9 Tips For Novel Writing

Stephen King wrote that even if you're not writing on your novel, it's alive as long as it's inside your head, as long as you're thinking about it; and I think that's the case with Ella. Although I'm in no mood to write it's always in the back of my mind, and I'm considering how to continue scenes, how to add material, how to make things add up, and so on. Even while doing so conscious thought mostly isn't the answer to how to make a plot that works... at least, it never was for me. Hell, I've gotten the best ideas while dreaming or in my first conscious thought of the day - as if the novel itself feels more comfortable that way, building itself up from scratch in my subconscious. I'm not objecting. I always thought stories did better when they were in charge, even when it didn't turn out at all like I'd expected. On Ella I did write around 600 words the other day, so it's not standing completely still progress-wise, but somehow it feels like the text isn't quite keeping up with the pace the story is evolving with inside my mind. Hopefully, that will kind of work out by its own accord.


I don't by any means intend to come off as arrogant, or professional either, but since I've been thinking a lot about writing lately I thought I'd just randomly share my best writing tips. For your sake or mine? I'm actually not sure, but hell - does it matter?


1. Write in intervals
Set a timer on a certain number of minutes - personally I find that seven or thirteen minutes are good intervals - and do nothing but write in that amount of time, even if sometimes that means staring at a blank document. When the timer rings, stop writing and look at your word count. It's an easy way to make fast progress and it's more fun than long sessions. It's also easy to fit in a few intervals a day. In Nanowrimo context this method is called word wars and can be done by yourself or together with other writers just the same.


2. Don't. Press. Delete.
When you're writing the first draft, the story itself, think of it as a block of marble that you're going to sculpt. There's no need for every detail to be right in the first round. First write the main body of the text and save the editing for later. Make notes directly in the document if you have doubts, but never, ever press that tempting Backspace key, it is known to kill pace and make you doubt yourself. This method encourages writing on the spur of the moment and can boost inspiration and your enthusiasm for the art form. Sure, sometimes you will know you're writing crap, but other times you'll find that on the read-through, there are actually some gems hidden in the text that would otherwise have gone lost. And besides, if the crap stays crap, you can always delete it later.


3. Write for word count
This is basically what Nanowrimo is all about. I was sceptical at first to weigh your writing in a number of words, but it's actually a pretty good way to measure progress. It will feel more eligible to look at your text and say, 'Hey, I wrote 643 words today', than to look at it and say, 'Two hours work and Helena and Jack are still having the same boring conversation that isn't taking the story anywhere'. This method doesn't suit everyone, but then again, none of these methods really do.


4. Eliminate distractions
It won't work to write while you are cooking, talking on the phone, watching TV and checking your Facebook status all at once. Close all browser and chat programs. Only keep your word program and possibly a music player open. Music by the way is a great way to get into writing, and isolate yourself from possible disturbing surroundings, all at once. Choose whatever works for you to listen to, or experiment - sad music for sad scenes, and so on. You get the drift.


5. Ponder!
Even if you don't have time to write that day nothing is keeping you from developing your characters while standing in line for the ATM or sitting on the bus. Keep your story in mind when you can. You don't need to think of new, inventive ways to use verbs or come up with the new epic ending scene for your story; small things, like considering which hair color your character has or how that character would act in the ATM line is enough to keep your imagination alive.


6. Reward yourself
Set up goals, for example in connection to word count - maybe for every ten thousand words you write you get to go buy yourself a video game or a really nice bottle of wine or whatever tickles your fancy. It works better than you might think. For the final goal, set up the biggest reward so that you have something to strive for other than word count and personal development within writing. The average novel is approximately 75-100K worth of words, so you can adapt your goal after that. For some stories, shorter ones perhaps, or stories that don't need any particular length, this isn't really needed. For those stories instead set up a goal for when your first draft can be said to be finished.


7. Don't overexpose
Write on your own until you have grown sure of your story. Giving samples or short stanzas to fellow writers is fine, as is talking about plot problems or characters - but don't let anyone read the text in its entity until you have a rough first draft that has an ending and that feels good to you. Otherwise you'll be easily affected by feedback and might entirely lose focus from the original story.


8. Have fun!
Writing doesn't have to be dead serious, quite the opposite. Don't expect to write a novel worthy of Tolkien or Hemingway on your first try. Have fun writing, and don't be afraid to throw in deus ex machinas and random spoofs. Even if you tried your hardest to write a really bad novel, you'd be surprised at how good it would turn out, and you could probably use big portions of it to turn into a pretty good story. Enjoy your writing, and don't take it all too seriously. That could set you off into a writer's block.


9. Believe in your work
Sometimes I've felt like what I've been working on isn't original enough, or that it is just a copy of all the other millions of stories out there, that perhaps it even has been told before, but don't get caught in that trap. Don't listen to what people may have to say about your ideas or what they might compare it to. Even if the story has been told before, YOU haven't told it before, and that can be enough to make it entirely unique. The important thing is that YOU believe in your story, or writing it will feel meaningless. Don't be intimidated - encourage yourself.


That's all I've got for now and come to think of it, I think I wrote it for my own sake. I feel strangely encouraged to go write now. Funny how that works, sometimes.
POET IN THE JAR

Longest Shortcut To Misery

You haven't changed, have you

Although you traded small town angst and hate

for countryside indifference and ignorance

You're no different, have no other goals

No other wishes or dreams

On the outside you look just the same

You haven't changed, have you

Don't look down on me, don't you see

That I'm the one laughing at you

You have no ambitions or aspirations

To become anything or anyone

To improve your current conditions

A few key matters still are the most important to you

How to be adored by your friends and local establishment

Your so-called friends have back-stabbed you so many times

That you've forgotten that you used to think it hurt

Now it's your everyday situation

You don't know how to feel, anymore

You tell yourself it's what you wanted

For self-preservation

Did you circle any of the ads in the paper

Did you ever get an interview

You didn't, did you

Barely finishing school is still the highpoint

of your life as you remember it

You haven't changed, have you

You're still the same

You still take the same walks

Still walk the same road to the same bus stop

Still live in the same house with the same ignorance

The same fights and same mess and same piles of junk

What can I do but laugh at you, pity you

You haven't even attempted to leave

Every same day of neglect has become a shield around you

Without any love from those around you, you had no other choice

You seek it out elsewhere, wherever you can get it

But you confuse love with admiration

And admiration is temporary

You have a role model, a hero of sorts, to inspire you

Letting you know you could always move three miles away

and hook up with the first loser you see

So you can still stay in range of what you know

The same fights and same mess and same piles of junk

Just in a different house with different faces

You haven't changed, have you

Should I stop laughing now, or stop pitying you

and actually lift my hat off for you,

and congratulate you

You found the longest shortcut to misery

That's always something, isn't it

Congratulations

If you ever rediscover how to hate

How to discard the empty and apathic

Let me know, hell, I'll buy you a coffee, or a beer

You'll deserve one after your time in the desert

I'll still be the one laughing at you

Hopefully I won't choke on my laughter

Coffee Cups And Stars

I dream of a big white house with wooden panels and old bricks on the exterior, a big white house with a big garden and only a grassy slope from the mossy lake. It will have an entire room just for writing, a big room with bookshelves lining the walls and a giant stereo that can play my favorite songs really loud without disturbing anyone and a giant desk with a typewriter and plenty of room for spare pages and coffee cups, and behind the chair there'll be a big window facing towards the lake so that when inspiration ceases to come I can spin the chair around and look out into the sun or rain. There will be a washing machine in the kitchen and a tub in the bathroom that is built inside the floor and the walls where I can take long bubble baths after long walks, and there'll be gravel roads and narrow paths throughout the forest where I can go for long walks with my German Shepherd called Max that I've always wanted to have. There'll be other houses around the lake at a convenient distance and I will know everyone who lives there and we'll go to each other's houses for dinner parties and barbecues or for cups or tea and talk about life and about books and about the great that was, and about the great that is still to come. I dream of a big white house with a big kitchen where the refrigerator is always filled with fresh food and with a cold pantry where I can store cans of jam and lemonade and carbonated water. Down by the lake I'll have my own little bridge out into the water and on the rainy summer days I'll wrap myself in rainwear and watch the drops hit the surface of the water and cause thousands of ripples before my eyes. And there'll be a big living room with many different kinds of sofas and stuffed chairs and a fireplace for when I invite people over and there'll be at least two guest rooms where they can stay the night when they are visiting. I dream of having a four wheel drive jeep that I take into the city to buy groceries or go to the café or stock up on paper for that typewriter and the city isn't more than twenty minutes away. And when night falls the lamp posts in the garden will light up and keep shadows at bay, and we'll sit in the garden and talk about everything until the sun has finally set and then a little longer still until the stars light up the sky as light bulbs against black silk, far, far away from where we are. A big white house that will be everything and nothing, and that nothing that is everything, to me.
POET IN THE JAR

Harvest Safety

I don't want to know how you harvest safety

Spare me your instructions, please

They serve no other purpose to me

than to make death and aging tangible

You remind me that our days are short

With all your talk and bureaucracy

Please, leave me to find my own peace

when it's not dependent on plans for my future

that you have created for my own good

Seriously, do all your words make you any happier

or any less vulnerable to pain

I'll let you take care of the numbers and recommendations

while I savor the moment, while I stay sane

_____________________________________

Yeah, I promised myself to start putting away money for my retirement by the time I hit twenty-five. Maybe... hopefully... if I have any income by then... honestly... well, we'll just have to wait and see.

POET IN THE JAR

Ultimate Selfishness

Was this the dream you wanted
You claim to be different, to be special
but what are your words worth,
your empty promises, whispers of gold
when every aspect of your life was carved from the ordinary

What does it mean to question everyone around you
for having become spectators of their lives
when you too watch yourself from a distance
If your name hadn't been written on it
you would have ridiculed your own life
What does that say about you

You took those vows for your own sake
and said you would never be living in the shadows
you said you'd never hide away your true core
and you'd never conform to fit in the big picture
It was for your integrity and for your soul
not for your protection, really
Protection was exactly what went wrong in the first place
it became a bubble of denial of who you were
You said you couldn't live that way
You said you'd die fighting, taking your last stand
rather than rot away in indifference

Take a look in the mirror now
Ask yourself how a stranger would view you
Would they really see all the complexity under the surface
Would you?

To everyone else, and even to yourself
you aren't different or special or complicated
They only see those basic things, those highlights
describing your life in five short words
Without having read all the poems you wrote
And they dismiss you just as easily as you dismissed them
on first sight, based on those short words,
based on their listings in this world
Isn't that the ultimate selfishness

Couldn't you please stop trying to be above the rest
Trying to fight the conventions residing in your very bones
Couldn't you ever settling for being, for existing
Doesn't sometimes ordinary do the necessary trick
but I know the answer before you even reply
you're a visionary and a poet, just as I
and to us the regular just doesn't comply
Don't I know, because I have been where you are
I am there now, without knowing if it'll ever change
I've managed to find some comfort in the smaller things
A breath, a whisper, the sun on my skin
but every now and then the realization breaks me down
I am no special, no different, from anyone else
Maybe it would be easier to bare if I didn't care
but I set out for extraordinary
I set out for the world

There's still some part of me that believes
if you aim for the stars, you could land in a tree
And from there it's closer for shot two and three
should you want to, you're free to try it with me
Maybe I'll even tell you you're special