I started really thinking about writing my first novel nearly three years ago. Let me just say that it has been a long and winding road since then! When I first came up with the idea, I focused on the commercial nature of the story, if it could sell, if it was “poppy” or what have you. I immediately began to conceive of a trilogy, because I heard that agents and publishers like to see that kind of thing. In short, I focused on the exterior of the novel, the flash and bang of the thing, and not so much the inspiration and underlying interest and drive of the characters and story. Later on as I began the process of outlining the novel, I wrestled with these deeper more meaningful aspects. But it would take weeks, months, even years spent hashing and rehashing the outline and the general form of the novel, not to mention eventually writing over 50,000 words over a span of years, until I finally came to a dead zone, a major stand still where I couldn’t proceed anymore. I knew it wasn’t working, that the life of this story wasn’t my own. In truth it just wasn’t something I was interested in but rather something that I had conjured up to try and sell copies and make a name for myself or what have you. Trust me I tried to keep going. I willed my way on as far as I could go, but my creativity, my very being even was just not with the piece, and frankly probably never was to begin with.
I don’t think the writing was bad, at least in parts, and I think that if I was actually genuinely passionate about the idea and the larger themes of the piece, I could definitely finish it and feel great about it. But alas that just wasn’t the case. So for many more months, it was just as difficult to unwind myself from the project as it was to build it up as far as I had. As I write about this now, I am reminded of Buddhist monks intensely laboring over an intricate, multi-colored sand mandala only to in the end destroy it, gather it up, and dump it into a river as a blessing for all the world. This devotion to both careful, close-tolerant artistry alongside immediate detachment and complete destruction is even more poignant and meaningful to me as I think back upon my own journey with my first novel. If you’re interested, I found a short video from a documentary by Werner Herzog on YouTube showing the Dalai Lama and other Buddhist monks perform this ritual. You can view it here.
But unlike this Buddhist practice, I did not destroy the tens of thousands of words and myriads of documents I had written over the past 3 years. They are still here, available and waiting for me, if I ever so choose to return to this story and these characters. And perhaps I will, I truly don’t know. But I do know that right now returning to this work is extremely – and I mean extremely – unlikely. Perhaps later on, in a new and rejuvenated version I just may resurrect this story and character. I mean anything is possible, and Lord knows I sure put a lot into it! Thankfully I have many ideas that I want to pursue and write about, so praise to the muses I am not bereft of things to write at the moment. I suppose you could say that I got my “sea legs” with this whole experience. I absolutely learned a great deal about the long and patient process that is novel writing as well as my own peculiar tendencies and habits as a writer of longer fiction.
Personally I have written an extensive amount of poetry and studied with a number of renowned poets today. I have written short stories as well as numerous essays. But writing a novel is without a doubt the most challenging task I believe I have ever attempted. For one it simply requires so much brute force and sheer will power just to get all the words down on the page, let alone interweave meaning and depth and continuity among those words. And we haven’t even talked about crafting those words in creative, powerful, poetic ways. It is truly a force to be reckoned with. Time, endurance, and the unknown are probably the greatest enemies a novelist must confront on a daily basis I would say. And yet interestingly they are also a big part of what makes novels so incredible to write and to read. Perhaps a long, slow, and steady simmer is also what makes for a good novel. It reminds me of how my Italian grandmother would make meatballs and her own pasta sauce. Basically it took all day, but in the end that very process of giving it time is exactly what makes her sauce and her meatballs so unbelievably good. The same is true with novel writing I am finding.
What became so thoroughly apparent to me after letting go of this first novel was just how vital and absolutely critical it is that I am extremely passionate, thrilled, and excited about whatever and whomever I am writing in my novel. I am now convinced this love is paramount, because the process of writing a novel is just so strenuous and requires so much time and dedication and perhaps even obsession that you really must love and be captivated by the material so much that you are able to continue on when things are difficult, and it seems that more than not things are difficult when writing a novel. The love and fascination that you have for your characters, your landscape, the themes you are writing about can all go a very far way in weathering the storms and confusions and desperations that surely come along this journey. It can also be what engages you as you write the story, and by extension then, your readers can, hopefully at least, catch that love and fascination and thereby also be engaged and interested in what they are reading. Love then becomes a contagion of sorts, hopefully an epidemic! I have even found that this love can get somehow instilled into the words, rhythms, and lines written at some deeper, psychic level on the page. This radiance can be engraved upon the words and resurrect itself yet again whenever anyone reads them. And truth be told, I have this very experience with writers and texts that I have read and often re-read over and over again through the years. Their love and wisdom have mysteriously been sealed within the words on the page, ensconced for all of humanity to unearth even thousands of years later. Like mummies wrapped in fine linen cloth or summer berries squished into jam, canned for the winter, our words can preserve our love and insight, the wealth of our experience, for another time, another season, and for peoples yet to come.
Sacrifice is an unbelievably powerful force for humans. But it is as if we are built to resist it, to hate it even. And yet it is also as if the universe and world all around is designed to force it upon us almost constantly, and for our own greater development and growth. What lives on from day to day, year to year, even eternally for any of us? All things seem to weather and fade or disappear completely. There is very little, very precious little, that remains forever. In the brief time we are exposed to this world, harboring these senses, it is wise to express ourselves. And when we express, it is even wiser to share that which we feel deeply, truly, and perhaps even obsessively.
Almost immediately upon sacrificing my first novel, my second novel rose before me, beckoning me. It was always there, available for me to explore and unravel, but now I was available too. Just over four years ago I took a writing class at UCLA. During an exercise in that class, I wrote about a scene that came to me spontaneously in the moment. And for four years I have looked upon that scene, and at one point I even added some pages to it, but ultimately I let it lie on the shelf for another day. Well around three months ago, after I had finally sacrificed my first project, this old scene and the characters in it, which was all written in about 15 minutes during a class exercise, became my new focus, my new project.
This second novel is progressing in ways I never experienced with my first novel. Everything seems to be different. My style of outlining is actually less specific. I know the major events that I want to occur, but I genuinely don’t know how or when they come about between my characters. And honestly I love that! It is making the process exciting for me! Each day I love sitting down to write and to see what will happen next, and I am continually amazed and surprised with what emerges too. Then I enjoy thinking about the story and what will happen next tomorrow when I return to it. Now I’ll also admit that not knowing what exactly will happen next can also be a source of anxiety and worry for me too. But more than anything it requires a perception shift on my part. I have the larger outline, the larger trend and direction of the novel and the characters. So I have a map, and now it’s time to decide just exactly which roads and highway and byways I want to take to get to my various destinations. That’s exciting! That’s fun! That’s a real adventure!
While writing a novel I have another world alive and turning, swirling around within me all while I am living here and now in this world. It is a liberating and freeing and exhilarating experience to say the least. Not only this but the progress and pace of my production is greatly improved compared to my first novel. Remember I worked on my first novel for three years – three years! And I got 50,000 words out of it. Now, after only a few months, I have written over 25,000 words and am writing regularly every day, adding more and more to the project. And I love what I am writing! I love the characters! I am amused and intrigued and satisfied with the larger messages and themes that seem to be presenting themselves in the story. It is genuinely fun and enjoyable to write this novel, and it is moving along nicely. To me my love of the story and the characters is directly related to my productivity on the novel. It is a vital key, and praise be to God it only continues!
Now I realize I am not a famous writer or even a professional writer at that. I haven’t even completed one full length novel (yet)! And even still here I am writing about my experiences and sharing what I am learning as I go through this process. Of course in part this blog is for myself. It supports me in discovering and excavating what is alive within me as well as supports me in propelling forward and continuing on with my various writing projects. There are many writers in the world today, and there are even more writers writing about writing today. Rather often I read what they have to say, and it is interesting what I find. Their posts have lists and number away the various aspects of writing and what you need to do to finish you novel in three months or how to write a strong opening line to hook that reader. In many respects there is lots of good advice out there. And of course to an extent I do this too. But recently I was listening to a famous novelist named Arundhati Roy speak about the second novel she has written in literally twenty years. That’s a long time between novels, and I greatly respect her for that. In this video she speaks about the state of writing today and how most people view writing and the process of writing. If you are interested, a link to the full interview can be found here.
I feel like writers are somehow being made into products you know? Where everything is easy and you have this beautifully integrated product, it sits on the shelf somewhere, you know the story, you know the subject and so on. But this [her latest novel] was to me to challenge how you tell a story.
I appreciated hearing this from Arundhati Roy, because I could relate to it very much. In a word, she described my first novel and the way I was approaching it. She validated my experience and gave me another reference point for myself, what I have learned, and where I am going now. I am not sure if my current novel is “challeng[ing] how you tell a story” as Roy puts it, but I do know that it has absolutely redefined how I write and approach a story. When my novel is complete it may just be like every other novel out in the world, and that for me is totally fine. I am not trying to necessarily re-write the novel here. But I do know that I have revolutionized how I write novels. I am learning my way as I go. It is a long and winding journey to be sure. But now that I love what I am doing, I love the trip. And I can only hope that when it is all said and done, and I have gone through all the various stages, whatever they may be, in order to complete this novel, I can echo the lyrics of The Grateful Dead when they sing their hit song Trucking – What a long strange trip it’s been! – because truth be told, I’m already excited for the next one after this!
Thanks for this, Mario. You make just the point I needed to hear. Well writen too.
Thank you! 😀