How I Wrote a Novel in Four Months
Hello!
My name is Sabrina, and until last year I had no idea how to go from story idea to actual novel. As of now, I've written TWO novels, the first of which can be found here. It's a sci-fi epic, a dystopian look at the world centuries into severe climate change. I wrote it, and its sequel, in four months.
The series started out as a six-chapter attempt at...something...and stayed that way until my friend essentially demanded that I post more than one chapter a month. Now it's two volumes, each around 600-700 pages, and I still find things to write about in the characters' fictional lives, to the glee of some of my advance readers. (One half-complained that I hadn't worked the additional material into the plot. I responded that the book was already 700ish pages!)
I can now, thank God, consider myself a published author. Below, I present my thoughts on what worked, what didn't, and how writing a novel changed my perspective on writing in general. (I've been a professional science writer for several years.) Given the length of this guide, I've divided it up into chapters, to be posted ASAP.
I've included both some of my reflections on the process and writer tips, which I've put in bold.
Someone suggested I made this information into a book and sell it, but I'd like to keep it free to help aspiring writers. That said, it is copyrighted - please don't share without linking back to this/proper attribution!
-------------------------------------------
PART ONE
For our first stop, behold the Swamp. This is where half-thought-out ideas have floated for months, sometimes years, on end, perhaps being brought up on the author's (my) screen at some point, only to be abandoned to the murk yet again.
I did not actually call this part of the writing process the Swamp. I called it I Have A Job, which was definitely an excuse for I Don't Know How To Make These Ideas Into Novels (since I wrote an entire master's thesis while also Having a Job).
It is, however, possible to exit the swamp, to charge forth upon the shining plains...
Just kidding, a little. Novel-writing is not quite that dramatic, at least for me. It mostly involved staring at my screen and thinking through plot issues/writing a series of events in a notebook while drinking caffeine and searching online for a fair amount of questionable things. But it doesn't have to be a chore. Writing can be hard. But it can also be amazing.
And there is a method to it.
-
It was a dark and stormy...well, literally, it was dark(ish) and stormy outside when the idea for my novel Aestus came into my head.
I was standing in a bus station, having just escaped an incoming thunderstorm, and was glaring down the bus tunnel, wondering why certain buses were taking so long to get there. It was...unpleasant weather, burning hot, the storm close to breaking, so loud you could hear the thunder despite being underground, and you could almost see the humidity in the air. I stood there and waited, hearing nothing but the WWWAAAAAGHHH of fans roaring in the background and resenting certain aspects of public transportation (and extreme heat, and humidity, not in that order).
As I stood there, miserable, it occurred to me that this could (God forbid) be our future: waiting for a bus to come to take us, not out into the blazing-hot muggy world, but down. Down into an underground city where some of us could ride out the worst of climate change. What if, I thought, that was what I was waiting for right now? A bus to take me down into the Earth, into the blackness, where at least it might be cool?
What would that look like? How far down would it be? How scary would such a ride be? What if that bus broke down halfway there? In the dark? With not enough water and no light?
What if there was another reason that they needed a bus to protect them?
Creatures that could see them in the dark?
With claws? (I have an active imagination.)
That experience in the bus station became the following opening chapter from Aestus:
I loved the idea. I wrote up a few chapters and put them on a blog. I asked for feedback, and I tried to construct a plot that I could carry over the course of 200 pages or so, but I had no idea how to expand it, how to turn five pages of plot or so into 200+ pages of text. So I let it sit for months and months in the Swamp. My little story floated, near-abandoned, in the murky waters for quite a while, until (as mentioned) my friend basically complained to me that he wanted to read my writing but got an update of a chapter a month. (Writing tip: having an audience can be very motivating.)
I tried to get it restarted. I had tried to map out the plot previously, and I had a decent structure going, but I was missing something. I wasn't sure what. I couldn't get the little seed of a plot to bloom into anything.
Then I figured it out.
-
Click here for Part Two
© 2020 S. Z. Attwell
My name is Sabrina, and until last year I had no idea how to go from story idea to actual novel. As of now, I've written TWO novels, the first of which can be found here. It's a sci-fi epic, a dystopian look at the world centuries into severe climate change. I wrote it, and its sequel, in four months.
The series started out as a six-chapter attempt at...something...and stayed that way until my friend essentially demanded that I post more than one chapter a month. Now it's two volumes, each around 600-700 pages, and I still find things to write about in the characters' fictional lives, to the glee of some of my advance readers. (One half-complained that I hadn't worked the additional material into the plot. I responded that the book was already 700ish pages!)
I can now, thank God, consider myself a published author. Below, I present my thoughts on what worked, what didn't, and how writing a novel changed my perspective on writing in general. (I've been a professional science writer for several years.) Given the length of this guide, I've divided it up into chapters, to be posted ASAP.
I've included both some of my reflections on the process and writer tips, which I've put in bold.
Someone suggested I made this information into a book and sell it, but I'd like to keep it free to help aspiring writers. That said, it is copyrighted - please don't share without linking back to this/proper attribution!
-------------------------------------------
PART ONE
For our first stop, behold the Swamp. This is where half-thought-out ideas have floated for months, sometimes years, on end, perhaps being brought up on the author's (my) screen at some point, only to be abandoned to the murk yet again.
I did not actually call this part of the writing process the Swamp. I called it I Have A Job, which was definitely an excuse for I Don't Know How To Make These Ideas Into Novels (since I wrote an entire master's thesis while also Having a Job).
It is, however, possible to exit the swamp, to charge forth upon the shining plains...
Just kidding, a little. Novel-writing is not quite that dramatic, at least for me. It mostly involved staring at my screen and thinking through plot issues/writing a series of events in a notebook while drinking caffeine and searching online for a fair amount of questionable things. But it doesn't have to be a chore. Writing can be hard. But it can also be amazing.
And there is a method to it.
-
It was a dark and stormy...well, literally, it was dark(ish) and stormy outside when the idea for my novel Aestus came into my head.
I was standing in a bus station, having just escaped an incoming thunderstorm, and was glaring down the bus tunnel, wondering why certain buses were taking so long to get there. It was...unpleasant weather, burning hot, the storm close to breaking, so loud you could hear the thunder despite being underground, and you could almost see the humidity in the air. I stood there and waited, hearing nothing but the WWWAAAAAGHHH of fans roaring in the background and resenting certain aspects of public transportation (and extreme heat, and humidity, not in that order).
As I stood there, miserable, it occurred to me that this could (God forbid) be our future: waiting for a bus to come to take us, not out into the blazing-hot muggy world, but down. Down into an underground city where some of us could ride out the worst of climate change. What if, I thought, that was what I was waiting for right now? A bus to take me down into the Earth, into the blackness, where at least it might be cool?
What would that look like? How far down would it be? How scary would such a ride be? What if that bus broke down halfway there? In the dark? With not enough water and no light?
What if there was another reason that they needed a bus to protect them?
Creatures that could see them in the dark?
With claws? (I have an active imagination.)
That experience in the bus station became the following opening chapter from Aestus:
"The tunnels were burning.
Jossey stood watching the condensation running down the rough-hewn walls in the flickering light, waiting for the shuttle to come and take her deeper underground, to the safe zone. The fans were on down far below, a constant blasting in the background, but the air was barely moving. She fumbled in her bag for the tin of water, reassuring herself for the fifth time that it was there. Sweat poured from her, and from the other workers staring dead-eyed at the floor or wall, waiting for the evening transport to arrive.
It wasn't like the shuttle to be this late. Storms were already rocking the atmosphere above them, and the thunder could be heard, dully, above the fans deep in the tunnels. She hoped she had enough water to last if the transport was delayed again.
Jossey checked the red safety gauge on her wrist. 110 degrees, and that was cooler than it had been earlier in the day, before the storms. She wiped at her forehead, tried to make herself more comfortable without actually opening the tin; water had to be strictly rationed."
- Aestus, Book 1, The City: Chapter 2
I loved the idea. I wrote up a few chapters and put them on a blog. I asked for feedback, and I tried to construct a plot that I could carry over the course of 200 pages or so, but I had no idea how to expand it, how to turn five pages of plot or so into 200+ pages of text. So I let it sit for months and months in the Swamp. My little story floated, near-abandoned, in the murky waters for quite a while, until (as mentioned) my friend basically complained to me that he wanted to read my writing but got an update of a chapter a month. (Writing tip: having an audience can be very motivating.)
I tried to get it restarted. I had tried to map out the plot previously, and I had a decent structure going, but I was missing something. I wasn't sure what. I couldn't get the little seed of a plot to bloom into anything.
Then I figured it out.
-
Click here for Part Two
© 2020 S. Z. Attwell
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