How to write a novel: Part two

You've read How to write a novel: Part one. 
You've come up with an idea, or been inspired by the Story prompts (more to come soon).
Your characters are fully formed in your head.
You have an idea of where your plot starts.

If all of the above apply to you, it's time to take the plunge and start writing your novel. Here's how ...

1. Write something. Anything. If you're anything like me, then you'll find a blank page terrifying. The only way to banish the beast is to start writing. It doesn't matter if it's the first line of the story or the last line, whether it's a work of genius or not. But I promise, once you get that first line down, the next one will be easier!
2. Keep writing. Well, that's obvious, right? But I think this is the hardest step. You won't always be in the mood to write. At some point (for me, always about half-way) you may well start to believe that you have written the worst book in the world, ever, and want to give up completely. You're wrong. You just have to keep going. Try and build writing into your routine. I don't think it matters whether it's a hundred words a day or five thousand, whether you manage to find fifteen minutes a day or five hours. JUST KEEP GOING!
3. Read what you've written. Before I start my day's writing, I read what I wrote the day before. This helps me remember where I am in the story - not just in terms of plot, but in terms of the development of characters' emotions. This (hopefully) leads to a smooth, natural progression of the romance. 
4. BUT Write without editing. This is not at all a hard and fast rule. Some people like to write one paragraph, or even one sentence at a time, rewriting and editing and getting it absolutely perfect before moving on. This is a perfectly valid way of writing. But it's not my way. If I tried to work this way, I don't think I would ever get past the first chapter, and learning to write first, edit later got my first novel finished. Try and find out what works for you. If you've a folder full of perfect first chapters, but no finished manuscript then maybe writing with editorial blinkers on will work for you too. 

And that's it. Although there are four steps listed about,what this post really boils down to is two things: start writing and keep going. If you can do that, you can write a novel.

Let me know how you get on!

Ellie x

How to write a novel: Part one
How to write a novel: Part three

Story prompts

So, you've read How to write a novel: Part one, have pen and paper at the ready, but are struggling with Step 1: Have an idea. Don't worry: it happens to us all! All you need is a prompt to get you started, and then Step 2 will take care of the rest.

Courtesy of  me and two of my nearest, dearest friends, here are some ideas:

Tears came to her eyes as they held each other for one last time. A kiss, a look, and he walked away ...

A classic: You arrive home from the airport, open your suitcase, and realise it has been swapped with another passenger's. Inside you find ...

You spend a week in paradise having a delicious holiday fling, but you never plan to see him again. Five years later, you decide to put a cheating ex behind you by travelling the world. Walking through an airport, guess who you see ... ? 

Feel free to use these prompts however you like. The most important thing is to pick one as a starting point, and see where it takes you. Brainstorm your ideas in the comments section, and let me know what happens to these guys!

Ellie (and friends)
x

How to write a novel: Part one

OK, so that's probably not the most accurate title for this post, because there is no one way to write a novel. But this is how I do it, so if you're still interested, read on. Oh, I should also say that the actual writing of a novel isn't covered in this post, this is all about the planning, but if you're still interested, here's how to do it...

1. Have an idea. Sometimes this is easier said than done. It is especially difficult when sitting staring at a blank screen, telling yourself that you have to have a really good idea, right now. Take the pressure off by having really good ideas all the time instead. And, importantly, write them down so that you can come back to them when you need them.
2. Ask yourself questions. If your inspiration is a location, then who lives there. If your inspiration is a person, then where do they live? Are they in trouble? How did they get there? How will they get out of it? I love to do this stage the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper. I find that when I'm writing on paper, my brain is always a step ahead of my hand, so by the time I've finished writing the question, I know the answer, or I at least know which question needs asking next. 
3. Find out who your friends are. Take all the information you have about your characters (from your scribbles from #2), and draw up profiles. Who are they? What makes them tick? What's brought them together, and what's going to keep them apart. Ask more questions. Really get to know your characters inside out. 
4. Work out what they're up to. By this stage, a beginning and a middle may be making themselves known. Play around with different ideas thrown up by #2 and #3. How much detail you put in here really depends on how you like to work. Writers fall into two camps: plotters and pantsers (though of course there are many shades of grey in between). Plotters plan what they are going to write, and then write it. Pantsers start writing and see where it takes them. I'm a plotter, but only up to a point. When I start on chapter one, I'll have a pretty structured plan for the first third of the book, and know the major milestones for the middle and the end. But I don't plot these in detail at the start, instead I have a couple of big plotting sessions along the way.
5. Do your research. OK, so this isn't really #5. It's a little bit of points 1-4, as it needs to be done all the way through. Research can be lots of things. It can be sitting with your eyes shut, glass of wine in hand, thinking about why your character reacts in the way they do; it can be reading historical manuscripts at the British Library; and it can be pretty much everything in between. The point is, you have to make your story believable, which means knowing the ins and outs of every character, every decision, every location, and every historical event. That's not to say that you need to include all this information in your book - in fact you really probably shouldn't - and it's not to say that you can't monkey with the facts a little, if it's what your story really needs. But if you're winging it, then something may ring hollow about your story. 

So there we are. Once all this is done, you just need a notepad and paper or a computer, and a few short, easy months later, you will have written a novel. Simples. Honest... Meet you back here for Part 2!

Ellie 

x

How to write a novel: Part two
How to write a novel: Part three

Old friends

August is the time of year I start to think seriously about my NaNoWriMo project.

Although November still seems like forever away, I know that if I want time for my characters, plot and setting to develop gradually and organically in my mind, and then be firmed up enough to actually get writing on the 1 November, I need to start early.

This year, though, I'm already slightly ahead of schedule, because I'm pretty sure which idea from my notebook I want to explore. Remember those characters that were causing me sleepless nights last month? (They're here... http://elliedarkins.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/its-mystery.html) Well, I think the time has come for me to try and work out what is going on.

One thing that I'm absolutely sure of is that the time between now and November is going to be filled with a huge amount of research - because I've had a sneaking suspicion all along that these aren't contemporary characters.

I read a lot of historicals, and historical non-fiction, but I've never written a historical story before, and at the moment research seems like an impossible chicken–egg-type situation ... What do I research first? How do I know what to research if I don't know the plot? How can I outline a plot without knowledge of the historical context? So I'd love some advice from anyone who knows more than me (ie very little) about going about writing a historical novel, or anyone who has ideas for how to get started. Please help!

Ellie
x

In praise of punctuation

In my day job as an editor I seem to spend a lot of time battling with commas - in particular, comma splices. (A comma splice is where two independent clauses are joined by a comma.) Now, a comma splice isn't always a mortal sin - at times, it is the only sensible choice: I came, I saw, I conquered - but it is generally considered grammatically incorrect.

I'm not suggesting that getting your commas right makes the difference between a brilliant and not-brilliant book - great writing shines through even the dodgiest punctuation - but why ignore this valuable tool for making your writing glow?

So, what are your options when it comes to joining independent clauses? Here's a run down:
Use a conjunction: He was gorgeous and I had to kiss him.
Use a semi colon: He was gorgeous; I kissed him.
Use a conjunction and a comma: He was gorgeous, but not very bright.
Use a full stop: He was gorgeous. He wasn't very bright. 
Use a colon (where the second clause explains the first): I couldn't fancy him: he was stupid.
Make one clause dependent on the other: If he weren't so dim, I might fancy him.

The most important thing to bear in mind is that the punctuation you choose affects your tone. Compare the breathless excitement of: He looked so gorgeous and I know it was stupid but I couldn't help myself and I just had to kiss him. with the more reasonable, more considered: He looked so hot. I know it was stupid, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to kiss him. to see for how much influence punctuation can have.

I hope this is helpful! If you have any punctuation question, ask away and I'll do my best to help.

Ellie
x

Tough love

I came to the realisation this week that the part of my novel I'm having most trouble with - a couple of chapters in the middle - is problematic because my characters are too darned happy. I ramp up the tension at the start; I build to a crescendo at the end. But for a fair few pages, right in the middle of the story, everything is going marvellously for my hero and heroine, and, frankly, it's boring me.

So at the risk of sounding like a sadist, my job this week is to make these two (mostly) lovely people unhappy. I'll keep them apart. I'll bring them together with unfortunate timing. I'll make them jealous and peevy, nervous and awkward, and really quite frustrated - in every sense of the word. Anything really, as long as they're not too happy about it.

Why do I take such pleasure in making them suffer? Because I'm writing romance! So I know they'll get their happy ever after soon enough, and they (and I, and hopefully you) will enjoy it all the more if they haven't taken the quickest, smoothest path there. I know they'll thank me in the end.

Ellie
x

P.S. Feel free to share any ways you like to torture your characters in the comments box (within reason - no actual torture please :) )

Free short story: Extraordinary Possibilities

So, here it is: my first ever short story. I hope that you like it. Please let me know what you think!

Extraordinary Possibilities

I arrive at work before the sun is up, convinced that if I can lock myself in my office for a few days, then everyone will forget. In a day or two there will be some new office gossip, and Rob and I will be yesterday’s news. 

Except there is no Rob and I. I know that other people do it: romances in the workplace, a relationship with the boss, but it doesn’t feel right for me. 

I forgot this last night. 

At the end of the evening, when the lights in the bar came up, I was shocked. I had no idea that so much time had passed. Slowly, as the buzz of conversation and the sour smell of too many bodies invaded my senses, it became clear that we had attracted more than a little attention from our colleagues. Panic prickled my skin: I had to get out of there. 

Rob offered to walk me to a taxi. I refused, knowing that it would only add fuel to the fire, but he followed me out anyway. I didn’t argue; I just wanted to get away. The whispers I could hear in our wake confirmed my fears. The crowd in the bar didn’t even try to hide their interest, and I was certain that the rumour mill was already working overtime.

*** 

 I think back to the first time that Rob walked into my office. I hadn’t a clue who he was. All I knew when I looked up from my tired, emotional, groggy funk, was that some sort of god with Disney-hero looks – all muscly arms, perfect teeth, and hair begging to be touched – was standing in front of my desk holding out a hand. 

‘Rob Harris,’ he introduced himself confidently. ‘Your new executive assistant…’ he continued when my blank stare made it clear that I was incapable of speech. Fortunately, I’d been able to blame my lack of composure on the fact that I was only just back from sick leave, rather than being turned into a drooling, dribbling, adolescent mess at the sight of him. And so I settled into a routine of sitting, every day, ten feet away from a man about whom I had sticky, sweaty, Technicolor fantasies every night, but who was strictly off limits.

 ***

Another flashback to the bar makes me grimace. The pressure of Rob’s hand on the small of my back as we leave, wishing I could lean back into it, but forcing myself to move away. You weren’t doing anything wrong, I remind myself for the thousandth time. Nothing happened. The whole department was in the bar. It was an innocent after-work drink. You were just talking. Except ‘just talking’ didn’t seem the right word to describe the three hours we’d spent, to the exclusion of all others, huddled in a quiet corner. I remember the way he looked at me when my foot brushed against his under the table. The way that he moved closer, as I tried to move away. 

‘You’re still here,’ he says. 

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ 

‘I mean, how long have we worked together. A few months now?’ 

I agree, wondering where this is going. 

‘Well, for months now, whenever the conversation has threatened to move away from anything strictly work related, you’ve decided it’s time you were going home. Or time that I was. I mean, we’ve never sat like this before. Just talking.’ 

I nod slowly. He’s right. For the past three months I’ve tried my hardest to maintain my professionalism – not easy when I was developing the mother of all crushes. I’ve done everything that I can to shut him out. I’ve left the room rather than face up to my feelings more times than I can remember. And that’s what I should be doing now, I think. But there have been times tonight when the attraction between us has felt so strong that I could reach out and almost touch it.
 After we leave the pub, I start walking up to the top of the road, hoping that I can hail a cab. I can hear Rob following close behind me. He catches up to me and I swing round at the feel of his hand at my elbow, trying to pull myself away. I stumble on the jagged edge of a paving slab and feel my face heading inevitably towards the ground. I brace myself for the impact, waiting for the crunch of skin and bone against concrete. 

Rob catches me. 

He pulls me up against him, and as I catch my breath I can feel the intensity of his gaze on my face. I can’t bring myself to look up and meet his eye, even when his hand brushes back the hair that has been thrown across my face and tucks it behind my ear. A curl of desire starts in the pit of my stomach and spirals downwards.

*** 

I sit back in my chair, remembering the feeling of his fingers against the sensitive skin of my neck, and my reaction to it.  It was unlike anything I’d felt before: more intense, more overwhelming, more frightening. It was the first time I’d had ever felt that, and I’d walked away without saying a word. 

But now, suddenly, there’s something I’m more afraid of. What if I never feel it again? What if I run from Rob forever? What if this is my one chance, and if I blow it now, that’s it. 

This isn’t some fleeting crush. I’ve not been able to get him out of my head for months. And now I am determined to do whatever it takes to at least be able to speak to him about how I feel. My heart quickens at the possibilities opening in front of me. I don’t want to bury my head in the sand any longer. I don’t want to hide, or avoid him. The only thing that was going to help was doing something. I could talk to my manager; I could tell HR; I would do anything other than spend another minute sitting alone, in my office or in my bed, wishing that things could be different. 

As I race to the door and reach for the handle, it opens inwards, and I collide with Rob’s broad, solid chest. 

‘I need to talk to you.’ 

His tone is serious, and I’m instantly on edge. This isn’t right. We can’t have this conversation yet. But the shock of his presence, on top of my sudden epiphany, throws me, and I let him shut the door and lead me over towards my desk. 

I perch on the corner, and that’s when I see the envelope in his hand. My heart sinks. 

‘Rob, what’s going on?’ 

‘I’m leaving,’ he tells me matter-of-factly. ‘Please consider this official notice of my resignation.’ 

I’m horrified. He obviously doesn’t feel the same, and now I’d made him so uncomfortable that he needs to leave. 

‘Rob, you don’t have to do this. If something has … happened, to make you feel that you can’t stay, then I’m sure that something can be sorted out. Perhaps you would be happier if you were working in another part of the company, or if I was …’ 

‘No. I want to leave.’ My heart breaks at the certainty in his voice. 

He reaches for my hand, and holds it gently in his. I’m still so shocked by his announcement that I can barely register this additional surprise. ‘I’m sorry,’ he starts, and I want him to be quiet. I want to be able to sit in silence and concentrate on the feeling of his skin, warm and soft and smooth. Because he’s leaving, and I know that in the days and weeks and months to come, I’m going to think of this moment often. 

He continues anyway: ‘Please, let me explain. It’s impossible to stay here.’ I’m desperate to say something. It’s not fair that he should have to leave, just because I can’t keep my feelings to myself. But, again, the words don’t come. 

‘I can’t work for you anymore,’ he says slowly, with a hint of nerves making his voice waver. ‘Because of how I feel about you. Because until you read that letter, I can’t kiss you.’ 

Realisation hits, and for a moment, I can only gape at him. He wants to kiss me. He’s leaving. The two thoughts battle for space in my head, and I still can’t shake the feeling that this is wrong, that I’m forcing him out of a job. I stand, take my hand from where he still holds it, and open the envelope. 

‘Like I say in my letter …’ A hand on my waist gently pulls me towards him. ‘… I’ve been offered an excellent opportunity …’ The hand creeps around to my back and holds me firmly against his chest. ‘… With extraordinary possibilities …’ I hold my breath and tilt my face up to his, waiting for the feel of his lips on mine. ‘…That I just can’t walk away from.’