Developing as a Writer
Lesson 2 - Where to Focus
In Week Two we are going to start zooming in and examining some key areas publishers like Indie Novella look out for when deciding to commission a novel. Deciding whether or not to take on a manuscript is a really difficult decision and often there is no formula. It’s more a question of resources because as a publisher you have to read the manuscript multiple times, spend hours working with the author honing the plot, themes and the language. There’s not enough time in a month to work on even two manuscripts at the same time. Therefore we run through common critiques that come up and where we suggest authors consider honing before sending a manuscript out into the world.
Being too clinical
Here’s where attending all the writing courses and reading all the blogs on how to get an agent or write the right opening do not pay dividends. Sometimes a novel can feel too well constructed and that it feels like all the excitement and inventiveness have been removed and as a reader, while agreeing it’s probably good writing, I’m not 100% sure why I’m reading it. There’s nothing precisely which makes me want to put it down, it’s just that I’ve just bought Eliza Clark’s Boy Parts and would prefer to spend this time reading that.
Again, when reading all those novel-writing books we can fall into the trap of writing something too polished – too sensible and rational – that there’s not enough of us within the pages. Us as writers trying to connect to a reader. When I wrote Joined Up, that was partially a story of mental health told from lived experience. To avoid being too clinical, I would recommend some level of psychoanalysis to understand what you as a writer are bringing to the table outside of plot, story and structure. What, in the depths of your own character, can you throw in to your made-up characters, and not just the good bits you want to show to the world. What’s the worst thing you’ve done? How did it make you feel? Can you use this to connect with your reader?
It's no coincidence that some of the best novels cover so much ground emotionally. Derek Owusu’s novel That Reminds Me uses so much introspection being the story of a young child growing into adulthood while negotiating impossibly difficult circumstances. Deborah Levy’s autobiography Things I Don’t Want to Know describes her state of mind when she was about to pen Swimming Home, her first novel in almost 20 years, and though you can hardly call Swimming Home autobiographical, you can tell there was something personal within it and I think it is that connection which makes it such a great book.
What do you have to say?
Leading on from the above, it is important to remember that a novel is something which never happened but feels true. And this comes down to the skill of the writer. Above, we essentially touched on the subject of writing what you know. As demonstrated by Deborah Levy, this doesn’t need to be memoir – it’s more, what feels important to you? Is there urgency, passion, and a desperate need to communicate a certain story?
Jumping back to Week 1, sometimes our novel can benefit from really examining the story you want to tell. Understanding what your novel is about and articulating that to the reader. In the opening scenes the reader feels the novel is about a particular type of character going through this particular stage in life and about to encounter this particular dilemma. Your novel could have a great, well thought out plot but what is the thematic answer to what is your book about? What themes run through your book? What’s the big theme that runs hand in hand with your plot? Is there one?
Does your novel set out a problem or mystery or even a question which needs to be resolved? Is there a purpose? What is it? And how does it differ from all the other novels? Not intending to dishearten you, but the rise of creative writing courses means the standard arriving in submissions piles is higher than 10 years ago. Therefore be bold in what you have to say – in your prose and in your purpose. Formulate it clearly. In those opening pages make the reader feel, ‘Ah this is going somewhere.’ Remember, a novel is more than its plot. What’s yours about? What’s that good idea that drove you to sit down and pen it? Write to your natural voice, write to your strengths. Don’t feel forced to write what doesn’t come naturally. That isn’t enjoyable. Embrace what you can do well.
Plot vs ‘Good Writing’
We spent a significant part of Week 1 discussing structure and here’s why: so many novels end up not taken on even if the writing itself is amazing. I really admire writers with a gift for prose and metaphors. However, as an editor, I’m more keen to find out what the story is about. I want to know what’s going on, what the dynamics are between the characters, what it is I am reading and why I am reading it. I admire good writing, but I do have to put it down at times if I’m not starting to see where it is going. If this sounds like you, it might be time to hone yourself in.
How do you keep a story moving to a satisfying ending? Some novels that engage us at first then lose their way. Get that balance between prose and story. A lot of writing courses and writing groups focus on prose where we discuss the first 1000 words but struggle to scale beautiful writing up and create that beautiful novel. So really work on that structure and have a plot written down, because a novel is also drawing a reader into your story through your writing and having them feel like they are part of something bigger. So if you are more keen to write in a stream of consciousness manner, in love with prose, go back to Week 1 and think what important moments your story will be built around and what ‘boxes’ you can make to bring it together. But prose and language is still hugely important, as we shall now see.
But also, are you trying too hard?
Or does it read like you are trying too hard? Because simple and effortless takes so much hard work. Are you trying to make your funny bits too funny by overdoing your joke or lingering longer on it than you should so you really make sure the reader gets the irony? Are your suspense and tension sentences a little too on the nose? Addressing this and addressing the point above takes time. A whole heap of time! This is where the real work goes in. Rewriting is not about trying to write 4000 words a day and editing is not sitting down and reading through half your manuscript in one sitting. It is about spending a whole afternoon on little more than 100 words. Making sure they are inch perfect. No matter where in the novel they are.
Narrative voice vs action, action, action
We want stuff happening in a novel but stuff by itself is just a mash of plotting and doesn’t really engage a reader. Novels are about storytelling and the how you bring your reader into your story. People often throw out the term Good Writing indiscriminately but to me this refers to the narrative voice. Imagine sitting in a pub or coffee shop with a friend who tells you the story of a disastrous date. Sometimes it is not the story itself which is rememberable but how your friend was self-deprecating, asked rhetorical questions, questioned what they or the other person was thinking, paused at the right moment, confidently brought you up to speed on the situation, and so on. Contrast this with a less confident storyteller who is more focused on just saying the person told a series of inappropriate jokes, ordered soup rather than a sharing plate and then spilt some wine, etc. The story is there but you are going to move the subject on in a matter of minutes - probably a minute – whereas with the first friend you’ll be listening to them most of the night, referring to that incident years later. So, in each chapter focus on who your storyteller is and ask yourself if they shine as much as they could.
A story changes depending on who is telling it. Consider your narrator as your most important character, particular in the third-person, where you can fall into the trap of not thinking of them as a character at all, just the means through which you tell your story. That’s probably the biggest pitfall I see from a publisher’s perspective. It is easier with first-person to let the character of the narrator shine through, but it is also needed with the third-person (and second-person). What is your narrator good at talking about? What do they want to avoid? When writing a first-person narrative you have to stay in character and approach subjects like that character would i.e. would a middle aged man talk openly about his feelings or even the subject of sex? But the reader will understand this and be able to fill in those gaps. The fact that a character can’t say something doesn’t mean the reader won’t know what is going on. The reader can tell that the narrator is unreliable by the interactions with the other characters even though you only hear one point of view.
A first-person narrative feels more immediate and you can improvise. Multiple first-person is tricky as you have to exaggerate the differences in narrative voices (or with first-person-plural when you write from a community). With third-person the narrative voice still takes on your character’s attitudes and view of the world. Taking another David Nicholl’s novel, One Day, the novel cleverly even hops at times to smaller characters, just occasionally, to go to the ‘other side of the room’, so to say, and look back at your main character through another character’s eyes. For the roving third-person-close voice, you are observing the world with a character but not through their eyes. You move around between a handful of characters so you have the panoramic quality of an omniscient voice but also a close-up quality. Damon Galgut’s The Promise is a perfect example where you see the world through the characters’ eyes but the narrative is also passed around and also reflects the story as it focuses on a society which is broken, where everyone has an opinion on what it should be.
And as we said on our previous writing course, changing the 'He' to 'I' does not turn a third-person book into a first-person book. You have to consider what happens to the self-awareness, the observations the narrator makes about the character. It should be a very different story if you were to change from 'He' to 'I' as the narrative voice – the storyteller – is different.
Language and Importance of Reading Widely
One piece of advice writers give other writers is to read widely. It may sound a little old hat and not that helpful, but here’s why. And here’s what you can do if, like me, you’re a methodical reader (or have a busy day job) who takes eight weeks to get through a novel.
What moments of a story do you focus in on and how do you separate the important from the everyday? In a novel, how do we look at fate and fatalism? The easiest answer to this is to read through a selection of other writers and see what decisions they made, what choices they made, and see what we can pick up to support our own novel, be it the structure, the pacing, or the language.
By reading widely and variously we can ask why a writer has chosen this point of view, why has this writer chosen to write in the present tense? What you end up taking from a novel is so unpredictable, so it is important to read widely as you never know what devices and tips you can pick up and take into your own method. How do they have that effect on you? What books feel important to you? What themes have you drawn upon in your book? What books do you want to read? What writers do you aspire to, what do you want to emulate about them?
When you’ve examined the big picture – what your story is really about – real minutiae focus should then be paid to the language and sentence structure. Especially at the beginning and at the end. The beginning is the first piece of your writing a reviewer will see so you have to take your time on this edit. Think of the phrase "write like a reader". Then read your work back setting the bar high. Does it read as well as a contemporary already out? Read it aloud or ask someone else to read it aloud. Then listen to a Radio 4 Books at Bed Time reading and is a read through of your work just as sleek and captivating? Books should have something magical and transportive when it comes to language. What similes and metaphors are you using? Are they well placed, are they well timed? You really have to be strict with yourself. This is going to take a lot of time. What’s the longest you’ve ever spent of a single sentence? At some points in your novel you need to dedicate one day’s writing to just 500 words. Is each sentence as witty as it could be? How does the flow of your sentences compare to your favourite writers? Do the paragraphs end with a mini cliffhanger making the reader feel something is going to happen or you as a writer are letting them somewhere. A good example is, he looks angry, changed to: he looks at her without speaking, empties his plate, then addresses her shortly, I’m going to get my stuff and meet you outside.’
If you’re looking for a place to start for inspiration on either of the above, there are worse places to start than Granta’s Best of Young British Novelists, a list announced once a decade of twenty of the most exciting, interesting or noteworthy authors aged under 40. The last list was announced in 2023 and there’s always a divisiveness about which names weren’t included. What’s beautiful is the range of work represented and if you are looking to discover new writers, discover how different writers handle language and prose compared to others, what people in the UK literary scene are finding interesting and exciting, check out the lists, not only from 2023 but going back to 1983, which included authors such as Julian Barnes, Martis Amis, Pat Barker, Salman Rushdie and Kazuo Ishiguro. Read extracts from their work – Granta requests a short story from each – or delve into their novels.
For those who don’t have time to read more than 6 to 10 books a year, don’t despair. I’m a real advocate for the rise of audio books on Spotify and Audible. Listening to books on the go will deepen your understanding of different genres and you can get to understand what different writers are doing regarding how they approach an opening, or how they structure a book, or – and most importantly – how they keep a reader engaged or captivated while they build a story. I recommend using these for longer novels such as The Bee Sting by Paul Murray and Caledonian Road by Andrew O’Hagan which are excellent books and cover so much ground, but are huge beasts. Listening to these really help you understand how an author, even in a literary novel, includes things which keep a reader entertained and wanting to read on.
Masterclass and Writing Exercise
This week's Masterclass is with one of the greats of independent publishing who knows exactly what it takes to write and publish a brilliant novel. Neil Griffiths is not only a Costa Shortlisted novelist, he also founded the Republic of Consciousness Prize for independent presses and is the founder of Weatherglass books.
Writing Exercise
This week we ask you copy and paste around 400 words of your novel's opening and then tell us what your novel is aiming to cover emotionally and why you want the reader to read it, and what your novel has to say. Please don't tweak your opening, leave it as it is. The purpose of the exercise is so you can see if your opening rings true with what you want to convey in your novel as a whole. After all, you're only giving us 400 words, but it might help having it out there and then having the thoughts of your peers.