An Ode to All of the Unfinished Novels in the World
The novelist as finisher
I sometimes wonder how many great novels are sitting in dusty drawers, half-finished, abandoned, perhaps forgotten. Novels that burst forth at the beginning, carrying their writer with them, but then hitting a wall, as all novels do, or hitting two or three walls, before the writer gave up, exhausted, dispirited — perhaps not knowing that flagging energy is as much a part of novel writing as plot itself.
I know there are sadly too many novels that have ended up with this fate. It takes a lot of stamina to write a novel, after all. Writing a novel has been compared to going through nine months of pregnancy, running a marathon, climbing a mountain, or even going to war. And it can feel like all of those things in one.
But here’s a curveball for you to reckon with: there actually aren’t any great novels sitting in dusty drawers because the stamina it takes to finish a novel is the same kind of stamina that it takes to make a novel good. So your main task as a novelist is to train for endurance, to be a finisher, to trust that the very act of finishing is the magic itself.
Here are a few things to toss into your storytelling mixology to help you reach the end (this piece is adapted from my Writer’s Digest article in the November 2021 issue, “The Alchemy Required to Finish a Novel,” which is available in this free PDF, Challenge Accepted: Your NaNoWriMo Toolkit).
Play the Long Game
One thing that prevents many writers from finishing their novels is that the duration it takes to finish a novel abrades their creative zestfulness and exhausts their attention span. It’s critical to remember that training for a marathon isn’t just about training your body; it’s preparing your mind to run for such a long period of time.
One way to lessen the daunting nature of writing such a big thing is to wave a wand over it and make it into a lot of small things (which is how writing a 50,000-word novel in the month of November becomes suddenly manageable if viewed as 1,667 words a day). Beyond NaNoWriMo, if you write a “mere” 200 words a day, that translates into 6,000 words a month, which is 72,000 words per year — which is a decent size novel. If you focus on a small manageable chunk of work, it has a way of creating its own momentum and carrying you further along.
Grit Matters as Much as Plot
Every novel requires a simple four-letter word that is as important as imagination itself and its own kind of enchantment: grit. Grit is a superheroic elixir. It’s more than just persistence. It’s a persistence that’s fortified with passion, optimism, and hope — a combination that coalesces into a steely and unwavering purpose that keeps us moving with consistent effort toward our goal even when we struggle or falter or outright fail. Grit equips us with a shield that deflects nettlesome naysayers and our own damning doubts. It’s an energy drink, a pep talk, a sprinkle of fairy dust, and a compass all in one.
Grit also breeds another magical elixir, resilience, which helps us be adaptable enough to overcomes whatever obstacles come our way.
The Magic of Uncovering New Layers
It’s important to remember that there is something beyond the constant persistence and determination necessary to finish a novel: there is the glorious and bounteous magic of excavating layer after layer of its depth and finding new riches where you don’t expect to find them. This is the reward that draws us on through those dark and confusing labyrinths. It’s the scent we follow through the wilderness when we think we’re lost.
The magic of discovery in a first draft is only deepened with subsequent drafts and revision. Many people view revision like they do a teacher’s red marks of correction, but editing your story is actually about probing its depths and giving it more color. It means experiencing the numinous nuances and the mysterious musings that are your story’s gift. It means paying attention to the language of your story — the rhythm of your sentences, the music of your words, the timbre of your voice. It means looking at your story world with a telescope to view its horizons and a microscope to understand its cellular interactions.
Recasting Your Mindset
When I talk about grit, resilience, and persistence, I sometimes feel like I’m casting writers as coal miners who are digging their way through the darkness to the center of the earth.
What if we view ourselves not as coal-mining authors with a pick and chisel, but as alchemists? What if our rewriting is a matter of sprinkling charms upon a story, casting spells, looking under rocks (aka words) for enchanted kingdoms?
We are diviners as writers, following the mystical pull of our stick in search of the nourishment of water. Yes, we sometimes have to walk far to find an underground stream, but when we find it, has the water ever tasted as clear and cool?
Remain Curious
A good diviner is led by the primary power of all creation: curiosity. Think about what made you curious about your story to begin with. We write in anticipation, in pursuit, following the scent of our story like an explorer in a new world, in awe of the hills and dales that appear around the next bend.
If you write with curiosity, you’ll fill your reader with curiosity, so try to keep the curiosity you started your story with until the very end. You are Alice in Alice in Wonderland: you want out, but the way out is to go further and further in.
We want our stories to hold surprise, after all, and writing a novel should inspire playfulness, wonder, and awe. As Robert Frost said, “No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.”
Remembering the Meaning of It All
For a writer, life hasn’t really been lived until one’s stories find their way onto the page, so don’t doubt yourself. The signature of yourself is formed by the work you put into your story. Making art tells you who you are. Making art in turn makes you.
So it’s your duty as a writer, as a person, to build a world through your words and believe in your story as a beautiful work of incarnation, to see it as a gift to yourself and others, as something that elevates life with new meaning — your meaning.
Therein the magic lies.
The Rundown
Reading: Dear Memory, by Victoria Chang
Listening to: Suspiria, by Thom Yorke
Lusting for: Simplicity.
Inspiration: "Be willing and unafraid to write badly, because often the bad stuff clears the way for good, or forms a base on which to build something better.” ~ Jennifer Egan
Random question: What if you write someone from your past?
Photo prompt: Write this story …
