The 13 secrets to writing a really good novel

One would imagine that the glamour professions of today – YouTuber, influencer, star athlete, crypto millionaire – would not include the humble old novelist. But guess what? “Writer” often storms to the top of dream career surveys, and it seems that the multitudes still believe they have a novel in them, and not only a video game or an OnlyFans site.

Writing fiction, if taken seriously, is a compulsion, and many who want to complete a whole novel end up living a lifetime of frustration. There are a couple of issues here. Firstly, they think that publication will solve all their problems. It won’t. And secondly, they are often stymied by the same mistakes, both technical and psychological. There are ways around some of these.

Can creative writing be taught? Yes and no. Pure talent cannot. Most of the rest of it really can. As a novelist, literary critic and creative writing tutor, I’ve taught for more than 20 years, and I’ve seen the same problems emerging through my time at Arvon, Birkbeck, City University, and, for the past 14 years, Faber Academy, a writing school which nurtures hundreds of students through its six-month Writing A Novel programme, and has also seen more than 200 of those students’ novels published – including plenty of bestsellers.

So here, I offer a few insights.

Just do it

It’s basically as simple as that. The problem is, we stop ourselves….

There are no rules

Fully mature students often ask, “Am I allowed to…?” There are no rules to creative writing. If there are, some of the greatest novelists have broken them. Experiment, push boundaries, create what’s in your heart. As the late, great Toni Morrison said, “If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” This is a rule-free activity, but there are certainly craft elements, short cuts, and psychological tricks that can help and above all save you years of mistakes.

‘I don’t have time’

Life can be very full, hard, and exhausting. If so, get up 10 minutes earlier and write. Turn down a dinner party. Scrawl in your lunch break. As novelist, mother of three and business owner Charlotte Philby says, “Ultimately, there is always a reason why not to write. If you really want to do it, you just have to sit down and get the words out, and then edit the hell out of them.” Let’s face it – and let’s face ourselves – the lazy gits amongst us come up with gothically elaborate excuses. But the maxim “If you want something done, ask a busy person” applies. I had one student who had a full-time job, was heavily pregnant with her second child and still did more work than the majority of her peers.

Less is more

Many many people fail to write because they think they must put in hours, daily, to get anywhere. They fall at the first hurdle. If you set yourself very small aims each day, such as 10 minutes of fast unedited writing, you can build on that. Work towards the Pomodoro Technique: 25-minute chunks of work followed by a break. It’s amazing how much you can achieve on just one daily Pomodoro. You can get free timers, such as the Be Focused app, if this helps, and then switch off the WiFi and your phone. It’s good to mark your progress, and even better to see how many words you accumulate in short, intense bursts that can be redrafted later.

Perfectionism equals procrastination

So many of us never progress because we have an idea of that “perfect” novel in our heads, and the reality never matches up to it. That’s inevitable. The way to break through this, in the words of writing resistance coach Monica Hay, is to “make messy art”. She also encourages “free writing”, ie writing without stopping or editing, to create a draft. You might splurge out an embarrassing torrent of poetic nonsense (a “vomit draft” as some call it), but there will be something there to salvage, and cutting and much eventual re-drafting does wonders. The War of Art by Steven Pressfield can also help with procrastination.

Beware autobiography

In reality, many first – and later – novels are disguised memoirs, and real life can form the most passionate inspiration, but without the necessary objectivity, these novels run the risk of presenting idealised main characters. For example, our protagonist – let’s name her Moi – is a beautiful, sensitive, wronged, and generally remarkable being. But remember, wish fulfilment is never that fascinating for the reader, and the novel will probably lack narrative momentum. The trick is to stand back and invent. Change facts, visualise Moi as someone else, change points of view, and shock your story into a different direction so it doesn’t end up as a massive exercise in onanism. However…

Plot – or not?

Navel gazing is somewhat fashionable. We do happen to have hit the era of “sad girl lit”. Largely thanks to the cult of Sally Rooney, the ruminations of Millennials are tolerated and indeed lauded. My 21-year-old daughter said she cares more about character than plot, and primarily wants to read what she calls “weird girls thinking shit”. However, reams of plot-light inner turmoil are hard to pull off, and there’s a fine line between this and the meanderings of unpublishable first novels. Look at your screen more than your navel. If in doubt, have a plot. In fact, have a plot.

Show, don’t tell

If there was anything approaching one useful creative writing rule, it would be that old saw “show, don’t tell’. As readers, we simply don’t want to be told what to think, or have someone’s interior monologues, dreams or intentions explained, i.e. “told”. We want to follow a bloody good slice of human drama unfolding. Understanding this properly is often a revelation to early novelists. All you really need is the famous Chekhov quote: “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” Genius.

Don’t assume you’re a genius

As writers, we swing between imagining we’re Shakespeare and admitting we’re illiterate on a daily basis. Despair needs to be overcome, but leave your genius at the door. I’ve endured occasional middle-aged mansplaining (younger men are largely exempt) as an unpublished writer strides in for “advice” and proceeds to tell me how to write a novel while explaining his own brilliance because I’m failing to understand. These are usually not the brilliant ones. As you’ve guessed.

Murder your darlings

You know you have to. You just don’t want to.

Stop waiting for the muse

She may never come, and I refuse to even contemplate the idea of writer’s block. No other profession lets you off the hook, so you have to treat novel writing as a job. The students I see published aren’t always necessarily the most talented ones. But they’re the most dedicated and persistent. If you really can’t get into the zone, go for a walk to shake things up and get the blood flowing. Oxygen pumps your brain with all sorts of inspiration. And don’t forget to make notes. I dictate into my phone, and if a thought comes to me at night, I either scrawl it down or fashion a mnemonic – often initials – so I remember in the morning.

Understand it’s hard

Once you understand that just about everyone who manages to write a whole novel finds it a hard, lonely and nerve-wracking process as well as a joyful and fulfilling one, you can expect and accept the difficult elements. It’s a marathon and not a sprint. It’s largely about taming your own psyche. As Zadie Smith says, “It’s such a confidence trick, writing a novel. The main person you have to trick into confidence is yourself.”

And finally

The best, most useful quote I’ve ever found is this, by Isak Dinesen: “Write a little every day, without hope, without despair.” Get going.

Joanna Briscoe’s latest novel is ‘The Seduction’