Wednesday, September 24, 2008

The Writing Process: Purity of Heart

Is this off topic? You might say it is, but then, if we are to write the best we can, then surely a pure heart is a necessity. At least, if what we wish to produce is to speak to others, warm them and inspire them, then we have to move beyond the voices in our head that censor us and limit us. We also have to toss aside our prejudices and our preconceived ideas about others, so that we can get to the root of what really matters in the world. We need to find our deepest connection with the world, our love of humanity, and let our creation grow from that connection, that empathy.

In articles 3 and 4 I emphasised repeatedly this need for empathy and courage. In the light of the recent attacks on America, I have chosen to publish this article, taken from a press release of N.D. Walsches, which will again stress the need to live in a state of love.

This need to live in a state of love is necessary for living a good life, but also, in my opinion at least, the spring board for creative writing that is worth sharing with others. Love breeds respect and honesty. In order to write your best you need to feel that love, of self if nothing else. Writing is inevitably going to confront us with our demons, is always going to ask us to rise to the challenge of securing our honesty and purity. There is no way to avoid this. The very second you lose this connection with self, it will scream back at you from the page in the form of mediocre, emotionless, bland writing.

Without this sense of purity, we will write irresponsibly, and the joy that creativity ought to give us, will be hard to find.

Neal Donald Walsches words, applied to the recent American tragedy in this case, apply to all facets of our lives, and especially our creative lives. Forgive my divergence, and in the next articles I will return to a more defined approach.

"If we could love even those who have attacked us, and seek to understand why they have done so, what then would be our response? Yet if we meet negativity with negativity, rage with rage, attack with attack, what then will be the outcome? These are the questions that are placed before the human race today. They are questions that we have failed to answer for thousands of years. Failure to answer them now could eliminate the need to answer them at all. We should make no mistake about this. The human race has the power to annihilate itself. We can end life as we know it on this planet in one afternoon. This is the first time in human history that we have been able to say this. And so now we must direct our attention to the questions that such power places before us. And we must answer these questions from a spiritual perspective, not a political perspective, and not a economic perspective. We must have our conversation with God, for only the grandest wisdom and the grandest truth can address the greatest problems and the greatest challenges in the history of our species. It is not as if we have not seen this coming. Every spiritual, political, and philosophical writer of the past 50 years has predicted it. So long as we continue to treat each other as we have done on this planet, the circumstance that we face on this day will continue to present itself. The difference is that now our technology makes our anger much more dangerous. In the early days of our civilization, we were able to inflict hurt upon each other using sticks and rocks and primitive weapons. Then, as our technology grew, it became possible for clans to war against clans, ultimately, for nations to war against nations. But even then, until most recent times, it was not possible for us to annihilate each other completely. We could destroy a village, or a town, or a major city, or even an entire nation, but only now is it possible for us to destroy our whole world so fast nothing can stop it once the process has begun. That is what makes this point in our history different from any other. And that is what makes this call for each of us to have our own conversation with God so appropriate and important."

The Writing Process: Plotting

The plot is the beating heart of a novel. And despite character outlines and being aware of the conflicts and motivations of those characters, it can be as complicated and as delicate as open heart surgery to get the heart beating. One beat is not enough. The heart has to find its rhythm, and its continuity. The plot must be steady, reliable, strong enough to guide you through the writing process until it is completed.

I think the element that comes to mind here is courage. Courage to follow the voices in your head that tell you what your characters need or want to do in order to resolve or work out the elements of conflict that drive the novel forward. Courage, too, to say whatever needs to be said. Is this confusing? If someone had said this to me before I had written a novel myself I might not have understood it. But, believe me, to write the novel you will need courage.

The moment you start to write the plot, many conflicting voices will start to sound in your head. There’s the voice telling you that your idea is unrealistic. There’s another telling you it’s silly, superficial, unnecessary, boring. There’s yet another telling you that you’re not the one to write this novel. And another one, maybe the most powerful, telling you to quit having delusions of grandeur and to go back to your mundane existence. These are the voices of your fear and your resistance. These are the voices that will prevent many from ever putting pen to paper. These are the voices of your imagined, external world, a critical, unfriendly world.

These are not reality. They are just your imagination. And, in order to overcome them, you must make the decision that you are writing this book for yourself, in the first instance, and for a wider public, maybe. This book is for you; this is your growth, your development. This book is your way of making sense of the experiences you have and the events you have seen, and the people who have crossed your path.

So, if fear and embarrassment and a feeling of inadequacy prevent your literary heart from beating, then a certain selfishness, and a need to make sense of your world, and moreover an acceptance that you are writing initially for yourself, should be the jolt it needs to start it up.

You will be surprised, but even at the plotting stage you will feel the momentum gather, and the story take shape, once you have overcome this initial, paralysing fear. You know your characters, and what you want them to overcome and achieve. You also know, have decided where these conflicts take place, in terms of geography, history, and society. And once you blend these elements into a story, secondary characters, events, new conflicts needing to be resolved, will present themselves.

At this stage the plot can be written into a synopsis. How long a synopsis is, is purely personal. I prefer to keep a synopsis short, letting the secondary characters present themselves. I then return to my character sketches and write a rough outline of those characters to add to my initial sketches.

In the case of The Cloths of Heaven, when I had written about one A4 for the plot, I had added mothers, fathers, friends, etc to my three main characters. What also came to light at this point was my need to literally draw a map of a fictitious street in Limerick City, which was to be the common setting for the entire book. This street was the base for everything that happened in the book. The characters might move on, but the link, the core, would be this one street. I called it James’ Street, and set about drawing the map. I needed it to incorporate a Church, a shop, a pub, and schools. I also wanted it to be close the banks of the River Shannon, and yet not too far away from the city centre. And more importantly, it had to cease to exist once my story was completed. So it had to be an area that would be included in any inner city development plans which were taking place in Limerick at that time. I wanted these people to come together, create something together, deal with issues together, and once they had moved on, I wanted even the evidence that they had ever been together, to be no more than a story. I wanted the entire novel to have a mythological quality, to emphasise the very Irishness of it.

I drew the map, placed Michael at the Church, Sheila in one of the terraced houses with her mother and father, and decided that Maud would live in a caravan with her mother, who, with her gypsy-like wildness, might just become a more important character than even I had planned. Maud’s mother, Kitty, might just be the electricity that would keep this novel alive.

Being methodical and needing clarity, the next stage for me has to be the chapter breakdown. Not all writers need this much preparation – D.H. Lawrence preferred to let the book take him on a journey of discovery so he did very little preparation. John Irving and Minette Walters do a lot of research and planning. I fall somewhere in the middle. But I need a chapter breakdown if only to see if there’s enough muscle to the plot

The Writing Process: Characterisation

The process has just begun. Having gathered together the pieces that will form the backbone to the story, several things have to happen before these ideas can grow into a novel.

I have my main characters and I have established their motivations. I know the time and place in history in which I want the story to take place, and I am aware that I need conflict to drive my characters. But that is not a novel.

I will, at this stage, write a very brief outline. I wouldn’t even call it a synopsis, but rather a gathering of the elements I have established. It can be no more than a couple of sentences, something to kick start me into ‘living the novel’, of getting that mental film up and running.

At this point, almost at the very beginning of a novel, it is imperative to have patience. Let your mind dwell on the elements you have, without forcing their growth. It is not necessary at this stage to write CHAPTER 1 and to dive in. What is necessary is to think about the characters, know how old they are, what colour hair they have. Are they tall, short? Can you base them on anyone you know? And also, and this is more important than you might initially think – what are their names?

I like to write a character sketch for my main characters, at least an A4 per character. Knowing the character, finding his foibles and passions, will help fatten out the plot too. Also, and this is a pivotal point for me, each of the characters has to illustrate some particular trait, and that trait must be emphasised. Although in real life, a person may display many facets, if we were to have fictional characters incorporating too many traits, it will make the story confusing, and believe it or not, unbelievable. Readers need, to a certain extent, to rely on a character behaving consistently. More so than we see in real life.

I will state though it might sound clich鬠that it is imperative to relate to the main characters. I might want to step into the shoes of the one I have chosen to be the narrator, and this is all too easy to do, but if the novel is to be credible, then I must feel the same rapport with the others. In the case of The Cloths of Heaven, I had to feel Maud and Michael (the priest) just as strongly as I felt Sheila (my narrator with CP). And this is where the advantage of limiting the character traits per character comes in. I could find aspects of my own character, and times in life when I had been in conflict either with myself, or my environment, remember how it felt to be in that place in time. I can remember sadness, I can remember anger, and I can remember frustration. I can also remember sheer joy, contentment, feeling a sense of achievement. And they all feel different. So even if one of my characters is less likeable than the others, or is farther removed from my own set of values, I can plug into the sensation by using my own life experiences. And for me, being able to plug in to ALL characters is a must. At no stage in a novel do I want the reader to detect that I might be TAKING SIDES in any issue that might arise. I am a chronicler; it is not my intention to become a didactic.

I recently read House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III. A magnificent novel displaying great literary skill. But more than that, it is a perfect example of the point I am making above. Andre Dubus III makes it even more complicated by using not one, but two narrators, alternating chapter by chapter from an unstable female to a dogmatic, disagreeable Iranian husband and father. Dubus speaks through both characters with equal conviction. But what he also does, and this to me shows his craft, he illustrates each one’s flaws and weaknesses and less palatable traits, by what each says himself! This gives the reader complete freedom to form his own opinion about each character. Not once in the entire novel do we hear a whisper of Dubus himself. Never do we feel nudged in a particular direction. We never find out what Dubus himself thought of the actions of his characters. And that, to my mind, is a feat of genius, and characterisation.

In The Cloths of Heaven, I had only one narrator and two other main characters but the impartiality (or complete partiality) that Dubus illustrates was no less important. I had to like all the characters. I to find an empathy that would endure, whatever the plot had them do. That is why I choose to establish the characters, and acquaint myself with them BEFORE I know exactly where the plot is going.

It is possible however, to have a character with a particular trait grow and develop and become more than we would have initially expected. (And this is where plotting comes in). Through the conflicts he endures he might be changed, either for the better or the worse, but he cannot JUST change in order to fit the plot – then the plot has not been properly thought out. A good example of this type of development is Scrooge, from Dickens’ Christmas Carol. He is enticed into becoming more giving and generous by the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, that he has seen. His changes, though a surprise to the other characters in the book, are not unexpected to the readers.

And if the characters are the arms and legs, then the plot is the beating heart of a novel.

The Writing Process: On Inspiration?

So there it was. My ideas were as good as anyone else’s, and it was OK for my inspiration to shoot out of everyday, dare I say, mundane events. And once that notion took root, it was as though the universe decided to work with me. Events came together; information reached me through gossip, television, chats over dinner, and an anthology of poetry.

I should count myself blessed to be Irish, even though I haven’t lived there for over sixteen years. Ireland is the land of storytellers. There is an atmosphere in Ireland that is found nowhere else I’ve been. The air trills with a suppressed passion. And because of the restraints of the church there is always the hint that one day people will stand up and scream that they are going to break free, and hang the consequences. I feel it immediately I step off the plane, and time and again I feel driven to write about it.

After a four-year absence, I decided to go home to Ireland and spend some time with my family, especially my brother, who has CP. Since his birth I have felt a special bond with him; at times I think I can feel what he feels. And on this occasion, I felt his frustration and his longing to be heard, to be understood and moreover, to be taken seriously. That was my motivation – to give him a voice. And I wanted that voice to be heard, and to capture the hearts’ of eventual readers, and the only way to do that was to wrap his existence into a page turning piece of fiction. That was the driving force behind this novel.

But knowing that I wanted to give my brother a voice, and knowing that the best way to do that was through fiction, was not a plot, was not a story. But it was a great motivator. It was the reason my mind ‘tuned in’ to my surroundings. All I had to do have faith and trust that the snippets of information I picked up would, if given the chance, fit together like a jig zaw puzzle. As it happens I didn’t have to wait long for the first thread of a plot to present itself.

We were sitting around the dinner table one evening chatting, and the topic that was on the tip of everyone’s tongue was the recent scandal involving the Catholic Church, in particular the less than honourable behaviour displayed by some priests. I was all ears. The butterflies in my stomach told me that this would be an important element in my plot development.

But there needed to be more. I needed a protagonist, someone to link the disabled and the able worlds. I wanted a totally contrasting figure to the narrator, someone to link all the characters, someone large and exciting enough to carry the desires and dreams of the disabled narrator. And at that moment, I was given a copy of Yeats’ poetry anthology, with a short bio, wherein Maud Gonne was introduced.

Maud Gonne - who was the inspiration for the exquisite love poem – He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven. Immediately, I had a name for this protagonist, and a title for the book.

The Cloths of Heaven was taking shape. The sources of inspiration were normal and nothing spectacular of themselves. They did not come to me in a vision (though if this happens, great!). I did not have to visit an exotic location, or be exposed to extraordinary events. I was inspired, because I believed that EVERYTHING is potentially inspiring. My source of inspiration and the method I employ to use what happens around me, is unique to me, just as Anne Rice and Maeve Binchy each has her own source and method.

Okay, the inspiration was there. I had three characters, the pivot to the plot. I had the situation, and the environment, and I had the setting. Remembering what I had learned from reading How-to books on writing. I decided I wanted a character-based book, letting their psychological development steer the plot. I knew too, that for a book to come to life there is one element that cannot be omitted – the element of conflict. But there are several types of conflict. Inner conflict. Conflict between individuals. But, there is also the universal conflict of man against his surroundings. I was determined to incorporate all three.

And that would be the arms and legs, and the beating heart of this story.

The Writing Process: Digging Deep

In the previous article I took the liberty of using the words of N.D. Walsch to take a slightly off topic step. In this one I am back on track.

In article 4 I talked about plotting and touched briefly on the concept of the chapter breakdown - for me this is an important step in the process.

It’s all too easy to want to hasten the process and just get on with the actual novel, and I am sure there are plenty of novelists who are capable of doing so, but I would strongly recommend that a novice novelist take the time to do a chapter breakdown. The chapter breakdown will serve more than one purpose. Not only will it give more clarity to your initial inspiration, but it will also be a valuable aid in letting your characters evolve. And even more importantly, by going through the mechanics of a chapter breakdown, you will be able to see if there’s enough ‘meat on the bones’ of your plot. If at this stage the plot cannot be padded out into about fifteen chapters, then there’s not enough story to grow into a novel.

Given that you do have a fifteen-chapter story, then the breakdown will be an invaluable aid in your writing of the novel-in-progress. On those dull days when you feel overwhelmed by this project the chapter breakdown will do just that – break it down into manageable parts. It will also be your guide, and keep your mind clear and your thoughts directed. It will serve as a map and hold your focus. If you have chosen a less traditional novel form, one without the constraints of chronology, geography or historical context, then using the chapter breakdown will be your structure. I don’t know whether Michael Ondaatje used a chapter breakdown when writing "The English Patient," but I do know that were I to write such a complex novel, then I would definitely take the time to map out the story in this form.

There are novelists who shy away from a chapter breakdown, believing it will take the spontaneity out of their writing, and prevent the plot from developing and the characters to unfold naturally. And certainly I would agree with this opinion, if you choose to stick to the initial chapter breakdown as though it was written in blood. But if you give yourself the freedom to change and adapt, or swap chapters around, or re-write a whole section, then no, this need not be the case. Then the advantages then outweigh the disadvantages.

And now, with the chapter breakdown completed the first hurdle to your novel presents itself in the form of the OPENING SENTENCE. I have a rather simplistic solution to this – just write whatever comes into your head in order to get the story going. You can always change it at a later stage, even when the first draft is completed. At that stage the story will have grown into its own style and tone and chances are that even if you’d struggled for weeks on that elusive first sentence, you’d want to change it now, anyway! So spare yourself the headache.

I mentioned the word momentum earlier in the article. Now that you’ve written that first word, put that first, virgin idea onto paper (or your word processor), make an appointment with yourself in the same way you would with a colleague, friend or family member, that you will sit in your writing chair at a certain time every day or week. Inspired or not, you will write something. By making this appointment you are creating momentum.

Eventually writing will become as much a part of your daily routine as brushing your teeth. The novel will inhabit your thoughts. The plot will unfold; the characters will talk to you. The novel will live, become real, tangible almost. And who cares if you fail to get it word perfect first time. Just go with the flow. Enjoy the ride. Remember that this is a first draft, and it can always be adapted and improved. A blank page is just a blank page!

When you reach a point where you miss the writing if you break that appointment, when you feel restless when not writing, when you don’t break that appointment because ‘something else’ comes up, you know you are a true writer. You know you have committed to this project.

And on those days when, despite your dedication you sit in your writing chair, and the characters do not speak to you, then do as Ann Lamott suggests in her inspirational writing guide “Bird by Bird” and take a pen and a note pad and write. Journalise, scribble, write the first thing that comes into your head. Just write. And don’t stop until you’ve written 300 words.

This is mental aerobics. And it works for several reasons, some of which will be dealt with in subsequent articles.

The Writing Process: Mental aerobics

Sportsmen and women will all tell you that when they are exercising, there comes a moment when a new level of consciousness kicks in. A moment when that voice inside their head stops telling them to give up, that they cannot go on a moment longer, or worse still, that they never should have started in the first place. When that moment comes the body and mind unite and they develop a rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. Their breathing settles, and there is no doubt in their mind that they will reach that finish line, or see the clock hit the top of the hour, or that they will keep pumping till the music stops.

With writing it’s the same process. As was mentioned in previous articles, the hardest part about writing is learning to override those voices in you head that tell you to stop. The voices of ridicule that make you feel like an impostor. The voices of criticism that belittle your efforts, laugh at your plots and characters, and in short suggest, not too gently that you ‘get real’ and leave the writing to those with talent.

What’s needed here is mental aerobics. And that’s where a journal comes in handy. Keeping a journal will help you still those voices. It will bring you to that moment of unity, when hand and mind and inspiration harmonise.

The moment before harmony is attained, you will, just like an athlete, have a moment of excruciating anguish, and that is the moment of truth. By journalising, you bring to the surface your insecurities, mistaken beliefs and prejudices about yourself, that you internalised and that have become your (de)motivators. Write them down; read them over and over again until they lose their power over you. Then write some new ones, ones that are in tune with your desire to write. These are all you need, for it is my belief that if you have a desire to write, then you will also find the talent to do it. Take your desire seriously – it is there for a reason. And remember, if you listen to the (de) motivators, then you will become one of those people who say ‘if only’ in the future and hang your head in disappointment. If you get beyond the voice of the (de) motivator and write that novel, or short story, or poem, then you will carry a sense of achievement with you for the rest of your life. You will be that marathon runner whose feet have crossed the finish line.

The only regrets in this life are for things NOT done.

Feel free to compare yourself to famous people, those you see fulfilling their dreams and daring to stand in the limelight. Catch a serious dose of hero worship and wallow in it. Take your favourite person (who doesn’t have to be a writer) and decide just what characteristics in them it is you admire so much. Then realise that you have those characteristics too. What you see in the other person, is often a reflection of what you have but have not yet owned or internalised. Remember that you have been filled with all those other ‘unproductive’ ideas and there has been no room for self-admiration. So, with the journal you have cleared the decks, so to speak. You have literally had a spring clean, and now you can start building some new ideas.

My favourite people are usually pop stars, and I have been laughed at or ridiculed for having the audacity or the stupidity to mention my own name in the same sentence as theirs (more of the voices that will paralyse when left to fester). My heroes were Sting, James Hetfield (of Metallica fame) and Freddie Mercury. And when I investigated my admiration, the common denominator was their courage. All three were prepared to break the mould in their chosen field and in their upbringing. Sting, initially associated with the Punk movement, dared to be intelligent. James Hetfield, a thrash metal guitarist and singer, displayed a tender, emotional side to his character, and wrote ‘meaningful’ lyrics. Freddie Mercury, of Persian descent, and brought up in a strict, religious environment, had the courage to be flamboyant, gay and utterly ‘over the top’. I wanted some of their audacity, their tenacity, and their courage.

But more than this, by identifying with these heroes, and by humanising them, my own ambitions to become a novelist did not seem so ridiculous any more. We are all born naked, and have to learn to make our way in the world. ALL of us, without exception eat and sleep and laugh and cry.

So, my becoming a novelist is no more ridiculous than Sting becoming a performer. All I need is the same determination. All I must do is switch off those voices in my head.

The Writing Process: Sensuality

This article will be more difficult for me to write than were the other articles. This article will consider the aspect that I myself have had the most difficulty in understanding. The mechanisms I will try to describe here are ones that require strength of spirit to come to terms with. Dealing with these mechanisms and digging even deeper in the search for your best creative self demands that you take on board all aspects of your emotional self. Also, when you have read this article and absorbed what I have attempted to say, then please do add your own opinions on this process. If I have left out anything significant or if I have said something that you do not agree with, then please say so. In this area, I don’t think we are ever done learning and improving and growing as creative beings.

Writing is a sensual activity. It engages the higher senses - the five basic emotions: joy, sorrow, anger, fear, and sexual feeling. In order to write the best we can, we must face ALL of these emotions. In our society, mistakenly, we have labelled some emotions ‘good’ and others ‘bad’. We are prepared to admit to the ‘good’ emotions but spend a lot of time and energy denying the 'bad’, resulting in poor writing, non-authentic writing, or worse still, in writer’s block.

The usually accepted ‘good’ emotions are joy, sexual feelings (sometimes) and sorrow (though this must be borne stoically). The bad feelings are anger, fear, and again sexual feelings (when judged to be inappropriate). But unless we own all of these we can hardly be expected to create three dimensional, believable characters or to empathise. We cannot put them into conflict situations that test their strengths and their weaknesses.

But more importantly, if we are in the business of denial, it will seep into our work, and have the same paralysing effect as those other, internalised voices that live in our head. Paradoxically, if we were not ‘emotional’ ‘sensual’ people, we would probably not even have the urge to write fiction. We would not be curious enough, or restless enough, or passionate enough. Living in denial would wear us out.

Consider this: it is the spirit fighting to break through the conscious denial that drives us to become writers. It is the need to peel away layer after protective layer of non-authentic behaviour and the hunger for the truth that motivates us to put pen to paper. It is the unwillingness to accept that ‘this is all there is’ that awakens our curiosity and passion.

Yet, if we are unaware of this process and imagine ourselves to be able to write meaningful fiction while living superficially, the anger, fear, and all the other ‘bad’ feelings will creep into the writing, making it heavy and laborious. And as long as we are unable to own those feelings, as long as we fail to recognise them as part of ourselves, then we cannot contain them. We will not be able to take a step back from them, dilute them if necessary, and reproduce them in an appropriate manner; one that enhances instead of diminishes the quality of the writing.

A friend of mine once said to me, after reading The Cloths of Heaven, that I failed to have Sheila say a ‘proper’ goodbye on any of the occasions when she had to leave her family, and that I had the tendency to have people die a lot. She also said that by not having proper ‘goodbyes’ – even those who died did so alone – I missed out on an opportunity to empathise with the sad and lonely. Yet because I was not empathising with the bereaved, I, almost obsessively, repeatedly gave myself an opportunity to do so. She also pointed out that I, in my own life, had been forced to say ‘goodbye’ more often than I would have liked. In her opinion, I tended to be hard on myself in those situations, and not allow myself to experience real grief and loneliness. Obviously I needed to recognise this aspect of my own life so that I could learn to say goodbye appropriately, and my spirit, through my writing, was telling me so. But, as I had not yet owned it, I was not able to deal with it adequately in my writing. She said it stuck out like a sore thumb because it lacked authenticity. It was hard to take this on board, but I did. Then I was able to return to The Cloths of Heaven, and recognise how hard it must have been for Sheila to constantly have to say ‘goodbye’ and how distraught she would have been when those she loved died. I was then able to write about these feelings in a way that engaged the reader and kept them bound to the story.

In my case I had trouble with grief, and my writing gave me the opportunity to come to terms with it.

More commonly, anger is seen as the least attractive emotion to own. I think that anger, when not owned and out of control, creates the type of fiction that slaps you in the face. When anger is owned it can be the driver for courage, and acts of bravery and valour. When denied and overly controlled it creates depressive, lethargic fiction.

But in order for anger to be used effectively in fiction it has to be an emotion that you are familiar with not one that engulfs you, and enslaves you. Anger needs to be worked out, outside of your fiction, so that when you need it in your stories, you are in charge of it, and not the other way around.

Anger can be worked out in journals, in letters written (not necessarily dispatched), and more physically through sport. You can also retreat to a private place and pummel a pillow, or bury your head in it and just yell! Just feel it! Go through it, overcome your trepidation and be angry. Experience its rise and its subsequent fall and in the process master it.

The last emotion we need to face is fear. The previous article about the voices in our head that need to be stilled is where our fear comes from. Fear comes in many forms, and all of them stem from what others have told us about the world, and about ourselves. We fear rejection, criticism, and ridicule. All of these things come from others. If we learn to accept ourselves (sometimes called self-love) then we have nothing to fear. Only when we do not accept ourselves and are dependent on the approval of others, is there room for fear to creep in.

As a supplement to this article I would recommend you read Debbie Ford – The Dark Side of the Light Chasers. This non fiction work talks about denied emotions, not-owned emotions and the various mechanisms the human psyche has created in order to bring these to the surface.

The Writing Process: More emotion and motivation

I just love how this whole topic is developing! It has become a deeper, more spiritual approach to the whole writing process. And all of you who are following it are spurring me on with your discussions and comments.
In the last article I brought up the subject of emotions, which led to a discussion on 'love', which I had not specifically mentioned in my list of basic emotions. That is because I see love as a verb rather than an emotion. 'Love' is something we do, and it is the result of needing to fulfill an emotion. It can be driven by fear, need for sex, joy, or a combination of any of the five emotions. I think when writing, this is a very important distinction to make. Also, love in any of its forms, will appear in a piece of writing - always if we consider that this is usually the underlying motivation of the characters. They will either be driven by their need to gain love and approval, or they will be motivated by the need to pamper themselves (self love).

The opposite of love, would be hate, you imagine. Well, consider this. The opposite of love, or absense of love is fear.

Those who seek love in order to banish fear, are responding to their need to eradicate the fear rather than their desire to give love (love as a verb or an action). The love so gained is transitory, and weak and not everlasting and pure.

And, in my own humble opinion, these themes can be traced to the fundament of any story. These are the most basic motivators. Here we find the internal conflicts within each individual. Here we find the reasons why characters act in a particular way. More importantly, here we find the way of emphathising with our characters.

Even if we choose to write about an axe murderer or a child abuser, or allow one to appear in our story, if we can find his fear, his absence of love, then we can stir up some compassion and give ourselves permission to write him or her without being blocked by prejudice or hate.

In The Cloths of Heaven, I have included characters whose behaviour is socially unacceptable, immoral, but I have moved beyond my own personal opinion of their behaviour and dug into their 'souls' and found their motivator. Then, though I do not condone their actions, I can continue to 'write' them and experience them as whole human beings, caught up in their own inner conflict.

I recognise their search for love. I recognise their need to diminish fear.

A wonderful example of this ability to empathise with a distasteful character can be found in Nabokov's 'Lolita'. Here, Nabokov creeps into the skin of a pedofile and manages to humanise him. Somehow, Nabokov has moved beyond the act of abuse and the abuser, and written, with wonderful skill I might add, this man's story of survival and need and loneliness. At times Humbert, the main character, can be pitied. It is not the abuse that is emphasised, but the loneliness and fear and insecurity that have caused it.

I have emphasised here the need to move beyond personal prejudice or pre-conceived notions when dealing with fictional characters. I have deliberately used distasteful examples because I do believe that only when we can connect with the negative as well as the positive can we truly write brilliant fiction. When we ourselves allow fear to censor us (remember those voices in our own heads) then what we write will be weak, two dimensional, and unappealing to a reader.

The Writing Process: Doing the Work

By doing the work, I mean now physically getting on with putting the words onto paper, or into a document on your word processor.

We have discussed motivation, emotion (our own and the characters), we have recognised the voices in our head, criticising us, and hindering our progress. We have also looked at plot, chapter breakdown, opening sentences, characterization and a host of other aspects of the writing process.

Before I delve deeper into the less concrete aspects of writing, I feel the time is ripe to 'get mechanical'. And by that I mean, simply, the actual process of writing itself.

Take yourself seriously. Without this key commitment, very little in the way of novel progression is likely to happen. Having cleared the way emotionally, and having recognized your own talent, and inspiration, your next commitment is to your writing time.

Whether you feel connected to your higher inspiration or not, whether you feel you could look Dickens in the eye or not, whether you can envision yourself writing the magic words 'The End' or not, you will still have to WRITE.

Make a simple promise to yourself to sit at your desk, switch on the computer, or pick up a pen, and write. Word follows word, sentence follows sentence, and paragraph follows paragraph. And that's the truth. There is no other way.

It is not enough to live in the future and keep telling yourself and those around you that you have a brilliant idea, and that one day, when you have the time, you might write that novel. Today is yesterday's future, and tomorrow's past. So today is the day. Finding the time is your gift to yourself. Finding the time is proving to yourself that you know how to prioritize and categorize and choose. Today you will, instead of switching on your TV, write.

Write even when you don't feel inspired and take refuge in all the tricks and tools we have discussed in earlier articles.

At this stage of your process, the quality takes a back seat to consistency. And by consistency I mean, becoming the kind of writer you can rely on - one that writes!

Learning to be a writer is no different from learning to play the piano. It is no different from deciding to sport on a regular basis. It all takes practice and it takes the commitment to building new habits. Healthy habits.

The Writing Process: Turning Point

Article 11 – Turning Point
The ‘writing’ habit has formed. We still the unwanted voices in our head with journalising; we have our synopsis, character sketches, chapter breakdown; we plan our writing day into our diary, just like any other appointments. On a therapeutic level, we are recognising our own driving emotions, and those that get in our way, and we are dealing with them. As writers our empathic capabilities are growing, and our characters are deepening, their motivations becoming more complex, and yet paradoxically more logical.

Before long we will have reached the middle of the novel, and BLANK, it all dries up. The next chapter just doesn’t make sense any more. It is at this point, (for me at around chapter 3 or 4) that many writers will, after struggling and failing to write that next chapter, just toss the unfinished manuscript aside. Others will by some feat of willpower, manage to write the next chapter, as laid out in their chapter breakdown, and continue writing this novel, but with an ever diminishing sense of achievement, only to finish the novel, knowing that it is only mediocre. It has turned out to be a much blander story than that original, brilliant vision. The characters, initially so full of potential have faded into two dimensional banality, carrying out their assigned tasks with little vitality or originality.

What has happened? Quite simply, at a point in the novel where the characters are on the verge of truly coming to life, the writer has imposed his will upon these unfolding individuals, and denied them their authenticity. The writer, afraid himself of taking the plunge, chooses to box his characters in and try to tame them. These futile attempts will either kill the story, or make it at the very least superficial. The characters will lose their credibility. Because we as writers hold on to the belief that we are in charge and that the characters, invented by us, brought to life by us, can do only that which we tell them to do, we rob ourselves of the greatest gift of all. We rob ourselves of an opportunity to truly create.

Despite journalising and owning our emotions we can still sabotage our writing. By not wholly believing in the organic growth process that our writing can go through we will never move on from the mediocre to the original and maybe even genial.

A truly wonderful writer, one that inspires and touches his reader, must first trust the power of creation. He must, figuratively, hold the pen in his hand and let the muse take over.

So there you are, at chapter three, your literary crossroads. Whether you are truly conscious of it or not, three choices await you. Do you give in to the despair and the frustration and just quit? Do you, ignoring all the previous steps, force your will upon the story and the characters, and mechanically ‘get this story over and done with’? Or do you take a huge leap of faith, and accept the greatest gift that writing can offer you and allow your characters to come to life?

When I was finally able to go for the last of these, it was as if all the lights went on. Being able to let go of my original notions of who my characters were, and how they would react in any given situation, was exhilarating. What had until then been an unnameable driver in my writing, now became clear. I too wanted and needed to learn more about human nature. I too wanted and needed to understand behaviour. My initial driver – my need to tell others what I had already discovered – was now strengthened by my desire to take the journey with my reader.

But as I discussed in detail in my other articles, I am not going to be able to ‘let go’ and enjoy the characters I have created unless I have owned the wide spectrum of emotions that make up my own personality, unless I am comfortable with these emotions. My fear will prevent me.

You might think that this is all far removed from what we think are the difficulties and challenges we will encounter when we choose to write, but I truly believe that great writing comes, not from knowing the grammatical constructions, and having the vocabulary to tell a story. For me, great writing comes from the heart, the soul even.

Fiction cannot exist without ‘characterisation’. Not true you might think, but have you ever read a book where there is no characterisation? Great writing dares to take the plunge into the depths of human nature. Or as in Watership Down or Animal Farm, into the depths of animal nature. And I am sure there are stories with inanimate objects as focal point. But they are still driven by characterisation. We either use people in our stories, or we assign human characteristics to whatever we choose as focal point in our fiction.

The only course of action, when you reach this ‘turning point’ in your story, is to be patient and courageous. Continue to dig deep into your own emotional makeup using the tools we mentioned in earlier articles. Now it is more important to wait for the truth of the character to emerge, rather than forcing it to fit into a preconceived mould.

It is not the plot that is in danger at this stage. It is not even the closing sentence or the concluding scene. It is how you get there. And the first hurdle (or opportunity for new vision) to getting there is whether or not you allow your characters to truly come to life.

Don’t now jump in and try to rewrite all the subsequent chapters in the light of your new discoveries. Choose now to ‘go with the flow’ for a couple of chapters. Use them as a ‘loose’ guideline, but enjoy the journey. Enjoy the discovery.

The Writing Process: The Journey

By now you’ve moved on from the struggle of those early chapters and bravely allowed yourself to be taken on the writing journey. Your synopsis, and your original novel idea, as well as your carefully constructed chapter summary and breakdown, though still generally relevant, have had to move over and take second place to something else. You, too, have had to realise that if this novel, this piece of fiction is going to have any relevance and significance, that you will have to open your mind and your heart to the voices of the characters that you initially created and named. To build on the metaphores of the earlier articles, the embryo, has grown into a living being, and even before it is born, is beginning to show signs of individuality. Any pregnant woman will tell you how unpredictable the baby she is carrying is. That baby kicks when it chooses, turns when it chooses, causes discomfort when it chooses. More than that, it will not be dictated to, or be forced into doing what it doesn’t want. How many times did I want my baby to kick for the benefit of an enthusiastic observer? How often did I, and my companion, stare in vain at my protruding stomach, waiting for a sign of life? Even prenatal, the baby had a mind of its own.

And so it is with this novel you are writing. Having decided that the characters have minds of their own, and motivations that are deeper than you initially expected, you cannot force them to act or speak in ways that just don’t suit. And the beauty of it all is, that once you truly accept this, and surrender to the characters you named and put onto paper, the deeper joy of writing fiction can really begin.

When I embark upon a new project, I do so because I am drawn by the subject matter and the effect I suppose it has on people or groups of people. But having written several novels, I am now conscious of my own need to learn, and to better understand the mechanisms of behaviour and society.

In the first section of the novel, we built the foundations; we used our structure to get our story off the ground. This, the journey, is the middle section of the novel; this is the place where the novel is a journey of discovery, not only for the reader, but for the writer too. This is where the plot unfolds, the characters, deepen, and where we, as writers are lifted into a higher level of consciousness, that at times is exciting, and at times, frightening. This is the place where writers talk about ‘the guidance of the muse’. This is about surrendering the ego, being humble enough to know you don’t know everything. This is about trusting the process.

The Writing Process: Starting my next novel

I wrote: "Right now I am struggling within myself about starting my next novel. The idea has been in my mind and heart for some time. I have even done some research on the subject through the Internet, but getting the synopsis down on the word processor is like pulling teeth, let alone expanding to a chapter breakdown."

Julie wrote: "Would it help?

To begin to write a small short story, Just to please the child within.

Let go of the struggle. And just Play.

Write anything that wants to dribble onto the page.

Ask the child within to come out and play, and ask the adult fearful to stand aside.

Take some deep breaths, smile, feel how well your fingers itch to dance the keyboards and reveal the secret outpourings of the Childs whim.

Let the warmth and relaxation of self-creative flow flood your being and feel the joy of not standing in the creative –self’s way.

You stop all mind chatter. Picture a beautiful part of yourself being free, exploring a world your expression pours out in play to the delight of your child self.

Let the writing happen and be completely at ease. Stand away from wanting to be in control, leave this for the more dutiful times you are away from the wonder of writing and being in the worlds of your own creation.

Watch the picture form within and just let the words make your fingers happy. Be Very happy. Stay relaxed and enjoy the freedom of non-thinking and surf with content on the waves of your inner expression.

Make it a magical and most trusting moment of play without a worry about what is being written.

Take heart, smile and begin the fun. You can do it!!!

I always find the task of doing, the bigger thing that lives within, either an adventure or a stalemate.

The adventure because what I am creating is fresh and fuelled by beginning something I am doing for me. Doing for me is easy, as it is not going out there for others to see, others to think about, read or take long ums over. When I am doing for me I am surrounded by the warm cocooning flow of self-creativity. I play the game and enjoy the spilling out of all thoughts and create with ease. I don’t judge myself I just have fun.

The Writing Process: The Home Run

It has been a long distance race, this novel of yours. In the early stages you took well defined, planned out steps, steps that would warm up the muscles but that would at the same time conserve energy and prepare you for the long haul.

In the first section of the novel the characters deepened and became autonomous and to some degree less familiar than you had expected. It followed that the plot too would not follow exactly the lines laid out in the synopsis.

And so, taking a deep breath you moved into the middle section of the story, where, though referring to the chapter breakdown, you allow yourself to be drawn along by the characters.

In this section of the book, though never losing control, you must relinquish the notion that you are omniscient, (in the context of this novel) and that not just possible readers, but you too, are on a journey of discovery. Fiction comes to life when the writer succumbs to this fact, and lets his heart speak. This is not to say that the pen (or the word processor) takes over completely; you the writer will use your instincts and your intelligence to guide the novel along, but there must be some degree of surrender to this organic process.

And then two thirds of the way into the novel you pause for reflection. The characters have grown and deepened; the plot has at particular stages meandered, at others charged along exhaustingly. You find yourself with a lot of loose ends to be tied up. If you find yourself at a loss, the original synopsis and chapter breakdown can be an enormous help now. You see, you had already taught yourself how to complete and conclude a novel in this original scheme and even though the plot may have diverged from your basic idea, you still have enough material to adapt or re-write. And even if you need to re-write the chapter breakdown for the last section, you know you can do it, because you did it before!

In my opinion it doesn’t matter what type of novel you have written, whether it be a thriller, a romance, a psychological drama. It doesn’t matter whether the plot, or the characterisation has ultimately taken the upper hand. In every case, a rounding off of all the elements and a satisfactory last paragraph, or sentence, preceding the words ‘The End’ will make or break the novel. Think back to novels you have read, even ones captivatingly written, ones that have drawn you in and kept you reading till dawn. If that last section, or worse still that last paragraph or sentence has disappointed, then it would have coloured your memory of the entire novel. So, reach a satisfactory conclusion, one that leaves no unwanted loose ends. I say, unwanted, because a deliberate loose end, one that forces you to continue thinking about the story after you have closed the book, is not a ‘loose end’ in the sense of a badly finished novel.


In contrast, I recently read Dave Eggers, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. This initially clever book has us intrigued even before we read the first chapter, as Dave Eggers has slyly used the acknowledgements and foreword to illustrate his ability to break the rules and intrigue us. My respect for his daring lasted until about chapter 5, at which point I had the dreaded suspicion that, despite his clever entree, he really had no idea what he wanted to do with this novel. It was rapidly turning into a badly planned, not very profound, chronicle of his life immediately after the death of his parents, and his parenting of his younger brother. The promise he had shown by breaking a few rules initially, fell into superficiality. Dave Eggers was just not ready to dig deep enough to hold my interest. His characterisation (even though he wrote about real people) was marginal and two dimensional, and by the time he actually visits his parents graves and sheds a tear, I find myself saying ‘so what’. I cannot even remember exactly how he concluded this novel, and clearly any conclusion was not enough to save this novel, that was potentially a work of staggering genius, but turned out to be heartbreakingly disappointing.

Tracy Chevalier’s ‘Falling Angels’ on the other hand, is not particularly fast-paced, but it is set in a time of great social change in England, and this Chevalier uses to her full advantage. Her characters are well thought out, and fit perfectly into the situation of two royal deaths and the suffragette movement in England. I think the consistency of these different elements woven into a novel are underestimated. In Falling Angels we take it for granted because it is so well done. But if it were badly done, we would feel it immediately and come away from the novel feeling vaguely dissatisfied. Chevalier does what everyone wants to do: she makes it all seem easy. Her plot flows; the pace accelerating and decelerating exactly when it must. And the characters evolve and deepen without us even really noticing it. The conclusion is gentle, soothing, satisfying and completely in keeping with the calibre of the novel.

Our aim is to write just such a novel. One where the ending is like a deep, languorous breath.

Now, as a final thought, and one I will ponder for the next article: how do you say goodbye, emotionally put it to bed, and distance yourself enough to critically examine the manuscript?

The Writing Process: The Promise

Last week I went to a lecture. Barbara Kingsolver of The Bean Trees fame was the guest speaker. Her opening remark was a general one, applicable to all her novels. She says that when she begins a new novel, she makes a promise, to herself and to the reader. The novel is successful in her eyes if she has, at its conclusion fulfilled that promise.

So, since in article 14 we discussed conclusions, I thought that now would be a good time to ask that question and to discuss it further.

Now, as we prepare to re-read our first draft, and where necessary, edit it, I think it is of utmost importance to answer the question: Have I kept my promise in this novel? Have I come through, completed the task?

After the lecture I thought about The Cloths of Heaven, the basis for this topic, and asked that question and had to smile, because I had neatly packed the novel between a Prologue and an Epilogue, both incorporating some of the same sentences and scenes. In the Prologue I had asked the question: Was James’ Street secret to be buried forever? And in the Prologue I have uncovered the secrets, given an answer to the question, and tied up the loose ends. What was my promise then, in this novel? The promise was to give an answer to that question and I did. The circle is complete, no loose ends, and a feeling of satisfaction at the novel’s conclusion.

Making a promise when you set out, or asking that question that sparks off the novel, will give the novel its direction, will help you to filter the elements and utilise them fully. So that’s what you do first, when it comes to revising your novel. Ensure you have fulfilled your promise or answered that all-important question.

Once you have established that, you can begin reading and revising. Other elements can now be considered simultaneously with that first question. You will find that there are passages that do not add to the fulfilment of the promise or pivotal question, and at these points you need to ask yourself what they add to the novel, if anything. Maybe they are descriptive of character or place. They might add an extra dimension in perception or be useful in adding clarity to the setting. If they do none of these things, it might in fact be better for the novel as a whole to scrap them. And be ruthless. Pieces of banality will weaken a potentially strong story.

There may be passages where the pace lags, or where you seem to skim over issues. Here you can either trim down or expand. Sometimes the sequence of events needs to be reconsidered in order to maintain the suspense or to heighten the emotional power of a chapter. Sometimes even whole chapters ought to be switched around. Remember, before you decided to write fiction you were widely read, so trust your gut on these matters. When does foreshadowing (hinting at an incident in the future) add to the novel, and when does it spoil the suspense? This is an individual issue, and the answer will vary from novel to novel.

In some psychological thrillers, the victim and the murderer may be revealed in the first chapter, and the purpose of the novel will be to have the investigator discover what we already know. In other novels, the power of the novel lies in keeping the reader in the dark until the last moment, and laying clues that will have the reader constantly guessing ‘whodunnit’. Both forms are equally valid, but once the promise is made, the novel must adhere to that one route. To swap and change within the novel will in fact, break the promise to the reader, and weaken the novel. As a reader you know this, so as a writer, you will ‘feel’ it when you’ve got it right.

In The Cloths of Heaven, one of the characters dies. In my first draft I actually foreshadowed that event with a rogue sentence which simply stated ‘he died’ about two chapters before it in fact, happened. Instead of strengthening this event, I had weakened it, made it banal, and almost made the following chapters, redundant. I took out that one statement, (no more than three words) and brought the power back into the prose.

I would recommend that when you are reading that first draft, every time you feel your energy sapping away, just put a mark in the margin, even if you don’t know what’s wrong with the paragraph or sentence or whatever. On a second or third reading, when you’ve trimmed and enhanced other, more obvious faux pas, take the time to examine these again. Chances are, it might just be a badly constructed sentence, or paragraph that is difficult to read. Simplify it. Is it too long? Then split it into two sentences. Does it add to the story or could you do without it? Then scrap it.

Sometimes it’s hard to erase a part of your creation. Sometimes there’s that one, beautiful sentence, the one you fear you may never write again. And yet, it doesn’t fit in. So you have to take it out.

In order to reduce the pain of this process, I have a reserve document, just for these sentences and paragraphs, a place where I put them out to pasture, instead of killing them off completely. I may never look at them again, but just knowing they are there, in case….., makes editing more bearable.

The Writing Process: Letting Go

Just as editing can be a painful process, so too, is the following step. If you thought all the other steps that go into the creation of a novel were difficult, then don’t underestimate the emotional strain involved in letting go of the novel once it has been written.

It’s funny, you know, but true in almost all cases, that when you undertake the writing of a work of fiction, you go through various levels of confidence and self-belief, counterbalanced by deep periods of lack of confidence and a conviction that you’re useless. None the less, if you have reached this stage, you have obviously plodded along, using the memory of the high points to carry you over the times when the novel in progress has threatened to overwhelm you and drive you to give up.

You didn’t give up. You reached The End, and now you’ve edited, keeping any particularly wonderful passages that didn’t fit the story but were too beautiful to toss onto a garbage heap. So what now? Straight into an envelope with a letter to a publisher waxing lyrical on your talents? I don’t think so!

I haven’t talked about writing groups here as I was more concerned with you, the writer, building healthy writing habits. The process as I developed it is relevant regardless of whether you write the novel without ever sharing your work in progress with others or alternatively, while participating in a group where your work is read, or at least discussed with other like minded people. The merits or otherwise of such groups will be discussed in another article.

Right now, you’re sitting with a manuscript that you have edited to the best of your ability, using your skills as both reader and writer. But never underestimate the power of your emotional attachment to this work; never underestimate the subconscious powers within your own spirit that might prevent you from honing in on the best and worst aspects of this work of fiction. Don’t imagine that one more read, one more skim over the text will bring to light the weaknesses in the text, or plot or character development. You do not have the detachment necessary to assess this work impartially and that is no slur on your abilities. It is a simple fact. You have put heart and soul and a lot of hours into this work. Following the process as described within this topic, you have overcome some psychological and emotional hurdles to achieve this end, so don’t expect to sanguinely trim it down and perfect it all on your own.

Sit back, relax, and let yourself take one or two mental steps back from your work. Allow yourself to let go. Experience the insecurity, own it, and integrate it, so that you clear the way for ‘going public’ with your work. Just as the voices in your head whispered in your ear that you were not capable of even getting this far, so they will scream at you now to hide this novel in a drawer somewhere because it’s all rubbish. Use the same techniques now as you employed then to overcome this tidal wave of nerves and prepare to hand this manuscript over. Imagine it being read by someone else and then visualise who that someone else is. Preferably two or three other people. Then ask these other people, readers, you know have the courage to criticise as well as praise, to read your work and give you the necessary feedback. Be emphatic about needing ‘negative’ as well as ‘positive’ feedback. Insist that you want to hear it all because you know this is the only way to trim this story into shape and make it the best it can be.

When I was writing The Cloths of Heaven, I was uncharacteristically involved in a writing group and had presented the chapters on a regular basis to my group (a small one consisting of three members, including myself), so grammatically I had done the necessary editing en route. When the first draft was completed, I did my own fine tuning as described in article 15, and then asked my group to read the entire manuscript again. But, in order to get an overall view, I asked others to read it, too not writers, just readers, and readers who were prepared to criticise. That way I would receive a well-rounded idea of the strengths and weaknesses of the novel.

Then, I busied myself with all those tasks that had piled up, waiting to be done, while my novel was being written. Do anything that takes your mind off the novel for a while and be patient while your trusted readers do their job.

The Writing Process: The Last Hurdle

Can you really handle it? After perhaps a year of living with this novel, of having it live inside your head and your heart until you cannot remember a time when it wasn’t there occupying your existence, can you bear the commentary, dare I say it, criticism of your chosen readers? Well, you know what, you don’t have to? You can choose to ignore it, choose to bury your head in the sand. You can even choose to take it all personally and even argue with your readers.

But what would be the point? It is true that every reader sees something different in a novel and what appeals to one might not appeal to another. There are those who thrive on Dickens and Hardy and other classics while others have difficulty wading through the classics. Ireland has its James Joyce following, its Bloomsday, when an anti James Joyce club could just as easily be formed, should one wish to spend time and effort on it.

So, why choose a critical readership at all. For several reasons. The first, and simplest criteria for taking criticism seriously is this: where two or more of your readers have consistently uncovered the same weaknesses, or flaws in the novel then it is most likely weak in those areas, either in vocabulary, consistency of language and style, or even in credibility of characterisation. Whatever the flaw, if it is validated by more of your readers then it is most likely appropriate to take it seriously and where possible to correct it. The editor of a publishing house, being a reader, albeit a professional one, will encounter exactly the same things as your readers.

Where one of your chosen readers dislikes an aspect of the story, and another likes it, observe the difference between these readers, because this might be a good indication of the market your book will appeal to, and being able to make this kind of distinction when writing your proposal for the publishers will illustrate your competence and your ability to define your work, and this is attractive you publishers.

I have often read work for other aspiring novelists, and what bothers me and annoys me, is when, after having sifted through the novel, analysed its strengths and weaknesses, formulated them as best I can, on presenting them to the writer, he/she digs their heels in, doggedly defending the work, refusing to take on board any of the comments. Even when I have picked out aspects that are repeated by other readers, some writers refuse to hear the commentary. These writers hand out their manuscripts for the sole purpose of receiving praise, and are not open to anything else. I try to avoid this kind of stubbornness, though it is extremely difficult to hear anything negative about this opus, this life’s project, but if your ultimate goal is publication (maybe it isn’t!!!) then a final edit is unavoidable.

The reader is evaluating the work, is being a real friend by investing time and energy in your project. Any criticism is of the work, not of you, the person.

Finally, sift through the critiques, and where possible, correct and improve your work. Jump that last, and seemingly highest hurdle before you truly go public.

The Writing Process: Going Public

So, you’ve done it! Sit back and take a deep breath, and let it sink in. You’ve written the novel, allowed it to be critiqued, and you’ve edited it to the best of your ability. That’s no mean feat. In fact, it’s a huge achievement, and before you take the next step, allow yourself to embrace that. Take pride in the achievement.

The book is written. And no matter what happens, that cannot be taken away from you. What is most important now, even more important than publication, is to reflect on what writing the book has done for you. There is no denying the fact that writing a book will change the writer. Looking back on all the steps taken to produce this book, all the hurdles both actual and emotional that were overcome, then it is inevitable that you, the writer have evolved and most likely become a more complete person. You have had to face your demons by journaling and by recognising the voices that played in your head, preventing the flow of emotion needed to develop characters, and deal with issues. You will have managed a new level of empathy, one that embraces not only likeable but also less palatable characters. You will have taken a step back from life, and its patterns and learned how to analyse and put into words, things that some people never even think about. All of this will have added to you as a person.

It is essential to take this on board, because this is the intrinsic value of writing. This is the reward that counts most because it is permanent and irreversible. Anything else, is dependant on the outside world and the whims and opinions of others. And by others I mean the publishing world and, if you’re lucky your reading public.

I emphasise this so that, if you choose to publish and submit your work to publishing houses and agents, you will need to remember these aspects of your writing to keep you motivated when the rejection slips roll in, as they inevitably will.

So, what next? In this, part 1 of Going Public, what we will do is write the synopsis – not as easy as it sounds. The synopsis a publisher wants to read, is not comparable to the ‘blurb’ on the back of the dustcover. That is usually a teaser, ending on a cliffhanger that will entice the reader in the store to purchase and read on. No, the publisher wants a detailed synopsis, one that will describe the build up of the plot, the character motivations, the setting, and the conclusion.

Writing the synopsis for the publisher is not the same as writing the synopsis that gets the novel started either. That synopsis is written BEFORE the characters come to life and the plot takes the winding instead of the straight path that you imagined it would. You are now writing the synopsis in hindsight, with the novel finished in front of you.

To write the synopsis, begin by writing a chapter breakdown, highlighting the main event in each chapter. Then make one or two notes about the main characters, how they grew and deepened throughout the course of the novel, again highlighting the events that had the strongest influence on their development.

If the novel is character driven, then the final synopsis should describe the natural unfolding of the character, and the events within the plot that brought about the different stages in the character development. If the novel is plot driven, then describing the plot in detail should take priority, with the characters taking a secondary position. In both cases, the conclusion can and should be included – the publisher or agent does not need to be ‘kept in the dark’. This is a different type of sales pitch.

Also, when writing the synopsis reflect on what you learned and how your own view of the world deepened through writing this novel; this is what makes your novel different from those that are already on the market, and this is what the publisher needs to hear. What does your book offer the reader, that is not already available.

When writing The Cloths of Heaven my own views on beauty, talent and success were changed radically. The two main characters in The Cloths of Heaven are absolute opposites. Sheila, the narrator, is physically disabled, has learning difficulties because of her physical and communicative disadvantages. Maud, her best friend, is beautiful, intelligent, sexually attractive and sociable. Yet, in the end, it is Sheila who ultimately builds a life for herself, and finds her niche in society. All Maud’s apparent assets did not help her in the end. When writing the synopsis, this element was essential. This was the lesson I learned in writing the novel, and to me it was a profound insight. So this is what readers learn too; this was the value of what I had written. Some readers have written reviews and posted them on Amazon and other online stores, and most of them mention this in their reviews; this is the chord that struck home.

So, look for that message, that one thread that caused you to adapt and revise your vision. This is why you wrote the book!

By now you’re probably wondering why you ever decided to write a novel at all! What started out as a task based on inspiration and that ‘unexplainable urge’ to put words to a vision, is at this point being lost in mechanics. There is little of inspiration at this stage of a novel. And if you are still following this topic then you have made the decision that what you have written should be available to an audience. You have decided that the world should share your vision. So now stop thinking just like a writer and think like a publisher. Think about what you have written; pinpoint the message you have put down in your synopsis and imagine who needs or who would want to read your novel.

And why? Because now it’s time to write your covering letter. This should at all times be purely professional and at all times succinct. Start with a brief description of yourself, inasmuch as it is relevant to your writing. Describe the book, very briefly, referring to the synopsis for a more detailed description. And finally target your audience, and where possible give an indication of how you expect the novel to be marketed successfully. And keep it short. The last thing you want to happen is that the publisher tires of reading the covering letter – that way he won’t even get to the synopsis never mind reading your book.

Once the covering letter is written, you now need to choose an agent and/or publisher. Writers’ Handbooks will list agents and publishers, and give a brief description of the material they handle. In the case of publishers they will also mention whether direct dealings are accepted, or preferably through an agent. And believe me, if a publisher wants to deal only with agents, it is fruitless to approach them. Also, take heed of the submission requirements. Some will want only the letter and synopsis, others will want samples, (the first three chapters), and occasionally an agent/publisher will accept a full manuscript. In all cases, follow the guidelines. It shows respect and will increase your chances of being taken seriously. Another way to pick a potential agent/publisher is to take note of where your favourite writers are published because the chances are good that your work will be similar to theirs.

I see no harm in selecting up to three simultaneously, and sending your package to all three. That way, when the first rejection comes in (as it will) you will still have others in the pipeline. I would also advise you to send out rejected work as quickly as possible to your next name on the list, so that you are always committed to your work.

But when the first three have gone out, you can be pretty sure that for a couple of months you will be left in no man’s land. The best way to cope with that, is to work on letting the muse whisper in your ear anew. Keep your notebook to hand, and jot down any ideas, however fragmented that come to mind. Even if this is no more than a diversionary tactic, it will give you a feeling of being productive.

Also, and this is a personal opinion, increase your physical activity. Be on the move, even if it’s only to spring clean the house. Getting physical will clear the mind, will reconnect you with the earth, and literally enhance your peace of mind. You need to disconnect with your novel so that you can let the next one take root in your subconscious.

The Writing Process: More on Inspiration

The last couple of articles have had little to do with writing, and more to do with marketing and publishing. At this point it is easy to become weary of the entire project and after one or two rejections, which are as good as inevitable, the danger is that you stop thinking about yourself as a writer. You have finished one novel, and have not had time or mental space to think of the next. And yet, this is the moment when remembering you are a writer is of extreme importance. It is all too easy to take the rejections as being your worth as a writer and if the need for external success overcomes you, you might decide not to write another novel. But remember, you started writing because you had something to say, felt the urge to say it, and felt incomplete without it.

I have reached that point too, have wanted to give up and ignore the whispers of new ideas that tried to be heard.

And not long ago I had that feeling again. Around that time I had received an invitation to participate in a writers weekend in Amsterdam, an invitation I ignored. Then the organiser, a wonderful woman called Jonette Stabbert who is invaluable to the English language writing community here in the Netherlands, phoned me, and asked why I had not added my name to the list. She invited me again, only now as a panelist as well as participant. This time I said ‘ yes’.

What a wonderful weekend it turned out to be. Imagine spending a weekend with a group of people, all with the same quirky view of the world, the same desire for originality, the same need to make their opinions known. It is the greatest source of inspiration I know. These were all talented, dedicated people. These had all gone through the rejection process in one way or another. And all of them were renewing their promise to themselves to have faith, and to continue to regard themselves as writers. By attending that weekend, I too was rejuvenated.

Nothing in the world beats spending time with creative souls. Their is a level of truth in the communication, a sense of trust and sensitivity that sometimes gets lost in the workplace. When writers get together something extra happens. Something new creeps in, something bigger and more vibrant.

So when inspiration fails you, when you doubt your position as a writer, find a creative environment or organise a gathering of creative people, and be reborn as a writer.

The Writing Process: Heartfelt Writing

The basis of my topic has been to take the myth out of novel writing.
I have repeatedly reminded you that you don't have to live a huge glamourous life in order to be inspired. In fact, even the most fantastic experience, the most extravagant happening will fall flat if the writing of it is done without the connection to your heart, and to your spirit. Truly great writing will shine through the saddest of grammar, the most limited of vocabulary. All these things can be fixed and improved upon - they are the mechanics an can be learned.

What cannot be learned, what must be felt is the passion. It takes courage to write truly inspiring prose.

Until now I have based my topic on my novel The Cloths of Heaven. Here I include an excerpt from another of my novels (not yet published) Trash Fire.

You can see here that I have used perfectly normal events, and made them special by attaching my emotion to them.

Enjoy.

"MOVING ON

Madeline led her out to the car. Have you ever been in the heart of Connemara before? She asked.

Julie shook her head. Only to Clifden, but then everybody has been to Clifden.

You’ll love our farm. Utterly isolated, but with the advantage of electricity, and good sanitation. We grow our own vegetables, of course, and never eat meat. Bread we bake, though we do buy the flour from the health food store in town.

And Julie did love it. She loved the smell of the peat and the dew in the early morning, fresh and vitalising. She loved the sight of the mauve mist over the black velvet mountains. She loved the feel of the damp, cold grass beneath her naked feet. And when she listened carefully she could hear the bleating sheep on a distant valley and the trickle of the mountain stream. Peace at last.

She helped in the vegetable garden, plucking the weeds from between the onion shoots. She hoed the thick, compacted soil loose so new crops could be planted. She harvested the beans and carrots, the food they would eat in the evenings.

She thought of her own garden, back home. Hers and only hers. The only gardening Dick did was mowing the lawn and then only on the sunniest of days. And because the mowing was his task he had purchased a motor mower for himself. He had wanted to buy one that he could sit on, and steer, so that all he had to do was take care that he drove in a straight line, and gulp beer from a can.

The Writing Process: Published?

It is not unusual that, though you’ve written a great synopsis and proposal concerning your novel, that publishers will reject you without having seen the novel itself. It is a highly competitive world and many authors never see their work in print. There are writers who, having set their hearts on being published, quit the writing business, feeling like failures. But the truth is that rejection, either on the strength of the synopsis or even after submission of sample chapters, is not necessarily an evaluation of the work. In fact, if you have chosen to write from your heart and emotion, and have not heeded the so called ‘trends’ you have possibly written a wonderfully original work but one that is a commercial risk to publishers whose own world grows increasingly competitive.

What to do? According to Dan Poynter this is the moment to take that huge leap of faith and go for it. Self-publish! It was after several rejections, and near misses, that I began to contemplate self-publishing The Cloths of Heaven. This story was so important to me; I had written it so that others might better understand what it was to grow up physically disabled in Ireland. If this book was not going to be published through regular channels it would either be totally forgotten or published through less usual methods.

I bought Dan Poynter’s Self Publishing Manual and read about the various ways in which to self publish. You can go the ‘whole hog’, that is you can control the entire process from type setting, to printing, to designing and preparing the cover. That means arranging the printer, binder, being your own proof reader, typesetter, and more than that, having the means to store the books you produce, and the opportunity and skill to create sales, and deliver to the retail outlets. On top of all of that, you have to have energy and resources left over to promote and publicise this new book. Printing, binding, storage and distribution are costly. In order to work this way, without losing a lot of money you must be sure that you can find buyers for all the books you produce. Given that this is your first novel and given that it probably falls out of the regular category of novel that publishers know sell, it is not advisable to spend money that you need to earn back in the short run. This is a long term investment, and should not be done by remortgaging the house or borrowing from the kids savings’ account!

The above was not what I wanted. Nor did I want to fall into the ‘vanity’ trap, where a company offers to produce 1000 copies of your book at a considerable price to you, and despite promises to the contrary, rarely gives much assistance when it comes to generating sales or attaining publicity for your work. Why should they? They have produced 1000 books with an immediate complete sell out! It’s not their problem is it?
Another way of getting your book into print and at a reasonable cost to you is the POD method, or Print On Demand. Several companies offer this service, and for as little as 100 dollars your book will be printed and bound as a trade paperback. For the 100 dollars your book will be produced, you will receive at least 5 complementary copies, and your book will be added to the online catalogues of the better known internet bookstores. That’s actually not bad. But, don’t expect much more than that because then your in for a disappointment. Any promotion will be done by you, and for any author events, signings and the like, you will have to purchase your own books, (at a discount but non returnable) and set up the event. If you want your book reviewed by newspapers or magazines, you again will have to purchase the book first in order to do so. But, your book is in print, and all your friends and family and other interested parties can buy it. You will at least be able to share your work with everyone you wish. If you are really lucky then you will sell to people you don’t know either by having the book reviewed and so creating an interest, or by introducing yourself to readers groups on the internet (when hopefully the group members will buy the book themselves on the internet). But don’t expect miracles, and don’t expect to give up the day job, because sales will be slow, and you will not have a bestseller overnight. What you will have is the pleasure of seeing your work bound in a cover, and the satisfaction of having it read by a wider audience.

The Writing Process: The End!

Well, the day has arrived. I have completed the series of articles as I had planned for the Writing Process. I’d like to think I have covered all aspects of the writing process that you will come across when you are writing that first novel. My vision of writing mirrors my vision of life – that everything is an integrated process and in order to function optimally this integration must be recognised. It is not enough to know how to construct a sentence, or how to break down a plot, or when to start a new paragraph or chapter. These I call the technicalities, to be likened to the skills we learn as a child that help us grow up. They are the walking, talking and feeding ourselves. Without them life would be a lot more complicated. But what makes life more exciting and more fulfilling are the extra talents and insights that separate us from other animals, and these elements are also necessary in order for us to move beyond the mundane to the wonderful. So too with our writing. The heart and soul are what will transform a piece of writing into a work of art, something of significance that we can share with others.

Throughout our lives we have been limited, criticised, perhaps even forced into believing an image of ourselves that is not truly in keeping with our soul vision, and unless we bring these elements into the consciousness and give them a place, they will be the very elements that will hinder our writing. These internalised notions, inconsistent ideas and criticisms will form a wall between us and our truly great potential. These will dilute our talents and make us too careful about what we say.

I choose to journalise these notions, and I firmly believe that unless these subconscious voices be brought to the surface in our journal, we will never write the best we can. But if we free ourselves and create a space in our being for better and more accurate self image, then the courageous, innovative, pioneering writer will blossom.

Though I have come to the end of the articles I will continue to muse on the writing process, and I welcome any questions and suggestions that I can answer and incorporate into future articles.

I have enjoyed the topic until now, and am happy with the result. I hope you all are too.

The Writing Process: Starting again

You may decide not to follow the advice in the previous article, and continue to send your work out to publishers and agents, and you may, when the responses are slow and result in continued rejections, start to feel like you're in a vacuum. You are still deeply involved with your completed novel, and if you add the disappointment of rejection to your already somber mood at having to put the characters you've spent so long getting to know and love, to rest, then you won’t be feeling creative. How do you counter this? The best way to reconnect with the world and your creativity is to get started on your next project.

There has to be a period of grieving. Take the time to say goodbye to your previous work. Distance yourself from it. Continue to send it out to publishers and agents by all means, but accept that emotionally, it is done. Recognise what you are feeling and integrate it. Denying it, or trivialising it will not help. Just as writing the novel brought you to new levels of awareness, so too will saying goodbye. Every emotion is a valid emotion. And each one has a place in your personality. In order to complete this novel you had to learn to take yourself seriously. You had to face your demons, listen to the subconscious voices, and embrace them. Well, the completion of the novel, and the farewell to the characters you've nurtured for some months, demands the same level of consciousness and the same committment to your emotional world. Using exactly the same tools as were employed in reaching your authenticity, the journal, the time management, the solitude where appropriate, you can say goodbye.

Having said goodbye, you can, with less torment, take the rejection on board, and even choose to publish in one of the ways mentioned in the previous article, while using the emotional and psychological space you have created through this mourning phase, to start soaking up new ideas, new inspirations.

If writing a novel took solitude and a retreating into self, then this period should have you reconnecting with the outside world; it should have you observing and participating all at the same time. Your notebook should be close at hand, and all and any observations should be written down. Remember nothing is too silly, too insignificant, or too trivial. As I illustrated way back in my first article, the mundane is only mundane when not used properly. Washing dishes, doing housework, talking to your local grocer can all be incorporated into your novel. Be aware, be fully conscious, because the next novel might be just around the corner.

The Writing Process: The Writer's Block

I promised you all ramblings and musings and that’s exactly what you’re all going to get. When it comes to the writing process there are particular subjects that continue to intrigue me. The most intriguing being the phenomenon “Writer’s Block”. It can happen to anyone, at any time. You can be right in the middle of a novel, and suddenly, despite all the meticulous preparation, and despite being highly motivated, your mind goes blank, and there you sit, in front of your computer screen, scrolling back and forth over what you’ve written, and not one single syllable comes to mind to kick start you into the next phase. Then again it can happen right at the beginning of your novel when you’ve completed your synopsis, plot line and chapter breakdown, and you simply cannot find that suitable opening sentence. It might even happen that you’ve completed your novel, and want to improve on that rough first draft. You know it needs improvement, you know it could be better, you feel it dragging. And yet, you can’t do a thing. You are stumped! I have encountered the block at all the above mentioned phases and have come to the conclusion that all stem from the same problem – fear. That deep rooted fear that you just don’t have it in you. It can crop up at any time. Whether you have just started writing, or are putting that novel to bed, fear can return and paralyse you creatively. If you have followed the whole topic you will realise that we’ve touched on this subject before, and that to move on from mediocre to marvellous fiction writing, those fears must be faced, acknowledged and ultimately, overcome. And in my opinion there’s not a single writer who hasn’t faced the fear. Of course by the time authors appear on television or are seen at lectures and signings, they have managed to move on from their fear and insecurity and appear to us perhaps to be brimming with confidence, but don’t be fooled. These authors too, have known that fear, that ‘break out in a cold sweat’ moment when they have thought they had written their last sentence and that the bubble had burst. Seeing early interviews with J.K. Rowling you can see her fear, her insecurity and her disbelief that her books are selling like hotcakes and this kind of fear might have even prevented her from writing the next Harry Potter. See her in later interviews and she is a lot calmer, a lot more confident. She has overcome her fear and in its place she has found a true belief in her own abilities as a writer. She has the confidence to acknowledge her talent. So how do we go from fear to self-belief? How do we jump that hurdle successfully at whatever stage it confronts us? The first step to overcoming fear, and not only in relation to our writing, but in life too, is to recognise it. No use trying to pretend it’s not there, or disguise it as something else, this will only make it’s debilitating effect on us even worse. When fear is denied it transforms into all sorts of crippling alternatives. Those alternatives range from anger, irritation, obstinacy to depression if it is allowed to continue till it reaches chronic proportions. Ignoring fear or over-compensating will not have lasting effective results on ourselves or our writing. So you’re blocked, and you know fear has reared its ugly head and stolen the words from you. Face it. Say it aloud, or write it down in capital letters. I AM AFRAID. Next, get specific. What are you afraid of, why are you afraid, and what has caused the fear to rise to the surface now? Fear can be of many things. Fear of failure, of success, of criticism. Which of these is it in your case? Or is it all of these? Fear of failure – giving in to this will certainly create failure, and will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Do nothing and your worst fear is reality. You will have failed. You will not have completed your novel to the best it could be. Fear of success – giving in to this one is an enormous act of self-sabotage. It is nothing more than a fear of the unknown. And just think about how awful you feel right now with that half-finished novel and know that success can never feel this bad! Fear of criticism – is the criticism of others any more painful than the amount of self-criticism you are dishing out when you sit at that incomplete work and knock yourself on the head about it? I don’t think so. In the three situations the first step to overcoming the fear is to get back to just writing for the hell of it, totally and utterly for yourself, and because you wanted to. If you can do this you allow yourself to write any old rubbish for a while until your body and mind are retrained into the practice of writing. You will recover the Writing Process in the pure form it had when you set out on this undertaking. Know you may be writing rubbish initially, and give yourself permission to laugh at your efforts later. If you are feeling really courageous you might even allow some discerning person close to you to read these efforts. That way you will disempower your fears. Particularly it is important to work on your fears when you stumble half way through your novel. The fear here stems from taking a dive into the unknown, not unlike the fear of success, but add to this, the stomach churning fear that all your careful preparation has been to know avail. Firstly, half way through a novel characters will have developed in a completely new and fascinating fashion, something you could not have possibly anticipated in the planning stage. The fact that you need to change and modify your first guideline is a positive thing. It means you have written with enough courage to allow your characters to take you on an unexpected journey. Have faith, and give yourself permission to turn the unkown corner. And toss aside the notion of the imaginary public, and go on the journey of discovery that your story wants you to undertake, just for you.

AND REMEMBER, NOTHING IS WRITTEN IN BLOOD. IT CAN ALL BE ERASED AND RE-WRITTEN. IT IS ALL YOURS.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Motivation: Be Thankful You're A Writer

Top Five Reasons To Be Thankful You're A Writer

1. At a holiday party you may be referred to through hushed whispers as "the writer." (Thus adding a certain mystic to your personality. Non-writers don't always understand that writing can be far from glamorous. As you know a lot of the process is blood, sweat, and tears)

2.You can work in your pajamas, sans makeup and brushing your hair. (Of course this only applies, if you are in a position where you can write from home)

3. Your parents were wrong when they said you shouldn't make up stories. Now, as a writer you can make up stories with a clear conscious!

4. You can create your own happy endings! (This is my favorite)

5.Your imagination can take you places you never dreamed of, or may otherwise never have the opportunity to go. (The moon, medieval England, the Old West during the gold rush, the sky's the limit!)

Of course, being able to express oneself through words is a true blessing.

I've often read that writing can be viewed as both a blessing and a curse, and admittedly, at times I have felt this way. However, in the end I would never trade the joy and pride I feel during the process of creating or after completing a writing project.

We all have things in our lives we can find to be thankful for. Just don't forget to be thankul for your ability to express yourself through your own unique writing voice.

Remember, just like there are never duplicate sets of fingerprints in the world, such is true with one's writing when applying one's own distinctive writing voice.

You are one of a kind and so is your writing!

Your writing voice is special and worthy to be read. Don't give up. Don't stifle your unique writing voice.

Never allow a rejection to destroy your dreams of writing!

Allow your own unique voice to flow into words on paper and shine through your work!

Your unique writing voice is a blessing in itself. Write from your soul, and you cannot possibly go wrong.