New writing, new feeling, new approach
When an unexpected novel turns up
Hello friends,
Several of my posts earlier this year were about the fact that I’ve not been writing any fiction. But over the past few months, two characters from two separate flash fiction stories, which were written and published about a year apart, have been appearing in my head more and more frequently. To start with it was occasional and they just kept saying they were connected, then it was more often and they were telling me they were friends, and then about three weeks ago it became daily and they had a lot they wanted to say. One of them was talking to me from 1990 and the other from 2015.
After a couple of weeks of this, one afternoon I had to stop what I was doing and start to write down what these characters were telling me. Tara was the first to start talking and she kind of appeared in my flash story, Things Left Behind in an Oxfordshire Field in 1989 the Day After an Illegal Rave. Daisy is slightly more reticent than Tara but she is still talking to me every day and she first appeared in this flash story, Degeneration.
I knew I couldn’t keep listening and not doing anything and hey presto, a new novel has been born. This is the first time I have developed a novel from my short fictions. What about you, have you written a novel based on one of your short stories? Do let me know in the comments if so and how you found the process.
This is also the first time I have started writing a novel without preconceived ideas, or expectations, about what might happen to it once I’ve written it (hint: I write from experience…that way madness lies!), and the first time I am going into it just with the love of writing to guide the process. It feels different. Freer, more exciting, unburdened.
I wrote in this post ‘Developing a mindful writing practice’ about how the writing of my first two novels went:
“I wrote two novels with the specific goal of getting them published, and even though I achieved that goal and I am proud of those two novels, I can now see that I could have connected more authentically to them both during the writing process and taken more time to really deliver on the ideas I had for them. But I was in a hurry to get myself established and get those novels out there.”
This time, I am going to make sure I do deliver on the ideas I have for it. Even though at this very early stage of the process, I don’t really know what they are yet. I know that it’s a story of a friendship that was set to last a lifetime but is torn apart after the decisions Tara and Daisy make on one fateful night in 1990. These are the other things I know:
that it’s a story about them finding each other again in 2015 and that because of what happened, neither of them know how to love, themselves or others;
that the two timelines are intertwined;
that ultimately it’s going to be filled with love and hope; and
that I am going to take my time and not rush the process.
I keep reminding myself of the brilliant advice Anne Lamott gives in Bird by Bird: Instructions on Writing and Life:
“Writing a first draft is very much like watching a Polaroid develop. You can’t—and, in fact, you’re not supposed to—know exactly what the picture is going to look like until it’s finished developing.”
So while writing novels one and two taught me a lot about the mechanics of story and writing a novel, and I will be doing some planning and outlining, some character development work, before I get started, this time I’m starting from a different place emotionally and psychologically (and physically as I move around so much!). Rather than the writing being focused on an end goal (or hope), this time it’s going to be all about the journey, the craft, the art of the novel, and the truths buried inside me that these characters have turned up to set free.
And just like the picture slowly emerging from the murk on the Polaroid, these truths will appear on the page as long as I give them the time and space they need to find their way there.
With love,
PS. You can find out more about the truths stored in our bodies that we have to write here:
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I’ve spent 3 years or so (that’s how long I’ve been writing) coming to this very same place Amanda. I’m not published prolifically (9 times this year, 7 last) nor do I write prolifically (my acceptance rate is around 50%). I started out feeling panicky and like I needed some quick vindication, some endorsement of my writing to show it was worth the time. I spent all three years loudly saying I don’t want to write a novel and feeling horrified about all the input with so little likely external return on investment. But now - I do! And I don’t care if it gets published (I suspect it’s not marketable) but I want to spend time writing it anyway. Until I started writing novels were all I read, so it makes sense.
This is really cool. I write nonfiction, so it's not 100% apples to apples, but nevertheless I can really relate to when a story "starts talking to you", and you kind of just have to listen then and there. I've come up with some of my best stuff this way over the years too!