Week 39 - What's It All About, Malfi?

Among all the emails I routinely receive in a week (African “businessmen” asking me to let them have my bank details so I can become rich; offers of help to improve sexual prowess; press releases for tinned fruit...) there was one from Ian in Dundee.

It was a request for help. Apparently, Ian is writing a crime novel and although he has a synopsis and has completed a first draft, his second draft is adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

And he thinks I can help.

I’m flattered, but I can’t help but think that sometimes this blog gives a rather rosy view of the state of my own endeavours. That’s probably for two reasons: firstly, I am always trying to put a positive spin on my week’s work, after all, no one wants to read a weekly sob story; and secondly, I tend to write the thing on a Friday afternoon - a time when it’s almost impossible not to be approaching a level of unrestrained bliss.

The truth, of course, is that this whole second draft malarky is no picnic. Or at least it is a picnic, if it resembles one of those school trip picnics when I camped in an ant-infested field, got sun burnt and David Hutchinson threw up all over my potted meat sandwiches.

One of the problems Ian seems to be suffering from is a common one: when you’re writing your first novel, you really have no idea what to expect. Yes, we can guess it will be hard work; we accept we probably won’t get quite as much sleep as we’d like; and the manager at Starbucks is probably going to wish we spent more time buying drinks and food and less time nursing our small ( sorry, tall) black coffee that went cold a few hours earlier.

But beyond this, we don’t really know what to expect.

I referred Ian to Kate Mosse’s tips for writers: http://www.mosselabyrinth.co.uk/advice/intro.asp These are always instructive, but I especially thought that her week 39 tip might help. She discusses John Webster’s Duchess of Malfi (if you haven’t seen/read it, do) - and makes reference to the famous speech where the Duchess inverts our expectations to such dramatic effect.

This is often a good idea. When I have a character who isn’t going anywhere and has become about as interesting as an insurance seminar, I make them do something out of character that will surprise the reader. Now I am not suggesting you turn your mild mannered spinster into a drug crazed snow boarding assassin, but perhaps she could have been a spy in the war; or have once been suspected of a terrible crime...

It doesn’t have to be too dramatic, but it will breathe new life into your work and may just get your book back on track.

After all, that’s the ultimate aim: to finish the book and hopefully sell a few copies and perhaps even make enough money to write the second book.

Speaking of getting rich, now where did I leave my bank account details...