After finishing the final draft of the novel in its entirety, I left it alone for as long as patience would allow (not very long), then spent a few days re-reading and contemplating the opening chapters only.
I wanted to check that the main characters arrived early enough and that their missions were either already in motion, or about to begin. These missions needed to be clear, but not too spelled-out, in order to retain plenty of intrigue.
Although it is tempting to use the first couple of chapters to set the scene, maybe establish the characters in detail, introduce the minor players or delve into backstory, it is important not to tiptoe around the edges of the ‘action’.
A few years ago, during early drafts of my first novel, I made the mistake of skulking: a vital road trip—the core of the story—didn’t actually begin until a third of the way through. My characters spent the first few chapters on a ‘dummy run’ to a much closer destination before returning to get ready for the ‘real thing’. In the misguided belief that I was keeping the reader in excited suspense, I was holding up the action and skirting around the heart of the book, rather than making it beat.
Fear of running aground can make it daunting to set sail. To stay safe, it is tempting to prevaricate by filling in fine details, adding descriptions and introducing strands which won't connect to the main plot until later. To avoid this, it can be helpful to make a plan.
My plan for Instructions for the Working Day took time, but made the writing process more straightforward and enjoyable. By the time I had finished the plan, I understood my characters and why they had a story to tell.
I also knew how each chapter would work, scene by scene, which gave me confidence and, as a result, the ability to concentrate. This meant I could make progress every time I sat down to write. Not only that, but I could look forward to writing and not fear it.
These plans were not straitjackets. As with any plan, a degree of flexibility was required. An outline can collapse once the narrative is underway and the characters are developing by themselves. They might discover a more scenic route which takes you, the writer, to unfamiliar places. If this turns out to be a mistake, you could revert to your original plan. Or you could change course again and discover the new ‘right’ way ahead. But having the plan gives you a reference point, a safe haven. And when you return to it, this time you will have your characters with you. They are now a force to be reckoned with and instrumental in reconsidering the route.
Whether you work from a loose plan, a tight plan, or no plan at all, it is still useful to re-read your novel’s opening and check that you haven’t lingered too long in the harbour. Let your characters set sail.
A final tip: it was helpful to view the two documents—‘Plan’ and ‘Actual Novel’—side by side on my screen. There was something encouraging about the Plan being right there. I struck through each scene after I’d written it, which felt insanely rewarding and gave a sense of progress.
[Ship drawing from tutorial by Circle Line Art School]