I am under no illusions about the nature of the climb ahead of me to get Persistent Spirit and the rest of the Table Rappers series published and out on bookshelves. (Why I have swung a u-turn back from online publishing to traditional publishing is for another post.)

The chances of me landing an agent without already having some kind of publishing deal, or at least an offer, is very slim. But not impossible. A superb post on advice in finding a literary agent can be found on Neil Gaiman’s site.

It has to be the right one

Last weekend I waded through a database of Literary Agents and was surprised how straightforward it was to filter out those clearly not suitable for my submission. It took about 3 hours of research to pin down three possible candidates, carefully assessing the requirements and tone of their websites, and, of course, their current author list.

The principle criteria for me is to find an agent that understands a long running series of connected novels and associated online and offline elements. One that will respect my career experience and how that can be applied to promotion ongoing is also important.

This begs the question: If I get an offer from a agent who I feel does not properly fit those criteria, will I turn down the offer?

I hope the answer will be: yes, I will walk away for a more appropriate deal. But unless I am actually in that position, I don’t think I can make that decision ahead of time. There is too much to weigh-up.

Waiting for rejection

Sending the three submissions in the post this afternoon was an interesting experience. There is no nervousness, no fears, no nail-chewing whilst listening for the rejection letter response to pop through the letterbox in six to eight weeks.

Thankfully, the notion of rejection is something I came to terms with very early on, when I began venturing into writing. Fear of professional rejection is irrational and as a guaranteed stepping stone on the usually long, winding path to be published, is something no-one can side-step.

I do not lack confidence in my work. I know there is an audience for it, and I’ll just keep hammering at doors until I find someone who understands where that audience is.

What’s next?

Agents, like publishers, quote around six to eight weeks for a response. I’ll not confuse the issue by submitting to more agents in that time, but may make some direct to publisher submissions if I feel it is necessary.

Work on the final chapters of Persistent Spirit continues, and work on the second book, A Shot in Time, is accelerating in the background with story structure and planning starting to kick-in when there’s the time.

This one will be an exciting project for me coming to a new novel after my experience with the first – there will be less mystery, and less trying to work out just how to make it happen. This is a good thing because the story is promising to be more complex being split into two distinctly different locations (I’m not giving anything else away on that, it’s a surprise!).

How you would achieve this, I have no idea. How I am – well on the way to – achieving this is what this post is about. Some of this may work for you, or not.

The first draft is crap – deal with it

That reality was one of the toughest ideas to overcome – understanding that it is just fine to write a first draft that you would only consider using as lavatory paper (and then only in secret just in case anyone gets even a glimpse of the text). No one will read the first draft. With my first draft, not even me! I’ll get to why in just a moment, but first another important step: I stopped editing.

Once I came to terms with the prospect of writing rubbish I began to be far more productive, but very soon fell back into the pit of over eager editing and the resulting snail’s pace in progress because I was editing too much too early.

A pen and a Moleskine

I learned writing by hand prevented editing beyond a scribbled-out paragraph or two and a scrawled note in some nearby free space. I calculated that my handwriting would squeeze around 90,000 words into a standard Moleskine lined notebook (spend money on a decent quality notebook so you are less inclined to actually use it as toilet paper later).

This process brought me to a first draft in a couple of months. The pages filled, the story unfolded, and I found myself rapidly heading to the start of the second draft.

I kept the pace of the writing moving forward as consistently as possible. When something blocked that momentum or where some scene or action could not be worked through at that point, I simply wrote “stuff happens here to get them to the station” or similar. Can’t deal with it now? Then move on and deal with it later – you’re going to have to re-write it all anyway!

Engagement

Writing by hand seemed to have the additional benefit of embedding the text deeper into memory, to the extent that, while writing the second draft, I rarely have to reference the notebook. This is good because I do not have the neatest handwriting, particularly when ideas are in full flow.

More of the right tools

The second draft had to be transferred into some electronic form. Having as much love for Microsoft Word as a Marmite encrusted stick of celery, it took some time and exploration to discover Scrivener. This tool does what I need it to, doesn’t try to teach me how to write, doesn’t get in the way when I want to write, and has just the right level of organisation and customisability to tailor it to my needs, while ensuring I do not lose endless hours messing with too many needless settings. It’s not perfect, but it’s just right for me.

I do not use post-its or cards stuck to cork boards to play with the story, but I frequently use my large whiteboard for brainstorming plot points and working through the odd character crisis. Whiteboards are essential.

The serialised audiobook

Now this stage is likely not for everyone, but starting early 2008 I committed myself to releasing the second draft of the novel as a weekly 20 minute audio book. This established a predictable regime of writing around 3,500 words per week and structuring the work to ensure the story is continually developing in order to keep the audience’s attention. It means not only I am imposing a deadline, but so are those who email me in anticipation of the next episode.

The process also forced me to read the text aloud, frequently bringing to light issues with the text, grammar errors, plot problems, and particularly highlighting poor dialogue, which could be immediately fixed. Being the second draft, the audio version is not perfect by any means, but the benefits of this part of my process far outweighs concerns over an uncorrected error here and there.

Vacations, sickness and work trips aside, this has kept me on track. It is not without its stress, of course, as I am adding several hours each week in recording, editing, mixing and publishing the audio files, plus online promotion and building an audience. I currently have well over 90,000 words under my belt. Without this self imposed routine, I am convinced this book would not be as far along as it is right now.

What’s next?

A third draft will be necessary, as will having a trusted friend or two reading the text and providing constructive criticism. The text must be edited to improve pace and flow in some areas, of that I am already aware. And certain (and irritating to me) aspects of my natural and imperfect writing style have to be polished.

There’s a lot more work to be done and since that is in the future I do not feel able to discuss a process that I have not yet personally applied – so more on this subject in other posts.

I am looking forward to starting on the second book in the series, with the knowledge and experience of the first behind me. I may find a slightly different process, or an identical one. Processes are always subject to change, but one thing of which I am absolutely certain is that its first draft will be hand written in a spanking new Moleskine.