DAY TWENTY SEVEN
Over the last two weeks I've really knuckled down and put in some hours researching my novel. It's been quite interesting and not at all laborious thankfully, but it has raised a few questions.
For example: how much research should one do? when do you determine that you have researched enough in order to produce a realistic and reasonably accurate piece of writing? what do you put in? what do you leave out?
I am writing a work of fiction, but these days, readers demand a higher level of believability and accuracy from novels. In the modern day, the crime reading community have an increased knowledge about police procedurals, criminal activities and forensic science than ever before thanks to films, TV and literature. Therefore, even if you are writing fiction, there is a necessary amount of research to be done to satisfy hard core crime fiction fans and keep them reading your work. Added to that, I am sure it is every crime writer's dream to have someone in the know, be it a policeman, detective, or even a criminal, comment that the writer's novel is realistic and believable.
So how much is enough? To tell you the truth, I have no idea. Do too little and even if you have written a good story, it can be let down by errors and implausibilities that turn the reader off. However, do too much and you run the risk of spending too much time researching and not enough time writing. And there is also the risk of including information from your research that might not be relevant in order to justify the time (and money) spent. Information overload can also get up a reader's nose, especially if it fails to move the plot along.
So how much is enough? For me, I've decided that I will research as much as is necessary in order to give myself the confidence and the knowledge to write the story I want to write. And write a cracking good one too!
I also think that when I take off my writing hat and put on my reading cap, I will be able to identify those areas in my work that need further research to increase the believability factor or double check the detail. That's the theory anyway.
And I keep thinking back to what George Pelecanos said - for your first novel, remove all barriers. Make the first attempt as easy as you can. In terms of research, this means, in my opinion, to scale down the scope of your research; do enough to fill in those big holes in your knowledge; use it to refine your plot and character profiles and then get on with the writing.
In the end, you DO NOT want to use research as an excuse to delay sitting down in front of that blank page and starting your novel. And don't worry, I plan to practice what I preach.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
A3 Plotting
DAY NINE
The first draft of my novel's plot is complete. Well, not 100% complete - I don't actually know how it's going to end yet - but complete enough to begin some research.
Despite what Stephen King says about plotting (i.e. don't do it), I thought it was best for me to have a go at drafting up a plot. Being my first novel, I think I need at least a basic story blueprint laid out before me. I don't think I am at the stage where I can just take a concept and write down whatever comes to mind (although, that does sound appealing). I probably could, but it would be rubbish. So call me "Plot Boy". For now.
There are two extremes to plotting - the detailed method and the "back of a napkin" method. The former involves sitting down and mapping out every little event that occurs in the novel, every conversation, every disaster or tragedy, falling just short of writing out the prose. The latter is a scratchy, incomplete scribble that barely rises above an idea - maybe it just describes a situation - and you go from there and see where it takes you. They both have pros and cons - mainly being: the former gives you direction, while the latter is much more fun.
Bearing in mind that this is my first novel and that I want to inject some fun into the process, I decided to go for an in-between approach with slight leanings towards the detailed method.
I grabbed a blank page of A3 photocopy paper from work and got started, writing every weekday morning for a week and a bit. I decided to write down everything that came to mind, leaving out the detail, but making sure things made sense, fitted together and did not contradict. At least the same amount of ideas came out of my head during those eight days as compared to the previous eight months when the story was banging around in my head.
So after eight days: both sides of the A3 paper were filled with a general chronological plot and notes on motivations, side plots, questions to be answered, etc, etc. It's detailed, quite detailed, but there is also plenty of room left (in the plot, not on the page) to go off on a tangent if I so wish to. And there is the fact that the final fifth of the novel is nowhere to be seen. I'm leaving that until later. How much later will depend on how confident I become.
The whole experience was very satisfying and of course, fun. I recommend plotting on A3 paper, it helps capture the whole plot on one page - a kind of snapshot - that you can return to for adjustments or just to refresh your memory. I used little boxes - like a basic flow chart - to chart the progression of the story. Writing in pencil is obviously preferable as there will be plenty of changes to be made when better ideas form in your mind.
I suppose my original concern was that a detailed plot would soak up all the fun and excitement of writing the actual novel (hence where the napkin approach works better). However, after finishing my first draft, I can tell you that not only was the exercise exciting, a plot is such a dynamic thing that no one knows what will actually happen when I start typing away at Chapter One.
Now, I must change hats - Plot Boy becomes Research Boy (and I don't mean a lad from Victoria's north eastern suburbs).
The first draft of my novel's plot is complete. Well, not 100% complete - I don't actually know how it's going to end yet - but complete enough to begin some research.
Despite what Stephen King says about plotting (i.e. don't do it), I thought it was best for me to have a go at drafting up a plot. Being my first novel, I think I need at least a basic story blueprint laid out before me. I don't think I am at the stage where I can just take a concept and write down whatever comes to mind (although, that does sound appealing). I probably could, but it would be rubbish. So call me "Plot Boy". For now.
There are two extremes to plotting - the detailed method and the "back of a napkin" method. The former involves sitting down and mapping out every little event that occurs in the novel, every conversation, every disaster or tragedy, falling just short of writing out the prose. The latter is a scratchy, incomplete scribble that barely rises above an idea - maybe it just describes a situation - and you go from there and see where it takes you. They both have pros and cons - mainly being: the former gives you direction, while the latter is much more fun.
Bearing in mind that this is my first novel and that I want to inject some fun into the process, I decided to go for an in-between approach with slight leanings towards the detailed method.
I grabbed a blank page of A3 photocopy paper from work and got started, writing every weekday morning for a week and a bit. I decided to write down everything that came to mind, leaving out the detail, but making sure things made sense, fitted together and did not contradict. At least the same amount of ideas came out of my head during those eight days as compared to the previous eight months when the story was banging around in my head.
So after eight days: both sides of the A3 paper were filled with a general chronological plot and notes on motivations, side plots, questions to be answered, etc, etc. It's detailed, quite detailed, but there is also plenty of room left (in the plot, not on the page) to go off on a tangent if I so wish to. And there is the fact that the final fifth of the novel is nowhere to be seen. I'm leaving that until later. How much later will depend on how confident I become.
The whole experience was very satisfying and of course, fun. I recommend plotting on A3 paper, it helps capture the whole plot on one page - a kind of snapshot - that you can return to for adjustments or just to refresh your memory. I used little boxes - like a basic flow chart - to chart the progression of the story. Writing in pencil is obviously preferable as there will be plenty of changes to be made when better ideas form in your mind.
I suppose my original concern was that a detailed plot would soak up all the fun and excitement of writing the actual novel (hence where the napkin approach works better). However, after finishing my first draft, I can tell you that not only was the exercise exciting, a plot is such a dynamic thing that no one knows what will actually happen when I start typing away at Chapter One.
Now, I must change hats - Plot Boy becomes Research Boy (and I don't mean a lad from Victoria's north eastern suburbs).
Friday, January 12, 2007
And It Begins!!
Ominously, I typed up this blog last Friday, but it would not "publish". Not that I'm superstitious or anything. (whimper)
DAY ONE
A momentous day like today deserves more blog time, but unfortunately I'm running late for some panto.
Today was momentous because today I began my novel. With teeth gritted and buttocks clenched, I arose from bed this morning as the alarm went off and without pause, discarded my misgivings and fears, and headed for my desk and computer.
There was no fanfare or cutting of the ribbon; I just sat down, turned my computer on and let the fingers do the talking.
I was pretty excited though.
First, I came up with a provisional title for my novel. Every novel should have a title from the very beginning - it gives it an identity. I mean, after all, this is my baby and you can't have a baby without naming it. I'll change its name by deed poll later on - the natural course in the life of a novel.
Next, I wrote up a very brief synopsis. This is handy so as to keep the "thrust" (panto style) of the novel in focus. Of course, this can change too, as the novel evolves.
I must say it was fun writing the synopsis: it was like drafting up the blurb that may appear on the final product – very exciting indeed.
So I’ve started; I’ve broken the seal. Now let the words come flooding out.
Oh, I suppose you would like to know what the provisional title of the novel is. Okay, fair enough. It’s – oh damn, look at the time – I’m late for panto!!!
(sniggers off into the distance).
DAY ONE
A momentous day like today deserves more blog time, but unfortunately I'm running late for some panto.
Today was momentous because today I began my novel. With teeth gritted and buttocks clenched, I arose from bed this morning as the alarm went off and without pause, discarded my misgivings and fears, and headed for my desk and computer.
There was no fanfare or cutting of the ribbon; I just sat down, turned my computer on and let the fingers do the talking.
I was pretty excited though.
First, I came up with a provisional title for my novel. Every novel should have a title from the very beginning - it gives it an identity. I mean, after all, this is my baby and you can't have a baby without naming it. I'll change its name by deed poll later on - the natural course in the life of a novel.
Next, I wrote up a very brief synopsis. This is handy so as to keep the "thrust" (panto style) of the novel in focus. Of course, this can change too, as the novel evolves.
I must say it was fun writing the synopsis: it was like drafting up the blurb that may appear on the final product – very exciting indeed.
So I’ve started; I’ve broken the seal. Now let the words come flooding out.
Oh, I suppose you would like to know what the provisional title of the novel is. Okay, fair enough. It’s – oh damn, look at the time – I’m late for panto!!!
(sniggers off into the distance).
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Yesterday: Sick; Today: Scared
I'm back! Did you miss me? No? Fine, don't worry about it then.
Nevertheless, I'm back from a one-day forced sickie (and yes, I was sick). A bout of the local flu had me in all sorts on Tuesday and yesterday, I woke feeling horrid. So I stayed home and didn't get up to much at all. Except a bit of thinking.
This morning, the alarm went off at 6.30. It was time to get back into my (ir)regular writing routine. And this morning, it was time to do that one thing I've been wanting to start for over two years. Yes! My novel!!
But I didn't get up. Yes, I still wasn't 100% healthy and yes, I was more than a little bit tired and yes, the bed was sooo warm and toasty. But there was also a part of me that didn't get up because I was just a little bit scared.
This confirmed my thinking from the previous day. It had been in the afternoon. I was lying there on the couch with my runny nose, sore throat and head full of phlegm and I was thinking about my novel. As mentioned above, I have made the decision to start my first novel ASAP. My rationale is that I would like to be published in the U.K. and I'm not sure how much longer we will be staying here.
So, I thought to myself, I better get cracking! To hell with the preamble and preparation and all that rubbish; let's get started!
Then I thought - what I will do first is re-read Stephen King's On Writing and my course notes on novel writing and make a few more notes, some kind of guidance or crib sheets to keep me on track.
And then it hit me: I was dancing around my handbag. I was procrastinating. I was delaying that moment when I would have to sit down and start the novel.
Because I am scared.
The same thing happened this morning. I planned to get up and get started, but part of me was frightened.
Frightened that I won't know where to start. Frightened that I won't be able to write a single coherent word. Frightened that my novel is going to be rubbish. Frightened that it will become all too clear that I can't cut the mustard when it comes to writing novels. Frightened that I will be forced to live out my days as a lowly accountant.
Frightened of failure when it all boils down to it.
I know the remedy for this "Novelophobia" is to just get on with it and start writing (tonight, damn you!) but it's making me very anxious indeed.
Obviously all authors go through it, either on their first novel, their second (due to the expectation attached to it) or every novel they write. But that doesn't make me feel better.
How do I overcome it?!
One idea is to just have fun with it. One of things that I wanted to ensure when writing this novel is to enjoy it; enjoy the process of writing. If I don't have at least some fun writing a novel then, well, it ain't worth it.
So, maybe, that's where I should start - drop the pressure, discard all the self imposed rules and just enjoy it. That should be easy, as I am such a carefree, easy going kinda guy whose troubles are like water off a duck's back. Yeah, just have fun with it. No need to be scared at all.
Not . . . scared . . . at . . . all.
(cough)
Mummy!!! I want my mummy!!!
Nevertheless, I'm back from a one-day forced sickie (and yes, I was sick). A bout of the local flu had me in all sorts on Tuesday and yesterday, I woke feeling horrid. So I stayed home and didn't get up to much at all. Except a bit of thinking.
This morning, the alarm went off at 6.30. It was time to get back into my (ir)regular writing routine. And this morning, it was time to do that one thing I've been wanting to start for over two years. Yes! My novel!!
But I didn't get up. Yes, I still wasn't 100% healthy and yes, I was more than a little bit tired and yes, the bed was sooo warm and toasty. But there was also a part of me that didn't get up because I was just a little bit scared.
This confirmed my thinking from the previous day. It had been in the afternoon. I was lying there on the couch with my runny nose, sore throat and head full of phlegm and I was thinking about my novel. As mentioned above, I have made the decision to start my first novel ASAP. My rationale is that I would like to be published in the U.K. and I'm not sure how much longer we will be staying here.
So, I thought to myself, I better get cracking! To hell with the preamble and preparation and all that rubbish; let's get started!
Then I thought - what I will do first is re-read Stephen King's On Writing and my course notes on novel writing and make a few more notes, some kind of guidance or crib sheets to keep me on track.
And then it hit me: I was dancing around my handbag. I was procrastinating. I was delaying that moment when I would have to sit down and start the novel.
Because I am scared.
The same thing happened this morning. I planned to get up and get started, but part of me was frightened.
Frightened that I won't know where to start. Frightened that I won't be able to write a single coherent word. Frightened that my novel is going to be rubbish. Frightened that it will become all too clear that I can't cut the mustard when it comes to writing novels. Frightened that I will be forced to live out my days as a lowly accountant.
Frightened of failure when it all boils down to it.
I know the remedy for this "Novelophobia" is to just get on with it and start writing (tonight, damn you!) but it's making me very anxious indeed.
Obviously all authors go through it, either on their first novel, their second (due to the expectation attached to it) or every novel they write. But that doesn't make me feel better.
How do I overcome it?!
One idea is to just have fun with it. One of things that I wanted to ensure when writing this novel is to enjoy it; enjoy the process of writing. If I don't have at least some fun writing a novel then, well, it ain't worth it.
So, maybe, that's where I should start - drop the pressure, discard all the self imposed rules and just enjoy it. That should be easy, as I am such a carefree, easy going kinda guy whose troubles are like water off a duck's back. Yeah, just have fun with it. No need to be scared at all.
Not . . . scared . . . at . . . all.
(cough)
Mummy!!! I want my mummy!!!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Doing a Lionel
This week has been a bit of a write off (pun intended). Getting up in the morning to do my daily slog has been an impossible task.
The alarm goes off at 630am and it wakes me up (which is an unusual occurrence to say the least - it usually means I'm really tired). But I don't get up. I roll over, turning my back, ignoring the incessant beeping. Or I reach over and the turn the damn thing off.
Half an hour later, The Jingo's moby starts dancing its little dance to its little tune and I want to wring its little neck. Jingo checks her messages and rolls over, back to sleep. I roll over too.
By eight, I've checked my watch enough times to realise its time to get up and I slowly rise from my bed. At this stage, it's quite obvious that there will be no writing this morning; in fact, I better get my arse into gear or I'll miss work!
All because I did a Lionel.
By the time I struggle through the working day, fighting to keep my eyes open as I slave away in front of a life draining spreadsheet, I am dead to the world. As I walk through my front door, it all hits me, and I'm good for nothing more than EA Cricket and NYPD Blue.
All because I did a Lionel in Norfolk last weekend.
Last Saturday night: over a half a litre of Jim Beam in my guts, its affects swimming in my head; a murder mystery solved and a Jenga set toppled; a full list of Ipod tunes delved through and played until the cows came home (and a bunch of angry cows they were too - "Shouldn't you be in bed?! Why are you playing S Club 7? Are you mad?!!!), all topped off with a very early morning clean up (around a very still Pablo - I think he was playing Statues) and three pints of water.
Starting time: 730pm. Finishing time: 830am.
Yep, I did a Lionel.
The alarm goes off at 630am and it wakes me up (which is an unusual occurrence to say the least - it usually means I'm really tired). But I don't get up. I roll over, turning my back, ignoring the incessant beeping. Or I reach over and the turn the damn thing off.
Half an hour later, The Jingo's moby starts dancing its little dance to its little tune and I want to wring its little neck. Jingo checks her messages and rolls over, back to sleep. I roll over too.
By eight, I've checked my watch enough times to realise its time to get up and I slowly rise from my bed. At this stage, it's quite obvious that there will be no writing this morning; in fact, I better get my arse into gear or I'll miss work!
All because I did a Lionel.
By the time I struggle through the working day, fighting to keep my eyes open as I slave away in front of a life draining spreadsheet, I am dead to the world. As I walk through my front door, it all hits me, and I'm good for nothing more than EA Cricket and NYPD Blue.
All because I did a Lionel in Norfolk last weekend.
Last Saturday night: over a half a litre of Jim Beam in my guts, its affects swimming in my head; a murder mystery solved and a Jenga set toppled; a full list of Ipod tunes delved through and played until the cows came home (and a bunch of angry cows they were too - "Shouldn't you be in bed?! Why are you playing S Club 7? Are you mad?!!!), all topped off with a very early morning clean up (around a very still Pablo - I think he was playing Statues) and three pints of water.
Starting time: 730pm. Finishing time: 830am.
Yep, I did a Lionel.
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