe becoming the playwright of The Little Drummer Boy was a deep-dive training experience. I had to map it all out as the playwright and producer, ultimately having to devise a business plan and then follow through with the hundreds of action steps to bring the show to life. Yes, it was consuming, but the results outperformed even my most positive projections. The process taught me there are no corners to be cut, that inspirational story ideas, told well and authentically, will capture audiences, that people in your universe of contacts and relationships will help without question, that sticking to a plan produces results, and that you can jump into the great unknown and find your footing because you heeded a calling to do so.

Give it your excellent best effort. There are readers out there just waiting to dive into your book. Happy writing.

Read More
Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook: Michael Jordan, Me, and a Poster

By Steven Harms


To all aspiring authors, this one’s for you.

I’m fortunate to have two published books with a third taking shape on my computer, but aspiring I am. To be sure, my journey has had its share of bumps and bruises. For new and aspiring authors, the headwinds of the publishing industry are not only real but magnified. One big hurdle is securing a literary agent if you’re inclined to go the traditional route. That’s followed by the excruciating rollercoaster ride of landing a publisher, which comes with a healthy dose of rejection. Or, you can go self-published, but then you must manage the entire process and the burden that presents with perhaps a steeper climb to the top. There’s no right or wrong method. The point here is the odds of becoming a best-selling author are not favorable.

For as many authors that have “broken through” and reached a level of success, there are immeasurable others that haven’t, despite pulling all the right levers. With two books out, I’m decidedly in the second camp.

The reality is that there’s an ocean of books out there, and it can be daunting to wade into those waters. Establishing your brand, marketing your book, growing your sales, getting exposure, building a following, and then, ultimately, hopefully, expectantly, and with a measure of luck or timing or both, you catch a wave and ride it to the bestseller list.

I have an amazing agent and a supportive publisher, and I’m grateful for her. Killer Nashville Magazine also taking me on as a contributing writer has been a fantastic blessing as well. Yet, like so many others, I’m still in the trenches looking up and trying to break through.

In most any endeavor, realizing one’s dream includes a dose of luck and timing. They are uncontrollable variables, and they are real. Ask any athlete, actor, model, artist, singer, or musician. If you reach the elite echelon of one’s chosen pursuit, there was some degree of those two elements somewhere in the process.

With all that as the backdrop, my career in the sports business affords me an interesting take on the journey to author success. The parallels are weirdly similar.

At this juncture, you may be asking, where does Michael Jordan come into the conversation? Well, I had a unique experience that sort of captures my points here. Let’s jump back to February 7, 1988, inside the old Chicago Stadium, former home of the Chicago Bulls, and to the NBA Slam Dunk contest going on as part of the NBA All-Star Weekend. Specifically, let’s move ourselves down onto the court. And to the Slam Dunk staging area courtside by the Gatorade table near mid-court. That’s where I was stationed.

I was there at the request of the NBA to help manage the event. At that time, I was with the Milwaukee Bucks as head of ticket sales and the NBA had gotten to know me. They pulled in three team executives they knew they could rely on to help. Besides me, Don Johnson from the Denver Nuggets and Brad Ewing from the Houston Rockets were part of the team. We became a three-headed event manager, taking lead from the NBA’s VP, Paula Hanson. Thus, the headsets. We were to ensure that the participating players were seated in line as instructed on the team bench, and that we had the next player to compete informed and sent to that mid-court table to wait their turn for the competition. That’s where I was stationed, while Don and Brad were on the sideline managing the media and player positioning. I was there to keep the player in place and tell him when he should go.

I relay all this for a reason. 

That Slam Dunk contest is now part of the annals of NBA lore. It was, to some extent, Michael Jordan’s coming out party that cemented his reign over the NBA for years to come. He beat out Dominique Wilkins to win the slam dunk title, and in the process, executed a dunk where he sped the full length of the court and leaped at the free throw line to slam home the basketball. In mid-air, he looked like he was flying with his left arm slightly back, his legs like wings, the ball held high, and his elevation almost inhuman. A photographer captured that moment, and the photo went on to be a best-selling poster every fan wanted. Smart phones and personal devices with cameras weren’t around back then. Images of celebrities were monetized through posters sold at retail locations (no internet either!).

Look up that moment online and you’ll see two well-dressed guys on headsets squatting on the sideline, each sporting a mustache. That’s Don and Brad. On the poster. Forever. To the right, the Gatorade table where yours truly was squatting is cropped out. Forever. 

The three of us were equals. We each were young executives doing the same job for our respective teams, having got to that point because of our talent and capabilities. The NBA noticed us. We did all the right things to achieve our position. We worked hard, put in the hours, learned our craft, and improved ourselves by networking and just being in the business. But at that moment, on the floor of the Chicago Stadium, something unexpected happened to my two colleagues. They caught a break in that they’re visually and permanently part of a historic moment. And for the record, I have zero consternation that I was cropped out. I’m genuinely elated for them both. 

I tell this story because it speaks to our ambitions of finding success. As aspiring authors, we’re all the same in many ways. We have talent. We can write compelling stories. We network and learn and improve. We pour ourselves into our dream and spend countless hours writing, editing, rewriting, marketing, and sweating over the details. But sometimes, it simply comes down to luck and timing. 

And maybe I should’ve added Thomas Jefferson to the title of this article, because he said something that should give all aspiring writers some solace we’re doing all the right things to succeed. Jefferson is quoted as saying, “I am a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it." The newer version of that is “The harder I work, the luckier I get.”

So, keep writing and keep working hard. A dose of luck is an element to success in most any field. Stay the course and know that the road we’re on isn’t necessarily paved, rather that it’s a bumpy ride with potholes and hills to climb. But keep driving. Luck and timing seem to find their way to those that persevere.

Read More
Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook | A Ripe Kumquat

By Steven Harms


“Fumble at the thirty-two-yard line! Rod Smith jumped on that ball like it was a ripe kumquat!”

That line was uttered during a radio broadcast of a Detroit Lions home football game. And I’d bet my life savings that “kumquat” hadn’t been used in an NFL broadcast prior and would never be again. The Lions radio color announcer, Jim Brandstatter, made that rather pointed reference to a Lions defensive player recovering the fumbled ball. The idea of a kumquat on a football field conjures up a comedic image. A fumbled football is sort of one itself: as the ball bounces around, players scramble to get it; sometimes they accidentally kick it or refumble it as they frantically try to hold on. In the context of a fumbled football, using a kumquat simile was perfect.

Why did he say it that way? Well, he and I had a weekly challenge when I was working for the Lions. Each week during the season I would give him a word that he had to weave into the broadcast. I wrote it out on a small piece of paper about an hour before kickoff, entered the broadcast booth, and subtly handed it to him. It was our “thing.” If he was able to insert the “word of the game” into the broadcast each week during the season, I owed him lunch. If he missed one game, he owed me the same. As the weeks wore on, I had to get more creative if I wanted to win, and I thought I had him trapped with “kumquat.” The fumble happened in the fourth quarter, no less, of that game. Jim told me afterward he was on the verge of losing but for that fumble.

The point is, using a kumquat as a descriptive simile worked. In fact, it worked very well. Reimagine the utterance if it was a ripe apple, green bean, onion, or ear of corn. Not quite the same for some reason, is it? Or worse, if he stated “like a ripe egg” or “like a noisy kumquat.”

Bad similes are story killers and can take an author’s credentials down a few notches on the reader’s scale. They undermine a reader’s engagement with the story and implant in them a negative distraction that may carry throughout the rest of the book. 

However, a well-written simile can evoke just the right emotion. As a creative tool, it paints a picture that resonates in readers’ minds—good or bad—but it clicks. Similes can be quite powerful if written well and deployed at the perfect intersectional moment. 

A few rules to follow in writing similes (and there may be others):

KEEP THEM LOGICAL

The simile must be logical in comparison with the moment described, and it must have an immediate connection for the reader. If the reader needs to pause to think through the comparison because it doesn’t compute, don’t use it.

USE THEM SPARINGLY

Overuse of anything is generally not an effective strategy. I’ll relate it back to sports. If a football team always runs to the left on first down, the maneuver becomes boring and predictable and unsuccessful. 

STAY WITHIN COMMON KNOWLEDGE

A simile that uses unique or uncommon elements in the comparison can destroy the moment because the reader can’t grasp what it is you’re trying to say. If Jim Brandstatter had said “Rod Smith jumped on that ball like it was a timorous mangosteen!” (a real fruit from Southeast Asia), he may have been fired the next morning, or at least ridiculed for a full week.

STAY CLEAR OF SIMILARITY

When you’re deciding on a simile, ensure the two components of your comparison are different enough to drive home the point. As an example, a sentence that reads “She ran up the hill like an athlete in training” doesn’t give the reader much clarity on what that character was doing, since athletes do run up hills as part of their training regimen. There’s not a lot of separation. Conversely, “She ran up the hill like a wounded deer” creates an image of a frantic person, hobbled by fear as she’s trying to get somewhere fast and out of sight.

Whenever similes are deployed, read them to yourself to see if they’re effective. As an example, one of my characters in The Counsel of the Cunning voices his feeling that what he and his assistant detective are experiencing during their hunt for a missing person isn’t adding up. He amplifies this and says, “it’s like a duck in robin’s nest.” The point being that while a duck and a robin are both birds, their distinctions are profound, and a duck would never, nor could ever, be in a robin’s nest. He instinctively knows something is “just off,” and he uses this simile to make the point. He’s saying a bird in a nest is right, but the type of bird is wrong, or the nest should be in the water and not in a tree. In other words, their hunt is going in a direction that gives him pause, that makes him think something’s amiss, but he can’t quite put a finger on it.

Similes are a great tool to propel a story or a moment or a character description. But they are a unique tool and need to be done with precision if used. Don’t shy away from using them as writers, but be tactical in placing them and intuitive in writing them.

Read More
Steven Harms Shane McKnight Steven Harms Shane McKnight

The Writer’s Playbook | Fan Favorites

By Steven Harms


If you’ve followed any sport—pro, college, or youth—and whether that be a team sport (i.e., basketball) or solo (i.e., golf), there’s usually a consensus player who earns the term “fan favorite.” It’s the individual who captures the hearts of the fans, someone who isn’t necessarily the star player. In fact, I’d argue the moniker is reserved for a role player who rises above his or her perceived limitations to perform at a high level while organically baring their human side on or off the field of play. 

I used the term “earns” with purpose. In all my years in pro sports, I’ve witnessed many a player become that team’s fan favorite just by combining consistently good performance doing their specific job with a personality that endears them to the fan base. It’s not the all-star player, but rather the sub or the unglamorous player who shines. 

In Detroit, where most of my career was spent, those fan favorites were the players with that working-class approach to their job. Detroit is known as a blue-collar, hard-working, gritty, get-the-job-done town. And they love underdogs. Each market has a vibe and a role player that can capture that quality by their level of play and personality to become a star. 

The NBA enshrines such a player by honoring them with the “NBA Sixth Man of the Year Award,” an annual award to the player who is not a starter but is the best player who enters the game as a substitute and puts up the best performance over a season. Invariably, that player is a fan favorite in that player’s market. Why? He’s the role player that shines. Hollywood does the same thing with their “Best Supporting Actor” awards. The award itself is an affirmation that an amazing performance by a secondary character can win over the hearts and minds of the movie-going public.

This dynamic is true in the stories we write and read as well. In my debut novel, Give Place to Wrath, I introduced a three-headed detective team led by the main protagonist, Roger Viceroy. Viceroy dominates the book, but I gave enough spotlight to his two assistants that one of them became a surprising fan favorite—Trevor “Silk” Moreland.

Silk had the backstory in his favor. As a kid who grew up in a blighted section of Milwaukee, he was destined for basketball stardom with a full ride to Marquette University until his dreams were cut short by a bullet that destroyed his basketball career during his senior year in high school. But that unfortunate incident was also the fuse that ignited his passion for police work and honed his innate abilities to become an excellent detective. 

After the book debuted and reviews started coming in, there were a good number of people who called out Silk and how much they enjoyed his character with a few even suggesting I spin him off to his own series. I thought about it, but I also realized he resonated so much because he was a support character who authentically excelled at what he did as part of a team. 

Every story has minor characters, and at times, they’re written to bridge a gap in the story arc or serve a role to provide information or advance a particular chapter. Those characters are needed, to be sure. However, readers will instinctually gravitate to a secondary character if they are written with enough detail, given their own spotlight at times, and can showcase an authentic and relatable character trait or a backstory of overcoming their personal obstacles. They provide an ingredient that elevates the book because they tap into the charitable and empathetic side of our nature.  

I’ve seen it happen in Major League ballparks, NBA arenas, and NFL stadiums. When the fan favorite enters the game, there is a noticeable lift as the fan’s attention turns to that player and the energy and character traits he brings to the game. Win or lose, when the fan-favorite plays, the fans’ enjoyment of the game elevates because they are emotionally invested in that player.  

If an author can write a supporting character that earns an emotional connection to readers, a novel’s odds of success are simply enhanced. It’s the “fan favorite” effect. While readers are certainly intellectually involved with the protagonist, having that beloved bench player enter the game will always perk up the moment and pull a reader closer to where you want them to be–engaged and wanting to turn the page. 

Read More

Submit Your Writing to KN Magazine

Want to have your writing included in Killer Nashville Magazine?
Fill out our submission form and upload your writing here: