My New Year (writing) resolutions

The end of the year is like the end of a book. It may be happy, it may be sad. It may be bittersweet, it may leave you thinking, what happens next? The story that is finished may have been what you'd hoped, or it may have disappointed you. It may leave you hopeful, as it may leave wishing you could have changed so many things.

The last day of the year, like the ending of a book, is the opportunity to pause and think. About what will happen next, or what you want to happen next. It is the opportunity to daydream and imagine. For all is possible in the future. What book will you next read? What turn will your life take? What will your next adventure be?

It is the moment to take resolutions. Why, actually, since barely are ever kept? Because it gives the illusion that we can decide the shape of all the possible futures lying ahead.

I have a few resolutions for 2019, writing ones. Maybe I will keep them, and maybe not. But still I make them. It is like when I think of the outline of my stories: how different the finished novel is to the initial idea. It was changed and transformed. It veered away from the path I thought it would follow. Is it because it could not be otherwise? Is it better that way? I cannot tell. My stories changed as I do, day after day, as we all do. Our hopes, our dreams, the shape of all the possible futures.

But still I make resolution, just as a create an outline. To be followed or not followed. For outlines, like New Year resolutions are a starting point. So here they are:

*I want to finish the first draft of the sequel of As Winter Came and Went before the summer, and start the second draft then (earlier if possible).

*I want to have written at least half of the first draft of Cinnamon.

*I have two, non-fiction projects, one related to As Winter Came and Went, another to the cartoons I've been publishing on this blog. I want to complete and publish at least one of them in 2019.

*I want to engage more with the Internet writing community, for I feel it has given me more than I have given it. I did not have the time to comment, to encourage, to support as much as I should the different writers I virtually met there, but so many took the time to do this for me that now I want to return the favour.

*I'd like to practice writing short stories and maybe publish a couple on this blog. I intended to do so around Christmas, but I lacked time and ideas. Or rather I did not make time for it, and did not really look for ideas. It would be the opportunity to try out more genres and develop my writing skills.

The end of the year is like the end of a book. There is no way of knowing what will happen next. But you can write parts of the story, of the story that comes next, the one you want to read, the one you want to live.

"Writing in a café"

I love writing in a café! I mean, I love going to a café with the intention to get some writing done. it doesn't mean that I'm especially productive once I'm there...

"When your book is about to be published and you spot a typo..."

Yes, this happened... I spotted not one but two typos, just before publication. And I was tempted, very tempted to leave them there... I didn't of course! In the end, my conscience prevailed and I went through the whole process again (actually, I found an easier way of correcting them...).

So if you read the book and spot a typo, it's not one I was aware of (and left there out of sheer lazyness)!

"How I feel when I enter my book into a competition..."

Now that my novel is published, a whole new journey has begun. Now it has to make its way into the world, and to help it, I intend to enter it into compétitions. I'll let you know later on how all that is going! 

What happens now?

And that's it. As Winter Came and Went is published. Which means I can now relax...or not! It's good to be a published author. It's even better to be a published author who actually sells some books.

 

So I know need to develop (or rather acquire) some marketing skills and try to spread the word about my book and hopefully sell a few copies (to people who are not family or friends). What will I do then? I'll go on being present on social media (Facebook and Instagram, because I still haven't figured out how to use Twitter...). I'll also go on publishing fascinating articles and this wonderful blog. And I'll enter my novel in some competitions.

 

There's one I have in mind and I'll try to find others. I'll post more about that later on (or if I don't, you'll understand that it's been a failure and that I'm to ashamed to speak of it...). I'm not so much hoping for a win as to be shortlisted: that would already be great.

 

I will also go on working on the sequel to As Winter Came and Went. I'm two thirds into the first draft and hopefully, same time next year I'll already be editing it, which could mean that the publication could take place in 2020. I'm also still working on Cinnamon. Maybe it will be finished (and published) before the sequel, for it is more of a novella than a novel.

 

I'm also working on a new project related to As Winter Came and Went. But I'll make a proper announcement soon.

 

So publishing my novel was just the beginning... And a whole new adventure has started!

"Launching my book into the world"

I already posted this cartoon a few months ago, but it felt appropriate to share it again on the week of the publication of my debut novel... 

The people who made it happen...

And As Winter Came and Went will be published tomorrow!!!

Though I decided to self-publish, it does not mean that I did everything alone. Far from it: I would never have been able to go this far without the help of many wonderful people. And I would like to thank them all: you are the ones who made it happen.

First of all, I want to thank my family, and especially my parents, who supported and encouraged me every step of the way, who shared my hopes and did their best to allay my doubts. Special thanks to my father who proof-read the novel (so if there are any typos left, it's not my fault)!

Then I would like to thank all the friends who agreed to read the first versions of the manuscript, and who not only gave invaluable feedback and advice but were patient enough to point out the (too many) mistakes and inconsistencies.

My thanks also go to the friends who did not read the novel, but followed my journey to publication and encouraged me all the way.

My decision to self-publish led me to connect through social media with a number of fellow-writers, some of whom also gave me great advice. My thanks go to them too: I did not expect the online writing community to be welcoming and helpful, but it is, and I'm grateful for that.

So thank you again to all of you. This book is yours as well: it would not have existed without you!

"Before publication..."

In spite of bursts of optimism when I feel like the first image, I have a suspicion that reality will take the shape of the second... And yes, you can take it as a hint! You would not want me to make that sad face... Then you know what to do... 

One week to publication

In 8 days, As Winter Came and Went will be published!

 

At this stage, there is nothing left for me to do anymore, except wait. I couple of weeks ago, I ordered a proof-copy of the paperback. Once I'd received it, I was able to check all the formatting, and to do some additional proof-reading, which allowed me to find a few real (and embarrassing mistakes) and some commas that I was not wholly satisfied with. Once that was done, I made the corrections on the digital files (paperback and ebook) and uploaded them once again on Kindle Direct Publishing.

 

So now, they are ready for publication. The ebook, which is already available for preorder, will be automatically published on the 4th of December. I will have to publish the paperback manually, however (in the sense that I'll have to go on the website and press the button "submit for publication"). Because it has to be approved and such, and because the process can take up to three days, the paperback might not be available on the 4th, but on the 5th, or even the 6th (if you were desperate to order it on the 4th, you might have to wait a bit longer...).

 

At the last moment, I decided to add an extra illustration at the end of the novel. The book now has a total of 15, one for the prologue, one for each chapter, one for the title page and one for the last page.

 

I have to say, it feels a bit strange to just wait, like that, after all the work that went into the book, the editing and revising and formatting and such. And I'm still worried that there might be some typos left. I mean, it's certain that there'll be typos left, since you can find some even in traditionnally published books that went through professional editing and proofreading. So a self-published book...

 

Anyway, the wait is almost over and soon I will be able to call myself a published author!

"Two months before publication..."

I know it's not two days before publication yet, but this is so typical of me whenever I have a deadline... Right now I'm thinking that I've done everything that I should, that the book is ready to be published, and so on, but I'm sure I'll soon realise that there's actually things I forgot to do, or overlooked, or didn't know I was meant to do...

Prologue or not prologue?

 

I have an issue with the first chapter of my novel As Winter Came and Went. Or rather readers, seem to have an issue with the first chapter of my novel. Too difficult, too strange, odd style, etc. Which is how it was meant to be (my excuse being that I write literary fiction - aka fiction in which the English language is tortured and mutilated). But though I intended to write something literary, I also wanted to write something that would actually be read. Not something that the reader would want to close and throw away after a few pages, making me feel very misunderstood and mistreated.

The trouble is that this first chapter is especially important to the novel (you can find several extracts of it on this blog). It announces the style. It presents the main character. It raises several issues that will haunt the said character throughout the rest of the novel. And, I'll admit it, I'm fond (proud) of this chapter. So there was no question of deleting it from the book. Was there, however, a way of making it more attractive to the reader, without sacrifising the style or the intent? 

Since the style was what bothered readers, I realised that there was not much I could do... So I decided to ask for advice, in the real and the virtual world. The virtual world? Yes, on social media. 

For the 21st century writer is a connected writer. I discovered that when I was beginning to look into ways of marketing my book. Being present on social media was one of the pieces of advice Google gave me. So I created on Instagram and Facebook accounts dedicated to my writing. And I “met”, on both media, lovely writing communities where both would-be writers and established authors are able to discuss and share their difficulties, their progress, their journey to publication, whether they are traditionally or self-published.

So I asked all those people for advice by posting my question on a Facebook group dedicated to writing. Some said I should be ruthless and delete my chapter (*gasp!*), some said I should ignore my readers, and some said I should add a prologue that would, hopefully, make readers want to go on reading, because they would be desperate to know what happened.

The third option seemed like a good compromise. The problem was that…I actually really, really dislike prologues. Maybe because I always fall for it: I open a book, I read the prologue, the suspense is too much and I cannot rest until I know what happened, what lead to the situation described in the prologue and so on. I find prologues annoying. I think that prologues are nothing more than a trick to lure the reader into the book. But…they tend to work, don’t they? 

So should I add a prologue? The structure of my novel had been the subject of much thought. A prologue would unbalance it. My novel is not a thriller, or crime story, or commercial fiction. It’s literary. It’s already very long. Why make it longer? 

I also had arguments in favour of a prologue. One was that I want my book to be read, and if a prologue could give it one chance to convince one more reader to stick with it….well, I should add a prologue. The other was that when I first started to think about the story that would become As Winter Came and Went (too many years ago…), it didn’t start where it does now. Now, the first chapter shows the main character on a ship bound for England where he goes back after two years spent in Africa. But the initial story (before the first draft was written) was meant to start in Africa, a few weeks before this first chapter.

I pondered on this as I was trying to decide whether or not to include that prologue. And this last argument swayed me in favour of it. I would add a short scene, in Africa, where the story was at first meant to start. Because it would, hopefully, make what follows more understandable. And make the readers ask themselves questions the answers to which they would seek in the rest of the novel. And, because the style is a bit easier than in the chapter that follows, with a bit of luck, it will draw the readers in. At least, that’s what I hope!

"The writing part of the would-be novelist's brain"

As Winter Came and Went - Extract 8

And *drum roll* it is the last extract before the publication of As Winter Came And Went! I hope you've enjoyed those little tasters of my novel, and that maybe it made you want to read the whole of it.

This one is situated at the very end of chapter 1, which, according to beta readers is the strangest, hardest to read chapter of the book. Which is making me a bit worried: what if people decide not to go past it? What makes it all very difficult, is that I believe this chapter is, for many reasons, the most important in the whole novel.

Anyway, this odd chapter 1 does have an end, and apparently it gets easier after that (or maybe readers just get used to my odd style of writing?)... And here it is...

End of chapter 1

Land! A rugged misty coastline…if these grey clouds would lift we would see Land’s End… far off…but nearing…nearing… Black-headed gulls fly between the masts and the ropes, screeching that the harbour is ahead.
“When I left, my wife was with child and I had no news since,” the captain is telling the General.
“There might be a fine, hearty boy waiting for you.”
“I would like a girl, to give my son a little sister. He may be there too, on leave.”
Dennys peers at the horizon, at that land he left two years ago. Will anyone have come for him, will they even be aware that he hasn’t died? And how will he face them? And Victoria, who must’ve thought all that time Oliver was alive… Who will they expect to come off the boat? All of ‘em, the sailors, the captain, the crew, the General even, they have wives, children, sweethearts waiting for them on the shore. Homes, a family that cares for them and friends who’ll drink to their health. Ma could have come. She always said she loved him, in spite of everything. She always said she saw him as her flesh and blood. But she must be in Ireland still, having just heard about him being alive.          I’ll have to pick up my life again… To start from the beginning… How could I? Nothing can ever be the same. I’m branded. By their words, by what I lived, by what I did. They drove me to the brink of insanity. They flung in my face all the foulness of human nature. Their greed, their wickedness… Thirst for power, thirst for gold. The worse is that I spiralled down…to fall…as low, almost as low as ‘em… Loneliness, fear, disgust, hatred…
Did I lose my humanity? I wouldn’t be regretting if I had, would I? I’d be thinking I’d been right all the time. I’d have followed them. I didn’t, ‘cause I rebelled. One day, one day stained for ever by the blood that was spilt, I rebelled. I fought for my humanity. I fought against ‘em, like I fought against the desert. I chose the hardest path.
The loneliness was the worse. To be alone with no one to talk to. That’s what almost drove me mad. I ended up talking alone. To hear a human voice. I talked to the stars. I talked to them ‘cause they looked alive and were a link to home. Not the same, but still better than nothing. Better than talking to the rocks. I talked to the camel but it wouldn’t listen. And how could I tell anyone what I had to live through? Would they understand? They’ll say, why did you answer what you did in the first place, for what reason, explain, you brought it on yourself. Yes I brought it on myself. If I’d known... Blood calls for blood. I wish I’d never gone. I wish I could remember more clearly what happened and what I did… Or I should forget everything. As the ragged cliffs advance to engulf the ship. The mist’ll clear, but not for me.

"When someone makes a nasty remark on my novel..."

Let this be a warning to reviewers! No, I'm just joking. I wouldn't do such a thing! And, anyway, I don't own a book entitled "Spells and Witchcraft"...

One month to publication

One month until the publication of As Winter Came and Went!

 

I find it hard to believe, at times, that what started as me, writing as a hobby, a story that, at first, I did not imagine anyone but me reading led to this. Me. Publishing. A. Book.

 

It feels like the beginning of a new adventure and I'm both excited and not a little nervous. I've been a bit behind schedule these last few weeks, but the manuscript is now uploaded on Amazon, I've ordered a proof copy. And... the Kindle edition is available for preorder!!!!!!!

 

You can find it here: https://www.amazon.com/Winter-Came-Went-May-Bermont-ebook/dp/B07K618J3M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1541408214&sr=8-1&keywords=as+winter+came+and+went (or, if you do not live in the US, you can type "As Winter Came and Went" on www.amazon.uk or www.amazone.fr or wherever your local marketplace is, and it should be the first book to appear).

 

The publishing process is far from being finished, though. I will still have to check the proof copy for formatting issues and lingering typos (will it never end?). And I now have to gather reviews (hint, hint...) and market my book, like my life depends on it. Because it's all very well to publish a book. The point is getting people to read that book. And because I'm self-published, I have to do all the marketing myself...

 

I also have to finish setting up my website (I'm still behind schedule for this...). And I've still got to put an author bio on Amazon. And there's still this and that... Anyway, with As Winter... available for preorder now, it feels like the publication has already begun. And there is no going back. Which is what's both exciting and stressful!  

"The scene I had in mind..."

This is, alas, a true story... That particular scene was meant to be intense and romantic... And it was ruined by a single typo...

What surprises me is that only one beta reader actually noticed it (thank you so much for having pointed it out, by the way!). I hope that the others did not see it because they were entranced by the plot and the emotions and such, not because they were so fed up that they just skipped this scene!

Still, I'm still feeling quite ashamed of myself, especially since I sent out ARC copies to reviewers containing this typo (*gasp*)! I noticed it yesterday, so it was just in time for Halloween (and I was duly horrified)...

"Proofreading..."

 

This also applies to formatting...

Video: Creating the cover of "As Winter Came And Went"

A small video showing the how I created the artwork used as the cover for As Winter Came and Went!

"Creating a bookcover"

Another cartoon in the series about the making of book-covers... Again, inspired by real events!

"As Winter Came and Went" - Blurb

 

 

 

September 1820

Lies, nightmares and malaria… They haunt Dennys O’Connor as he crosses the seas, leaving behind him Africa and the desert where he was lost for months.

Once in England, the young man struggles to come to terms with what happened in the Sahara and tries to find his place in the world he left two years ago. A world where he never really fitted in.

Unable to settle down or to make sense of the chaos his life has become, he wanders, from the grey streets of London to windswept moorland, from wayside inns to manor houses, as he meets old friends and new, becomes involved in the training of a capricious racehorse and even begins to fall in love.

But the journey he began when he set off to Africa is far from being ended yet…

"Designing your own bookcover"

And because designing your own bookcover when you're a would-be novelist is hard, here's another cartoon on this subject. Sadly inspired by real events...

Creating the cover of "As Winter Came and Went"

I had begun to think about the cover of As Winter Came and Went even before deciding to self-publish. Which author hasn’t? Daydreamed about a wonderful cover, about the way the book would look in a shop and so on. And I had even wondered, what would I put on the cover if I was able to do it myself? But at this point, I hadn’t even realised it would one day come to that: me creating the cover for my novel. 

What cover did I have in mind then? Actually, there were many covers. One was lush, colourful, rather abstract with floral motifs (think William Morris – and yes, I am aware it’s not the right time period for my story, but everything’s possible in daydreams, right?) and lots of gold-leaf. And (of course) the book would have been a hardback and that design would have featured on the dust-jacket. Another would have featured a horserace (think Stubbs – yes, yes, still not the right time period). Another, quite an elaborate design with a mixture of sketches and floral motifs (why floral motifs? Because they look pretty and quite timeless, that’s why). So, my imagination knew no limits and I dreamt on.

It was another matter when I was confronted by reality: I had decided to self-publish and I had no money to spend on a professional cover design, so I would have to make it myself. 

I downloaded Gimp, a free photo-editing software, because a writing magazine I was reading recommended it and, hey, it’s free! And I opened it. And I had no clue how to use it. And I google “how to make a bookcover with Gimp” and found several helpful videos on YouTube and useful articles on a number of blogs. And I started making “pretend” covers. I never actually thought, here I am, making the cover that’ll have to sell my book. I thought, here I am, learning to use that software and pretending I’m making a bookcover. 

I don’t really know why I was thinking that, but I’m glad I did: it made the whole process quite fun and stress-free. Except that the covers I came up with were very bad: basically, photos, with writing on it. You see, I may be a daydreamer, but I’m not naïve. I knew I had to forget the covers I dreamed about: I did not (and still do not) have enough skill to create them. And I did not even try. And I also thought that many novels, especially literary ones, have very simple covers. And that some novels have photos (landscapes, seascapes, slightly misty as to have an abstract look) on their covers. I’m an amateur photographer. I’ve got lots of photos. So it seemed like an easy solution to have a simple cover, that would not scream at the reader: “handmade by an indie-author who doesn’t know how to use Gimp properly.”

Except those covers (yes, there were more than one), seemed to say instead: “handmade by an indie-author who doesn’t know how to use Gimp properly so put a random photo of a seascape and wrote the title in a fancy font.” I was not satisfied. Those covers were not attractive. And yes, they were random: they could have been put in front of any book. They were not original. They told nothing about the content of the book.

So I thought I had to find another solution. And I thought, maybe I could take several pictures and make a montage, as to combine different elements that would give a clue as to the contents of the novel. As if I had the skills to do such a thing! Anyway, I started looking online for pictures of horse-racing painting dating from 1820 that would be copyright-free and available for commercial use (on a side-note, if you’re making your cover yourself, and not using your own photos, please be very careful about copyrights and check the rules in your country and in the countries where you want to sell your book!). Because, I did have this idea at the back of my mind that I wanted to include something about horseracing. Because it is quite a central element to the plot of As Winter Came and Went, and because I think that horse-paintings of the 18th and early 19th century are very quaint.

And I found a painting from 1828 by Horace Vernet, “A saddled racehorse tied to a fence” which you can see it here:

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Horace_Vernet_-_A_Saddled_Race_Horse_Tied_to_a_Fence_-_WGA24752.jpg And I thought, great, it’s approximately the right time period, that horse looks nice, there are no people around it. But I began to wonder, how am I going to include it in the cover? As I’ve said before, I do not have the skills to do so. Let’s be honest, I cannot create a nice cover design on a computer.

But there’s one thing I can do better: paint. And I had an illumination. I thought, I know, I’m going to recreate a painting featuring a racehorse. And I wondered why I had not had this idea before. For not only would it allow me to have an original cover, but it would be linked to the novel for two reasons. The first, obvious one, would be the racehorse. The second, not so obvious one is that: one, very important character (no, you do not “know” her yet, for I have not posted any extracts concerning her) is an aspiring painter. And she paints horses. And she paints Summerhaye, the horse featuring on the cover (yes, that’s the talking horse in last week’s extract). So the painting on the cover could be a representation of one of the fictional paintings in the book.

I loved that idea. And I started to paint. The format of the actual painting is A3, taken vertically. I was inspired by the posture and attitude of Horace Vernet’s horse, but I changed the colour from chestnut to black with white legs and a white blaze, to fit the description of Summer. I replaced the buildings by a misty sort of landscape and cloudy sky. And, another change, I did not make my horse have a docked tail (a tail where the last vertebras have been cut), because, though it would have been representative of the time, I think it’s barbarous and I assumed that the first of Summerhaye’s many owners would not have done it (for cultural reasons, but I will say no more), and that later on, the horse would have become too difficult to let someone touch, let alone cut his tail, without trying to retaliate.   

Anyway, I completed the painting, digitalised it by taking and editing a high resolution photo of it, and then used it to create the cover. Not without some difficulty: I had to put it in the right format, crop it to the right size, find an appropriate font. But the most difficult was finding the right colour for the title. How I struggled! It was either too green, too blue, too light, too dark… But in the end I made my choice. And now that I’ve revealed it, well, I’m not going to be able to change it anymore (at least, that’s what I tell myself)!

"The 6 stages of D.I.Y. bookcover design"

Because I've just revealed my bookcover, I thought it would be fitting to make a cartoon on this subject. I have gone through all those stages... More than once actually... Anyway, now that I've published my cover, I won't be able to change it, even if I do go again, from time to time, through (shortlived) phases of despair and doubt!

"As Winter Came and Went" cover reveal

And here it is! The cover of As Winter Came and Went, featuring the racehorse Dennys met in yesterday's extract...
I do hope you like it and that, maybe, it makes you want to pick up the book and read it!
Feel free to let me know what you think of it! I will soon write a post detailing the story behind it.

As Winter Came and Went - Extract 7

I made references in several posts to a certain character who took much more importance in the novel than I had expected he would. He also seemed to steal the heart of some of my beta readers. Anyhow, he became so important that the cover which will be revealed tomorrow, makes a reference to him. Well, now, features him.

So I thought it would be a good idea for this month's extract to be the scene where the main character, Dennys, meets this other character...

Extract from chapter 3

In the morning he decides to go for a walk by the river. Heavy, lazy clouds are gathering but there isn’t any sign of rain yet. The streets are busy: people running to and fro, hailing their acquaintances, greeting their friends… He knows no one here. Andrew has gone back to his parent’s estate; he came two days ago to say goodbye, promising he’d write. Dennys is both relieved and regretful.
The river is filthy. Choked by the waste from the mills. You have to go upstream and past the town to find the semblance of green and pleasant countryside. Dennys follows the path that goes along the bank, walking briskly. He trips over the stones, gets caught in the bramble; at least it occupies his mind, the exertion leaving him breathless and physically tired, but pleasantly so.  
Into the woods and out, past a spinney. A field and a bridge; rust coloured leaves and damp sticky clods clog the narrow space under it. Rustling branches, the gurgling river. Screeching birds. A beast creeping in the bushes. Voices and a clatter of hooves. 
A saddled and bridled horse trots over the bridge, head high, tail swishing; he has no rider. He falls into a canter, quickens his pace, races with the river and stops as he becomes aware of Dennys’s presence. Man and horse stare at each other, gauge each other. It’s like the old legends: the devilish horse inviting the passers-by to jump on and galloping away, leading them to a premature end in a swamp or at the bottom of a cliff. 
He smiles in spite of himself and walks up to the wary horse who snorts but does not move. He raises his hand to stroke the animal’s forehead. The horse shies away, eyes rolling and Dennys guesses that for him, the gesture is synonymous with a blow. He doesn’t give up and calls the horse, whistling softly, hand outstretched. The horse hesitates, before deciding he can trust this human being. He advances and daintily nuzzles the hand with his velvety nose.
Apple? The horse’s eye is bright and expectant.
“Sorry, I’ve got nothing for you.” 
The horse shows his annoyance by flattening his ears against his neck and baring his teeth.
“Don’t even think of it,” Dennys says warningly, and the horse goes back to being a charming, friendly creature.
It’s a pity… The horse sighs.
“Where do you come from?”
You’ll know soon enough. Hear. My owner’s voice.
“And your rider?”
Gone. He was there and then nothing.
“Did you throw him off?”
He fell…
“They’re searching for you, come on.”
I don’t want to go back.
“Why?”
I don’t like them. They make me run in circles and hit me with sticks. They shout. They’ll be angry now. I don’t want to go back.
“They’ll be angrier if they don’t find you soon.”
Don’t you want to go away with me?
“I’m not a horse thief. And you’re a racehorse, aren’t you? What would I do with a racehorse?”
I can run faster than the wind. They won’t catch us.
“Yes they would, come on now.”
The horse looks contrite and refuses to move: his four feet are firmly anchored in the ground.

"Writing outdoors 5"

As you can see, writing outdoors does inspire me a lot! Writing inside, sitting in front of a desk, is so boring by comparison!

Announcement!

The cover of As Winter Came And Went (yes, it's done!) will be revealed on Tuesday the 2nd of October! Yes, that's next week!

As a reminder, for people who have not followed this blog for long (or who have stumbled upon it by chance), As Winter Came And Went, a historical/literary fiction novel set in England in 1820, will be published on Tuesday the 4th of December 2018.

It will be able for preorder as an ebook from the 6th of November (or thereabouts). However, once it is published, it will be available as both ebook and paperback.

I will make the blurb known in the coming days/weeks (I'm still working on it).

I have to say that the idea of showing my bookcover to the world (well, to the tiny proportion of the world population who is aware of my existence and that I've written a novel!) is making it all suddenly very real. And I'm a bit nervous about the way it will be recieved. Because though, as the saying goes, you must not judge a book by its cover, a lot of people, me included, do.

And another announcement: I am looking for ARC (Advance Reader Copy) readers!

An ARC is a pre-published version of a book. It may not be totally corrected and not be quite the finished version of the book. Not quite, but almost. And it is sent for free to a selection of readers and reviewers.

So what is this about?

In a couple of weeks, I'll have a digital ARC proofread and formatted and ready to be sent, for free, in exchange for a honest review to be posted on Goodreads, Amazon, or that I can post on my website. Ideally, I would love it if those reviews were made available before the release date (that is the whole point of ARCs). But I'll totally understand it if they're not ready on time! Because I am aware that reading my (...long...) novel takes time...

If you would be interested in getting an ARC, feel free to send me an email at: may.bermont@gmail.com!

"Writing outdoors 4"

Unlike last week's cartoon, which depicted an imaginary scene, the one depicted here has, alas, really happened to me... I love writing outdoors, but sometimes leave my manuscript unattended for a few minutes to do other things. And sometimes, when I come back, I find ants (I loathe ants!) wriggling between the pages. Or flies. Or even a spider (all right, I did exagerate a bit about the size...). So what do I do? Try to see the funny side!

What's up?

Too many things! As Winter Came and Went's release date is drawing nearer, and nearer and I'm still finding it hard to believe that yes, I'm actually going to publish a book! And it's really stressful, for there are so many things still to be done!

 

There is one particular scene I want to edit. I'm not sure yet how, or how much, but I know it could be better, and since it's quite a central scene... I'm not going to tell you what it's about, but it's meant to be a sort of climax, and I'm afraid I haven't succeeded yet in attaining the right tone and rhythm and so on with it. So I will have to look at it, again, and see what I can do, if there is anything that I can do.

 

Then I will have to proofread the novel. Thanks to a number of very helpful beta readers (and if any of them are reading this: I cannot thank you enough for your help!), many typos and inconsistencies have already been tracked down and corrected. However, there must be several mistakes lingering still in the manuscript. So I'm probably going to read through it all again, backwards maybe, and try to polish it as much as I can.

 

When all this is done, I'll have to format it. There will be actually two manuscripts, formatted in different ways. One for the paperback and one for the ebook (both of which will be published through Kindle Direct Publishing). The formatting will have to be done at the beginning of November and the two manuscripts uploaded on KDP to make the ebook available for preorder. What will make the formatting difficult is the fact that I've included illustrations. There will be twelve of them, one for each chapter. I've done nine at the moment, and will have to complete the last three as soon as possible. When that is done, I'll be able to create an ARC (Advance Reader Copy) uncorrected version of the novel, which will be sent to reviewers, if I manage to find reviewers willing to read it...

 

At the same time, my author website will go live. I've started to build it but I've got to polish it, and buy a domain name, and so on... I admit that it's not the most important part of the process, but author websites are a must-have today, especially when you're an indie-writer.

 

Another thing I need to get done is my book cover. It is sort of done already, but there are still a few things to tweak... And, on the 2nd of October, I will have a cover reveal! And probably, I will reveal the blurb as well, which means I have to write it, and I'm finding it even harder than the novel itself...

 

And I'm still working on the first draft of the sequel to As Winter Came and Went. I'm half way through, which is good: there's going to be 13 chapters (it might be a bit longer than the first one, except if I cut a lot of scenes, which I might, but there's also going to be a lot more action in the second half of the book) and I'm more than half way through chapter 7. I've also started another manuscript, whose temporary title is Cinnamon, and which will be in the contemporary/literary fiction genre. But I've just written a few pages.

 

So as you see, I've got a lot of writing-related things to do, all at the same time. So it's going to be a hectic couple of months!

"Writing outdoors 3"

All right, I admit it. This hasn't happened to me: my manuscript has never been eaten by an evil-looking goat (yes, it is meant to be a goat).
However, I do think that ferocious wild beasts are one of the hazards faced by the courageous would-be novelist determined to make the most of the sunshine and write outdoors!

"Writing outdoors 2"

And here's another drawback of writing outdoors... The worse is not so much being wet: it's the splodges on your manuscript that turn the scene you've just written in a sodden mess of ink and rainwater!

As Winter Came and Went - Extract 6

Hmm... Those extracts are becoming shorter and shorter... I might post an extra one to make up for this!

 

The problem is that I do not want to reveal any spoilers that would ruin the palpitating and well-constructed plot (there, people who have read the book are raising their eyebrows and shaking their head and wondering: what plot?).

 

Anyway... Here is this month's offering and I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to tell me what you think in the comment.

 

I chose it because I feel in an autumnal mood and because, though it is not from the beginning of the book, being very descriptive it reveals nothing of my precious plot.

 

Extract from chapter 10

In the woods he strays away from the path, fighting his way through the tangled undergrowth. Bramble, bearing the last, shrunken blackberries of the season. The supple twigs of young oak trees. Fallen leaves creeping over the moss-covered ground. The gnarled trunks are a barrier against the rumour of the sea but the spray still saturates the air, the ground, the lichen and the bark. A salty stickiness, clogging up Dennys’s lungs, dulling his sense of smell, intoxicating and overpowering. And, stopping for a moment, he closes his eyes and becomes part of the wood, rooted in the rotting ground and caressed, like the oaks, by a dream of the ocean he cannot see. 

There is the wishing well, almost in ruins now, sagging as if under its own weight. Bright red, white-spotted toadstools cluster between the roots of a nearby tree. Paving the way to another world. Do the fairies still dwell there? Do they still dance round and round the ancient trees at dusk and through the night? Another world, but he belongs nowhere.
He hears the rain before he feels it and the bare branches cannot protect him. Translucent jewels on the bright green moss; a spider’s web becomes a pearl necklace. A tiny mouse scuttles under dock leaves. In the summer, foxgloves grow between the stones of the well, thriving in the damp dark shade, another refuge for the little people. The amber eyes of a fox meet his. The sodden russet and white of its fur, as it slinks out from behind a bush. The fox does not lower its gaze, does not hurry away. Recognition. It saw not a man but a changeling. 

"Writing outdoors 1"

As I wrote earlier this year, I love writing outdoors. But sometimes, the universe seems to decide that I should better write inside, at a desk, like any normal person, instead of sprawling in the grass... A gust of wind, and I'm running after the pages of my precious manuscript. But the next day, I'm outside again. Because I think that writing at a desk, like any normal person, is not fun at all!

Trying to find an idea...

Trying to find an idea for a piece of writing is like…

…going in an attic, full of dust and cobwebs. Looking through the boxes piled up there, opening chests and trunks, hoping to find a treasure, a jewel. Rummaging through old, torn, clothes, that can never be used again, but still have been kept, for one reason or another. Coming across, from time to time, an interesting piece of furniture, or a souvenir from a holiday, several years ago. And trying to decide, what can be recycled, what can be given a second life. What can become an idea.

…opening a cupboard, expecting to find a box of triple chocolate cookies. But only finding a solitary piece of very old, very green, very mouldy, very smelly Camembert cheese. And realising that somebody else has already eaten all the cookies.

…picking flowers in a meadow to create a bouquet. Finding, sometimes, tall sunflowers and fragrant roses. Purple foxgloves and cornflowers. Poppies and daisies and buttercups. Or finding nothing at all. Having enough to create a small posy. Adding ferns and longgrasses to make a more interesting arrangement. And there are days when the bouquet is wonderful and harmonious, and others when nothing fits together, nothing works.

…trying to come up with a new recipe. Using elements from tried and tested ones. Putting them together, experimenting. Hoping to come up with a bold and delicious new dish, but sometimes it is uneatable, and sometimes you realise it has already been done before and you have invented nothing. 

 …exploring a deep dark wood, in the middle of which, it is said, there is a lake, well worth the trouble of a long hike. But the path leading to it is not direct and there are many crossroads, many byways. And you risk losing yourself in this deep dark wood, going round and round in circles, until the night falls and you haven’t reached the lake.

…planting seeds in a garden, from a packet with no label. Will flowers grow? Or vegetables? An apple tree? A pear tree maybe? You water them, you watch over them. You wait for spring and warm sunshine. For rain to nourish the damp earth. Budding green leaves; but still you don’t know. What will you get?

…eating the last crumbs of a tasty cake. Wanting again to find the taste that you enjoyed so much. Again, again, until the dish is licked quite clean. And you find yourself with an empty plate.

Trying to find an idea for a piece of writing, an article, a short story, a novel, fiction or non fiction, is hard. Trying to find an idea for a piece of writing is staring at a blank page, trying to decide if your knowledge or your imagination will be enough. That’s what I did and found it was not so: trying to find an idea is sometimes realising you do not have any. So what do I write about? Trying to find an idea…

"This novel has so much potential..."

Writing by hand

 

Though all the editing and formatting of my novel As Winter Came and Went was, is and will be done on my computer, the first draft was written by hand, on actual, real paper. And the first draft of this novel’s sequel, which I’m currently writing, is also being done by hand. Why is that? 

I like writing. No, not being a writer (well, that too, but not just). I mean writing in the “physical” sense of the term. I like the feel of ink flowing onto the paper. I like holding a pen. I like my manuscript to have a physical incarnation. I like seeing it grow physically, the single page that started it becoming a dozen pages then a whole stack of them. I like to feel the weight of a nice, plump little manuscript. I like to have a tangible proof of my achievement. 

Another good thing with writing by hand is that there’s only one way you can go: forward. Unlike when you’re writing on a computer, you cannot go back and edit/delete/move a whole section. So, in a way, you have to think, to decide if those words you’re going to write are really worth anything, if you do want to waste a whole page and your time writing them. And at the same time I find that this tends to ward off the dreaded blank page syndrome: you go on writing, knowing that now is not the time to edit, that you’ll have all the opportunity to do that later. It prompts reflection, but also a definite sense of freedom. 

Writing my first draft by hand means that when I edit it, I have to do it thoroughly: I do it at the same time as I type it on the computer. It is very time consuming, but it forces me to go through the manuscript, to see what works and what doesn’t. When I typed the different chapters of As Winter Came and Went, I deleted whole scenes that were present in the handwritten manuscript. And I was also able to correct incoherencies: because it had taken me so long to complete this manuscript, many things had changed, concerning the plot, concerning the characters, between the first page and the last. Since this round of edit was more like a rewrite of a story, I was able to tie loose ends and include those changes relatively smoothly. 

But my favourite aspect of writing by hand is that you can write anywhere. Outdoors, in a garden, by the sea... Sitting on the floor, sprawling on a sofa… All you need is a pen and a piece of paper. No need to worry about your laptop or your phone’s battery. No need to worry about saving your work on an USB disk, when it’s midnight and you’ve just finished writing a scene of your novel and all you want is to go to bed. No need to worry about Internet connection. It is a way of regaining a freedom that the electronic world took from us, at the same time as it gave us remarkable advantages.

I have to admit that when I first started to write the manuscript of As Winter…, I wrote by hand much, much quicker than I typed, which meant that I was able to write by hand as fast as I was thinking. Now I type much faster, but I still prefer writing my first draft by hand, for all the reasons named above. 

However, writing by hand does not only have advantages! If, like me, you like writing outdoors, rain can be a hazard (but it would be a problem even with a laptop…). Or the wind… There have been several occasions where I’ve had to run after pages from my manuscript which were flying away, all in different directions (a good thing I almost always number them!)… And inevitably, as your novel grows and your story develops, the number of pages does the same until the whole thing becomes rather…unwieldly. But isn’t it the proof you’re actually achieving something?

"Quality should prevail over quantity"

I tend to grumble about the fact that my novel is too long, that 160,000 words is too long, that I should really cut some scenes and so on... But I have to admit that part of me is actually proud of this achievement. I know I shouldn't be. I know that a long novel is not necessarily a better novel. Yeah, but it's still 160,000 words long. I wrote 160,000 words. And I feel smug. That is...until I have to edit those thousands of words for the hundredth time. Then I wish I'd written a short story!

Going on for too long

Do you sometimes think that there are book series that go on for too long? I do. I’ve been wanting to write a post about it for some time, and since I’ve realised that I’m a little behind schedule and need an article for my blog, I’ve decided this could be a good subject – and I’m short of ideas, and it’s 11 pm, and I’m writing this in bed, and I want to put the article on the blog tomorrow morning (which will be today for you, and no, I’m not going to reflect on this time distortion thing or I’ll get a headache – now I’m starting to write utter nonsense – I really need to be more focussed on what I was meaning to write... what was it?... ah, yes...), so...

I’ve also been reflecting on this recently, because I’ve just finished the fifth book in a very popular series (which will remain unnamed for now) and… Well, I found it so disappointing I’ll probably give up on this series: I had already noticed the quality of the books was irregular, but this one really was quite awful.

No, awful is too strong a word… It was well written and quite enjoyable. A bit on the long side (well over 1000 pages), but the author seems to have the knack to keep you reading, even when nothing happens… That, actually, was one of the biggest problems. Nothing happened. Now, if people who beta-read my own novel read this, they’ll probably shake their head and think: “what! She’s criticising someone for having written a book that’s too long and where nothing happens? When she’s done exactly the same thing?”

Yes, maybe, but the problem is that things were meant to happen in this series! It was meant to be about action and adventure and romance! That’s what the first books were about: love and war and fighting and... and I’ll say no more or you’ll guess which series I’m talking of, and that’s not my point. So I was expecting this volume to be in the same vein. About people being torn by love and war and the weight of time and history, not about people wandering aimlessly from one place to another and back, gathering herbs, and breastfeeding babies, and having babies poo on them, and wanting to have sex with each other. For...more...than...one...thousand...pages... Ugh...

So I finished the book thinking, this series has been going on for too long, and I’ve been reading it for too long. This volume lacked the freshness and originality of the first, which, in a way, is inevitable. Some of the interesting aspects, because they were repeated too many times, became formulaic and boring. New characters, introduced in the course of the series, did not necessarily excite my sympathy as much as the original cast had. And these original characters... Well, I have to admit I do not like them as much as I did before. Partly because, in spite of the series having gone on and on, they have not matured, they have not really evolved and they keep doing and thinking the same things all over again.

This leads me to wonder: does the author of this series go on churning book after book because she actually has something to say about those characters? Or because the series is successful and she wants to make the most of it? Or because there is a demand for sequels on the part of devoted readers? Or is it a mix of all those reasons? Is there anything that justifies the story going on and on? Is the evolution of the characters meant to span decades? Does the story legitimately need a dozen books to unfold? Or can it stop earlier?

Good things have to come to an end. There is a moment when both the reader and the author have to say goodbye to the characters of a novel. Not necessarily because their story has come go an end, but because it has to stop being told. Because they have to live their lives beyond the pages of a book.

A satisfactory ending is important. A conclusion. A farewell to the world of a story. I sometimes feel that series that go on for ever cheat you out of that ending, out of those goodbyes, which can be sad, but are also necessary. You read on, book after book, longing for that conclusion, not wanting to give up, because you know something else has been written about those characters you love, defining their fate, making if real in a way. And you have to know.

And for an author, I guess it is easier to go on writing about those characters you know and love and are used, to rather than give them an ending. It’s easy to go on for too long, and the good thing, for me, about writing this article, is that it’ll remind me, when I pick up my pen to begin writing Book 187 in the As Winter Came and Went saga, how annoyed I am as reader when series go on for too long. And maybe I’ll think twice, or maybe I’ll just shrug and say: “who cares? I’m the author and I make the decisions!”

"Listen to your characters and let them shape your story"

This is a piece of advice I've heard a lot as a would-be novelist. And it certainly gives interesting results!

As Winter Came and Went - Extract 5

And it's time for another, this time rather short, extract of my novel!

This one directly follows extract 1, which was the incipit of the novel.

Please note that this is not necessarily the final version since I am still in the process of revising my manuscript.

Extract of chapter 1

They watch him as he falls, they watch him as he lies, unconscious on the deck, his face pale against the weathered planks, his hair tousled like that of a boy deep in sleep, and they gather round him, full of curiosity. 

“You, go and fetch the surgeon, quick!” a small, portly man tells the cabin-boy. 

“What happened, General?” the captain asks. 

“He fainted, I guess,” the portly man replies. “Give him some air.” He waves away the members of the crew who are bending over the young man.

“Do you think it’s sunstroke? Looks like it.”

The captain shakes his head. “All I hope is that it isn’t serious and that he reaches England alive. He has been too much trouble already. Not that I blame him but… As I was telling you, General, his is a strange story. It is all very tragic. And we do not know half of what happened. I tried to ask him but… He’s got a sharp temper. Ah, here you are.” The cabin-boy is back, accompanied by the surgeon. “What do you make of that?”

“He caught a fever in Africa, didn’t he? Such an unhealthy climate, Africa… He doesn’t look too well. You, get me some water.”

The cabin boy goes away, grumbling that he isn’t a slave and that he is fed up with doing everyone’s errands.

“What’s all this about?” a young midshipman asks him.

“It’s O’Connor. He fainted on the deck.”

“Is it serious?”

The cabin boy shrugs. “He’s doing it to get all the attention. Fainting’s for women, not men. It’s not me that’d be caught fainting because of a bit of sun.”

“You should be more charitable.”

“Why? I tell you, he’s craving for attention. And there’s nothing extraordinary about him.”

“Except that he crossed the Sahara alone.”

“He got lost in the desert, that’s what the captain said. And he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place, he was supposed to have died from a fever a year ago.”

“You’ve been eavesdropping again…”

“What’s the harm? There’s nothing to do on this boat. Sometimes I think I should have stayed home.” He left his mother one night, without a word, without a backward glance, for the sake of adventure, to become a man. 

“What were you expecting? Pirates? Storms? A wreck? I’m sorry you’re disappointed. At least we’ve got a ghost.”

"Ideas battling for attention"

Having no ideas is very discouraging. But having too many can be quite daunting, especially as it is hard to tell which ones are actually any good!

What's up?

I've got several writing projects at the moment and I thought that maybe I could present them quickly. They're all in different stages of progress.

First there's As Winter Came and Went, about which you've already read a lot if you've been following this blog for some time. I'm currently editing it for the hundredth time to make it ready for publication, which will be next December (on the 4th).

Meanwhile, I'm also working on the first draft of its sequel. Since the first one took me about 5 years to write, I'm hoping to beat my record with this one, because I don't think people will went to wait 5 years before getting to know what happens to the characters of As Winter... if they are indeed interested in knowing. So I'm hoping to have completed half of the 1st draft by next September and to have finished the first draft in another year. Then I guess the different edits and so on will take yet another year. So if all goes to plan, I'm hoping to publish it in 2021!

Then I've got three other writing projects. One I worked on for part of last year, which means I'm about one third into the first draft. However, it isn't going as well as I was hoping: it's enjoyable to write but I think people might find it a bit boring... The working title of this project is "The Witch." Another project is a few years old already. If I do complete it, it will be more of a novella than a novel. And the last project has not really been started yet, but I'd love to do so because I'm quite excited about it. I might try to start working on it if I make enough progress with As Winter... I cannot be sure now that ot will be any good, but I think I'll enjoy writing it. The code name of this project is "Cinnamon."

And of course, I forgot, at one point I'll have to write the 3rd book in the As Winter.... series. I want to say, the third and last book, but actually I've got ideas for a 4th. However, it is not always a good idea to make a series go on for too long, so I might not write it after all.

So, lots of projects as you can see. Now it's up to me to not let myself be overwhelmed by them and to actually complete them! Only As Winter... is past the dreaded and dangerous 1st draft stage, but it is still taking a lot of my time. Onece I've published it, I'll probably be able to concentrate on the others.

"Re-reading your handwritten manuscript..."

Having an awful, illegible handwriting means that your manuscripts are sort of safe from prying eyes... It's more bothering, however, when you realise you cannot reread what you've written either! 

Writing the book you want to read

 

 

In a previous post, I wrote about the many rules that sometimes hinder the act of writing. There is one, however, with which I cannot but agree, though it is more an advice than a rule, and I cannot really remember when I first came across it. This advice is: write what you want to read.

I don’t suppose I’m the only one in this situation, but as a reader, I tend to get a little frustrated at times with some novels, even ones I love. There’s always something that doesn’t really work for me. A scene I don’t like. A character I love being killed off. Too much or not enough romance. Too much or not enough adventure…

I will love the style of one novel, the characters of another, the plot of a third. But I have yet to find my perfect novel. And the “my” is important: this is all down to personal taste and I don’t expect my ideal novel would necessarily please another reader. And maybe I’m just a really fussy, annoying person who’s always finding something wrong and complaining about finicky little details. Probably. But I’m sure I’m not the only one like that. Please tell me I’m not the only constantly unsatisfied reader!

All right, not constantly unsatisfied. But still looking for the perfect novel I could call my all-time favourite, I could rave about for hours on end, I would have absolutely no reserves about. I mean, I’ve got favourite novels. Novels I liked. Novels I absolutely love. But I’ve realised recently that I haven’t got an all-time favourite book. Or I think I have, for a couple of years, and then I reread the book in question and see that after all, no, I don’t like it so much (all right, all right, I’m just a fussy, annoying person). 

And this leads me back to the initial subject of this post, writing the book you want to read. That’s the wonderful thing about being a novelist (or a would-be novelist): you can write, or try to write, your favourite novel of all times. You can create your own favourite book. That doesn’t mean it will be a masterpiece, or that it will be another person’s favourite. But you, but anyone, can write (and even publish!) the novel they want to read, the novel they need to read, the novel that will allow them to escape in a wonderful fictional world, the novel that will help them understand their own world better, the novel that will entertain, uplift, please them. 

When I started writing my novel, I wasn’t thinking of that. I wasn’t thinking of writing the book I most wanted to read. But I realise in hindsight, after having reread and edited and reread it for a hundred times at least, that it’s actually what I’ve done. As Winter Came and Went contains a number of elements I would want my perfect novel to have. And I’m not saying it is everyone’s cup of tea. Another person could find it boring and uninteresting. Another might like some aspects and not others. But I think I’ve written the novel I, personally, wanted to find in a bookshop and read and enjoy.

It all comes down towriting what you want and enjoying the process. You are the sole decision-maker when you create your novel. You can take your characters wherever you want them to go. You can write the story in whatever style you want. You are completely free.

And anyway, it’s important to enjoy the writing process. If you’re bored by your own story, well… I don’t suppose other readers will enjoy it then. If you love your story, you’ll have at least one satisfied reader: yourself. And even if everything else fails, if your novel doesn’t sell, if no one wants to read it, writing the book you wanted to read, writing a book you love will have been an achievement in itself.

"A would-be novelist's daydreams"

I know, I know. I should NOT indulge in such fantasies. I should not be so delusional. But I don't think any would-be novelist has not daydreamed, at least once, about something like this (please tell me that I'm not the only one!!!). Not that I really think this is likely to happen. I may daydream, but I'm rather level-headed otherwise. Still, you never know... (just joking!)

Rules, rules, rules!

When I decided to self-publish my novel, one of my first moves was to join writer’s groups on the internet, in order to learn more about the tricks of the trade, to discuss, to exchange and to connect with people who were going through the same process as I was. However, the discussions on those groups did not only revolve on what happens after a book has been written: the majority concerns the actual act of writing fiction. And I was surprised to see that this act of writing is subject to an immense number of rules.

Show don’t tell. Write about what you know. Thrillers have to follow this formula. Romances have to follow that formula. If you do otherwise, then your book isn’t in the right genre. You must limit yourself to one type of point of view (aka POV). You must not have too many POV characters. If a scene is not useful to the plot, delete it. You must not change POV in the middle of a chapter. Do not use too many adverbs. Do not use too many adjectives. Do this, do that…

All right, maybe I exaggerate. Just a little. The fact is that there seems to be a great number of rules that should, ultimately, allow you to write a good novel. Good according to the criteria they have set. A recipe is given to would-be novelists (like me), and if you don’t follow it… Well, editors, agents and Co won’t follow you either, because what you write will not be what they expect to read. Or what the market expects to read.

 There seems to be a general tendency, according to which people, and what they write, are put into little boxes. Well-defined little boxes. Little boxes defined by a specific set of rules. And I’m both appalled and frustrated by that

Not that I refuse to admit that rules are important, and even useful. When you’re a beginner, they give you guidelines. They can help you to sort of tame your imagination while spurring on your inspiration. They pave a road for you that, ultimately, could lead to publication. They help you to write better. But the road they allow you to follow is lined with huge walls over which you cannot see. Which block out any view, narrowing your horizon, and your fiction as well.

Rules should be followed and used carefully. They should be guidelines, not obligation, when it comes to fiction, at least. For fiction, in a way, is the celebration of imagination. Fiction should be rich and luscious, at times innovative, at times a little unruly. Fiction should break away from rules. Fiction is creation, and as such it must constantly recreate itself, lest it should become stale.

Rules are comfortable, and safe. Rules give an illusion of control. If you do not follow rules, you are judged. But look at literature, look at past writers. Look at which one we remember today, which ones are studied at school and universities. They often are the ones who broke the rules, who reinvented fiction, who breathed a new life into it. 

So every rule should come with this label: “use with care.” And if it has to be broken, why not? Who cares if what you write isn’t what agents and publishers want to read? Self-publishing options make it much easier to become published and get your book out into the world. And also to make your own choices and decisions. 

So all of you, would-be novelists, if you want to break the rules, do so. If your book does not fit into any given genre, invent another one. If you make mistakes, if your book doesn’t work, it doesn’t matter. We are here to learn and experiment. We are here to keep literature alive. We are here to create. We are here to write what we want to write, not what people expect us to write.