Fire the Critic and Build a Novel

It has been nearly two weeks since I last posted on here. Last week I was on holiday and my blog is now looking rather neglected. In truth I enjoyed taking a break from writing as I noticed a lull in creativity and everything I wrote felt a bit stale. My brain needed to be recharged so I injected it with a good amount of fiction and over the past week I’ve read three books and just started on my fourth. I’ve been listening to music I haven’t heard in years, went on long coastal walks, drank lots of wine and caught up with my favourite TV shows. Now I’m feeling really inspired, refreshed with ideas and ready to write.

At the moment I am taking part in June Novel Writing Month and pushing to get that elusive first draft completed. In truth I started the novel years ago and it has already been through the mill a bit. Since then the plot has changed completely thanks to losing everything that I had initially written. It was a story I was incredibly proud of so was devastated when I lost all 15,000 words. When I went back to rewriting, I literally lost the plot and all enthusiasm for the story I was trying to tell, convinced that it would never be as good.

So instead of grappling with the beginning and getting nowhere, I jumped to halfway through the story and pleased to report so far so good. From what I’ve gathered so far is that writing a novel is all about knuckling down, making sure you are committed, dedicated and excited about the story you are telling. I haven’t meticulously planned my novel, mainly because I like getting stuck in and allow the ideas to flow and see where the story takes me.

I have chosen not to edit as I go, ignoring that annoying little voice in your head which likes to tear your work to shred before it’s even taken form. To silence the inner critic requires a lot of discipline as the temptation to go back and edit what you have done is just plain hard. However by allowing the writing to take over and abolishing the critical side from the initial creative process has allowed the story to develop into something rather interesting.  Now the novel is slowly, but surely taking form.

I read somewhere that you need to visualize your novel as a sky scraper. You need to get the foundations in first, such as the plot then add structure and reinforce with words. Once the bare bones are up and stable, you can then start making it look pretty.

So this week I will also be taking part in Friday Fictioneers. After gaining some pretty good and honest advice a few weeks ago I am looking forward to putting that to use.

Progress Update

When I started this blog I had no idea about the impact it would have on my writing. In the past I had started blogs but after a few months they were abandoned as in all honesty they had no use to me.

Write Away is in effect documenting my development as a writer. Recently I have been going back and reading stories from before I started my blog and I can see a vast difference in my writing. The style in which I write is very much the same but the plot, description and character is much richer than before. In part I believe this is down to taking part in Friday Fictioneers so that each week I am challenged to create a story inspired by a photo prompt and only using about 100 words. I have become very picky about the words I use and what it takes to develop a plot in such few words.

It has also got me used to sharing work, opening it up for critique which when you are starting out is the most terrifying thing you can do. Now I look forward to comments and any critique I receive, good or bad, really does aid my learning.

I have also immensely enjoyed reading other writers literary journeys. Some evenings I sit at the laptop and think, how on earth am I going to write today when I am dog tired.   What helps is reading that we all feel the same way and it isn’t a flaw and is completely normal and okay to have days when you are not writing.

This week I have been reading. I believe reading is so important and it is so easy to forget to read and allow life get in the way. Yesterday I read How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff, a YA novel about girl called Daisy is sent to England by her father to live with her aunt and cousins who she has never met. It was a shocking, funny and surprisingly violent book but deeply moving and touching. It has really invigorated me and I am now considering exploring that genre further.  I have also been spending my evenings copywriting for some extra money which has to take priority at the moment. It’s important for me to allow myself time to recharge my batteries in a way and if I feel completely uncreative, don’t dwell and move on to something else.

A few weeks ago I asked if anyone would kindly offer to critique some work and thank you to those who replied. I have a short story in progress, which I am not entirely pleased with at the moment so it is a very slow work in progress.

Despite the fact my short story writing has stalled a little, I am constantly writing which in my eyes is a good. Many novelists work as copywriters or journalists before publishing a novel so I’m not going to give myself a hard time for not getting any fiction finished. I know I will keep working on it and my goal this year is still to have a piece of fiction published.

Most importantly I have finally got myself a place to work! (Yes, an exclamation mark was completely necessary) I assembled a desk overlooking the valley here in Yorkshire. No doubt I will be spending hours in my little room. Wonder how long it will take before I start posting at 2am?

 

False Start, part three

Little bit added, will write more tomorrow

——-

Lucy sat down to write the letter. Her pen hovered over the white paper and she didn’t know what to say. A million words ran through her head and she had fallen asleep countless times with her life story playing out like a film. Now she had run out of time yet she still didn’t know how to explain what she was about to do.

False Start – With back story

This is where I usually come undone, the back story!

—–

Lucy sat down to write the letter. Her pen hovered over the white paper and she didn’t know what to say. A million words ran through her head and she had fallen asleep countless times with her life story playing out like a film. Now she had run out of time yet she still didn’t know how to explain what she was about to do.

Standing up, Lucy stared at the girl looking back at her in the mirror. The white chiffon dress was a perfect fit with a beautiful diamante bodice which accentuated her modest bosom. Simple and elegant, Lucy knew it was the one the moment she saw it in the window of the shop.  But the dress also made her sad. It was a costume that masked who she was and the life she secretly yearned for. With nowhere to go and no words to write, Lucy waited. Her father eventually came through the door to the bedroom of her childhood home, smiling broadly and looking proud. Holding his arm, Lucy longed to tell him how desperate and unsure she felt. Instead she smiled back, kissed him on the cheek and allowed him to lead her to the church.

Lucy met Ben when she was 19. They were first year students at university both studying Modern History. It was a traditional blind date arranged by friends after Lucy insisted she wanted to stay single and concentrate on her education. They first locked eyes outside Bar Riza, she was wearing light denim jeans with a red jumper and him a green parker with baggy jeans. To the naked eye there was nothing particularly special about either of them but Lucy knew it would be a moment she would remember forever. Ben was a character, popular, chatty and loud. He was also warm, kind and referred to Lucy as the yin to his yang. She loved how his eyes twinkled cheekily when he talked and that he seemed to animate his witty anecdotes using his whole body.

There was no doubt about it, she fell for Ben hard and fast. Months passed in a minute and hours of kissing were gone in the blink of an eye. They were the couple everyone wanted to be, always the last to leave the restaurant without touching their 2-for-1 pizza meal and when they weren’t in lectures they were in bed. Lucy loved his spontaneous nature and listened with awe as he spoke about his adventures in South America, Africa, Thailand, Australia and India. She had always wanted to travel but her longest flight so far stood at two hours and thirteen minutes to Costa del Sol. Instead of text books and anthologies, Lucy’s shelves in her room were filled with travel literature and editions of National Geographic. There were no posters of Jim Morrison or Che Guevara decorating her wall. Instead there were images of the Himilayas, European street scenes and long sandy beaches. Rather than studying, she preferred to see the world from her arm chair and dream about her great escape. One evening after a bottle of red wine Ben suggested they take a trip to Rome. After a couple of months of passion-fuelled dating the thought of spending a few days with Ben in the city of love made her stomach somersault. Not only could this be the most romantic trip of her life but it would be the adventure that she so desperately needed.

Friday Flash – In His Head

There was no doubt in his mind that he would see her again. The way she stared at him with her glasses sat on the end of her nose, crossing her perfect long legs as she leaned back in the duck-egg coloured arm chair. He knew that she wanted him.

“Tell me why you’re here, Daniel” she asked softly with pursed, pink lips, tucking a section of her long fringe behind her ear.

“You know why I’m here” he replied. Sighing, she leaned towards the coffee table separating them and slowly poured herself a glass of water.

“As I said last time, I need you to tell me. It’s important.” The still glass of tepid water remained on the table as Daniel waited for her to take a sip.

Daniel smiled and held her gaze, how he wished he could take her right there on the coffee table. Minutes passed as they sat in silence, the woman resting her clasped hands on her lap, the grandfather clock breaking the silence with it’s heavy tick-tock.

The woman looked at her wrist. “Okay Daniel, it’s 4.30pm. Time is up.”

Daniel stood up at the same time as the woman. At 6ft 5 he towered over her, she felt a little intimidated but never let it show. As they moved towards the door he leaned in to kiss her porcelain cheek. Pushing him away with the palm of her hand on his chest “No Daniel. Do that again and you won’t be able to come here anymore.”

“Sorry Susan,” he replied sheepishly.

“Okay Daniel now see you next week, same time again. Remember, for now I would prefer if you called me Dr Bateman”

She held the door open and he walked out into the waiting room, looking back at the door as she shut it slowly.