Everyone is a number in this dystopian near-future where cameras track your every move. Score above 90 and your set for life. Score below 75 and you’re on your own, kid.
1) The Middle. A novel is basically a horse. When it’s good, the middle part expands into a gentle, muscular curve that ultimately leads to the powerhouse–the ending (or horse’s butt, to continue with the metaphor). When a novel is not good, it looks like an old donkey with sway back. Once your middle is sagging, it’s a job and a half to write your way out of it, but write your way out of it you must. My current novel has eleven chapters and I have spent the past month rewriting chapters five and six. Coincidence? I think not. 2) Sequels. My first novel is all about discovery. Or as a reviewer recently said of it (and I paraphrase here) in the first half of the book, the premise is the plot. Enter the sequel and now you have to do something with this premise. But, alas, one can’t merely tack on some artificial plot structure, some cloak and dagger nonsense, or scooby doo escapades. One must juice the premise itself for some kind of forward-moving narrative. Very tricky indeed. 3) Fatigue. I write short-ish novels. 60,000 to 70,000 words. Still, that takes a long time. And by the time I’ve realized I’ve made a donkey instead of a stallion, I’m tired. Not sleepy tired, but frazzled, mind-wrecked, useless tired. And I still have the hardest part of writing to get through. Of course, there are other challenges. I still don’t fully get commas and tend not to use them much. My first drafts are always darker and meaner than they should be. And I tend toward protagonists who find themselves ridiculous. But these are small things. Things I can deal with. It’s the three baddies above that are slowly driving me insane. Nevertheless, I shall endure. Sadly for me, I am passionately obsessed with this novel, as I have been with everything I’ve ever written for publication. Making sure my characters make their way out into the world on the back of a mighty stallion is my burden and my calling. Oh, and as for what you can do about any of this? Sadly nothing. Just, maybe, have a heart next time you’re reading a book and wondering why you’ve suddenly gotten bored half way through. It means you’re reading a donkey instead of a stallion. But even donkeys take love and commitment to make. 6 Responses to “Things that Making Novel Writing Hard (and what you can do to help)”Leave a Reply |
I hate commas. There I’ve said it. Commas SUCK.
Thank you.
Nice to have you back in the blog saddle even if just for a moment. What an interesting post, almost a cry for help if I may be so bold.
I don’t know Lauren, if you were an athlete rather than an artist, I would tell you to stop complaining about the pain and just show me the baby. Indeed, one month to edit two chapters seems kind of self-indulgent (even if it is the horse’s guts and glue), but I am not a writer (except of countless legal briefs) and thus speak with an outsider’s unknowing perspective.
Undaunted by my own writing ignorance, I offer the following observations:
If, at the end of the day, all you have is a good premise but no plot, you’re not making a donkey or a horse.
Keep it simple stupid, all the mumbo jumbo about protagonists who find themselves ridiculous, and dark and mean first drafts, or to comma or not to comma makes it seem like you are constructing a rocket rather than a novel.
Take some pressure off and call it a book instead of a novel, as novel sound pretentious.
As a gift, to be used if all else fails, here are three plots free of charge: (i) Jack and Jill get together somehow (the result of a lunar eclipse) and create a kid, thus ensuring Cycler III; (ii) Jack and Jill join Shaggy, Scooby and the rest of the gang in solving a mystery involving the disgruntled owner of an old-time hotel and restaurant located in a run down resort town or (iii) in an effort to impress Jill and hang on to his cool status, Jack agrees to jump a shark on waterski’s in a death-defying stunt.
Finally, you might consider Sean Penn’s response when asked about the writing process he employed to complete a screenplay he had written (which was made into a pretty decent movie whose title now escapes me that featured Jack Nicholson).
Interviewer: Given the many demands on your time Mr. Penn, what writing method did you employ to complete the screenplay?
Mr. Penn: The ancient Chinese art of Ty-Ping.
So, there you have it. Returning to first principles, maybe something as simple as typing is the way to get past your impasse and knock this baby out.
If only, Rocketeer. Complexity is the lifeblood of a novel. Otherwise, they’d be really really short. The thing is, you have to ensnare your characters in all manner of unexpected nastiness then watch them triumph in ways even an astute reader would never imagine. I’m afraid there is no other way than to rewrite ad nauseum. Still, it’s fun to complain.
Justine, what do you say we stage a coup against the comma?
Here is my advise. Trust yourself. When you are at the task of writing work hard and struggle as you have been, but when you finish for the day really finish for the day. Trust that you and your characters will all get wherever it is that you are going. Trust that you will have enough time and that the ideas that haven’t presented themselves yet are all there and that they will reveal themselves when the time comes. Trust that you are creating something worth creating and worth other peoples investment of time and thought. If you can find that level of confidence and relegate the struggle and doubt to the work itself, then you will simply be a person with a good life who has a challenging job and who loves what she does (even if it is difficult). This will free you up to watch bad t.v. without guilt, blog, sleep, eat, and maybe even read other peoples novels, without the distraction of the unfinished novel getting in the way of all of that living. In short, strive to be a great writer when you are writing and just be Lauren the rest of the time.
Missile, you are wise and wonderful. I fear that I may give the impression that I am unhappy with my struggles as a writer. Truthfully, I am overjoyed that these are my struggles rather than some other struggles. But as a (sometimes) blogger, it’s fun to occasionally share the specifics of my work with people, as I enjoy reading about other people’s work and lives too. I’m curious, for example, about what keeps a dentist up at night or a hair-dresser or a rocket scientist. I guess, as a writer, it just comes natural to, like, write about these things.
Maybe in my next post, I’ll ask people to tell me what keeps them up at night.
Alas, I am addicted to commas. Do you know where I can get help?