It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a novel in need of a publisher must be in want of a third draft.
So there it is. Sitting on my desk, feeling all pleased with itself.
487 sheets of yellow A4. A prologue, 33 chapters and an epilogue. 97,000 words. 43 weeks’ work.
And it’s still not finished.
On Tuesday evening I pressed the “print” button and sat back for much of the following hour as page after page were spewed from my printer.
For the following ten days, that’s where it will stay. A brooding presence; a splinter in the finger of life.
The plan is that I put the novel aside for ten days so that when I return to it, it will be with fresh eyes. That’s the plan. The reality is that we’ve moved beyond that point. That was all well and good for the first draft; that white livered prissy relation. The first draft was quite happy to sit out the ten day cooling off period, like the fourth sister in Pride and Prejudice, fully aware she’s never going to be asked to dance and so sits there quietly watching but not taking part.
But time has moved on.
The second draft is an altogether different proposition. The second draft is more like Elizabeth Bennet, Austen’s striking prototype feminist who knows her own mind and will not be bowed by her parents’ wishes.
While I know I will leave the second draft alone for ten days, I also know it won’t be easy. It’s sitting there now; aware of its stature while knowing that it’s not quite the finished article. It still needs me to complete it - just as Lizzie needed Darcy to help make her all she could be - but it’s not going to sit there quietly.
It’s on my mind throughout the day: could the first chapter do with just one more re-write; is the prologue “there” yet; does character B arrive early enough; can I afford the ink it takes to print another draft? These are the questions that dance around my head like characters from a Regency ball.
None of this is helped by the fact that the weather has suddenly gone all hot and humid. I’m never at my best in hot weather; it seems to melt my ability to concentrate. Perhaps, before my wife returns home from work, I might go for a quick dip in the lake.
Of course, I’ll be needing my wife’s help soon. She’ll be the first person to read the novel and I need her to be able to remain fully focused. So it’s probably better not to mention those two words that have been known to buckle her knees and start her incoherently babbling.
...and what are those two words? Second draft? New novel? My husband? No alcohol?!
Sadly not (although the last one comes close).
They are, of course, Colin Firth.
Friday 25 July 2008
Friday 18 July 2008
Week 43 - Chic(ken) Lit
This week I have written a chapter of my book.
Nothing out of the ordinary there, except for one thing: I already had all my chapters completed and have spent the last five weeks editing and refining my second draft.
During this process it became clear that the book was missing a certain something. At first it was difficult to pin down the missing ingredient; a bit like when you fancy some fried chicken, there’s no Colonel Sanders emporium to hand, so you end up in one of those “southern fried chicken” places. It should taste the same, but it doesn’t; and besides, even the flies look nervous.
And so it was with my novel. Finally I realised that there needed to be an extra scene to bridge some action and act as a conduit for my plot to travel down.
So I started to write the scene…and write…and write. Before you could say, “Of course I’ll go large on the three piece meal,” I had written a long chapter. What’s more, it was great to get back to creating. The editing process is fine in its own way, but there’s nothing like creating something from scratch. It was fun to return to my characters and send them in just one more direction.
Now that’s done – I have reached the end of my second draft. At the end of the weekend, I will be printing it out and then placing it in my bottom drawer for ten days before I embark on the final draft.
Another part of my 52-week journey is over and the final one is about to begin. But before the work of the final draft, there are a few days to enjoy the completion of my second draft. I just need to decide how to celebrate.
Anyone for a Bargain Bucket?
Nothing out of the ordinary there, except for one thing: I already had all my chapters completed and have spent the last five weeks editing and refining my second draft.
During this process it became clear that the book was missing a certain something. At first it was difficult to pin down the missing ingredient; a bit like when you fancy some fried chicken, there’s no Colonel Sanders emporium to hand, so you end up in one of those “southern fried chicken” places. It should taste the same, but it doesn’t; and besides, even the flies look nervous.
And so it was with my novel. Finally I realised that there needed to be an extra scene to bridge some action and act as a conduit for my plot to travel down.
So I started to write the scene…and write…and write. Before you could say, “Of course I’ll go large on the three piece meal,” I had written a long chapter. What’s more, it was great to get back to creating. The editing process is fine in its own way, but there’s nothing like creating something from scratch. It was fun to return to my characters and send them in just one more direction.
Now that’s done – I have reached the end of my second draft. At the end of the weekend, I will be printing it out and then placing it in my bottom drawer for ten days before I embark on the final draft.
Another part of my 52-week journey is over and the final one is about to begin. But before the work of the final draft, there are a few days to enjoy the completion of my second draft. I just need to decide how to celebrate.
Anyone for a Bargain Bucket?
Friday 11 July 2008
Week 42 - Mobile Anticipation
On Tuesday morning I received a text message from my mobile phone provider to tell me that Apple’s new iPhone would be available to order from 8am. The new phone would be sold on a strictly first come first served basis, as demand was expected to be high.
I read the text, thought about all those people who would be besides themselves with excitement, and then went back to work.
That afternoon one of the news sites I subscribe to had a story about O2’s website crashing due to the millions of people trying to order the new phone. The company soon issued a statement saying that due to unprecedented high demand, there was essentially little chance of getting your hands on the new phone over the coming weeks, but the wait would be worth it.
Picture those gadget obsessed tecno-geeks (I know - those in glass houses...). They must have had their day/week/life ruined by that message.
Why? Because anticipation is a powerful master. It can turn normally sane people into gibbering wrecks. I once attended a launch party for Apple's Tiger operating system and one of the tie in treats was a bottle of Tiger beer. The only catch was that you had to roar like a tiger to get your hands on the drink. As I was weighing up personal dignity versus alcohol, my wife brushed me to one side, made a noise that could have got her the next Frosties commercial and promptly grabbed the beer.
The anticipation had got to her and she went to lengths beyond her normal character to get something she could have bought for 75 pence at the local supermarket (then again, the fact it was alcohol may have been the bigger motivator).
The point is that we like to be teased a little and have our sense of anticipation raised, but there has to be a satisfactory conclusion; we need to be sated. This is equally important in the books we read, arguably nowhere more so that in the crime novel.
Can you imagine reading The Murder on the Orient Express to find the final pages missing? Torment unimaginable. Similarly, would we mourn the unfinished state of Dickens’ last novel so much if it hadn’t been a prototype murder mystery?
The fact we need to bear in mind is that the reader wants to be teased; they want to have the carrot of crime dangled in front of them as we lead them through the byways of our plot; but they want...they need...they demand that they get to eat that carrot before the end of the book.
I was reminded of this duty to deliver on the unwritten contract between reader and author, as I was writing an additional scene during the final stages of my second draft. The book seemed to be lacking the level of anticipation that would keep a reader turning the pages and I realised why. So this week I added the scene and set up another level of anticipation.
All I need to do now is deliver on my promises later in the novel by adding another scene that offers the right level of resolution.
Hopefully, by the time the novel is published, everyone who reads it will feel happy at the outcome.
Even the techno-geeks, who might have got their new phone by then.
I read the text, thought about all those people who would be besides themselves with excitement, and then went back to work.
That afternoon one of the news sites I subscribe to had a story about O2’s website crashing due to the millions of people trying to order the new phone. The company soon issued a statement saying that due to unprecedented high demand, there was essentially little chance of getting your hands on the new phone over the coming weeks, but the wait would be worth it.
Picture those gadget obsessed tecno-geeks (I know - those in glass houses...). They must have had their day/week/life ruined by that message.
Why? Because anticipation is a powerful master. It can turn normally sane people into gibbering wrecks. I once attended a launch party for Apple's Tiger operating system and one of the tie in treats was a bottle of Tiger beer. The only catch was that you had to roar like a tiger to get your hands on the drink. As I was weighing up personal dignity versus alcohol, my wife brushed me to one side, made a noise that could have got her the next Frosties commercial and promptly grabbed the beer.
The anticipation had got to her and she went to lengths beyond her normal character to get something she could have bought for 75 pence at the local supermarket (then again, the fact it was alcohol may have been the bigger motivator).
The point is that we like to be teased a little and have our sense of anticipation raised, but there has to be a satisfactory conclusion; we need to be sated. This is equally important in the books we read, arguably nowhere more so that in the crime novel.
Can you imagine reading The Murder on the Orient Express to find the final pages missing? Torment unimaginable. Similarly, would we mourn the unfinished state of Dickens’ last novel so much if it hadn’t been a prototype murder mystery?
The fact we need to bear in mind is that the reader wants to be teased; they want to have the carrot of crime dangled in front of them as we lead them through the byways of our plot; but they want...they need...they demand that they get to eat that carrot before the end of the book.
I was reminded of this duty to deliver on the unwritten contract between reader and author, as I was writing an additional scene during the final stages of my second draft. The book seemed to be lacking the level of anticipation that would keep a reader turning the pages and I realised why. So this week I added the scene and set up another level of anticipation.
All I need to do now is deliver on my promises later in the novel by adding another scene that offers the right level of resolution.
Hopefully, by the time the novel is published, everyone who reads it will feel happy at the outcome.
Even the techno-geeks, who might have got their new phone by then.
Friday 4 July 2008
Week 41 - Back to Square One
Now that I have turned 40 (that’s weeks of the blog) and I am beginning to head towards the end of my novel, I thought that there was an obvious topic for this week.
Beginnings.
Last weekend I reached the end of my second draft a whole two weeks ahead of schedule (probably helped by the early exit from Wimbledon of a certain female Russian player). It was time to sit back and take stock. What do I actually think of my novel now it’s in a second draft form?
It’s better - much better - than the first draft; but then again, I’m a better fast bowler than my Grandmother was...it’s all relative....
While the book has certainly improved, it is clearly not “there” yet. The early chapters still seem to be in need of some work; probably as they were written first, they’re not of the same standard as the later chapters.
I have also identified three new scenes that need to be written, which I plan to do over the next ten days.
But most striking of all is the prologue. We all know how important the beginning of a novel is, which is probably why I have re-written the prologue EIGHT times.
Last week marked re-write number nine. Interestingly, I did not exactly re-write it as cut huge chunks from it. It has gone from 1500 words to around 400...and the odd thing is that it’s about three times better. Go figure, as the Americans say.
Kate Mosse discusses how important the start of a book/chapter is and uses examples such as George Orwell’s 1984 (for my money his Coming Up For Air has the best opening line in literature) http://www.mosselabyrinth.co.uk/advice/15.asp
My prologue is certainly not up there with the likes of Orwell and Dickens, but after it’s ninth re-write it’s getting there.
And that’s a beginning.
Beginnings.
Last weekend I reached the end of my second draft a whole two weeks ahead of schedule (probably helped by the early exit from Wimbledon of a certain female Russian player). It was time to sit back and take stock. What do I actually think of my novel now it’s in a second draft form?
It’s better - much better - than the first draft; but then again, I’m a better fast bowler than my Grandmother was...it’s all relative....
While the book has certainly improved, it is clearly not “there” yet. The early chapters still seem to be in need of some work; probably as they were written first, they’re not of the same standard as the later chapters.
I have also identified three new scenes that need to be written, which I plan to do over the next ten days.
But most striking of all is the prologue. We all know how important the beginning of a novel is, which is probably why I have re-written the prologue EIGHT times.
Last week marked re-write number nine. Interestingly, I did not exactly re-write it as cut huge chunks from it. It has gone from 1500 words to around 400...and the odd thing is that it’s about three times better. Go figure, as the Americans say.
Kate Mosse discusses how important the start of a book/chapter is and uses examples such as George Orwell’s 1984 (for my money his Coming Up For Air has the best opening line in literature) http://www.mosselabyrinth.co.uk/advice/15.asp
My prologue is certainly not up there with the likes of Orwell and Dickens, but after it’s ninth re-write it’s getting there.
And that’s a beginning.
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