My process, my step by step procedure, my technique: I think about these things and can easily sit down and list; write the book, finish the book, edit the book and hey presto you’ve got yourself a novel! Then I come to terms with how untrue that process is, and how most often my ‘process’ varies with each novel, each chapter and every word. Between each of these steps: there's usually a scheduled breakdown or cry. But, in an ode to optimism, I won't include the step: 'cry,' but know that that is probably one of the most essential parts to writing a book.
So, here is my ‘process.’
Step one:
Do absolutely nothing. Seriously. Nothing. Sit in bed, stroke your cat, go for a walk, see your friends, drink an excess amount of coffee, get pissed, stay sober, drive in your car, take the bus, wear a variety of hats for a week, sit in mud, listen to the entire back catalogue of B.B King. Do absolutely anything but sit down and write. Be stubborn. Let the idea come to you. Experience things and disconnect yourself from your writing so the influences from those experiences must be written about. For me writing is not a chore. It is not something I sit down and purposefully do. It catches me out on buses, in my sleep, during a conversation. When the call does come, I answer it obediently; giving into it wholly and allowing it to pour out of me naturally without interference or regret. I allow writing to be a sacrificial and soulful thing I have no control over; that way, my process becomes about the words and not the technicalities.
Step two:
Start writing and don’t stop unless it doesn’t feel right. I monitor my mood. I don’t read back over my work. If I’m feeling a sense of hope and giddiness, I carry on. If there’s a tight feeling on my chest or resting in my stomach, I helplessly abandon the writing and move on. No regret. Writing is primarily an instinctive thing, like a wild animal. Know your surroundings, know your territory, your prey and your strengths/ weaknesses. Trust those instincts: those feelings of weariness and slight bewilderment. Don’t muddle them for bad writing, there really is no such thing. It comes down to timing. Some pieces of work or some ideas, just aren’t right for the time you’re trying to write it in.
Step three:
Get jiggy with your work. It’s usually about this time that I might start struggling with the technicalities that I’ve previously ignored up until this point. I like to chuck everything I can down to get started. I write out of order: sometimes the end or the middle is written before the beginning. It most likely is never the final version of the end or middle, but the basis of the plot is usually there and that’s a huge weight dumped off my head so I can focus on things like character development and tone. At this point I’m usually about a quarter to a half the way through and tend to go back to the beginning to iron out a few of the technicalities I’ve probably fucked up by ploughing on. This part is one of my favourites, as it’s usually the first time I properly read over my work and feel excited about where it’s heading. The more I’ve written, the stronger sense of character and tone I have, so the likelihood is the beginning seems underdeveloped in comparison and I tend to go back there and rewrite bits with a stronger sense of tenor.
Step four:
Celebrate. Perhaps the most integral part of the process is celebrating. Eat some cake, go out for a drink, buy yourself something, pat yourself on the back, smile into the mirror until your cheeks hurt, tell somebody with crazed excitement, throw yourself a party (I’ve done them all). I sit and think about the weight of writing a book and what it actually means. I excitedly stoke the spines of books like a crazy person without inhibition, to remind myself of the reality of my writing. I often forget that the scraps of paper and numerous word documents are the making of that in my hands. It all feels a bit more ‘big’ when I hold a physical book in my hand and remind myself of the final product. Albeit a long way off, it feels important to further dissect myself from my writing and fall further in love with the characters, deeper into the world and harder into the plot. I don’t quite know how I do this, but I try to create characters that make spending time with them the easiest thing I can do.
Step five:
Back to work and don’t stop until you feel like you’re going insane. I say there’s a lot of ‘side effects’ to being a writer. Loss of sleep, talking to yourself, inability to speak in fluid sentences, an overwhelming sense of craziness, displacement from reality, eternal dreaming and an unexplainable amount of hope. You are the only person who can believe in yourself and your work while it is in the fragile stage of being formed and born. As you write, you must have hope and an unbridled amount of belief in yourself to sustain your passion.
That job is made harder by the sense you might be going insane.
Writing a book, or writing in general, is no easy task. Nor is it a straightforward one. You’re likely tearing at your innards and dredging up old sentiments in 100,000 words or less to tell a tale that has been sat inside of you begging to surface for years. So, yes, insanity is part of the deal: embrace it.
Step six:
Have a kitkat. Finish the book and breathe. Most likely this is the first time I’ve breathed in months or weeks. I can finally sit back in the chair, I can usually see things a little clearer and sleep better. I can go back to having normal conversations without stuttering. I can rest a little easier and do things again. This is typically the first time I’ll function properly like a human since the book began- another side effect. That’s all it is, just a symptom of being a writer, embrace it.
This is where I rest; for a day, a week, two weeks, a month. I take whatever time I need, or whatever time my body allows and don’t look at what I’ve written. I might hide the book or purposefully let my mac run out of charge. I try my best not think about it, I might talk of it and how excited I am, but I don’t think about it or what else I could’ve done. I try not to let my mind dwindle and keep a smile on my face.
Step seven:
Get the clipboard out. I print out every chapter and get to editing. My editing process is probably the process that changes the most and I regard as an entirely different process in itself. However, the first time I edit, I look at the chapter as a whole. I consider whether each chapter makes sense and flows to the next. I look for big contextual or plot flaws and smooth out the edges. Then I type up these edits and print out again. This second time, I take each paragraph and look for smaller flaws. Little discrepancies between characters or snags in facts. I ensure I have a balance of both ‘beautiful’ writing and necessary information/ plot. I add and take away but tend to never delete. I save every version, mostly for my own amusement at my progress. Then the third print out, I focus on every single sentence. This gets a little tedious and there are sentences that I read over and over and know will remain in the book. I force myself to read it all and consider whether I need every sentence. I ask what it’s doing for the paragraph and in turn the chapter. Is it factual? Is it funny? Is it important? Does it make sense? If I have even a slight amount of doubt, I get rid. If it needs rewording or replacing due to included information, then I rewrite it often a few times to find the right one. Then the final (it’s never the final) edit where I look at every word and consider its use. Whether it could be a better word or if it is a necessary one.
Writing is a complex thing. Ideas and perhaps the first draft can fall out the sky, but from then, every word is carefully crafted and used for a reason. If there’s no reason for a word, it shouldn’t be in the book. The words must work as a team; if one is slacking it’ll be dropped and benched from the team. I see myself as a coach for those words; egging them on and aligning them into their perfect positions, putting their practice into play to win or be the best they can be.
Step eight:
You guessed it, edit! I learnt the hard way how important editing is. Essentially 17 odd of my 20 novels aren’t edited properly and are very muchly still in their first, foetal stages. This is mostly due to being out of control of my writing and ploughing onto the next idea before finishing and fine tuning the previous one. I’ve taught myself to be ruthless, to further disconnect myself from my writing and don’t take it personal when I delete a whole chunk. The aim is to write the best book that you can possibly write. To reach the very end and to push yourself until you physically cannot look at your work objectively anymore; knowing you’ve done all you can to make it the best it can possibly be. This means editing until you don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. I find this bit the hardest, as I struggle to push out the bits I’ve deleted from my mind and remember what I’ve kept in and changed; as there’s been so many versions I forget which is relevant. Still, I tend to take a small break and look at my work with fresh eyes. I consider my work as a reader and not a writer. I think about what a reader would want. I try as much as possible to make the first three chapters as hooking and engaging as I can. Up until this point I’ve been selfish with my writing and written for myself, now I consider what readers would want and think about the book as a whole thing rather than bit by bit.
The next steps are publishing, or letting it live on a shelf for years, or giving it to a friend- whatever you wish to do with it.
I feel like I’m lying writing that list, as every novel really does change. That was the process for my last novel and I usually tend to mould my previous process for the next one, but it usually ends up changing drastically anyway.
I get emotional during the process, as though my writing was a hormonal habit. I cry often. I get frustrated and angry. But I also get very giddy and excitable.
I tend to think about being a kid at this point in the process, and congratulate the little girl who kept writing and didn’t give up. I think that’s important too. Congratulate yourself. You’ve just written a fucking book!!!
Stay groovy,
Kitty.