I used to think it was a minor miracle that the
world was not hip-deep in books on how to write. There were so many of
them around. I used to wonder how many different ways there could be of
saying the same thing, not to mention wondering why people kept on buying
the same advice over and over again. However, as time has gone by, I
have come to appreciate that people learn in different ways, and that what
suits one person doesn’t necessarily suit another. The philosophical
approach of John Gardner and Dorothea Brande may suit those who have a
clear idea of what they’re doing, and how to set about it, but who need a
little moral support as they set about their business. It will not suit
the person who needs some nuts-and-bolts advice about writing convincing
dialogue. And yes, much as I hate to admit it, there really are still
people who need to have the basics of manuscript layout explained to them.
There are people who are fired with enthusiasm but who don’t know the
first thing about using punctuation. Everyone’s needs can be catered for.
The people who interest me most are those who know
at some fundamental level that they are writers, who have been
inventing stories since they first clasped a small hand round a fat crayon
and set out those first wobbling letters, and who can’t imagine doing
anything else with their lives. Except, they have no idea what a writer
actually looks like. They question other writers, they read about
other writers, they want to know what writers do, and they try to
emulate other writers in order to give a form to their own drive to write.
Too often, they end up disappointed because, well, they’re not Writer X or
Writer Y. Instead, they’re Writer A or B, who needs to figure out an A or
B style, but doesn’t know quite how to set about it. This is where a
book like Your First Novel comes into play. I like the title, for a
start. Your novel. Not my novel, not Laura’s novel, but yours.
It puts the emphasis in the right place, with the person who’s reading and
trying to learn how to be a writer, and how to get published.
Laura Whitcomb, who wrote the first section of the
book, is a published writer with lots of good ideas to help the writer
who is not yet published, and who is floundering a little. Her emphasis is
on establishing good writing technique, not just in terms of actual
writing skills but also by fostering a strong appreciation of craft.
Whitcomb seems to have a hundred and one different ideas to offer, from
the predictable but always-effective ‘keep a journal’ to a huge
variety of different exercises to practise at all stages of writing a
novel. Throughout the section there is a strong emphasis on reading
other authors, and looking at what they’re doing. Each chapter comes
with its own eclectic list of recommended reading; the bright author will
do well to follow up on her suggestions. No writer should work in a
vacuum; Whitcomb makes this very clear. Her technical advice is also
very solid, clearly explained and well laid out on the page. The
approach is inevitably broad-brush, but when you’re trying to write your
first novel, it really is not the right moment to start wrestling with the
finer complexities of grammatical usage. That can come later.
What makes this book especially useful is that the
other author, Ann Rittenberg, is an agent; in fact, she is Laura
Whitcomb’s agent. Her section of the book concerns the business of
finding an agent and getting a novel sold to a publisher. There are
probably fewer books about this end of the business but those I’ve seen
mainly seem to assume that there is a perfectly straightforward linear
progression from completing a novel to handing it over to an agent who
then sells it. Easy, really. If only. There are as many mistakes to be
made in attempting to find an agent or to approach a publisher as there
are in writing a novel in the first place. Rittenberg goes over the
basics of what happens once you’ve written your novel and you have to
start hawking it around. Her approach is refreshingly honest. She explains
what succeeds, what doesn’t, and how things work from the agent’s point of
view. I particularly liked the section on writing letters to agents and
publishers, and the mistakes people so often make, because, yes, I have
seen such letters myself. Her advice on what to do is spot on and
should be required reading for everyone submitting work.
Your First Novel is an excellent tutorial
and reference source for anyone who wants to become more than a weekend
scribbler. Working through the chapters, carrying out the exercises,
following up on the references provided, will give the budding author a
very thorough understanding of what’s involved in writing a novel and
getting it into the bookshops. The advice is clear and unambiguous, the
tone supportive, but as both authors make clear, in the end it’s up to
you. However, with a book like this on your desk, you stand a much
better chance of succeeding.
