Something out of Nothing

By Alison Hill, https://www.mshorror.com

“We all have a novel in us,” so the saying goes. 

I’ve found the process of writing fiction both magical and laborious. Getting the first draft down is an intense process. The story seems to write itself. Once I start tapping out words, there comes a point when it takes off. Thoughts, scenes, and storyline are coming so fast that I write in a frenzied fog. 

Ten hours whizz by with techno music blaring in the background, housework left untouched, my preschooler glued to “PBS Kids.” I don’t even break for lunch when I’m in the zone. My characters start dictating what they’re going to do and say. I’m just the hired help. And the bearded muse sits in the corner nodding his head, staring over his pince-nez, a lit pipe dangling from his mouth. “Keep going, just keep going, you’ll get there,” he says in a gruff, but kind voice. Sometimes he winks.

By now characters can seem like real people and you’re getting well acquainted. You may even spot one of them squeezing melons at the produce section of the grocery store. “It’s how you can tell if they’re ripe,” Georgina tells you, the murder victim in your mystery novel, who just yesterday only existed on your computer. “Have we met before? You seem familiar?” she asks. You grin politely, “No, don’t think so,” turn abruptly and whisper to yourself, “what have I done?”

And the end result is a story that didn’t exist before. Something is created out of nothing, and it feels good. 

I like coming back to my work a few weeks later with a red pen, when it’s time to revise. It’s like dusting an already clean and tidy room. The heavy lifting is done. 

Then someone else reads it and offers their opinion. An outsider.The dream ends abruptly. The spell ruptures. The magic is demolished. They’re pissing on the bonfire you so meticulously built. Enchantment turns into drudgery. You’re back in school, clutching a report card that screams, “she could do better.” It’s not encouraging and not conducive to creativity. Now it’s as if your book baby is being put down or bullied, and mama don’t like it, no sir. 

We have to protect the offspring of our imaginations. The lioness crouches.

Although uncomfortable and hurtful, editing isan inevitable part of the deal, and we fiction writers have to suck it up and take the hit. Calm down kitty! But I still hate it, in a foot-stomping toddler kind of way. 

Why do they have to ruin our fun? I think it’s good just the way it is, so there. That’s why my manuscripts have been safely hiding on two computers and three flash drives for the past six years. It takes a bit of courage and layers of thick skin to release your work out into the wilds, where critics lurk, ready, and oh so willing, to shoot you down. 

I need to stop reading books on how to write, as I’ve gleaned all I can about “show don’t tell,” character development, sexy plot twists, and aha moments. Too much advice becomes overwhelming and a distraction from actually writing. 

I don’t belong to a critique group either; that would seem like cheating on my muse. I don’t like discussing my story, planning out scenes, or writing to a formula. I’ll have a vague idea in my mind and then freewheel my way to the end. The characters are good with directions and always help me out. I’ll take advice later, when it’s all safely down in black and white, but until then, it’s a closed shop for me.

An author friend once told me “write what you like to read,” and since then I’ve been writing in my favorite genre, horror. He also suggested I learn from the authors I admire. “Study the craft of the writers you like,” he advised. “Read their debut novels and try and figure out what got them in the door. How did they draw the reader in and when exactly were you hooked in the story? When did you, in effect, stop noticing you were reading a book?”

What keeps me going is the dream of being a successful writer, and I’m building the foundations of that dream, writing, revising, and writing some more. So when luck finally shows its pretty face, I’ll be ready. Well, that’s the plan anyway.

I started writing my first novel at age 10. It was called “The Eagle and The Serpent.” It was about goblins and dwarfs, and was inspired by “The Hobbit.” I never actually finished it. That was a long time ago, when success was not just possible, but expected. Childhood dreams are boundless and time is an ally. Now I fear the clock is ticking too fast and I’ve got to get a foothold on that publishing train before it leaves the station.

After at least six rewrites, one of my novels (my first born) is now in the capable hands of a copy editor, and it’s okay, I’m fine. Really. I’m even taking her advice and mending some cracks, finally seeing through the fog of insecurity and working on improving what I’ve written. It doesn’t mean it was bad, it means it could be even better. And the good points are also being highlighted, which means I was actually doing some things right all along. 

Maybe I did learn a few tips from those “how-to” books after all. Or maybe I’m getting better just through doing.

“You learn best by reading a lot and writing a lot,” says Stephen King in his excellent book, “On Writing,” “and the most valuable lessons of all are the ones you teach yourself.” 

Even if success seems like a long way away, I think we writers should just keep turning up every day to write.

When the book is done, take a break, and let it rest. Then a few weeks later, dig it out, read it, rewrite it, revise, and polish some more, until it can pass your mother-in-law’s white glove test. 

And when you think you’re ready, let the critics have a go at it. You’ll survive. I promise.

Alison Hill is a former investigative journalist and PBS producer/director who’s covered everything from human trafficking to alien abduction. Born and raised in Wales, Alison speaks fluent Welsh and often talks about U.S. political issues and breaking news on BBC Radio and TV. An aspiring horror novelist and lover of the supernatural and paranormal, Alison is now a freelance writer and producer living with her husband and daughter in Asheville, North Carolina.