Tag Archives: Ready Set Novel!


Last night, I dreamt I was going to write an autobiography of Daniel Defoe.  Stupid unconscious.  I’m not going to write it – even if it were possible.

What I am doing is entering the second stage of my latest writing project.

I started one earlier this year.  Using the book Ready, Set, Novel, I got some way into writing a whole new story.  Then, in September, I went to the York Writer’s Festival and changed my mind.

The festival gave me a renewed sense of enthusiasm.  I got encouragement from an agent and publisher and attended some interesting workshops.  One piece of advice stuck away.  ‘Write as if no one’s going to read it.’

Having spent the last few months planning and writing a novel under the pressure of how it would be received, this was good advice.

I dumped the old idea and started again.  Using an image that came to me during meditation, I wrote characters as they appeared and followed them where they wanted to go.  Or, wherever seemed most interesting.

25,000 words later, I began to feel a need for direction.  I went back to the Ready, Set, Novel and did the ‘What is the Novel’s Core?’ exercise: trying to find a short sentence to summarise what the novel might be about.

With five characters, all of whom could be the lead, I decided to write brief synopses with each, in turn, as the main character.  It soon became clear who the lead was.  All the other characters became part of her story.  And, what followed was an interesting synopsis.

A final element from York was the suggestion to read Albert Zuckerman’s How to Write a Blockbuster.  This is the kind of idea I like.  A ‘What If?’ that suggests a new structure.  Already, the idea of setting it within an existing or past political event is appealing.

Don’t be surprised if I you see another blog post in a couple of months describing yet another new start.  But, I don’t know…


Bardo, Bardo

Tibetan Buddhists believe in a drifting state between lives, where the soul waits to find its new home.  Me?  I don’t believe in rebirth or reincarnation, but a purposeless state between lives I absolutely get.

A month ago, I submitted my latest, and possibly last, draft of my novel to an editor.  It’s been nine years since I started it, so coming to an end leaves me kicking my heels.  The obvious answer is to get back into writing another.  I already have an incomplete novel, started during a time when I thought the last one was done with, but I’m no longer excited by the premise and the writing now seems clunky.

The ideal was to start something new.  I already had an idea.  A friend of mine is a real character, so it seemed like a good idea to start with him.  Then another character popped up, someone else I know.  Then another, less clear.  I had fun writing a past and present for them, and then began to get stuck.

I have a guilt-provoking belief that proper novels start from character, and even though this is not how I have always worked, I keep trying to do it.  I found myself in a mid-state, flicking between character studies, and searches for purpose.  The main character seemed to be stuck in his house and bedroom, the writing became thinner.  I stopped.

On Saturday, I had a day free and decided to go for a walk in London.  As usual, I headed for the bookshops.  Foyles in Charing Cross Road seems to have regained its status as the place to go, so I went for coffee and cake, then walked down through the floors.  In Reference, I looked through Grammar and saw a display of How to Write books.

One stood out.  Ready, Set, Novel!  Another guilt-provoking belief I have is that you shouldn’t use ‘How to’ books to write a proper novel.  But flicking through, I liked it.  Lots of space and simple exercises.  And something struck me.  I have been writing properly for 13 years.  Two novels completed.  Haven’t I earned the right to go back and have fun?

And it has been.  Scribbling pictures in a blank square; brainstorming places and things that inspire and excite me; randomly assigning the top nine to three ‘novels’; and using the ‘What if?’ etc. etc.

Lord knows what will come of it, but I’m motivated to continue.  And in the meantime, I seem to have recovered my sense of purpose and, maybe, a new life.