Here’s Why You Shouldn’t Write a Novel

When I started writing novels, I made a fatal mistake. I wrote down all the thoughts and threads I had bubbling around in my head. And by using Scrivener, it didn’t matter that they were disorganised, I could sort that later.

Yeah, right. The fatal mistake was: the idea was rubbish. There was no way a novel would come out of what I was working with. I binned it after 20k words. And I’m glad. But then, I started again and made the same mistake. Rubbish idea. Poorly executed.

So, I didn’t bother after that. Not for another 10 years. Then, when I sat down to write a novel, I mostly knew what the story was. I’ll quickly say that I’m not a plotter. Nope, I don’t have a plan. I just know what the story is and go from there. I let the characters tell me the story.

But, but, I KNEW the story. Trust me, the novel won’t ever get finished if you write it with no idea what the nucleus of the tale is. You don’t have to know any more than that. But you do need at least that. It’ll be rubbish, otherwise. And you won’t finish it.

However, that’s not it.

There’s a much bigger issue to address. Instead of thinking you can write a novel, start by saying you can’t.

Pardon?

I know, right? That sounds counterintuitive. It’s not. It’s thinking in reverse. If you reckon you’ve got a story to tell, start by saying: What if the story is a piece of crap, and should never be written?

You might find yourself saying: Yeah, true, that. In which case, nothing is lost. You don’t waste time writing thousands of words, to end up… ahem… binning them. But on the other hand, you might find yourself saying: _If I wanted to avoid this novel being rubbish, I’d avoid…

Aha! Now you are on to something, right? Now you have the basis to argue with yourself about why you definitely shouldn’t write the novel — by presenting better and better reasons why you should.

You might be thinking at this stage: Andy has lost the plot. I never have a plot, remember? So I can’t have lost it…

But no, I’m talking specifically here, about saving you from writing thousands of words before hitting the “this is rubbish” wall. I’m talking about making it clear the reasons why you should write a novel.

I’d better get technical for a moment…

Here’s a great question to ask:

What would make this story a total disaster?

For example, if you are writing a thriller, brainstorm the most predictable, clichéd tropes. And if you were considering using any of them, leg it. Get out of there. Just no, avoid, avoid and one more for good luck… Avoid.

Likewise, you could try thinking about what the climax is. Or better, the protagonist’s transformation… Blimey, I hate those words. They sound far too literary. What I meant was: What horrible crap are you going to put your lead character through to change their lives? Find the real, tough, emotional beat. Then? You might have something.

But, here’s when not to write it: if that particular outcome doesn’t excite you? What’s the rule? LEG IT! Get the hell out of there. You don’t want the pain and suffering from writing endlessly to find yourself in the Swamp of Indifference, The Sea of So What? Or the Forest of Failure. They are all real places, trust me. I’ve been in them all — more than once.

Here’s another little trick. Ask yourself this:

For my proposed ending idea, what must happen before it?

Keep tracing the cause-and-effect link back to your opening scene. If the steps to get there feel boring or illogical, you need to… LEG IT!

Right then, I’m nearly done. But there is one other thing I should mention. I’m not trying to put you off from trying to write that novel. BUT, it’s bullshit to say: “There’s a novel in all of us.” No, there isn’t.

Another thing: there’s far too much happy-clappy nonsense out there about writing novels. It’s bloody hard work. And I mean, properly hard. After my first novel, my eyes were knackered, I had a severe case of RSI and I couldn’t sleep for thinking it was rubbish and needed a rewrite.

And if, after trying your very best to persuade yourself not to write this one, you still can’t let the idea go…

Congratulations.

You’ve probably found a story worth telling.