The Lessons

I believe that when you undertake any kind of challenge or new activity, you will learn something about yourself.

Writing has taught me that I’m not as good as I think I am, as well as being better than I think I am (yes, both of these things can be true at the same time).

While on the creative writing course at AUB we were expected to write around 2000 words per week – which my brain instantly calculated to just under 300 words per day – some of which we would have to read out in class. Cue early onset performance anxiety and general terror.

But I persevered and would regularly get good feedback from my tutor and peers.

I learned I am a better writer than I think I am.

There were times when those 300 words would take me a couple of hours; it was so daunting! I’d never even considered word counts before. And then you discover an average book is around 80,000 words, suddenly writing a whole novel seems like an impossible task. 300 words is a drop in the ocean. But what is the ocean if not many many many drops?

I, like many others, was intimidated by the endgame as though the whole process had to happen overnight. Note to self (and to you); no book is written overnight.

So, I started where I was. I committed myself to writing 300 words a day until it became a habit. Until those couple of hours whittled down to 20 minutes. And that was how I wrote my first draft (approx. 60,000 words) in 6 months.

I learned I could write a novel.

In class, on social media, in conversation with those who have actually done it, you here all the cliched advice and tips. ‘Just write,’ ‘don’t edit as you go,’ ‘it doesn’t have to be perfect.’ Cliched? Yes. True? Also, yes.

As a self-confessed perfectionist it was difficult for me to let go of the idea that every word I put to page had to be gold. Every metaphor profound, every sentence grammatically correct. I would often sit for hours trying to think exactly how the next sentence needed to go or the ideal synonym for the emotion I was trying to convey.

‘Just write’ was my lesson. Highlighting what I wanted to return to became a big part of my process.

I learned how to move on.

By the time my first draft was finished I felt exhausted and conflicted. I was relieved the hardest part was over but also unsure if I had done a decent job. Now was the time for some distance. After 6 months of working on another project, I came back to it. This was where I discovered the ugly side of my novel. With fresh eyes all my imperfections came to light. All the plot holes, character inconsistencies and improbable realities. I was a bad writer! No, I was just a writer. No one would read this version other than me. Now was the time to start moulding my clay.

I learned how to fail.

I shoved my ego aside and allowed my self to be a bit crap. I was learning, after all. Over the next year I edited the hell out of my novel (proudly puffing it out to around 80,000 words) and, guess what? It still wasn’t perfect.

Feeling like I couldn’t view it objectively anymore, I passed it over to a couple of beta readers. Taking on their critiques and observations I sent it through another few rounds of editing until it was barely recognisable from the first skeleton draft. I couldn’t possibly say how many drafts there have actually been by this point.

When I had done all I felt I was capable of I sent it to my mentor for a structural and copy edit. Her insights were honest and profound, if not a little hard to hear at times.

Spoiler alert: I’m not a perfect writer. But I persevered, taking her advice and ‘killing my many darlings’ as the saying goes, on occasion killing entire chapters (!).

After 2 years of toil and trouble I have summoned up all my courage as I head for the battlefield that is the traditional publishing route. I have written my one page synopsis along with my hook and blurb (who knew that was actually the most difficult part?) and have started sending it to the gatekeepers of my potential success.

I learned how to survive.

My advice, dear writers, is this:

This is marathon, not a sprint. Take it one step at a time.

Let yourself be a bit crap. Don’t worry, no one else needs to know.

Leave your ego at the door. Kill your darlings (you’ll survive without them, I promise).

Just write.

And finally, to paraphrase a traditional saying which I believe can be applied here:

Your thoughts become your words.

Your words become your actions.

Your actions become your habits.

Your habits become your character.

Your character becomes your destiny.

Happy Writing!