The bigger picture

Writing a book can be a bit like colouring-in.

It’s rarely linear.  You dip in and out of it.  And you’re frequently staring at an empty space, trying to visualise the finished article.

When you’re working on a long project, over several months, there are many times of doubt and disillusionment.  Some days, the colour schemes you’d planned for your wonderful story seem tired and dull.  You just can’t find the right shade of anything, and the entire palette seems lacking. 

These are the days when you want to burn all colours, and set fire to your desk.   Perhaps, you tell yourself, you should start again.  Or perhaps you should never have started, and used your time to do something more altruistic, like planting trees.

So, how best to tackle the behemoth of all projects – the One Big Thing which may consume the best part of a couple of years, and a large chunk (all) of your precious social life?

Well, perhaps writing a book is more like completing a jigsaw puzzle.

You begin by finding the straight edges. Then, as soon as the outer border is in place, you can work your way steadily inwards, from the outside. You have a rough idea of the picture you’re trying to create, but the process of putting it all together can be a bit random. You might work on one corner for a while, and next time flip to another part of the puzzle entirely.

In the beginning, you shift between love and hate.  Between delight and despair.  The initial outer framework which had looked so solid and encouraging, when you’d laid it all out on your table, now looks like a rather limited, empty square.  Today, you can’t imagine how all these pieces will fit inside it. 

Tomorrow, you’re certain you don’t have enough pieces to fill such an enormous box.

Like any puzzle, you realise there are infinite possibilities with the process of putting it all together.  You can do it in any order you like.  But for the whole thing to make sense, each piece does have its rightful place in the end.   And there can be no holes when you’ve finished.

Having committed to the task, it’s sometimes daunting trying to see beyond all the gaps, trying to focus on the bigger picture – the one you had in mind when you had the initial vision. How will all of this come together, and will you have the stamina, and belief, to see it through to the end?

Every day that you show-up to tease this imagined world onto the page, you fall in-and-out of love with the picture, with the story, and all of its colours. You laugh, and sigh, and chew at your fingers, and make endless cups of tea. You pace, you agonise, you feel transported to another place. You think perhaps there really are moments of creative genius here after all.

Writing begins with a first draft.  An outline. Getting down the basics of an idea, and then jumping aboard to see where the journey takes you. Building on a theme, changing direction, creating new characters. Being continually surprised by the power of the imagination, by the sleight-of-hand of the subconscious mind, acting as an enabler.

The subsequent process of editing and proof reading is about weeding-out the flaws.  Distilling your product and retaining only the best. Polishing your words until they shine.

Hopefully, the result of all of this labour is a fabulous story which will capture the imagination of bibliophiles everywhere. Otherwise, what have you been doing for the last couple of years?

Writing a book tends to consume most of your waking hours. It’s always percolating at the back of your mind. Yes, even in the most inconvenient moments. Often when you don’t have a pen.

It’s rather like having a tumultuous affair. Being hounded by a selfish lover, demanding all of your attention. An intrusive voice waking you every morning with all of its urgent needs and ideas.  The constant murmur in your ear as you try to fall asleep. 

It will exhaust you.  It will wring you out.  It will bring angst and joy and tears.

But in the end, it will be worth it.  When you sit back and look at this thing you have pulled together by sheer determination, perseverance and pure invention there can be no greater sense of achievement.

And nothing will stop you from doing it all over again.