I'm finishing up my narrative after eight long weeks of intensive work. Most days I've spent hours upon hours doing the actual writing, and I can confidently say that every single day I've at least spent half of my waking moments thinking about the novel. Sometimes people say that I seem quite far away, lost in my own thoughts. To be specific, I'm lost in my own world: the fantasy world of Em.
As I come to the end of the story, which is really only the end of the first of a trilogy, I find myself reflecting more and more. I always have a tendency to become introspective when I'm finishing something up. I spent days thinking back on my years at university as both my undergraduate and postgraduate degrees came to a close. When I left my last call centre job, I spent a long time just remembering all the experiences that I had encountered (most of which I must say were very, very bad).
I believe that being reflective is a job hazard for the writer (I mean, what am I doing now but reflecting on how being reflective is a job hazard for a writer). However, as inconvenient as it may be sometimes and downright annoying for other people -- no one wants to feel like they're being ignored, but often the author or poet cannot help but disappear for hours at a time into their own brain -- I feel that it's integral to the entire process of writing.
My experience of novel writing has been one of constant revision, and revision comes through reflection. It's not just about editing the words as they appear on your page or screen. More importantly it's about taking a serious look at everything: the characters, the structure, and even the entire plot. No more so is this important than when you reach the end of the first draft, when finally you have a novel from start to finish. You must reflect, because while you might have the words, they may be complete and utter rubbish. You need to take a good look at everything and think to yourself, is this really necessary? Does this character serve a good purpose? And ultimately, does this character/chapter/plot really deserve to be in the narrative at all?
This is the position that I find myself in right now. The penultimate chapter has been completed, and the little blinking cursor on my screen is urging me on. Finish it, just finish it! But what does the cursor know?
After all, the end of the narrative is only the beginning of the novel.
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Waking Up and Smelling the Coffee
It's not easy when you decide to go it alone. It doesn't matter what it is that you're doing solo, be it ending a relationship, a new business venture, or even deciding that you want to become a writer. Ultimately all of these things have one thing in common: that they're terrifying.
The only one of those that I don't have experience in is the business venture, but I do have some (painful) experience in the other two. It's a terrible feeling to decide to end a long-term relationship. In my experience the guilt is crushing, and I don't like to be the 'bad guy' in any given circumstance, especially after being with someone for such a long time. As well as this, it's utterly daunting to break away from everything you thought that you wanted and thought that you knew. Is it the right decision? Will it be something that you'll regret?
The same can definitely be said for that moment when you decide that you want to be a writer. It's intimidating. What if you fail? What if, even though you love your own ideas and that you're passionate about your own writing, that ultimately you're just not any good? People give you the patented, "Uh huh, yeah, right" look when you tell them that you want to be (or indeed are) a writer, and I suppose until you actually get published this look will haunt you. If will follow you around like a black shadow and loom over you, joining in with that little voice in the back of your head: what if you fail?
Deciding to work on a novel is a huge commitment, especially for a new writer who does not have the luxury of being established, earning an income and being able to dedicate your life to the process. Trying to get the first novel done is like bailing out a sinking boat with a thimble. In my experience, trying to get the first fantasy novel finished has been like bailing out a sinking boat with a thimble that has a hole in the bottom. Creating pages and pages, literally thousands of words, of information on backstories, cultures, races, rituals -- not to mention dynamics of government and military operations -- takes up vast amounts of time. That on top of actually writing the damn narrative means that you have to squeeze so much into such little time. Maybe that's why it's taken me over a decade to get to where I am now.
I was thirteen when I decided that I wanted to be a novellist. At the time it seemed so simple, so perfect. I loved to write; I thought I was good at it (when in fact I was woeful, but who isn't at thirteen?). I never, ever thought that it would be so hard. As the years passed by I did a lot of growing up, and I realised that it was not going to be as easy as I had hoped. I had set a huge challenge for myself, for while I knew that I wanted to write a fantasy book I didn't want to simply recycle the idea of the elf, man and dwarf (not that there's anything wrong with that, it just wasn't for me). I had to go about creating not only a new species, but a new planet, and not just one but over ten different cultures -- some of which don't even feature in the book, but are important context for me as the author.
I suppose the fact that I'm nearing the end of the narrative of the first book now has given me reason to reflect on the journey that I have taken over the past decade. To use an old simile, it's been like waking up and smelling the coffee. I'm not the person that I was when I first envisioned Imi and Charo, and they're not the same either. I've grown up; I've matured (sort of). So has my writing style and my characters. Now I find that I'm not just afraid of my novel being cast aside by publishers as complete trash, but I know that if that happens, that nearly half of my life has been dedicated to working on something that in the end has been totally in vain. I honestly don't know how I would cope with that.
Only time will tell.
PS: as for smelling the actual coffee, I must share with you my new favourite writing haunt: Nerdtopia Coffee Ltd. It's run by a friend of a friend of mine and, as the name might suggest, is a haven for gamers, readers, and all of the rest of the menagerie of nerds that inhabit Belfast. If you're ever in the university/Stranmillis area I strongly suggest that you stop by.
The only one of those that I don't have experience in is the business venture, but I do have some (painful) experience in the other two. It's a terrible feeling to decide to end a long-term relationship. In my experience the guilt is crushing, and I don't like to be the 'bad guy' in any given circumstance, especially after being with someone for such a long time. As well as this, it's utterly daunting to break away from everything you thought that you wanted and thought that you knew. Is it the right decision? Will it be something that you'll regret?
The same can definitely be said for that moment when you decide that you want to be a writer. It's intimidating. What if you fail? What if, even though you love your own ideas and that you're passionate about your own writing, that ultimately you're just not any good? People give you the patented, "Uh huh, yeah, right" look when you tell them that you want to be (or indeed are) a writer, and I suppose until you actually get published this look will haunt you. If will follow you around like a black shadow and loom over you, joining in with that little voice in the back of your head: what if you fail?
Deciding to work on a novel is a huge commitment, especially for a new writer who does not have the luxury of being established, earning an income and being able to dedicate your life to the process. Trying to get the first novel done is like bailing out a sinking boat with a thimble. In my experience, trying to get the first fantasy novel finished has been like bailing out a sinking boat with a thimble that has a hole in the bottom. Creating pages and pages, literally thousands of words, of information on backstories, cultures, races, rituals -- not to mention dynamics of government and military operations -- takes up vast amounts of time. That on top of actually writing the damn narrative means that you have to squeeze so much into such little time. Maybe that's why it's taken me over a decade to get to where I am now.
I was thirteen when I decided that I wanted to be a novellist. At the time it seemed so simple, so perfect. I loved to write; I thought I was good at it (when in fact I was woeful, but who isn't at thirteen?). I never, ever thought that it would be so hard. As the years passed by I did a lot of growing up, and I realised that it was not going to be as easy as I had hoped. I had set a huge challenge for myself, for while I knew that I wanted to write a fantasy book I didn't want to simply recycle the idea of the elf, man and dwarf (not that there's anything wrong with that, it just wasn't for me). I had to go about creating not only a new species, but a new planet, and not just one but over ten different cultures -- some of which don't even feature in the book, but are important context for me as the author.
I suppose the fact that I'm nearing the end of the narrative of the first book now has given me reason to reflect on the journey that I have taken over the past decade. To use an old simile, it's been like waking up and smelling the coffee. I'm not the person that I was when I first envisioned Imi and Charo, and they're not the same either. I've grown up; I've matured (sort of). So has my writing style and my characters. Now I find that I'm not just afraid of my novel being cast aside by publishers as complete trash, but I know that if that happens, that nearly half of my life has been dedicated to working on something that in the end has been totally in vain. I honestly don't know how I would cope with that.
Only time will tell.
PS: as for smelling the actual coffee, I must share with you my new favourite writing haunt: Nerdtopia Coffee Ltd. It's run by a friend of a friend of mine and, as the name might suggest, is a haven for gamers, readers, and all of the rest of the menagerie of nerds that inhabit Belfast. If you're ever in the university/Stranmillis area I strongly suggest that you stop by.
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