When I was in Sri Lanka recently, I started writing what would have been my seventeenth novel.
At that stage, I hadn’t even had my structural edits back on number sixteen, which I’d only submitted to my publisher the day before I left. (Happily, my editor loves it!)
Reader, I dived into a new book too quickly. Inspired by the beauty of the Sri Lankan countryside, I started writing before I’d given myself a chance to breathe.
It’s not the lack of a plan – I never plan – I’m what’s often called a “pantser” – writing by the seat of my pants – or more elegantly referred to as a “discovery writer” – which personally I find a bit pretentious and suggests the writer has little say in the writing. Discovery implies a book
somehow reveals itself magically as hands touch the keyboard – like some divine visitation.
I think there’s a lot more blood, sweat and tears go into the writing of a book than that.
But I digress. My plunging into a new book too quickly meant I hadn’t given myself any time to decompress from the previous book – or in this case books, as there are three in the Hearts of Glass series.
I was writing prolifically for me – almost ten thousand words in a few days – but I had a nagging doubt about it. Was it perhaps too similar to others I had written? This was in terms of location – Sri Lanka (Ceylon as was) briefly featured in two other books – A Painter in Penang and Jasmine in Paris; in background – British colonialism and plantations – tea rather than rubber this time; in the inciting incident – a young woman threatened with an
arranged marriage. But I kept pushing these concerns
away. I was enjoying writing it, so it must be OK, mustn’t it?
I sent the first chapter to my critique partner, Margaret, who didn’t spare me. ‘You’re treading a well-worn path’ she said – or more accurately – groaned! ‘We’ve been here before. This isn’t the kind of writing I expect from you.’
Frankly, it was a relief. Those nagging doubts were genuine. It wasn’t just a case of the usual writerly crisis of confidence that plagues us all from time to time.
I decided to cast the manuscript aside and give myself a break. I took the pressure off, stopped writing altogether, read for pleasure and gradually began to undertake some interesting background research. With all pressure removed I have the germ of an idea and although I haven’t started writing again yet, I’m ready to do so and intend to get stuck in very soon when I’m on a writing retreat with friends.
It will still be set in Ceylon. But I’ve a better idea of where I want it to go than my first over-enthusiastic attempt!
Will it work? Who knows? You’ll have to wait and see!
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