A Novel is a Writer’s Mad Science Experiment
Over the past couple days, I’ve been talking a bit about my novels’ style and structure.
As a writer, I am constantly trying to improve my grasp of the writing craft. I developed my skills as an editor in part because I love to see others’ writing styles and work with them to hone it. I workshop my friends’ work and will hopefully have time to start critiquing again on Scribophile as well.
When it comes to writing my books, I like to challenge myself with each story. So instead of just writing a novel—which is no small feat, don’t get me wrong—I also choose something to challenge the story and improve my understanding of writing.
Admittedly, my first novel (Lichgates—Grimoire Trilogy #1) was an experiment in actually finishing a book, draft one to published. I had the freedom to let this be my primary focus because I’d spent seven years developing the world, plot, and characters, so I didn’t have to narrow my focus too much to still produce my best work.
Book two in the Grimoire Trilogy (Treason) is another matter. When I sat down to actually write it, I knew the draft-writing process. I understood how to make schedules, who to go to for editing, how to market, how to prepare the release and blog tour.
With book two, I could stretch my legs a little bit. I could experiment.
So I sat back and thought about the book’s purpose. What was the core reason for including it? The age-old advice is to add only what is necessary, so what would define my second book?
As you know, the novel is called Treason. That’s because I ultimately chose to make it an experiment in betrayal.
There are several types of betrayal, and I wanted to experiment with them. Which were the most effective? Which were cliché? Which were just stupid and needed to be ignored? Which could I pull off brilliantly? Which just wouldn’t work with my story?
I didn’t include all types of betrayal, of course (how much of a spoiler alert would that be??) and the novel isn’t riddled with back-stabbers. No, please don’t think that’s what this is about. I was simply able to analyze the various implementations of betrayal and use some of Treason to employ what I’d learned. This way, I could add another tool to my writer’s toolkit.
My biggest discovery: what can appear as a betrayal to one character is a saving grace to another. It’s all in the character’s point of view, and that gave me wide range to experiment.
One of these days, maybe I’ll write a post that dissects this thematic undercurrent in Treason, but I’d much rather see what you guys find. It’s so amazing when someone hits the nail on the head in a review (like this one of Lichgates)…it’s remarkable to know that my intent was delivered.
I always aim to write an entertaining story. That’s first and foremost, no matter what, and I think that should be every fiction writer’s goal. But then, if the reader is so inclined, they can hunt for the layers of depth I wrote into that story: themes, symbols, motifs, parallels, allegories. These layers give way to alternate explanations, deeper understanding, and hopefully a really fun treasure hunt filled with “aha!” moments.
To my authors out there: push yourself! Experiment. Let every novel stretch you and teach you something. If it’s not teaching you anything, then what’s the point? What have you learned from recent books you’ve written?
To my readers: I hope you enjoyed this look into Treason. I’ll continue to post my experiments with my novels, but please let me know what you see, too! I don’t talk about everything on my blog, so it’ll be wonderful to see if you pick up on the nuances of the series and my future work.
Stay awesome!
