Stephen King, Sartre, John Wordsworth, Danielle Zigner and Me

As I return to my thriller and implement all the changes I’ve realised are necessary over the past months, I am having a read of the final 100 pages of Stephen King’s wonderful book, `On Writing'. Here are this week’s gems:

He reminds us that every book worth reading is about `something’. Perhaps my weakness (or one of them) is that it isn’t sufficiently clear what my own something is or rather there have been too many somethings. He says that the job of the second draft is to make that something `even more clear’, which may  require lots of changes and revisions.

Writing about his own struggles with plot he adds: `If there is any one thing I love about writing more than the rest, it’s that sudden flash of insight when you see how everything connects. I have heard it called ``thinking above the curve’’ and it’s that; I’ve heard it called the ``over-logic’’ and it’s that too.’

I had this moment after my session with Danielle Zigner of LBA, when she wanted there to be a connection between the two `bad’ guys, otherwise it would be too much of a coincidence that they both appeared in the protagonist’s life at the same time. My initial instinct had been correct, because I’d made them half brothers in an earlier draft, but then they’d evolved away from one another and one had taken a more prominent role. I’ve now found a much better way to link them than through blood. And I felt a shiver of excitement when I understood how that would work and how much stronger the plot would be as a result.

King adds a word of warning that `starting with the questions and thematic concerns is a recipe for bad fiction’. Good fiction begins with the story and then progresses to the theme. I remember when I was studying Sartre at uni, a constant theme was whether he was a better philosopher than writer. Did his philosophy impact negatively on his writing in terms of having fully rounded characters, rather than ciphers?

King talks about how long you should let your manuscript rest after your first draft (or, I should add, when you think you’ve finally finished it). He advises at least six weeks. I received the same piece of invaluable advice from John Wordsworth of Zeno Agency after having a one to one with him at the York Festival of Writing last September. The two other agents I met showed undiluted enthusiasm for my writing and were pushing to see the whole manuscript as soon as possible, even suggested publishers who might love it as much as they did. They promised to get back to me as soon as possible after the Frankfurt book fair, pinged off immediate responses with kisses and followed me on Twitter! I then never heard from them again, even after a cautious `chase' in November. 

John said: `

But when you've taken it as far as you can - even if that means getting feedback from beta readers, or sticking it in a drawer for a month and rereading with fresh eyes - I'd love to see it. But don't rush it for my sake.'

I should have realised that he was the one genuine person of the three! Instead, I sent it to him far too soon.

King says that for him `the most glaring errors’ on this re-read after the 6 week `rest' are to do with character motivation and I certainly think that’s true of my own manuscript. Most of all he’s looking for what he meant, `because in the second draft I’ll want to add scenes and incidents that reinforce that meaning. I’ll also want to delete stuff that goes in other directions.’

Going back to what John Wordsworth also advised, King shows his manuscript- when it's gone through the second draft- to six or eight people whose opinion he respects. In baseball, he says, `tie goes to the runner; for novelists, it goes to the writer! If some people love your ending and others hate it, same deal- it’s a wash, and tie goes to the writer.’ And that's why writing groups and friends who love to read are invaluable.