One bit of advice the “experts” give to novice writers is to read extensively. An author cannot truly know the tropes and reader expectations of his or her genre unless he or she reads extensively within that genre. The best way to know what readers want now is to read the books that are popular now in that genre.
I’ve been doing a lot of reading and little (or nothing) in the way of writing lately.
It’s a cycle with me. I’ll go gangbusters and produce several books then burn out. So, while I have one manuscript that’s a work in progress (actually, I have many) and a few more story concepts on the figurative back burner of my mind, I haven’t done anything with them. When it comes to writing my own books, I’m entirely undisciplined. I write when inspiration strikes, not by any imposed schedule or daily word count goals.
A lot of new writers lose steam when it comes to writing novel-length stories. Some wallow in world-building, not knowing how to leap from creating the environment in which their characters will dwell to actually writing their characters’ adventures. The expert advice for them is to explore the character more deeply. What does that character want? What will prevent that character from getting it? How does that character circumvent or conquer those obstacles? And there’s your story.
For those writers who become disenchanted bored with their stories, advice varies. Most well-meaning colleagues suggest scheduling a set amount of time per day dedicated to writing or a word count goal to write every day. That doesn’t work for me, and it probably doesn’t work for some other folks either. After all, I can’t be the only novelist who’s this undisciplined and still remains productive. My advice differs: the frustrated writer should consider abandoning the manuscript.
There’s a method behind this madness.
Let’s be honest, brutally honest. Not everything one writes is worthy of being published. Just as someone who’s just learning to cook doesn’t create wonderful meals ready for restaurant patrons, someone who’s just learning to craft novel-length fiction probably won’t have a novel ready for public consumption. Instead, I suggest the writer consider what he or she has learned from the project. What has the practice taught him or her? Has the project fulfilled its purpose in what it had to teach the writer? If so, then take to heart the lessons learned and move on to the next project … and do it better.
Practice doesn’t make perfect, because in writing there’s no such thing as perfection. Practice does, however, build competence; it contributes toward mastery. Writing, first and foremost, is a craft. Anyone can learn to be competent, but not everyone can or will master this craft. A good writer understands that and seeks to master his or her chosen craft. Mastery takes both practice and exposure to other people’s work. If you work in a vacuum, then you don’t learn; you dig deep ruts that suit your tastes without learning to cater to the readers’ preferences.
I can’t claim to write to market, but I primarily write for myself. I do, however, take reader reviews into consideration and apply the lessons learned as I embark upon new projects. It’s one way I continually refine and learn and improve as a writer. Another way is to read what’s popular. I don’t necessarily want to emulate those authors because my style differs from theirs, but I do want to learn from them what works and what doesn’t.
That said, I need to get to work.
