As the year draws to a close, I’ve started to accept that I will not publish a new novel in 2024. Although my novels at first came out four years apart, then two, since 2018 I have produced at least one book each year. Song of the Siren was even complete by the time The Shattered Drum came out, so in that case the separation wasn’t much more than six months.
But around this time in 2023, my writing slowed, for various reasons. In part, the new story took a while to get into, its protagonists being the type that resist easy characterization. I’ll explore that issue more next week.
The bigger hurdle, though, lay elsewhere. As I navigated retirement, a lot of work-related responsibilities drew me away from writing. I also experienced several family transitions. And, to be blunt, although I do have loyal readers, limited sales have undermined any illusions that I might someday write a break-out novel. I still write for pleasure, and I expect to continue publishing what I write, but the self-imposition of deadlines undermines the very thing that draws me to writing in the first place: the joy of crafting a story.
That said, the main topic of this post is procrastination, its pluses and minuses while writing. We’ve all heard of the dreaded writers’ block, which constitutes an extreme form of procrastination. Obviously, not writing at all—although not necessarily a bad thing in itself, since many people never write and live happily even so—will not push a novel forward. That’s definitely a minus, and if you encounter it, I suggest stepping back long enough to figure out where you’re forcing the story into a shape that doesn’t fit. Are you asking one or more main characters to behave in ways that don’t suit their personalities? Are you demanding they follow a timeline that is too fast or too slow? Have you figured out who they are, what they want most, and why? Almost always, when I have trouble crafting a book, it’s for one of those reasons. Find the sticking point and correct it, and the story will flow once more.
Procrastination, however, can have positive results as well as negative ones. Once I finish a rough draft—especially the first draft, since my style of writing means that I rarely know what my story actually is before I reach the end—I find it helpful to set it aside for a month, or even six months, before picking up the threads once more. Doing so lets me approach the book as a reader will, without preconceptions. Did I assume a plot point or character description was clear when in fact it needs explanation? Did I omit certain crucial intermediate steps? Do the characters react consistently? Does the timeline work? I could go on, but you get the idea.
So yes, Song of the Steadfast will not be out until next year. I’ve finished two drafts and received comments, several of which require serious thought on how to fix the problems these readers identified. I’ve spent the last three months researching the next book in the series and thinking about those characters, but by the end of December, if not sooner, I expect to print out all the comments, consider what needs to be done, and create a final version.
Exactly when that will happen remains TBD. Maybe I’ll even need to procrastinate one more time before I’m sure I’ve fixed everything that needs fixing. But being able to make that choice is itself a plus, and I feel lucky to have the opportunity. After all, in the end I want to produce the best novel possible, even if it takes me a while.
Image: Cartoon of fox editing manuscripts purchased from Clipart.
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