The first thing you need to
know about writing a novel is that there are no easy answers. The second thing
you need to know is that, if you’re anything like most of us, it’s going to be
quite difficult. There’s no magic formula for novel writing. Every novel
demands its own structure, its own pace, its own way of looking at the world.
Still with me? Good. Because, as it turns out, novel writing isn’t just a head-banging
exercise in utter frustration and despair (although, trust me, sometimes it is
just that). It’s also a deep swim into your own head space, a really fun
adventure, and one of the most thrillingly creative things a person can do.
It’s your world; you get to make it, populate it, cultivate it, and bring all
of the pieces together. If you’re ready to take on the challenge of writing a
novel, here are 11 steps to get your started.
1) Consider the Setting: Setting encompasses not only place, but
also time. Where does your novel happen, and when? Ian McEwan’s chilling
novella, The Comfort of Strangers, derives much of its tension from the setting
of Venice—the convoluted streets and hidden alleys are essential to the feeling
of disorientation that leads to the protagonist’s undoing. When I began writing The Year of Fog,
I knew that this book could happen only one place: San Francisco. And I knew
the story of a child disappearing into the fog must begin on Ocean Beach, where
the summer fog is so dense, you can see only a few feet in front of you. When
you consider the setting of your novel, be as specific as possible. If it
begins in a city, what part of the city? What street? What building? Why does the story happen here?
2) Consider the point of view: Who
is telling the story, from what distance? Do you have a first-person narrator
who is at the center of the action, an omniscient narrator who is able to go
into the thoughts of any character at any time, and a limited third
person narration that sticks closely to one character? Mersault engages the
reader’s empathy in The
Stranger, despite his seeming coldness, because the first-person narration
brings the reader straight into Mersault’s mind. We understand his motivations
from his own point of view, and, as a result, actions that might otherwise seem
reprehensible begin to make sense to us. Learn more about point of view and
other aspects of narrative craft with the Guided Workbooks
for Writers.
4) Consider the
protagonist: There has to be
someone at the center of the action. Generally, this will be someone your
reader ends up rooting for, no matter how flawed the character may be. (And he
or she must be flawed in order to be realistic.) Emma Bovary is deeply flawed,
but in the end, we care what happens to her as she hurtles toward
self-destruction. Flaubert isn’t easy on Emma, but he portrays her in all of
her complexity—her ambition, her passion, her rapacious desire for status and
luxury. Every great novel is character-driven; your protagonist must be a
character worth caring about. Learn how to create
unforgettable characters.
5) Consider the conflict: No
matter what kind of novel you’re writing, no matter the genre, there is no
novel without trouble. Every story begins with conflict. What’s yours? In Gone Girl, a woman goes
missing in the first chapter, and her husband appears to be implicated in her
disappearance. In Here Is Where We
Meet, a middle-aged man meets his dead mother along an aqueduct
in Lisbon, and must come to terms not only with his own country’s past, but
also with the mysterious nature of the uncertain boundaries between life and
death.
6) Consider the stakes: What
is at risk in the story? What does your protagonist stand to lose or gain? What
does he or she want, and why is it important? The stakes must be clear if you
want the reader to care.
7) Forget the outline: Outlines
are good, unless they are bad. The nice thing about an outline is that it gives
you a direction. The bad thing about an outline is that it limits your novel’s
possibilities. For the first fifty pages, at least, work without an outline.
See where the story is beginning to take you. Need help with this? Try The Paperclip
Method.
8) Embrace
fragments: Don’t be afraid to write a
paragraph here, a page there. Not everything has to be a full-fledged chapter
in the early stages of novel writing. If you have a scene in your head that you
know you want to write, go for it. But if you sit down at your computer and
feel flustered and uncertain, allow yourself the freedom to think in small
bits. Tell yourself, “Today I’m going to write 1200 words about where my
character lives,” or “Today I’m going to write 500 words about what’s troubling
the narrator,” or “Today I’m going to write the last paragraph of the novel.”
That last one is kind of weird, right? But the point is, you don’t have to
write in a linear fashion. You can piece your novel together later. For now, get
some stuff on the page.
9) Write what you don’t know: The old adage is, “Write
what you know.” But you also need to be willing to write what you don’t know.
In the spirit of discovery, allow one character to work in a field about which
you know very little, or allow some element of the plot, or a subplot, to delve
into something you find unusual. Then research it. Sure, you could make your
main character’s sister a struggling writer, something you presumably know a
thing or two about, but that’s a little boring, isn’t it? Why not make her a
welder instead? Then go online and research welding. Take a welder out for
beer. Write five paragraphs that can be sprinkled throughout your novel that
embrace the lingo and physicality of welding. Voila–you’ve created something
interesting and textural, something that may just take you in an unusual metaphorical
direction you never would have imagined if you were sticking to what you knew.
When I was writing No One You Know,
I had a character who was a math prodigy. Math was always my worst subject in
school, and even in adult life, my limitations in mathematics have been
something of an albatross. But the book required me to stretch myself, and I
ended up writing in depth about The Gold Bach Conjecture, a mathematical
mystery that has remained unsolved for hundreds of years. I learned a great
deal not only about that one math problem, but also about the world of
mathematics and the personalities that populate it. I also came across one of
the most fascinating books I’ve ever read, A
Mathemetician’s Apology, by G. H. Hardy. If I’d chosen to skim the
math part, I would have had an easier time of it, but a much less interesting
journey.
10) Set a deadline, but be realistic and kind: Not for
the completion of the novel, but for the first fifty pages. Set a second
deadline, far enough in the future, for the completion of the second fifty
pages. It’s great to tell yourself you’re going to write a novel in a month
(NaNoWriMo, anyone?), but it can be very discouraging once you get to the end
of the month and realize you’ve produced only 35 pages. 35 pages is great,
unless you’ve set yourself up for failure by believing you would produce 300 in
that amount of time. 35 good pages are better than 300 bad pages any day. Be
kind to yourself and set yourself up for success by setting realistic
deadlines.
11) Keep it to yourself: One of the biggest mistakes
beginning writers make is showing their early efforts to anyone who will look.
I know, it’s tempting. You’re writing a novel. You want feedback! You want
support! You want someone to tell you it’s awesome. But hold your horses. For
one thing, if you let people see your novel too early, they’re going to have
all sorts of ideas about where it should go and what it should be about, what
you should include and what you should leave out. If you show it to two people,
you’re going to get a double dose of all those well-intentioned ideas. Show it
to three people, and triple the effect. You see what I mean. Worst-case
scenario is that no one likes it and you’re so discouraged you end up ditching
it before you’ve had a chance to get very far. For a little while, at least, you need to protect your novel.
Don’t show it to anyone, and don’t ask for advice. Give yourself some time
to get your own vision onto the page before other visions interject. Many
novels are written by collaboration, but unlike screenplays, most are not
written by committee. It’s your story; hide it in a drawer until it’s ready to
see the light.

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