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.

It’s not the writing itself that keeps me chained to the keyboard night after night, but the result of that effort.

The second draft of Persistent Spirit is now over 72,000 words, and the most recent audiobook episode (Chapter 18) was painful beyond measure. Each sentence had to be teased out, then re-worked, then trashed and re-written, then sliced up and transformed into two episodes – and it’s not as yet in a finished state for print. Sometimes the words just flow, but that is all too rare, and brief.

I suspect most of us have a romantic picture of the writer. Holed-up in their chosen rural location, conjuring people, places, and events from thin air and rolling around in the financial fruits of their labours. While I suspect there are a handful who can boast something along those lines, the vast majority have to eek out precious hours of writing time amongst their busy lives while retaining the day job to survive. Friends are almost forgotten. Family is neglected. Cinema releases whiz by and invites to social gatherings grind to a halt on the expectation that you’ll not be attending. Oh, and the writing itself – the act of stringing sentences together to tell a story – is damn hard work.

I am unable as yet to fully comprehend what it is that drives me to continue Persistent Spirit – and plan the next handful of Table Rappers books. It may be the manifestation of pure thought, ideas about locations, characters, and events that were so intangible several years ago, and are now not only solidifying, but being shared with others. That, for me, might be the key. I love the characters, and if anyone else had written and published TableRappers, I would likely be a fan of the books. I have a passion and a joy for what I am developing, and I want to share that with as many people as possible. If that truly is my core motivation, then the next few years are promising to be a very satisfying time.

Tags: author, pain, Writing

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Traveling in the car a few weeks ago, jEN and I got talking about our individual writing projects. The discussion mainly centred about how different our methodologies, motivation, and plans are for the end results of our labours.

TableRappers was created from the start to have a very broad appeal. The word ‘romp’ is often used to describe its pace and there is little about that one might get away with describing as ‘literary’. The story is an adventure, designed – and written – to entertain. It is the kind of book you can pick up a dip into when you have time, on your commute into work, whatever. It does not command masses of attention and will never win literary prizes. It is specifically designed to tick off all of the above boxes.

The model for the whole TableRappers series is, you may be surprised to learn, based on Bernard Cornwell’s Sharp books – an extremely popular series of novels based in the Napoleonic wars of the early 19th Century (several were made into a television series starring Sean Bean). Although I enjoy the stories (more through the television series than the books, I have to admit to only having read one), I am not a Cornwell fan – merely an admirer inspired by how he created the Sharp series (I suppose one might say franchise).

My writing style is, of course, very different, but it is the way in which these books follow a continuing story that appealed to me as inspiration on how to handle TableRappers. I am about half way through the second draft of book one right now, book two is planned (and the prelude written, as is books three. How many books in total? As many as I can write for as long as people want to read them. There is an almost endless stream of ideas ready and waiting and the toughest part will be finding the time to write them all.

Could this be quantity over quality?

In a way, perhaps yes. I have no real urge to write the next great literary classic. What I am trying to do is entertain and create something people will grow fond of and look forward to the next installment.

I feel there are only two measures of success for a book: does the finished result achieve the aims of the author; and does the book appeal to a larger percentage of its target audience. Success is not in absolute numbers of sales, or the money earned from them, but in the achievement of the goal in creating the right product for the right market.

The other side of the fence

I suspect there will be some who believe writing should be a purely creative exercise and feel strategic creation of a product dilutes the end result.

It is true, ultimately, we must write for the greater part for ourselves. Writing is a painful and laborious pursuit. Can you imagine the added pain to spend those hundreds of writing hours in a setting, with characters, in a style you simply loathe? That is creative suicide. From the beginning I set out under the notion that to spend this much time over multiple stories with the same settings and characters, I better create something I would be interested in reading. I do not believe a writer can fool their reader into believing they have a passion for something they do not. Read any of the Cornwell books and you will understand immediately his passion for the big battles of the era.

I doubt very much I will ever write a book – for there are more than the TableRappers up my sleeve – that will be considered literary, and I am very comfortable with it.