I typically open any given manuscript I’m working on knowing one thing: I haven’t got much time to work on it.
Writing exists around that other time-consuming thing in my life: a full time job. And I love my job, so that’s OK by me.
I jump right in. Maybe I re-read the last few paragraphs I wrote, maybe I just get on with it. Maybe I pick up an existing scene, maybe I write a new one. Maybe it’s planned, maybe it’s not.
Whilst I have usually planned the plot out, I have always been someone more comfortable with winging it than properly planning it.
And that’s fine, except that I was reading Candy Gourlay’s post from a few weeks ago and felt the need to try to do things a little differently.
In an odd turn of events, I currently have the time, and it’s coincided wonderfully with having the inclination. Sitting next to me on my desk: Story by Robert McKee, Writing Children’s Fiction by Yvonne Coppard and Linda Newbery (from whom I have already been lucky enough to glean pearls of wisdom and kindness generously gifted on an Arvon course), On Writing by Stephen King and Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose.
Just as importantly I have surrounded myself by my favourite books, and have gone through each wondering for the first time why exactly they stick in my mind as favourites. Michelle Magorian's Goodnight Mister Tom and Elizabeth Wein's Code Name Verity for the depth of friendship invoked, Margo Lanagan's Tender Morsels and Bernard Beckett's August for their wondrous use of language, Amy Butler Greenfield's Chantress for its use of setting to reflect the characters perfectly – the list goes on.
Diving head-first into learning how to write better, rather than spending the time writing the manuscript itself, feels somewhat intimidating, but cometh the time, cometh the writer. Probably.
Writing exists around that other time-consuming thing in my life: a full time job. And I love my job, so that’s OK by me.
But is does mean that when I come to work on a manuscript, I feel under pressure to do something Great with it.
I jump right in. Maybe I re-read the last few paragraphs I wrote, maybe I just get on with it. Maybe I pick up an existing scene, maybe I write a new one. Maybe it’s planned, maybe it’s not.
Whilst I have usually planned the plot out, I have always been someone more comfortable with winging it than properly planning it.
And that’s fine, except that I was reading Candy Gourlay’s post from a few weeks ago and felt the need to try to do things a little differently.
Why don’t I plan more? Is it because it doesn’t work for me, or because in the limited time I have I prioritise the writing itself? Or is it – gulp – because I’ve never taken the time to learn how?
In an odd turn of events, I currently have the time, and it’s coincided wonderfully with having the inclination. Sitting next to me on my desk: Story by Robert McKee, Writing Children’s Fiction by Yvonne Coppard and Linda Newbery (from whom I have already been lucky enough to glean pearls of wisdom and kindness generously gifted on an Arvon course), On Writing by Stephen King and Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose.
Just as importantly I have surrounded myself by my favourite books, and have gone through each wondering for the first time why exactly they stick in my mind as favourites. Michelle Magorian's Goodnight Mister Tom and Elizabeth Wein's Code Name Verity for the depth of friendship invoked, Margo Lanagan's Tender Morsels and Bernard Beckett's August for their wondrous use of language, Amy Butler Greenfield's Chantress for its use of setting to reflect the characters perfectly – the list goes on.
Reading these books again and trying to break them down goes against instinct, but as Sarah Waters wrote in a 2010 Guardian article, “Read like mad. But try to do it analytically – which can be hard, because the better and more compelling a novel is, the less conscious you will be of its devices. It’s worth trying to figure those devices out, however: they might come in useful in your own work.”
Diving head-first into learning how to write better, rather than spending the time writing the manuscript itself, feels somewhat intimidating, but cometh the time, cometh the writer. Probably.