How I chase the first seed of a story
And why I begin new books by writing as little as possible
My ideas for novels are sparked by the smallest of things. It could be a line in a newspaper, an image that sticks in my mind, or a moral dilemma that ignites my imagination. These first tiny seeds of story are ephemeral and as mesmerising as fireflies in the dark. Once I chase them, some sail quickly away; but others demand further consideration, sticking around, luring me closer, always dancing at the periphery of my thoughts.
If you like to write, you’ll know all about the excitement every author experiences when we hold a tiny possibility in our warm, trembling fingers, freshly caught and shiny new. Coming up with ideas is great fun, but selecting which one to pursue is an exacting business, because once it is chosen, firmly planted as intention and encouraged to germinate, authors will spend a long time and a lot of painstaking effort to bring their stories to fruition. Therefore, at the very start of the process, every writer has to make an important choice. For some of us, in order to grow and establish these scraps of creation, we must first investigate exactly what we’ve found (writing term: ‘plotter’). Others simply decide to begin planting and watering, and to make their discoveries during the development process (writing term: ‘pantser’). Me? I might do some pantsing further down the line, but I begin as a plotter, in a place called immersion.
Immersion is when I move from thinking of an idea to becoming fully focused on capturing the feeling of the story. I never begin by writing things down (except for the odd scrappy note), because before I can even put anything on paper, I need to be able to get inside the story. I want to know my characters, understand the details of each setting, and find out whether the plot is exciting. And to start with, I don’t know much at all: my scenes are sparse, plots are underdeveloped, characters are wooden - and I have an annoying habit of changing their names all the time, while I try to figure out what suits them! At this point, if I try to put my ideas on paper there’s a ‘fixedness’ about my writing that immediately sends me spinning into anxiety. The story is obviously underdeveloped, it doesn’t work, and it reads terribly. So writing is not a priority until I’m ready. Instead, I ask lots of questions as I tune into the world through my characters’ eyes. I study photographs of settings, and watch movies and docos featuring similar themes and events. And I listen as hard as I can.
It helps if the concept feels a little bit too ambitious. I enjoy the challenge of not being sure whether I can actually pull it off (although that often means a few nail-biting experiences along the way!). And I sometimes hold ideas in my mind for years without writing a thing. One story concept has been with me for at least a decade and my agent is convinced I won’t use it, but I’m still keen – it’s just never the right time, partly because I need to do some very expensive research! These kinds of practical considerations – such as funding, personal circumstances, the scope of the project, career trajectory, and the lure of competing ideas – each play their part in my decision-making.
This process of immersion is always how I find my way into my story. However, for some reason, particularly when I feel under time pressure, I am prone to forgetting what works best for me and then I try to rush the story onto the page. Therefore, last week I set off for a long weekend of work without having done much immersion at all, fully expecting to write the first scenes of my novel, and surprise, surprise, I wrote very little. However, I did remember that one of the beautiful things about writing fiction is that ideas can be explored very well while lying down with one’s eyes closed, so I did quite a bit of that (and came up with some excellent ideas – hurrah for the power nap!)
This week I’m back on track and concentrating properly as I work my way into this new story. I love the process of immersion, which I’d classify as slightly different from research, as research can be very practical and external. Through immersion I’m learning how to live and breathe inside my creation, so I can bring it fully to life for my readers. And although I can’t tell you the specifics yet, because an accidental spoiler this early on would be heartbreaking, I can say that I’m enjoying old reruns of British mysteries, I’m researching a beautiful spot in central England for the setting, and the body count is piling up already. As I work, I can sense the story drawing closer, coming to life and making its cautious way towards me; the first chapters and twists slowly revealing themselves. I’m filled with giddy enthusiasm and a heap of uncertainty, hoping I can make it brilliant. Time will tell, but I’ve learned to trust the process, because it always ends with a deep, abiding desire to write.