Four pillars of the first draft

So a while ago I gave you the geekiest view of novel writing from a practical perspective, I thought I should write something about the  emotional side before I forget it all.

Of course, I can't talk about that without talking about:

The Fear

Lots of writers have it (I'd say all but there's probably some zen-like being somewhere who has got past that point) and of course, I'm one of them, but I'm a lot less afraid of the first draft than I used to be.

Why is writing scary? I don't know. In my case, practically everything is scary, so it's nothing new, but writing does have a fear flavour all of its own. My theory is that when the story is in my head it's perfect. Then I have to press it into word form and being a perfectionist, there's a natural "Oh no I won't be able to create something as perfect as the trillion pound budget movie that plays in my head" moment.

What's important though is how to deal with it, and over the last two years I've worked really hard to figure out the best way to carry on writing, even when my guts are cramping with terror. I've talked about this elsewhere, but it's relevant: whenever I sit down to write a first draft I say out loud "I give myself permission to write complete and utter crap." Sometimes I also need to have a cup of tea and calm down, reminding myself that I'm just sitting down and writing one word after another. I mean, it's not like I'm about to perform open heart surgery. No-one is going to die if I get this wrong. And anyway, first drafts are supposed to be rubbish. Right?

Momentum

One thing I have noticed is that whenever real life gets in the way of having time every day to write, the Fear creeps back in. It doesn't matter how far into the novel I am, nor which part I am about to write. If I don't write every day, some part of me, one that I suspect is constantly looking around like a nervous field mouse, starts to fret and think silly, anxious thoughts when it's no longer just focused on the story.

That's why daily writing helps, and why a daily word count goal in particular seems to be working for me at the moment. When the fear has crept back in, wanting to get at least a thousand words onto the page can trick that field mouse into focusing on something objective and practical. "It's just a thousand words," I tell it, stroking the twitching, nervous little thing between the ears. "Just a thousand words, and they don't even have to be perfect."

Once I get going again, the mouse is so busy watching the story unfold, it forgets to be nervous. Honestly, sometimes life just feels like looking after a timid bunch of children and small creatures that have set up house inside me.

Momentum also helps on an instinctive level – when I know that 1000 words should ideally take around forty minutes to write (with a calm sea and a good wind behind you), and I'm reaching the three hours later and only 750 words point, something is up. Either it's me or the scene, but if I am fit and raring to go, then it's easier to stop and consider why the scene isn't flowing. If I'm rusty and cranking back up to my daily word count fitness, it's harder to tell if it's the rust or the scene. Does that make sense?

Immersion

Momentum also has the benefit of creating immersion – and that's why I've been so sporadic in my blog writing (sorry!) and why I am late with my next short story club story (really sorry!). When I am in deeply immersed in my current novel, everything else is just asteroids. And if that phrase makes no sense, feel free to ask me to explain it.

To exploit one of my favourite clichés, immersion is a two edged sword. It makes writing a novel so much easier – in fact, I think it's critical for my process at least to never fully stop thinking about the world, the characters and the story.

The flip side however is that it makes me awful to live with. I stare into space at inopportune moments, I keep striking up conversations with my husband about the next bit of the book, and if I don't get time to write, I turn into a grumpy, cantankerous troll who mopes around the house sighing theatrically. Honestly, I don't know how my husband puts up with it. I'm either grumpy because I'm not writing, or absent because I am…

Love

Being immersed and having momentum makes fertile soil for love; either love of the characters or love of the world or love of the exciting scene that's just around the corner. I have 30-40K or so of book three left to write, and I am already dreading finishing it. Finishing the first draft of book two made me sad, I'm expecting a mini-depression when the trilogy is over and only editing and tears remain.

It really is like being in love. I think about my characters, what they're doing and going through all of the time. When I'm walking along, when I'm in the shower, when I'm doing the housework, whenever I am not actively engaged in something else, I'm thinking about them.

I'd also like to add that I do think of other things too, don't get me wrong, just like people in love are able to. It's just that the love-object has a strong mental gravitational pull. In my case that's a group of weird kids in post-apocalyptic London. Hey ho.

One example happened last night, when the hubster and I finally got a chance to sit and watch the first episode of The Walking Dead. When the shots of the poor chap waking up and wondering through the post-apocalyptic horror were playing out, I felt my heart rate increase, found myself smiling. Not because I'm thrilled by the thought of all that death – far from it – but because it was like looking at the backdrop of 20 Years Later. It also made me so glad that I set the books twenty years after most people died – the scenes of the piles of bodies piled up just seemed too harsh for my novel. But that's another post I think!

What I mean to say is that the love of the setting made watching something in a similar genre all the more exciting to watch. Just like seeing someone with similar hair or facial features to a lover can elicit a thrill as those same neurons are lit up.

I'm rambling aren't I? Forgive me, it's been a while since I've been here.

So there you have them: four pillars underpinning my emotional experience of writing a first draft; fear, momentum, immersion and love. Blimey. That could almost be an analogy for life, if you squint and tilt your head when you look at it. I need a cup of tea. To the kettle! And don't spare the horses!

P.S. I'm afraid the release of 20 Years Later has been delayed, I'm waiting for a launch date from the publisher. Everyone keeps asking me when it'll be, but sadly I have no idea – as soon as I do I'll let you know too!