Hitting the Novel ‘Sweet Spot’

In the second half of 2019, I started writing a crime-thriller. I’d never attempted to write a novel and I was full of the naive excitement of someone who doesn’t realise the world of pain they are about to be in. Every morning at 5am I would jump out of bed, chomping at the bit to find out what my character would get up to in the next scene.

This excitement lasted a few weeks – a month, tops. Slowly, the realisation dawned that, not only was I not invested in the story, but that I probably didn’t care if my protagonist died. In fact, I was quite keen to kill her off. The plot was, frankly, ridiculous and I found myself laughing out loud at some of the choices I was making - not a good sign.

I stuck with it until December, sure that this was probably a normal part of the process and that at some point it would all come together.

But it just didn’t.

I started to dread writing it. The end of the year can really make you assess your direction, and I really didn’t want to spend 2020 in the same authorial turmoil.

So, I did the unthinkable.

I scrapped a novel.

Now, many writers will insist this was a HUGE mistake, and I get where they’re coming from. Writing is a process and it IS important to finish what you start.

But there was another story burning inside me. One that had started to haunt me while I was trying to write that disastrous, ‘wanna kill my protagonist’ novel. This other idea kept haunting me and I couldn’t let it go. I would think about it when I went to sleep. I would think about it when I woke up. Mostly, I would think about it while I was writing the other novel, which was pretty problematic to be honest.

Scrapping that first novel meant I was finally free to pursue what I really wanted to write – a middle-grade fantasy/adventure based on Celtic mythology, with just a little bit of magic thrown in for good measure.

Who knew?

Well, not me – I really wanted to be the next James Patterson, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

It’s set in a world of forests, mountains and rivers. It’s basically where I want to be during this hellish Australian Summer - Scotland. To be honest, it’s where I want to be no matter the weather, but I don’t want to be a traitor to my country.

(Side note: does anyone else think Scotland smells like chicken liver pate? Asking for a friend…)

I started writing this novel a month ago, and I’ve just hit the ‘sweet spot’. My characters are starting to do things I hadn’t anticipated. They have life inside them - personalities, motives, dreams - and I care about what happens to them. It’s an unquestionably cool thing to be part of. Writing in this genre has freed the creative block I was experiencing while writing that crime novel. I can stretch my imagination. I can dispel logic (to a point). I love the process of writing every word, even the ones I know will probably be deleted in the long run.

I think this might be how it’s supposed to feel. It might be what I was meant to write.

And it’s bloody beautiful.