This is precisely the time when artists go to work...

Let's not forget that in writing, and life, one step backwards can create two steps forwards

One of the most challenging moments when writing any of my novels is when I realise something isn’t working, and I’m going to have to significantly unpick my efforts so far to set it right. This hasn’t happened with every book, but it just happened again - argh! However, I’ve always known that this is part of the writing process, and I realise now that it’s a sign of a book’s potential strength rather than its weakness. The work is asking more of me: to dig deeper and do better.

I managed to write When She Was Gone to a fairly organised plan, and produced the first draft in three months, which was super fast for me. And because I’m an idiot who forgets that every one of my books likes to follow its own rules (even though I’ve written nine books now and should know better), I then told myself I could do this quick first draft on repeat! I also forgot that a book can be affected by whatever is going on in my life too. So, of course this book is taking a LOT longer, keeping me humble, and serving as a salient reminder that I do not write like a robot. Finding the depth, purpose and narrative structure of the story sometimes takes a while. But persevering is always worth it.

I’ve set myself a massive challenge with my current work-in-progress, and while I don’t want to talk about that too much yet, I can tell you I’m playing around with the themes of a couple of very famous novels as well as multiple timelines and points of view, and therefore it’s taken time to find my way into the story. Last week I realised that some of my chapters had become almost 5000 words long – which isn’t what I’m after when writing a pacy thriller. I therefore spent the week splitting up all my scenes and putting them back together again – playing with my giant story jigsaw, if you will – and looking for the way through. I think I’m beginning to find it, which is exciting, even though there’s a fair way to go.

It’s all served as a reminder that sometimes I will have to go temporarily backwards to ultimately go forwards. And if I allow this to happen, I usually end up getting further, faster.

Right now, I’m also very tired. I’ve been dealing with some difficult personal situations, while watching the dictatorial shifts in the new US administration being spun as progress and developing terrifyingly fast. I get scared when I listen too much, but feel it’s important not to check out completely. I worry for my two girls, whose world should be opening up in the next decade. I sometimes want to give up and just shy away – whether from the pressures of work or from the outside world. I crave solitude and turn inwards – and I certainly don’t believe there’s anything wrong with cocooning for a bit. However, I’ve realised that, for me, a shift often happens when I’m ready to reach out for support or companionship in some way. It might be picking up books and reading the ideas and thoughts from my writing heroes. It could be messaging a friend or going for a drink with my husband. Or it’s as easy as playing with my kids and the dog. It’s definitely about listening to the people who fortify and inspire me – and turning once again to the writers who have sustained me my whole life.

In the days after the US election last year, I checked in with a gorgeous colleague and friend who lives there and is working on the screen adaptation of The Hush. As part of her response she sent me this quote from Toni Morrison – without knowing that she is one of my writing heroes and that I wrote my dissertation on Beloved.

“This is precisely the time when artists go to work. There is no time for despair, no place for self-pity, no need for silence, no room for fear. We speak, we write, we do language. That is how civilizations heal. I know the world is bruised and bleeding, and though it is important not to ignore its pain, it is also critical to refuse to succumb to its malevolence. Like failure, chaos contains information that can lead to knowledge — even wisdom. Like art.”

~ Toni Morrison “No Place for Self-Pity, No Room for Fear”

I highly recommend you read the whole article by Morrison in The Nation – it’s powerful, and she wrote it after George W. Bush was re-elected in 2004. If Morrison were still with us, it could just as easily have been written yesterday.

Morrison’s words have held deep meaning for me throughout my life. This is why artists matter – and why we must keep fighting with everything we’ve got for all books, stories and ideas to be shared rather than banned. The inclusive movements that have nurtured stories from everyone – no matter their gender, sexuality, race or heritage – are not a fad we can or should move beyond, they are a moral imperative, essential and life-affirming. We can only understand one another when we truly know how to listen.

I want to go all-in on my stories and creativity too. You might remember that in my last Writing Journal I conducted a poll asking if people wanted only writing insights here, or if readers would like to hear about my own work. The results were that 70% wanted both – but 30% wanted the writing tips and guidance only. I have geared this space for writers, and it would now dilute my focus and yours to talk too much about my own work here. So I’m developing another substack for my readers, which will be all about my work, whether it’s fiction, essays or behind-the-scenes stories. It will also give me a chance to delve more deeply into the topics I love and champion all the writers I admire. It will give me a place to play around with my own creativity, without getting in the way of the vital conversations I want to have with you here.

It’s called Story Matters, and here’s the link to sign up.

From now on I’m holding Toni Morrison’s words close to my heart.

This is precisely the time when artists go to work.

Let’s go!