Louise Dean's Blog, page 8
December 4, 2021
How To Write a Synopsis
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From the desk of Lily Lindon, editor at The Novelry and author of Double Booked (June 2022).
If you want an agent to represent your novel, you're going to have to write a damned good synopsis.
That's right – it's not enough to spend months of your life crafting tens of thousands of words of brilliant, original storytelling. You've got to be able to summarise it too.
Most agencies ask for a synopsis as part of any submission package, to be sent along with the opening of your novel and your pitch letter. But what is it, and how do you make it work effectively?
Your synopsis is your novel in miniature.
Essentially, your synopsis is your novel in miniature. It is a concise, dynamic overview of your novel. It gives a stranger the essentials of your story – who, what, where and why – and outlines the main characters. What changes and challenges do they go through? It needs to convey the essence of each of your novel's unique parts.
I can also tell you what a synopsis is not. It is not the same thing as a ‘blurb’ (the teaser paragraph on the back of published books). It is also not the same as your plan, which you as a writer use to understand the workings of your plot. And it is also not the same as an essay: this is not the place to be arguing about the thematic complexities of your novel. This is simply your story, in 500 words.
'Impossible?'
Have no fear! No one knows your story better than you. All you need to do now is prove it...
Aside from the fact that agents expect to see a synopsis, it’s actually a great way to see if your plot is working properly.
If you can’t summarise your story in a page, then that might be a sign something is wrong.
So here’s our list of ten key things to keep in mind:
How Long Should it Be? (How Short?)
Where To Begin?
What's the Tone?
Who are the Characters?
Once Upon a Time, in a Land Far, Far Away
Spoiler Alert?
Be Concise.
Be Even More Concise.
How Should it Look?
Think Like an Agent.
1. How Long Should it Be? (How Short?)
The thing people are often the most worried about with their synopsis is that it is too long. Your synopsis should be 1–2 pages (and no cheating with making the font ridiculously small!) In fact, at The Novelry, we recommend a 500-word upper limit on your synopsis. Contrary to popular belief, this isn’t because we’re evil. It's because, on a practical level, 500 words will always be within an agent’s specified limits for synopsis length. But perhaps even more importantly, it forces you to be strict with yourself. Cut to the heart of your novel. Tell the reader what happens; that’s it. (You'll be amazed at how writing a good synopsis will help you to edit your novel effectively too!)
2. Where to Begin?
Well, as Julie Andrews would tell us, the beginning is a very good place to start.
Open with the opening of your novel. In fact, your synopsis should follow the chronology of your novel – tell us what happens, in the order it happens. If it's good enough to open your novel, it should be good enough to open your synopsis. If you're going to indulge in one, stylish, luxurious sentence anywhere in the synopsis, it's best to have it as an irresistible opening line, or pithy ending. Bonus points for some dramatic irony, or revealing insight.
If you have a brilliant hook line that really sells the conflict at the heart of your story, then by all means include this at the beginning of your synopsis. (She wasn’t the only one living a lie, but she was the only one who saw the truth.) But remember that you will also have your pitch letter, where you'll want to use your hook line as a short sharp lure.
If in doubt, don't faff around. Begin your synopsis in-scene, at its most interesting point. Present the initial dilemma/moment of change as soon as possible. (Bumbling editor LILY is taking out the bins when aggressive aliens kidnap her.)
3. What’s the Tone?
To some extent, there is space for personal preference in a synopsis: some agents will prefer a synopsis that gives a taster of the novel’s tone, as well as its plot. Others prefer their synopsis to be a ‘factual’ tool, devoid of voice quirks.
In general, be professional, clear and to the point. But it’s also good to demonstrate your creativity and flair – only if it adds to the effectiveness of the synopsis.
Write in the third person (even if the novel is written in the first). This will help you to give a precise overview of the events. Skip the dull parts. Include the complications and climaxes. (A good tip for writing your novel too, to be honest!)
If your novel is funny, probably don’t include jokes in your synopsis, as the humour is unlikely to land out of context – but don’t hide descriptions of your set-pieces or brilliant ironies. Use the synopsis to tell your comic story with a complete deadpan.
4. Who are the Characters?
A synopsis needs to tell the reader who the characters are, what’s at stake for them, and the challenges they face. As you (presumably) do in your novel, start with the main character. In most stories, you’ll be wanting the synopsis to revolve closely around what happens to the hero, and what they do next.
But unless you’re writing a dystopia (or a lockdown novel), there’s probably more than one character in your book. You don’t need to mention every character (in fact, please don’t), but you should include any of the key players. A general rule is to introduce them in the order we meet them (Cast In Order of Appearance.).
When introducing them, it’s helpful to add a very short description of them. This can be as simple as one adjective (LILY, a well-intentioned editor). Add their ages if relevant to the story – doesn’t have to be their exact birthday and star sign; ‘late 70s’ will suffice. (If it’s a children’s novel, it’s particularly helpful to give the protagonist’s age, as this is often an important indicator of the intended reading age.)
Adjectives can sometimes be distracting or clunky in an actual novel, but in a synopsis, they can be useful for quickly transmitting character types and immediately drawing your reader into conflicts. Check the adjectives you use are deft and specific. The adjectives should typically describe their personality or motivations (rather than appearance), because these are what impact their actions, and allow the agent to understand the mood of their scenes. Upgrade bland or generic words: try having a play with an online thesaurus!
5. Once Upon a Time, in a Land Far, Far Away
Are we in the present, past or future? This must be made clear immediately. You don’t want the agent to realise it’s historical fiction only when you mention the Titanic sinking. Similarly, your novel’s main setting should be evident early in the synopsis. You can often combine these in a simple opening few words – in modern-day Manhattan/a near-future Lagos/Elizabethan London etc – allowing you to then get to the heart of your character and story as soon as possible.
If you are writing speculative, fantasy or otherwise otherworldly fiction, ensure that you give the reader enough information to understand that this is not our familiar Earth. However, it’s a mistake to use the whole of the synopsis to describe your Brave New World, without actually telling the reader what your specific character's journey is. It can often work to introduce the reader to the setting and time period upfront (Mars, 2099). Spread out any further information about your world so that it’s not too front-loaded.
As with the rest of your synopsis, only tell the reader the essentials. Save the beautiful descriptions of your beach hotel, haunted house or distant planet for the actual novel.
6. Spoiler Alert?
Writers often worry about spoiling a twist in their synopsis. Now, there is some differing opinion here: some argue that the synopsis's job is to intrigue an agent to request the full manuscript, and therefore not giving away everything is a good thing.
However, we'd caution against this. As explained at the top of this article, this is not a blurb. This is not a marketing tool. It is a professional outline, used by an agent to check that your novel is in good working shape, and that it fulfils the demands of its readership. A good synopsis is the ultimate plot spoiler. Tell us all the juicy bits: indeed, tell us nothing but the juicy bits. After all, you're not going to be able to give a useful description of your twisty thriller if you hide all the turns. If your story is compelling, spoilers won't stop an agent from reading on – they'll encourage them.
If your story is compelling, spoilers won't stop an agent from reading on – they'll encourage them.
7. Be Concise.
Cut all unnecessary words.
8. Be Even More Concise.
Okay, number 7 was a little bit cheeky of me, but you see what I mean!
Delete any information that is not essential for understanding the story. On the other hand, ensure you do include any information that is essential for understanding the story. If a character makes a cup of tea because they're thirsty, don't include it; if a character makes a cup of tea to poison someone, do include it.
Therefore, avoid including too much backstory – only give us the details we need to understand the synopsis itself. Do not include full character names, every visited location, explanations of every magical device, details of subplots or quotes from dialogue. When in doubt, save it for the book.
Cut all unnecessary words.
9. How Should it Look?
There’s no one uniform template for a synopsis. However, as with all the materials in your submission pack, it should be immaculately well presented.
No typos. No spelling mistakes. No odd fonts. No pictures of your cat.
Structure in paragraphs, not bullet points. Put the names of the main characters in CAPITALS when you first introduce them. Use font size 10–12 with double-spacing (unless the agent specifically requests otherwise).
A further note on this: if you're at the stage of submitting to agents, do be careful to follow the different instructions on specific agency websites. If you haven't taken the time to format in the way they're asking for, they may be less likely to take the time for your submission in return. (And this isn't just spite, sometimes agents get so many submissions that they are filtered through a computer system: don't let your submission get stuck in the process just because you attached it as a Word document rather than a PDF!)
If you submit your novel to agents via The Novelry's editorial team, we will sort this for you.
10. Think Like an Agent.
Like anything creative, I’m afraid there is no one right answer for writing a good synopsis. Some industry professionals will have preferences about what you should or shouldn’t do, but at the end of the day, synopses will be almost as varied as the novels themselves. The thing to remember is that the synopsis is there to fulfil a purpose: to give an agent an immediate overview of your novel.
Therefore, if in doubt, think, ‘If I was an agent, what would I find helpful? Would I need to know this before reading the novel? What would make me confident that it’s worth my time to read the chapters? What could be off-putting?’
And remember, if your idea and novel is utterly brilliant, one dodgy comma in your synopsis isn't going to stop you. It's there to help your application, not hinder it. Juliet Mushens, one of The Novelry's star partner agents, says:
'I will always read the cover letter and pages first [...] I tend to only look at the synopsis if I’m potentially on the fence about something. So I might think that the writing is good but I can’t see where the plot is going, or that I am intrigued by the set-up but am not sure how the plot will unfold.'
Give the agent a perceptive bird’s eye view of your book, and they’ll be desperate to read more.
Still Got Problems?
The answer to solving a synopsis problem is almost always to simplify. Return to your plan with the fundamental beats of your story. Try telling your story to yourself, maybe on a voice recorder or voice note. Listening back to your speech will help show you what's unnecessary.
Your synopsis needs to be understood by a complete stranger, so ensure you’re not assuming any knowledge about your story that an outsider couldn't know. If you’re unsure, try sharing your synopsis with a trusted reader – your friends at thenovelry.live will oblige! See what they remember if you ask them to tell your story back to you. See what’s lost in translation.
But there's a caution to this sharing: don't send it to agents until it's ready. In the same way that you wouldn't rush over words in your key opening chapters, spend time crafting your synopsis until it gleams. Don't do your novel an injustice by summarising it poorly.
Go for it!
Perfect your submission to literary agents with The Novelry's expert editorial team. Members of The Novelry gain access to brilliant resources to improve their synopses: The Novelry's Community offers live online workshops and dedicated space to get feedback on your work from fellow writers plus exciting live sessions with famous bestselling authors. Coming soon: Rachel Joyce and Diana Evans.
November 27, 2021
Why It's Better To Write Together
Mahsuda Snaith is one of the team of expert author coaches at The Novelry. She was named an 'Observer New Face of Fiction' for her debut novel The Things We Thought We Knew (published by Penguin's Black Swan imprint), and her second novel How to Find Home was chosen as a BBC Radio 4 Book at Bedtime.
Write your book with an author like Mahsuda at your side – we'll be there to help you every step of the way!
From the desk of Mahsuda Snaith.
Writing can sometimes feel like a country park full of bracken.
Let me explain.
A few years back, I was walking with a friend through a local country park. We came to a spot where the ground was covered with bracken, with thin trails weaving through the overgrowth. As we walked through, my friend told me how she knew someone who had come to the same park and lost sight of her dog in amongst the thickets. Her dog just so happened to be called Bracken. There she stood on her own, shouting into the wind, ‘Bracken? Bracken!' Other walkers looked at her with confusion, presumably thinking she was some kind of plant obsessive who liked pointing out the obvious.
So yes, writing can sometimes feel like a country park full of bracken. Sometimes the path between the thickets seems clear, you know exactly where you’re going, can envision the destination even though you can’t quite see it on the horizon yet. Other times, it feels like you’re going around in circles, that your destination may not actually exist (or have ever existed), and you’re left standing on your own amongst the leaves shouting 'Bracken? Bracken!'
Except of course, the leaves are your writing and what you’re shouting is, 'Story? Story!'
Last year, during lockdown, I got lost in the writing bracken. For many years, my dream was to be a stay-at-home writer but, like many dreams, the reality had its downsides.
Last year, during lockdown, I got lost in the writing bracken. For many years, my dream was to be a stay-at-home writer but, like many dreams, the reality had its downsides. I often got tangled up in my writing then lost sight of my story and, when I went in search for it, it refused to come back to my call. I was also lonely and in need of a kindred spirit who would ‘get’ what this crazy writing life could be like.
One morning, in a rare act of social bravery, I decided to post a Tweet asking if other writers would like to meet up on Zoom to talk about how they were dealing with writing during lockdown. I told myself that even if two people responded then my act of reaching out would have been worthwhile. As it turned out, I ended up with a good deal more than two writers; in fact, within a few days, I ended up with 40 names written on a hand-drawn table, trying to divide them into groups so that we could all meet at suitable time slots throughout the following week.
The part of me that was propelled to go out of my comfort zone and send that Tweet was left feeling grateful for the connection I so obviously needed, as well as the feelings of resonance that came when I heard everyone talk about their own writing experiences. At the end of the sessions, I asked if anyone would like to join me once a week on a regular basis and, a year later, I still have Zoom meetings with the group that was formed. We discuss our work-in-progress, submission deadlines, the ups and downs of the publishing industry, as well as that general feeling of being stuck in the writing wilderness. With their wise words, I’ve been shown the path out of the bracken on a number of occasions and have been able to reorientate myself. I can see that, yes, my destination did always exist and, what’s more, I’m one step closer to getting there.
A year later, I still have Zoom meetings with the group that was formed. We discuss our work-in-progress, submission deadlines, the ups and downs of the publishing industry.
Since I began working at The Novelry it became clear that this feeling of ‘stuckness’ was a common issue for writers of all experience levels. In a team meeting one week, we began discussing how many of our writers had mentioned they were sinking in the bog of their first drafts and had seemingly lost the joy of writing. There was the suggestion of a Story Clinic takeover, a session that would be full of fun and play. As I’d spent years teaching creative writing workshops, it seemed natural to volunteer and lead the session. We called the takeover ‘Let’s Play Writing’, and booked it in for my next Story Clinic.
For the workshop, I collated a series of short exercises that I thought would bring out a sense of play for our writers, getting them to come at their writing sideways and, even though they wouldn’t necessarily be working on their novels, get them to see their work-in-progress with fresh eyes. As well as this, I felt a strong need to incorporate breakout rooms. I’d used Zoom breakout rooms in previous online creative writing workshops and always had the same result from them; the writers did not want to come back when I closed the rooms. In fact, many were positively disgruntled, having gotten into great conversations with the writers they’d been randomly put in a room with.
When I did the takeover, I found the same reaction (without the disgruntlement). In fact, the writers came back with expressions of relief. They had tried a timed exercise that probably felt impossible when the task was set (I know, I have done similar exercises myself), they had a go anyway, then had been given a chance to debrief on how they’d found the experience. Via this simple act, they had found the connection and resonance that is so very needed when your work is primarily done from making things up in your head.
The response to that Story Clinic takeover was so uplifting that The Novelry now offers a monthly ‘Let’s Play Writing Workshop’.
The response to that Story Clinic takeover was so uplifting that The Novelry now offers a monthly ‘Let’s Play Writing Workshop’ with me as the lead. We hope that if you’re a member, you will come and join us in one of the future workshops to challenge your creative mind with something a little bit different, as well as find that crucial feeling of connection with other writers. And if you aren’t a member, perhaps you could find that connection by reaching out to writers you know. And, if you don’t know any writers, perhaps you could post a Tweet…
Writing is a solitary act, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it is always lonely.
Writing is a solitary act, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it is always lonely. In fact, the characters that inhabit your worlds can make the best of companions when they stick to the path and remain in clear sight. But when that character (or their story, or their world) gets lost amongst the bracken, perhaps instead of shouting for ‘story’, we can step out from the thickets and ask if anyone else has lost their story too. At least this way, we won’t be lost on our own.
Enrol now to start writing in January 2022.
If your New Year's resolution is to finally write your novel, it's time to enrol in one of our popular online writing courses. Dive into the courses that will prepare you to write with advanced storytelling skills so that you can crack on with writing your book in January. Find out which course is right for you by exploring the website, or book in a free call to meet one of our team of award-winning author tutors.
Become a member of The Novelry, and you can be sure you won't be writing alone.
November 20, 2021
Rachel Joyce on Overcoming Doubt
Rachel Joyce is the Sunday Times and New York Times bestselling author of six books, including The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy and Miss Benson’s Beetle.
We're delighted to have an exclusive live event with Rachel on 20th December. Become a member of The Novelry for access to talks with bestselling authors, online classes with industry professionals – and so much more.
From the desk of Rachel Joyce.
If you are reading this, you are a writer. I say that not because I am flattering you but because you clearly care deeply enough to want to find a way of finishing what you are working on. So I am going to be really frank with you – one writer to another.
My feelings about our craft change all the time but there is one thing I know for certain: it is necessary. Even when I was a child, I wanted to write – and not just for myself, I wanted to write stories that other people would read. I sent off my first book to a publisher at the age of twelve. I called myself Mary Thornton, partly because I thought all good writers had a pseudonym and partly because it sounded more writerly than Rachel Joyce. I still have the letter of rejection.
My feelings about our craft change all the time but there is one thing I know for certain: it is necessary.
Rachel Joyce
Stories are how I communicate with the outside world. Through stories, I ask questions, I educate myself, I give shape to things that appear to have no shape, and are sometimes so large I might get lost in them. And yet after my failure as Mary Thornton, it took me a long time to write another book that I would try publishing. By my mid-forties, I knew a few things – about children and school runs and laundry, and feeling unseen. I knew real grief and happy love, and I knew sad love too. I had written a number of radio plays. But something in me knew I hadn’t done the thing I wanted to do. I hadn’t published a book. And it wouldn’t exactly have been a wasted life if I hadn’t got published, but it would have felt a waste if I hadn’t at least tried. So that’s what I did. And it is what I still do.
I write every day. You keep a story alive by being with it. Even when I am not writing, the thing I am working on is with me. You wouldn’t expect an athlete to run a marathon without some serious training and a decent pair of shoes, and it’s exactly the same being a writer. You need to put in the time and you need to learn what enables you to keep at it.
I write every day. You keep a story alive by being with it.
Rachel Joyce
I keep a journal. Not every day, but a book isn’t where I want to air my small, daily disappointments. A journal is always useful when you want to remember how it feels to be lying beneath a scorching blue July sky when it is in January and you can’t see for rain. It’s also a good place to discover who you are as a writer – the things you notice, the things that move you, the sentence rhythms that come most naturally.
I think that’s something to look for in your writing, by the way. The thing that gets you. In your heart.
When I first begin to work on a book, it always feels like finding a house in the middle of a wood – a quite magical house – that I really want to enter, but there are no doors and no windows. There is nothing. I can see there is a book I want to write. (The house.) I can sense there are some people inside I would like to know. (The owners?) On a good day, I can hear they are asking questions I want to ask too. But that’s all. The best I can do is go round and round and round that house, circling it, touching the external brickwork, until I find the smallest hairline crack, and gradually bit by bit, it opens to maybe a finger-sized crack (at least I think it might be) until eventually I begin to see something that could become my way inside. You might get impatient and want to pick up a sledgehammer but a sledgehammer will not work. The way in is only really by staying close, and pacing round and round and round.
During this time, I make a lot of notes. I find quotes and ideas and photographs that appear to belong to this house. I begin write little unconnected scenes. I don’t even know what they are, or whether I will use them. They are just moments or conversations that float into my consciousness. I try not to judge them. (Ha. As if.) I find out who these people might be – who they like, what they want, what they don’t have and what they hide beneath the bed.
I also think a lot about what the story might be, and what it is trying to say. The story is the walls and foundations of the book – it is why someone picks it up and keeps reading from one page to the next – but the fittings, like wallpaper and beautiful mirrored candles, are the questions the book is asking.
I know too there are beats to a story that I want to hit because when as readers we find them, it’s like a delicious feeling of landing (or maybe it’s the opposite, maybe it’s flying) but when a story does that, when it hits those ancient beats, everything in the world feels right. So I know what an inciting incident is, and an end of Act 1, as well as a midpoint and the famous 'all is lost' section. (If you don’t know about them yet, I really recommend finding out. And you can do it right on this website.)
There are beats to a story that I want to hit because when as readers we find them, it’s like a delicious feeling of landing (or maybe it’s the opposite, maybe it’s flying).
Rachel Joyce
Once I have all those little scenes or snippets, then comes the process of trying to stitch them together. I will already have a sense of how I want it to hang but it may well surprise me and not hang the way I hoped. So one of us has to adjust, and it is often me. Sections that I really liked may have to go because when I begin to put the book together, I see they’re holding us up when we need to accelerate, or they’re too similar in tone to a bit that’s gone before, or maybe I just need to make a jump and shake things up a bit. Part of this process has been getting to know the characters and the story, and often you only find out what works by finding out what doesn’t. I accept now that I make loads of mistakes. I honour the waste paper bin.
Somewhere around this point I look at my book, my beautiful book-house, and all I can see is carnage. A building site. And I wish I had chosen another house, or another wood, or – even better – a book that someone else has already written. I say this because I don’t want you to be surprised when it isn’t easy. I suffer doubt. Oh, such crippling, awful, nasty doubt. But I have learned something about doubt: it is part of being creative. So I sit at my desk and I think, This is awful! Why can’t I write better? And then I think, Oh hello doubt! Take a chair but we have some work to do if you don’t mind. And on I go.
I have learned something about doubt: it is part of being creative.
Rachel Joyce
I say all this not to put you off but to remind you that writing is a slog and when it’s difficult that doesn’t mean you are not a writer. It means you are getting in there and things are a bit messy and scary but this is how it should be. So don’t stop.
Find time every day to write. It might only be ten minutes but that’s okay. Find your writing time. No one else is going to say to you, Would you like to write now? So you are going to have to be brave and say it yourself. Find out when is your good writing time. (Mine is very early in the morning. It’s like secret time.)
I light a candle when I write. It’s part of my ritual. And some days I put on a pair of cloppy shoes because they make me feel a bit like someone who knows what she’s doing, but that’s not necessary. Find out what keeps you company.
Buy a journal. And I don’t mean a crappy notebook. I mean a lovely one because this is really important to you.
And lastly, because you are taking yourself seriously as a writer, you must dare to dig deep. It’s not enough to cast something off and think, Oh I have had enough, that will just have to do. It is up to you to challenge yourself, and to be honest about the places in your writing where you know you are just getting by. Don’t let something go until you know you have caught the story you want to tell.
Honour the writer in you. Don’t be Mary Thornton. (Unless by some bizarre chance you are called Mary Thornton.) Be you.
Enrol now to start writing in January 2022.
If you're thinking New Year, New Novel it's time to enrol in our online writing courses. Find out more about the Book in a Year Plan or The Finished Novel Course (our most popular course) by booking in a free call with one of our expert author tutors.
November 13, 2021
Kendare Blake on the Magic of Writing
Kendare Blake is the New York Times bestselling author of the Three Dark Crowns fantasy series, which includes Three Dark Crowns, One Dark Throne and Two Dark Reigns. She is also the author of Anna Dressed in Blood, Girl of Nightmares and Antigoddess. Her latest YA novel, All These Bodies, is out now.
We have a dedicated fantasy and YA team at The Novelry, and we're thrilled to be welcoming Kendare as a guest speaker on 13th December.
From the desk of Kendare Blake.
I love writing. Hopefully that will come as no surprise. Though we, as writers, still struggle with our manuscripts – wrangling characters, secondary plot points, theme and, sometimes, even one, damned pernickety word – at the end of the day, and at the end of the struggle, we are writers, and we love writing.
It is what we do, and perhaps in that deep, complicated way of art, it is also who we are
Kendare Blake
Of course even as I typed that last sentence a writer came to mind (brilliant; a favourite) who absolutely hates writing and only does it because she has to and it is the only thing that (barely) pays her bills, but since she doesn’t fit cosily into my narrative, for the duration of this blog post I’m going to forget that she exists.
So. We love writing.
There is a magic to the written word, a magic to storytelling, that comes closer to real magic than anything else I have found in the real world. (Excepting David Blaine but I refuse to believe he is actually from here, and by here I mean ‘our dimension’.) That I, a normal human person, possessing only one normal, human brain, can sit down and produce words that contain multitudes, that encompass the lives and experiences of entire characters, and that have a beginning, a middle and an end that spools out from someplace that I have never been…feels like magic.
Or maybe that’s just my way of getting around difficult questions of craft. After all, if writing has taught me anything it’s that I do not entirely understand the workings of my own mind. I can, when asked, give answers about craft and character development. About choices of tense and point-of-view. But no matter how constructed the answer, or how clever the tip, the advice feels incomplete. Because it is incomplete, without the magic. The intangible act of creation.
When readers ask me about my characters, I tend to reply as if they are real people. And when they softly chuckle and say, ‘you speak about them as if they’re real,’ I softly chuckle back and say, ‘that’s because they are’. And then we softly chuckle to each other until the chuckling becomes uncomfortable and we wander away in separate directions.
But when I say my characters are real, I mean it
Kendare Blake
One day, when I was puzzling away on a story concept that had to do with three magical triplet queens born on an island who must kill each other during their sixteenth year in order to determine who will next wear the crown, a shadow of one of those queens stepped forward in my ear and said, ‘Well, my name is clearly this, and I am obviously this.’ And I said, ‘Are you sure?’ because she was a stranger at that point and I had no reason to trust her, and she said, ‘Yes, I am.’ And that was that, and there she was. Over the course of the next year and a half, she would occasionally pop into my mind with something to tell me or something to show. As we became acquainted I began to ask her things, and listen in on her conversations with other people (which I have been told is rude to do but come on, we all do it) and so when I sat down to write the novel with her in it I knew her well enough to place her firmly on the page. Plop. The character has landed.
Over the course of four novels, I would get to know her better so that by the time the series ended we both knew our journey together had also ended – but I’m always happy when a reader asks me what so-and-so from one of my books is up to because it gives me an excuse to check in. Sometimes, I am forced to say that I don’t know. Couldn’t reach them. Hope they’re not dead.
I like to say that the stories I tell feel like they are streaming in from another place, that when the writing is going well it feels not like creation at all but rather a taking down of events. And I believe that. All of our stories exist in some alternate reality. I don’t believe it in such a way that I’m constantly opening up wardrobes and trying to fall through them, but be honest, searching for portals to other places does sound kind of fun and not a terrible way to live.
To many of your more pragmatic types, this is going to sound insufferable. You’ve probably actually stopped reading this blog post already and labelled me (perhaps with a label-maker that you likely have) as ‘IDIOT’ in those nice, bold black letters. I am, you will say, romanticizing the process.
To which I will reply, you bet your sweet bippy I am, because I love writing and writing is magic. So go ahead and romanticize your process. It won’t be the same as mine, probably, or maybe it will be, and that doesn’t matter. Maybe you dive straight in off of one solid sentence. Maybe you write from the middle and spool forward and back. Maybe you meticulously outline and re-outline and flesh out that outline until the outline is no longer an outline but a book. It’s all magic. And it’s all ours.
That specific magic of writers.
Enjoy writing fantasy and young adult fiction with the specialist team at The Novelry when you join us for one of our online writing courses.
November 7, 2021
Piers Torday on Writing for Children
Piers Torday is a renowned children's fiction writer who won The Guardian's Children Fiction Prize in 2014.
A former theatre and television producer, Piers Torday’s books include The Last Wild (Shortlisted for Waterstones Children’s Book Prize), The Dark Wild (Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize winner), The Wild Beyond, There May Be a Castle (People’s Book Award finalist) and The Lost Magician (Teach Primary Book Award) and The Frozen Sea. His latest book is The Wild Before (August 2021). His work has been translated into 14 languages.
We have a thriving children's fiction department at The Novelry, and we're especially excited to be welcoming Piers to The Novelry as a guest tutor soon. To whet your appetite for a wonderful session, Piers gives us his top tips on writing for children.
From the desk of Piers Torday.
Begin at the beginning
Don’t go into the woods without a map
Stay on that path, Little Red!
Follow the characters
And… Don’t forget to play!
I write full-length fiction mainly for children aged around eight to twelve, although a few confident young readers of six have read my books, as have young adult readers and adults. But those fast-moving years between eight and twelve can be – for some – a golden reading stretch.
These children are rapidly developing, equipped with expanding imaginations and endless curiosity, not yet too inhibited by self-consciousness. They are reading to discover so much for the first time, reading voraciously to work out what they like and don’t like, often reading like they have all the time in the world.
This age bracket has a depressing industry category, derived from the US educational system, ‘middle grade’ fiction. But there is nothing middle-ish in the least about a canon that stretches from E. Nesbit to Katherine Rundell, that has given millions of us our very first glimpse of what it might mean to be the hero of our own story – whoever we are, wherever we come from, in a fictional universe of multitudes, that whether fabulously fantastical or rigorously real, all have at their heart, burning and bright, the same golden star.
The star that shines with hope that better worlds yet can be made, and better still, they, the reader, have the capacity to forge them. Just to ignite one spark of that radiant light in a reader’s imagination is an achievement, because – as you will recall from your own most treasured childhood reading – once lit, they can burn eternal.
Before you set off into the dark in search of that star for the first time, here is a light or two:
Begin at the beginning
What excited you most as a child? Which rabbit holes did your instinctive curiosity most often lead you down, and what did you hope to discover there? What feeling did you yearn to understand more roundly? If you can return to the site of your foundational childhood experiences, both real and literary, and rekindle the emotions they inspired, you can begin to remember what works for child readers on the page.
Only now you are the provider, not the consumer. But by focusing on what your child self might want to read more than anything else in the world – be it a wholly absorbing fantasy quest, impeccably devised whodunnit or a richly reassuring assessment of family life – you stand a chance of gifting that pleasure authentically to the next generation.
Don’t go into the woods without a map
Once you have some idea of what you want to write about, you may decide to first design and build to scale a miniature replica of the fictional universe in your head, occupying three basement floors, created in painstaking detail, a feat of imaginative virtuosity that takes a decade of your life and ends up being a global social media sensation and ultimately donated to the V&A.
Alternatively, you may scrawl some hasty bullet points on the back of a pizza leaflet.
Or, perhaps like most of us, you will outline your book somewhere on the scale between those two extremes.
Do whatever works for you. Plan each chapter, or establish simply a beginning, middle and end. But whatever you do, remember this. Like your characters, you are setting off on a real adventure, over the arctic wastes of the blank page, into the dark and twisting woods of the imagination, and you are strongly advised to at least know:
Where, why and how your story begins
Where, why and how (roughly) you imagine it ending
Some idea of how to get there… Because otherwise, you will get lost, and not in a good way. I suggest a minimum of at least three moments, scenes or way stations in your head, at least to start with…
Children of course want to find the way themselves, but they do sometimes need a hand. You need to be one step ahead, that’s all.
Stay on that path, Little Red!
If this is your first book, beware the beasts in the bushes.
The wolves who whisper, halfway through your exploratory first draft, ‘Why are you writing this stunningly original and imaginative book, when you could be writing a book just like all the others? You do know that all bestsellers need to be identical?’ (They really don’t.)
The bats who squeak in your ear, ‘Oh dear! I’m not sure complete strangers you barely know on social media would approve of that!’
And the naughty wild boars, trotting behind you, with their tails in the air, licking their chops, ‘I think this book could be so much bigger! It’s not just about finding the golden amulet/solving the murder etc, it’s about ending world poverty too. And climate change. And all mental health. Oh, and that brilliant story about your neighbours. This could be the book of your life! Everything you ever wanted to say!’
STAY ON THE CHOSEN PATH UNTIL YOU GET TO THE END.
Then, of course, once you have a draft, you can make all sorts of changes, major and minor – but with the benefit of hindsight, not lost in the shadows of making your way. And you can always ask Grandma her advice too!
Remember, many young readers are deluged with content from multiple avenues. They don’t need your book to be about everything and all things to all people. They want the perspective that only you can bring.
Follow the characters
But of course, however detailed or loose your plan, however firm your resolve… You are in fact only drafting a book, not actually leading a polar expedition, and it is quite normal to get lost or stuck.
There are now nearly as many guides to structuring a classic, satisfying genre story as there are stories. From legendary anthropologist Joseph Miller’s The Hero’s Journey to former EastEnders producer John Yorke’s Into the Woods, there are no shortage of blueprints that tantalisingly offer a formula for fool-proof storytelling. These models try to explain the success of mainly commercial movie product by retrofitting often entirely original plots to archetypes drawn from the oldest myths and fairy tales.
They are packed full of truths and wisdoms and have much to teach any writer, of any experience about the fundamentals of storytelling. I have often consulted them, like many, and will continue to do so. But read more than one a little closely, and you will notice that – somewhat conveniently – there are as many exceptions to their systems as there are rules.
This is because the most unforgettable stories are driven by unforgettable characters. Characters that arise not from blueprints but from unique human imaginations, an alchemical fusion of DNA, memory and experience. The characters that work on the page are ones we care about as much as we would care about ourselves and those we love. They should be as unique. Establish them in the reader’s mind, make us care for them, explore their strengths and flaws, set them a clear objective located behind three or four seemingly insurmountable obstacles, and allow them to discover themselves through overcoming those obstacles, and you will always have an engaging journey.
Follow your character’s instincts at all times through the woods. Their choices may seem eccentric, frustrating, or baffling, but accept them and you will open the door to fictional creations whose story arcs are as authentic as they are compelling. When you come to edit, story maps can help you refine these arcs to best dramatic effect, but try to begin with hopes and flaws, not circles and arrows.
Who does a young reader really want to spend time with for 300 pages?
And… Don’t forget to play!
Time out from the forest is also allowed.
You might have carefully carved out precious envelopes of time to write, balancing work and family commitments. There might be times of day or night in which you find your creative flow comes more easily, and it can be frustrating when these valuable hours feel blocked, wasted or counterproductive.
Often when adults write creatively, a part of us can be searching for that magical memory of total, intense absorption in writing stories or drawing pictures, or even just playing, reading and daydreaming as a child – when time both paused and passed effortlessly.
It was probably easier when we didn’t have responsibilities or an adult’s perpetual sense of time slipping through our fingers.
But sometimes it might be worth trying to recreate that childish pleasure in creative play, to help you through days when the words don’t want to come – and those days are not infrequent.
Don’t be afraid to experiment; they’re only words. If you are blocked, even if you can’t draw, try drawing the roughest of sketches of a character or location. It can relax one part of the imagination and release another.
Keep it fun. Ask one character to give a warts-and-all, no filter description of another. You might be surprised at what comes out.
Indulge in constructive fantasy. Reimagine your story as a movie, a comic or a game. Maybe even a musical! What would you change, what would you keep? How would you break your book down into songs?
Even if nothing comes of games and exercises, being actively playful is always a better use of your precious time than staring at a blinking cursor or scrolling through the apparently effortless successes of other on social media.
Whatever you write, however you choose to write, it is a choice. No one forced you into this (I hope!). Discovering you have the means to make stuff up for other people’s entertainment is one of the greatest privileges there is. I hope you never forget to enjoy it – and then your readers will too.
Enjoy writing children's fiction with the specialist middle-grade and young adult fiction team at The Novelry when you join us for one of our online writing courses.
October 31, 2021
Writing With Evie Wyld
Evie Wyld is an award-winning writer of three novels and a graphic novel. She was born in London and brought up on both her grandparents' sugar cane farm in New South Wales, Australia, as well as in Peckham, south London, where she now runs an independent bookshop.
Her work is often experimental with her debut novel, After the Fire, a Still Small Voice (winner of the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize and the Betty Trask Award) alternating between two narratives, while her second novel, All the Birds Singing (winner of the Miles Franklin Award amongst others) is a story told in reverse. Her most recent novel, The Bass Rock, explores the lives of three women living in different centuries and the ways male violence impacts their lives.
Before her live session with The Novelry we took the opportunity to ask Evie about her journey to becoming a writer as well as her top writing tips.
How did you start writing?
I started writing as a distraction from very boring jobs – it was extended day dreaming really. And then I did the Creative Writing MA at Goldsmiths, but with no ambition to publish – I just wanted to become more articulate on paper in the hopes of getting a better job. My aim was always to get into a job where I didn’t have to work as a team or go to meetings; I thought being a proof-reader would be good for that.
What drove you to make the leap to becoming a writer?
At Goldsmiths I had a short story about an Australian girl chopping off her thumb published in their online journal, after which an agent contacted me. She asked if I’d considered writing a novel. I lied and said yes, and then once the MA was over, I gave it a go. I was pretty sure I couldn’t do it, but after four years of writing and redrafting and working with my agent, I ended up writing one after all.
Did you find it easy to get a publishing deal? What was that experience like?
There were a few publishers interested and it was ultimately bought by Jonathan Cape. I’ve had a different editor for every novel but I’ve been very lucky that they have all been excellent, and have asked the most useful questions of my books.
How do you deal with the publicity?
You had a lot of acclaim for your debut novel. Sometimes that can be both validating and daunting. How were you able to keep on writing?
My first book, After the Fire, a Still Small Voice, won a couple of prizes which meant I was able to write the next book, and the prizes from that one helped me write the one after that. The timing was just right.
Should you share work in progress?
Often writers are itching to show or discuss their first drafts to friends and family. What would you advise?
Don’t talk too much about it. Until it’s written, nothing is set in stone, but once you tell another person about your plans, it starts to solidify and this is not always a good thing. Remember that writing is a process of thinking on the page – you don’t need to have figured it out before you get writing. Write, and what you are interested in will rise to the surface.
Evie Wyld’s Top 5 Writing Tips
Read widely and pay attention to how other writers get out of difficulty – if you’re struggling to get place or character down efficiently, look at how an author you admire does it. Count how many words they do it in, write down the sentences that do the heavy lifting, and then use those sentences as something to hold on to while you write your own. The chances are these lines will end up being changed or deleted by the final draft, but more often than not it can get the difficult technical work out of the way so you can get on with getting to know your place and your person.
Be ready to execute large portions of work that you’ve put an awful lot of time into. It’s the most wonderful feeling when you can’t make something work and you’ve been writing hard about it and then you just delete the whole scene/character/monologue. There are many beautiful dead ends involved in writing a novel.
Beware of words and phrases that are unnecessary and deadening – ‘She noticed’ or ‘She looked’ are both implicit in what you describe. Worst of all ‘slightly’, ‘a bit’, ‘quite’; words that soften what you are trying to say. Remember the gaps are as important as the words. No one wants to be spoon-fed; let the reader bring themselves to your story.
Use liminal spaces as often as you think of them. Some of the work I’m most proud of happened in very unromantic places – sometimes a busy chain café in a train station is exactly what you need, and the beautiful quiet desk at home just makes you want to do your laundry.
Don’t hurry. There is no benefit to ‘getting your work out there’ if it is not the best you can do. Don’t worry about things that are happening in the world that you feel you really ought to respond to. Your response is still valid three years from now, it will be more considered, it will take time and growth into account.
Evie Wyld is the author of After the Fire, a Still Small Voice, All the Birds Singing and The Bass Rock. She has a BA from Bath Spa University in Creative Writing, an MA in Creative Writing from Goldsmiths, University of London, and has been listed by the Daily Telegraph as one of the 20 best British authors under the age of 40 and the Best of Young British Novelists by Granta.
October 30, 2021
Rashmi Sirdeshpande - Our Graduate's Story
From the desk of Rashmi Sirdesphande. A published author of children's fiction and graduate of The Novelry's courses, Rashmi is published by Puffin Books (Penguin Random House).
Pause. Reflect.
Do you make it a habit to sometimes pause and reflect on how far you’ve come? I love the idea but I don’t do it enough. I’ll add it to my list of writerly sins along with deleting old drafts, impulsively hitting ‘send’, and being useless at celebrating milestones.
But when I do stop and look back at this writing journey, it really does take my breath away. I’ve been published for just over 2 years and I have 6 children’s books out already. I’ve worked with some fantastic illustrators and 5 of our books have been up for awards (my debut picture book with Diane Ewen managed to scoop up a win too), two were Editor’s Choice in The Bookseller, one (Dosh/Cash) was a Times/Sunday Times Best Children’s Book of 2020, and one (Good News) was listed in The Guardian’s 50 Hottest New Books Everyone Should Read (2021). I couldn’t have written a better start to my writing career.
How does it feel? I can’t process it. I really can’t. If I did, I’d explode. And that’s just some of the amazing stuff that has happened. The books I’ve worked on have been translated into various different languages and are being published, read, and loved around the world. I’ve had classes named after me in primary schools (whaaat?!). I’ve been invited to speak at major literature festivals like Hay, Edinburgh, Bath, and Cheltenham. I’ve done multi-school events with thousands of children. And now I’m an official World Book Day author for 2022 with a £1 book that will reach more young readers than I could ever have dreamed possible. How does this happen?! In so little time?
I used to feel shy talking about all these achievements but now I’ll own them. Because I didn’t make these books alone. All these accolades belong to the whole team: agents, illustrators, editors, designers, copyeditors, proofreaders, production, PR, sales, marketing, rights, and everyone who has helped to bring these books to life. LUCK has been a huge factor too. I always say that. Not to take away from the hard work of all the people I’ve created these books with, but hard work is not enough in this industry. You need luck. I’ve had a lot of that. I’ve been in the right place at the right time and I’ve met people at every single stage who have opened my eyes, opened doors, made space for me, and supported me. I count my friends at The Novelry here too, where I started my journey. I’ve met an agent and editors who get what I’m trying to do with representation and reflecting our world on the page. I’m very conscious that not all writers get this lucky. Certainly not so fast.
It’s business. But it’s also personal.
Everything I’ve mentioned so far is just the industry piece. Of course we all keep the reader in mind when we write but somehow, we can still get caught up in the craft and the deadlines and that all-consuming anxiety.
But when I hear that a child has read and loved my book, I’m suddenly pulled back into my WHY. Every single time. Nothing prepared me for the personal side. It’s one thing seeing a trade review or a picture of your book in a bookshop (and yes, that is amazing!), but having a parent or teacher or librarian say that a child keeps asking for your books or won’t stop talking about them is just WOW. Hearing that a child sees themselves and their friends and their dreams in my books is something I’ll never get over. It makes it real. It makes it worth it.
Tips on writing for children.
The text needs to be clean and sparse, which Louise Dean talks about on The Novelry's writing courses – she is so spot on! This is especially true for picture books where every single word must earn its place on the page. Non-fiction, too.
You need tight text that somehow conveys all the facts accurately and in an age-appropriate way with a fantastic VOICE, maybe some humour, some style, some excitement and intrigue.
It’s a lot to ask.
It’s not an easy thing writing for children. These books are a nightmare to sell and quite an ordeal to write. It may just be me but I’ll hold my hands up and say I struggle with it. I do a great deal of messing up and a great deal of redrafting. I have to. The bar is set high by my peers in what feels like a golden age for children’s books.
I'm not a great writer, I'm a great learner.
Write, learn, stretch, grow, repeat.
I may be bad at reflecting and celebrating but I am very much aware of how amazing it is that I’m able to make books in this tricky industry. Thanks to that generous sprinkling of luck, I’ve got my foot in the door and I plan to hold it open for as many other writers as I can. I’m grateful to be here and to be writing (and eventing and filming and doing all these things I had no idea were part of being a children’s writer).
More importantly, I’m grateful to be growing. Constantly. Shaping clay, polishing diamonds - roll with the analogy that works for you. It works for story and it works for the writer. You write, learn, stretch, grow, repeat.
Wondrous things happen along the way but you keep your head down and you keep working. That’s my plan anyway. I know that every so often I will be stuck and scrunch up my work and bang my head against my desk and compare myself to real writers. But then a parent or teacher or librarian will tell me about a child who really needed one of my books and I’ll come back to my WHY again. And I’ll listen. And I’ll cry. Instantly. Then I’ll get back to work.
Rashmi Sirdeshpande took The Classic Course and The Ninety-Day Novel® at The Novelry. Both courses are available separately or bundled together in The Novel Kickstarter Plan. Start today! Members can enjoy a recorded live session with Rashmi in our Catch Up TV area.
October 23, 2021
Editing 101
By Lizzy Goudsmit Kay: Editorial Director and published author of Seven Lies.
There is something inevitably chaotic about the first draft of a new novel. Who are these characters? Where are they going? You can experiment with tenses and voices. You can shift the sex, age or outlook of your characters between one page and the next. You can switch countries or seasons, if you so choose, following your instincts and trusting the story. There are no poor decisions. There are no set-in-stone answers. There is only the blank page before you and the words that feel right in that moment.
It doesn’t matter if you identify as a ‘plotter’ or a ‘pantser’; you can be sure of very little in the first draft. Even if you are the type of writer who crafts a detailed plan before committing to a single sentence, you might still discover that a character has a mind of his or her own and walks off in an unexpected direction. There was no way to know that beforehand; it’s simply part of the process.
For many, that’s the joy of the first draft: the intense, limitless creativity, that sense of bounding into the unknown.
But not for me.
I like writing; but I prefer editing.
I am far more comfortable knowing who’s who and what’s what. Which is often discovered in the second draft (or even the third, fourth, fifth, maybe fifteenth draft!). This is the process of editing: reworking and revising until something really makes sense and finally starts to shine. It’s holding an entire story in the palm of one hand and picking at it with the other, moving sentences, characters, even entire storylines into new positions. It’s interrogating every decision that you made in the first draft and asking yourself: Does this feel right? Does this feel true?
If you can do this, then you’re an editor.
And there’s no way to be a great writer without being a great editor.
(Yes, there are people like me who will ask you all sorts of tricky questions about plot and character, about structure and language. But it’s the writer who decides the answers and is responsible for weaving them into the story.)
So where should you start when you’ve finished the first draft and are thinking about adding some good sense and a dazzling shine to your manuscript? Here’s a list of ten key things to keep in mind:
Cut, cut, cut
Why are we here?
Character mapping
Show, don't tell
Tell us something we don't know
Start your story!
The midpoint
Wordy words and more words
A satisfying ending
Be kind
1. Cut, cut, cut
I’m sorry to tell you this, but it is unlikely that every character and every idea in your first draft is a good one. There are probably a few bland and wooden characters wandering around but doing very little. We don’t need them. CUT! There might be a storyline that felt great initially but disappears partway through and doesn’t feel worth reviving. CUT! There might be – and there often is – a nugget that was there at the moment you decided to write this novel. It might even be what inspired the novel. But is it still serving a purpose? Often, we cling to these things, believing them to be the backbone of our story, when in fact the story has grown away from them. CUT! It is not an easy thing to look at a first draft and identify the parts worth keeping and the parts that need to be let go, particularly when all of that story means something to you, but it’s one of the most important parts of the process. My advice is that if you’re in doubt about any one element, it probably needs to go.
“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler's heart, kill your darlings.”
Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
2. Why are we here?
After you’ve identified everything that no longer deserves to be in your manuscript, it’s time to start thinking about the things that definitely do deserve to be there.
Assuming there are characters (there are, right?) then the next most important thing to consider is motivation. There are few things worse than characters who simply meander through a story. Your key players need agency, a goal to work towards. Your secondary players need purpose, a way to contribute to another arc.
Why are they there? What are they doing? What do they want?
If they’ve survived your initial cull, then you need to be able to answer these questions for every single one of your characters, from those who appear in all of your chapters to those who appear in just a paragraph.
If you can’t, you have two choices: 1) See #1, or 2) See #3.
3. Character mapping
There are many different ways to ensure that your characters feel multi-dimensional and authentic and we teach you those in the novel writing course, but – in my opinion – the easiest way is to take them out with you for a few days, a little like a pet. Imagine them in every situation. What are they like at the supermarket? Do they write a list in advance or wing it when they get there? Do they use the self-check-out or prefer human interaction? Do they remember to bring their own bags or pay for another plastic one? How do they feel about buses? Would they prefer to walk? What if it’s raining?
If you have a few key characters, take them each out for a day. Do you know how they behave in different situations? Can you pinpoint the moment where they finally snap? What’s their coffee order? Did they pack a lunch? Perhaps take a couple of them out simultaneously to see how they fit together. Where are the alliances? Where are the tensions?
If you can answer all of these questions easily, then you likely know your characters well enough to draw them on a page and to make them feel believable.
4. Show don't tell
This is the most common – and probably most frustrating – feedback to receive. What does it mean? Why does it matter? If you were to tell me that your protagonist went on an amazing adventure to a school where the teachers were witches and wizards who taught magic and that your character felt more at home there than they’d ever felt anywhere else, I’d say SHOW ME!
I want to see them arriving at this school. I want to see (and therefore understand) what makes it so special. I want to see them settling in and becoming their best self. I don’t need you tell me what’s going on; I need you to become an artist with a canvas, drawing me these scenes.
It is the difference between witnessing something from a distance and being right there in the middle of it. It is the difference between readers understanding your story and genuinely feeling it. And we want the latter. We want them to laugh and cry, to be there on those pages with us.
5. Tell us something we don't know!
We know that the sky is blue. We know that the grass is green. We don’t need to be told these things again in a manuscript and, when we are, they tend not to have much impact. But if you show your reader that the sky is orange and describe something majestic happening at sunrise, that could feel powerful and intriguing. And if you tell them that the grass is straw-like and yellow, they can see that story instantly: the long hot spell that led to that dry grass. How can you push this even further? When, for example, might the grass be blue? (I immediately imagine a child spilling paint, but I know that you’ll have many more ideas!)
Challenge yourself to tell your reader something new or, even better, something old in a new way. There are so many blue skies. Take us somewhere else.
6. Start your story
I am an unashamedly lazy reader. I am impatient and I will become easily frustrated if there’s nothing near the beginning of your novel for me to hold onto. I’m willing and waiting, my hands outstretched, but you need to give the end of a piece of string, one that will be woven through the centre of your story. It could be an interesting and unexpected character, someone that makes me want to ask questions. It could be exquisite prose or an entirely new setting. But, more often than not, it’s a plot-thread. I would encourage you to think really carefully about where your story actually starts. It should be on the first page and, if not, then within the first few. Set that thread down so that you can gently pull your reader through the hundreds of pages that will follow.
7. The midpoint
It’s important for your novel to take a reader from A to B. But the unfortunate reality is that a very good sentence can do that too. You have to keep them following that thread, and so two letters of the alphabet probably aren’t going to be enough. You’re going to need to go from A to Z, via every other letter. Which means that at some point – near the middle – you’re going to hit M and the very important midpoint to your novel.
This is where everything changes. There’s no going back. There is absolutely no way for your characters to return to A.
Make sure there’s a moment in the middle that serves as the point of no return: a realisation, an argument, a death. It doesn’t much matter what you choose, but it has to switch things up for your characters and for your readers too.
8. Wordy words and more words
If you had a superpower, you’d want to use it as often as possible, right? Wrong. You’ve read the books. You’ve seen the films. You can’t use magic all day every day without expecting some consequences. Writing is your superpower. Words are your magic. But don’t get carried away. Use only the words that you absolutely need. Be selective. Be picky. Get rid of everything that isn’t absolutely essential.
“So the writer who breeds more words than he needs, is making a chore for the reader who reads.”
Dr. Seuss
9. A satisfying ending
You can end on a high. You can end on a low. But the most important thing is to ensure that your ending is in some way satisfying. It can still be dark or unexpected or devastating, but it needs to make sense. You want your reader to reach the final pages of your novel and think Oh! Of course! There are many different ways to do this. Perhaps the characters finally get together, after pages of will-they-won’t-they. Perhaps it’s a shocking twist in a crime novel that perfectly explains the few remaining loose threads. Perhaps – and this is often my favourite – it’s your character finally finding the thing they’ve been searching for since A, the beginning of the novel, but that B to Y have revealed to them it wasn’t what they wanted after all. Heart-breaking!
10. Be kind
There is no easy way to edit a book. It requires you to read your story – something you’ve worked so hard on already – and to be the critical voice that finds the faults. So don’t forget to be kind to yourself too. Congratulate yourself on each and every brilliant sentence; they’re definitely there, so make sure to see them. Acknowledge the characters that leap off the page and feel fully formed already. Recognise that editing feels tough because it is tough.
There will likely be several rounds of edits – at least; maybe many more – and you’re going to have to be kind to yourself to get through them. You don’t have to edit every day. You can do big smiley faces in the margins. You can skip the tricky bits and come back to them later. You are the one in charge, here, so take your time and settle in for the ride.
Happy editing!
Lizzy and the Editorial Team at The Novelry
Announcing: The New and Improved Big Edit!
What's new on THE BIG EDIT?
We – the editorial team – have revamped and revised THE BIG EDIT, keeping all your favourite and best-loved elements while adding some new ideas and additional material.
You wanted a straightforward guide to formatting. It’s here!
You wanted to meet the editorial team? We say a proper hello and welcome in the very first lesson.
You wanted the course to offer some contemporary examples of structure, sentences, openers, etc. We’ve packed these lessons with all sorts of brilliant books you know and have read recently: from Harry Potter and A Game of Thrones to The Couple Next Door and Girl, Woman, Other.
You wanted more editing tips and tricks? DONE!
You wanted to be able to write a stand-out synopsis? There’s more information than ever before in that lesson.
You wanted to write a brilliant pitch letter? There are two new lessons to guide you.
There is plenty here to help you take your first draft to a finished manuscript and, to celebrate the launch of the revised The Big Edit we have also added a new optional feedback add-on for you, a little like a mini-manuscript assessment: THE SPOTLIGHT EDIT.
The Spotlight Edit is your chance to get your story straight from the start. We'll do the heavy lifting! Our team will work on your first chapters, marking up the manuscript with notes on excellent language, brilliant images, fantastic introductions to characters – as well as areas that could be improved. The feedback will be detailed and insightful, and – more importantly – will be applicable not only to these chapters but to the entire manuscript. We’ll also go through your book's chaptered outline or synopsis in detail, looking at the overall narrative arc – to include character development and the key plot points – and make sure it feels satisfying and engaging throughout.
You’ll receive a beautifully presented and detailed report with a clear action plan for completing the next draft of your novel and a 30-minute video debrief with your editor so that you ask those niggling questions. Special introductory price just £349 *
And now with NEW and IMPROVED literary agencies.
Did you know The Novelry is the online writing course recommended by more literary agencies than any other? Take a look at our list of partner leading literary agencies in the UK and the USA just crying out to see our graduates' brilliant novels.
Get editing, folks! See you on the sunny side of a pitch-perfect manuscript.
October 16, 2021
How to Prepare for Writing a Novel – Katie Fforde
From the Desk of Katie Fforde
Right at the beginning of my writing career, when I was trying to write novels for Mills and Boon (easy to read, incredibly hard to write) someone suggested it was easier to get historicals published. There was a shortage.
I quickly worked out a plot (hugely derivative – basically the girl dresses up as a boy to follow her love to sea) and went on to read a lot of novels by Patrick O’Brian as my research (I really enjoyed them!). All I had to do was start.
I did start, but I was only halfway down the first page when I realised I didn’t know what they wrote with on ships during the Napoleonic wars and my plot hung on me knowing this. I could probably have found out but it would have taken me weeks (which makes me think that Patrick O’B, a stickler for research and expert in the most obscure and finicky bits of rigging, possibly didn’t know, otherwise, why hadn’t it ever come up in any of his many novels?).
Luckily, the telephone rang while I was wondering how to get around this small but important lack of information and I was introduced to an agent, who kindly took me on. I didn’t have to write historicals anymore because she was interested in a contemporary novel for a publisher other than Mills and Boon. I was so relieved it took me over thirty years before I even considered writing something that was not set in a period I was living in.
I've always done quite a lot of work to prepare for writing a novel regardless of the time period. Considering I’m a writer, I find it quite hard to make things up. When my characters get engagement rings (which they don’t always) I have to look online and find the perfect one. This is time-consuming, and when you add me having to find the sort of Christmas present you might find on a brocante stall in Provence suitable for a nine-year-old, the opportunities for procrastination are second-to-none.
Although my characters are very important to me I mostly have a theme and then think ‘what sort of person would do this?’
I always feel guilty about this. I like to think that my books are character-led and I think once I’ve worked out what sort of woman loves pottery (or whatever) they are character-led. But I feel that proper writers have a character in their head who just happens to be a potter.
Having found my theme, I then have to find out about it. To begin with, I only wrote about things I knew but soon ran out of them. So then I had to research - and pottery was an early example. But it was while doing this that I learnt a valuable lesson. I had planned to watch my friend who worked in the same café I worked in while she made pots. She had other ideas. She made me try and throw a pot and get my hands in the clay.
‘Getting my hands in the clay’ became my rule.
I had written getting on for thirty contemporary novels when I suddenly decided I was going to write a series of novels set in the 60s. And as I don’t have a time machine, I had to use the internet - which was probably what I’d have ended up doing in lockdown anyway.
My starting point was a course I took in the 70s. It was my friend and fellow writer Jo Thomas who suggested it, saying, ‘you’ve never written about that cookery course you did’. Jo saw it as a TV series (I wish!) but I saw it as three novels set in the 60s, which I thought sounded far more fun than the 70s. Once I’d convinced my editor this was a good idea, I set about the research. I’ve always admired the research that historical writers do. I always believed I couldn’t do it. And yet somehow I had committed myself to write a trio of non-contemporary novels so I had to get on with it.
The concept, three girls on a cookery course, all there for different reasons, came to me instantly, and so did the characters of the three girls. This was a pleasant surprise as usually, I spend a lot of time thinking about the people I’m going to write about. Mostly, my protagonists have been closely based on myself. While all of my three girls share something of me, they are fairly different. Alexandra, for example, has all sorts of characteristics I would love to have but absolutely do not. Next, I had to find out what sort of a world these young women would be living in.
I read Virginia Nicholson’s book about women in the 60s. This was quite eye-opening as I’d always assumed the 60s were fairly liberated for women (I was only a girl at the time). Not so! The pill may have been invented and women were often expected to have sex with their boyfriends, but there the liberation ended. Women still did all the cooking and cleaning and looking after their husbands. Many of them were brought up to do only this. My mother was more advanced: she thought I should have a satisfying job and do all the cooking and cleaning. Once babies came along, all thought of work outside the home was over unless you were either very poor or very lucky. I read of women who gave up the careers they loved to look after their children and bitterly resented the children because of it. I read of one woman who had her pearls taken away by her husband for years because she said ‘bloody’. Another was made to give up playing tennis because it was a waste of time. So you couldn’t work and you couldn’t have hobbies. Although some women did have careers and a marriage it was rare. Not very liberated after all.
As a reader, I am incredibly fussy when I come across anachronisms in historical fiction. I can get really quite aerated by a wrongly placed lemon drizzle cake (not invented until the late 60s – not during the Second World War) or when first and second class post came in (also the 60s, not the late 19th century, as one book had it). Thus it was even more important for me to get the details right.
I had a few huge advantages though because not only was I alive in the 60s but I am terribly old fashioned in my use of language. And, of course, as mentioned, I had the internet!
I think lockdown was hugely helpful. The world was all so different, so unreal, that putting myself down the rabbit hole back into my early teens began to feel normal. But I didn’t dare leave anything to chance. I remembered, and so checked, that the Victoria Line wasn’t opened until l968. My book is set several years earlier and sadly I never had the opportunity for one character to say to another, ‘if only there was a tube line that would take us to Pimlico.’ My characters (well, one of them) went to Sloane Square and walked to Pimlico just as I had done all those years ago.
I took to checking everything obsessively. When was there first a market on Portobello Road? Centuries ago apparently, so I was all right there. And when did people first start wearing tights? I remember that myself: the relief of not struggling with stockings that weren’t long enough, even if you bought the biggest size and had a bit of heel halfway up the back of your leg. But I still had to check the year.
You have to get the details right for the whole thing to come alive.
Katie Fforde is the author of 4 number one bestsellers. Published since 1995, her romance novels are set in modern-day England. She lives in the Cotswold countryside with her family. Each of her books explores a different profession or background and her research has helped her bring these to life.
She’s been a porter in an auction house, tried her hand at pottery, refurbished furniture, delved behind the scenes of a dating website, and she's even been on a Ray Mears survival course. She believes falling in love is the best thing in the world, and she wants all her characters to experience it, and her readers to share their stories.
Join us for the live Q&A session with Katie Fforde in conversation with our own Kate Riordan.
October 9, 2021
Writing Science Fiction and Fantasy at The Novelry
If you're writing speculative fiction, ensure your first reader is an experienced SFF editor to master your magic and future proof your science fiction.
'How do they feed all their dragons? How come that entire magical race that has existed for hundreds of thousands of years only has a single language and a monoculture? If they’re travelling faster than the speed of light how do they see where they’re going? How come everyone refers to The City as The City? Is there only one? Why?' Craig Leyenaar.
Craig Leyenaar joins The Novelry from Titan Books, the famous publisher of science fiction, fantasy, horror, thriller and speculative fiction including graphic and comic novels. He joins us as an editor – and with his amazing SFF (science fiction and fantasy) expertise, – as a tutor too. He's ready to turn your writing dreams into – well – something bigger and better than reality. Over to Craig.
From the Desk of Craig Leyenaar
Hello everybody! Three weeks in, and The Novelry is feeling like home. Everyone has been so welcoming, and the enthusiasm and knowledge of the writers, tutors and editors have been incredible.
It’s been a pleasure to see how many speculative writers there are here. And I want to say. I’m here for you. I’m here for the writers with the weird ideas, the silly ideas that you’ve not wanted to tell people about for fear of being looked down upon or thought of as ‘not a serious writer’. I call bullshit on all of that, and I say: be proud of writing speculatively!
To me, it’s the most imaginative and all-encompassing of all the genres. There’s nothing silly about it, and even if there is it that can be seriously punchy. Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels are just a couple of examples of serious literature written not-so-seriously.
And remember, the most successful stories of all time have all been pretty much speculative, right the word go with the Epic of Gilgamesh. The two biggest selling individual books of all time are fantasy titles. And nine of the ten top grossing films of all time are all fantastical in some way.
I’m here to provide editorial support, help, guidance, and cheerleading on your writing journey. As well as to provide insight into weird and wonderful world of writing SFF. World-building (which is entire series of posts on its own); metaphor and allegory; subverting tropes; the endless genres and sub-genres; how long is too long when it comes epic fantasy; why the Chosen One should be chosen last; is science fiction just fantasy with plausible deniability; committing to your story; the Hero’s Journey as tragedy; insight into the Mysteries of Publishing; and the use and abuse of Proper Nouns in fantasy writing, or, when does the book become the Book? I’m here for it all!
As both a reader and editor, I’ve always found SFF’s fecundity endlessly fascinating. Science fiction, fantasy and horror are frameworks in which you can tell any kind of story you choose. They’re environments in which you can play without restriction. China Miéville has said that he wants to write a story in every genre (Embassytown is hard sf, Perdido Street Station is a classic quest narrative, Railsea is YA, etc), Zen Cho’s Sorceror to the Crown is a Regency romance with wizards, Alastair Reynolds’ The Prefect is a police procedural, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke is alternative history. These are all such vastly different novels it becomes strange to think of them categorised as simply science fiction or fantasy. And so, when it comes to SFF I would suggest writing your story and then figuring out which genre it is later (there will be one that fits, don’t worry).
And now, I suppose I ought to tell you a little bit about myself. I moved to Cape Town at the age of eight, but only began reading sometime later when – for reasons still unknown to me – we had no television in the house for a year. It changed my life and I never stopped even after our television privileges had been reinstated. I had the honour of being reprimanded for reading in class by teachers, which seems rather counter-intuitive. I didn’t know anyone else who read fiction as I did, as it wasn’t that sort of place, even at the university and so the world of publishing wasn’t something I had ever considered – it was like when you’re a kid and think about the Arctic or Antarctica – you’re aware of their existence as large, blobby places on the map but they’re concepts rather than real locations and you certainly don’t think you will be visiting them.
It was only after several years of travelling around, seeing all the wonderful strangeness of the world and finding myself filled with ideas that I first began to consider: who were these people who created the books I’d spent years of my life reading?
And so a decade ago, I came back to the UK and undertook an MA in Creative Writing at Warwick. It had the opposite effect than I imagine was intended. It made writing no longer enjoyable. But it did demonstrate the joys of the editorial process to me and so led me to becoming an editor; it also showed me how not to teach writing.
If you’re here with us at The Novelry, or thinking about signing up for a novel writing course with us and weighing it up versus an academic creative writing degree, an MA or MFA in creative writing, all I can say is if I had the choice now between the two, I know which I would choose in a heartbeat.
Having experienced authors and editors look at your work critically yet supportively is so crucial that if you only ever remember one piece of advice it should be this: Find Chidi. If that makes no sense then stop what you’re doing and go and watch The Good Place, but just means you should find someone both supportive and constructively critical who takes your work and your career goals as a writer seriously. That is truly transformative.
Yes, there may be some segues into writing craft at times as the poetics of each genre are key to writing them effectively, but the fundamental difference is that the craft theory is there to service the story. If it doesn’t work toss it and try something else. Tools not rules as I’m sure you’ve heard here at The Novelry. And I’m excited about helping you break the rules and craft some new tools.
The editorial process takes time and there aren’t any shortcuts. The one common trait of every published author I know is that of persistence.
It’s a marathon not a sprint. And as an editor and tutor my role is to be cheerleader and coach, but it will be you who crosses the finish line. Because it is your story. Remember that. Yours is the last word on anything you write as it is your name on the cover.
Editing speculative fiction involves all the standard feedback and more: looking at voice, style, dialogue, pace, character, plot, world-building, etc but also often means playing the role of first reader and asking those obvious questions such as: How do they feed all their dragons? How come that entire magical race that has existed for hundreds of thousands of years only has a single language and a monoculture? If they’re travelling faster than the speed of light how do they see where they’re going? How come everyone refers to The City as The City? Is there only one? Why?
So, that’s me, and I look forward to exploring all the worlds you have created and all those you will create in The Novelry.
I’m here for you.
Happy writing!
Craig
When you sign up for one of our Book in a Year plans at The Novelry, you'll have a year to create your science fiction or fantasy masterpiece for adults, young adults or children with our amazing team of tutors and editors including Tasha Suri, Polly Ho-Yen and Katie Khan. Now with SFF monthly workshops and a devoted SFF online writers' community. Sign up and start today. Happy writing!