For the first time, eyes other than mine are looking over the words I have been poring over for well over a year. I guess it should be a scary time, but it is not. Could this be due to the story already having been released in audio format – and the very positive response I have received from many listeners?

Making a better book

When I gave it a little more thought, I realised something very important about this proofing process: whatever comments I receive, they can only result in a better novel.

There is no room for egos and sensitivities at this stage. If the work fails to provide its first, amateur readers with a positive experience, it stands virtually no chance of passing the infinitely more discerning eyes of a professional publisher’s reader.

Real edits

The first reader to return edits was one I trusted would not tip-toe around my sensibilities, and tell me exactly what she thought. She did not fail me. Thankfully, she enjoyed the reading, wanting to continue with the rest to learn how the story unfolds. 

Minor typos, misspellings, and glitches aside, I found most of her more significant comments matched quite closely to those areas I have either struggled with or have had a gut feeling myself that something was not  quite right. Now someone else had spotted them, there was no denying the need for a little repair.

This is not tedious (yet)

I’m enjoying this editing process. Again, I think it comes down to an underlying realisation that the book is being improved, polished, and made more complete. 

I have spotted some issues myself while going through someone else’s comments. Focusing merely on how to fix issues they have highlighted, have detached me a little from the emotion of the words, and enabled me to spot – and fix – a couple of quite significant continuity errors, plus a chronological discrepancy.

I suspect, once the editing gets down to nothing more than individual word tweaking, I will get sick of the sight of the book. But I think I’ll retain my optimism, because at that stage, it is very close to being complete.

I regularly read about the danger of too frequent use of passive language in writing. We use passive language extensively in everyday speech as it dampens the danger of sounding aggressive. In dramatic prose, this style is fatal.

During those moments of full flow, instinctive writing, I tend to get overly passive, even in the heat of the action. That is just fine, as the writing is in the editing. Returning to the text months later, I discovered a copious splattering of passive verbs; time to dust off the scythe and and scrub the text into

Some examples

Spotting active and passive verbs is relatively straightforward. Here is an couple of examples:

• Brian was offering his hand in greeting. [passive]
• Brian offered his hand in greeting. [active]

The key to spotting the passive verb is, in most cases, the use of “was”. This led me to a straightforward method of activating my passive texts.

Kill the was

I searched for every instance of “was” throughout my text, each time reworking the sentence to remove it. Sometimes a simple matter of removing the “was” and changing its associated verb, other times a more colourful word replaced it.

Is it really that simple? Yes. Though some sentences will be tougher than others to adjust, I managed to remove the majority of “wases” which resulted in a far snappier and active form of writing.

Here are some genuine examples from my texts (I really don’t need to tell you which are passive, do I?):

• The opportunity to move was approaching
• The opportunity to move approached

• The sound was echoing as though behind it there was a vast, empty cavern
• The sound echoed as though behind it stretched a vast, empty cavern

• Jack was beaming from ear to ear
• Jack beamed from ear to ear

It seems obvious, doesn’t it? But when wrapped up in the editing process, trying to remember all the advice on what one should and should not do, simple, straightforward techniques such as this cut through the waffle and achieve marked improvements.

There are pros and cons to this method as you might imagine. As the Persistent Spirit story begins to enter its final phase and the end of the book is on the horizon, I find myself contemplating whether I might undergo the same process for the second book, A Shot in Time.

The cons

Time: writing and recording an episode consumes 15-20 hours of effort. Maintaining that each week with an increasingly demanding and unpredictable day-job has been, frankly, stressful.

Structure: episodes have a completely different structure to a novel, requiring continuing momentum, restructured scenes, and some point of tension at the end of each one. Unedited, this brings the novel a strange, pulse-like pace which now needs a further re-write.

The pros

Progress: episodes promoted regular writing. I believe I am further along in the story than I would have been without to self imposed demands of a regular episodic production.

Story momentum: despite the structure issue mentioned above, the story has a pace and continues to move along ithout getting bogged down and sluggish. Once the “episodic pulse” is edited out I think the novel will have an enhanced page-turning pace.

Feedback: reaching out with even an unpolished story to potential audience around the globe has generated feedback that has helped both encourage the work and help shape it.

What’s in store for 2009?

Not another audio book, that’s for sure. The pros most certainly outweigh the cons, so the audio book of the second Table Rappers book must correct some of the negatives of this years’ experience. Most importantly is the frustration from being unable to produce regular, weekly episodes. Book two (titled A Shot in Time) will not be released as serialised audio until it has completed the second draft.

That does not mean there will be nothing from the Table Rappers in 2009, however. I’m planning some short story dramatised episodes, including a cast of actors, full sound effects, etc. Doesn’t that mean even more work? Yes, but the work flow can be controlled around the production, and such a project is free from an ongoing, weekly deadline.

2009 is already promising to be a challenging year on both personal and professional fronts, so careful planning will be essential to achievement of my goals. I’m thoroughly looking forward to what might prove to be a formative year for the future!

I posted on the TableRappers site yesterday an announcement about the fifth book in the series. The concept I have had hanging around for a while, but the title escaped me until quite recently.

I find titles vital in the early stages of a creative project. They help to create focus, to solidify the idea beyond simply vague concepts. From a practical viewpoint, they create opportunities to organise and schedule.

As a graphic designer, one of the first tasks for a new project is always to create a brand, develop a logo, construct a visual representation of the idea. This process transforms the idea from little more than a spark of inspiration, into tangible potential.

Planning that far ahead?

I have always had in the back of my mind to write a minumum of six TableRappers books. But for now, the premise for book six is little more than a vague notion regarding the story arcs of the main protagonists – the ‘big picture’ stuff – and with book one still being written, I have enough to concentrate on for the next two to three years.

In a recent interview published in Writer’s magazine, Iain Banks, when asked whether he works on future books while writing the current one, responded with “Good god, no”.

I simply could not work exclusively on just one project. Sure, the primary project gets 95% of my energy, but I’m always looking ahead, planning the future development, and setting my sights on ever expanding horizons. For me, if I am planning on writing full time (eventually), then I better have enough ideas up my sleeve to keep me occupied!

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.