On September 29, I started my new literary horror novel, The Dance of Rotten Sticks. By October 29, I had over 50,000 words. A few days later, I finished the first draft which came in at just over 56,000 words. I'm currently in the process of rewriting the second draft.
This is the second novel I wrote this year. In the spring, when quarantine first began, I wrote a futuristic/dystopian novel entitled Falling Sky.
I wrote the first 50k-word draft in three and a half weeks.
I guess I feel I've learned a few things about writing a draft of a novel in a short time.
Sometimes I think a sticking point for writers can be making the transition from one chapter to the next. At times I believe we can think too linearly when it comes to moving events along in our books.
I don't think this is at all unique to my writing, but I've found it can be helpful to start the next chapter by jumping forward in time and then having the character reflect back on what just happened.
This can be helpful for handling difficult scenes. Or, it can be helpful for handling some mundane passage of time... scenes that you don't want to write in real time because they might be long and boring, but certain little moments within are necessary for the reader to know.
Let me offer an example. I have a scene in my new novel (an important moment) when the main character's daughter suddenly begins her period while they are at their vacation property on an island. It's an important moment, but if I handled it in real time, I'd have to write about not only her fearful reaction to what was happening to her, but also how eventually they'd have to calm her down, help clean her up, etc.
And, plot-wise, the only truly important thing the reader needs to know is that she started her period. (It's tied in to paranormal elements in the story's plot).
So, here's how I handled it. I'm including the ending of the chapter that came before so you can see how they play off of each other:
End of Chapter 14...
In the kitchen, he poured some of the batter he’d made into a smaller measuring cup. He sprinkled in chocolate chips and used a spoon to stir them through. Watching a stream of chip-speckled batter expand into a circle on the skillet, he heard Emily screaming.
“Dad! Grandma!” Ashely shouted, her voice frantic. “Come here quick. Don’t let Carson come in!”
Chapter 15
Isaac crouched on the beach next to the jagged base of the flagpole. The majority of the pole was lying on the ground pointing in the direction of Evelyn’s house. He could see where a ring of rust had been eating away at the metal for years. Previous owners had handled the problem by spraying the corroded part with a rust-blocking paint that matched the color of the pole. He could see layers of applications. It was a temporary solution at best and, even with no flag as added drag, the gale-force winds were too much for the oxidized metal. He was surprised they hadn’t heard it come down in the night.
Isaac stood up. The wind whipped his hair around his face. Waves hitting the shore came up some three or four feet onto the beach. The beach box was tipped on its side and emptied. Hands on his hips, looking out at the volatile lake, Isaac turned back over his shoulder and checked on Carson. He was lying on his stomach with a Lego figure in each hand. He was smiling.
Isaac turned back toward the water. What a morning it had been. Helen had beaten him to the girls’ room by a few paces. When he’d come through the door frame, he saw Emily sitting cross-legged on her bed in a pooling stain of blood. The blood-speckled underside of the comforter was kicked down near the foot of the bed. Her little underwear and pajamas were soaked. She wailed and would not be consoled and claimed with certainty, when her words could be understood, that she was dying. Sitting on either side of her, Helen and Ashley kept repeating that this is what they’d talked about, that it was natural. Helen pulled the comforter back up over Emily’s lap.
Isaac stood in the doorway feeling useless.
“I want Mom! I want Mom!” Emily kept screaming.
As they slowly calmed her hysteria, Isaac slipped out to the kitchen and came back with the phone. “Here,” he’d said, extending the present to Emily. “It’s your birthday present, honey. I really think you’re going to like it.”
Still sniffling and with tears running down her cheeks, Emily unwrapped the gift. Her little trembling fingers worked meticulously at the scotch tape. She always tried to save the wrapping paper, a habit she’d picked up from Gwen.
“Just rip it open, honey,” Isaac said.
The sight of the phone brought something close to a smile on her face.
“And your sister got you a great case you can open later.” At a mall kiosk he’d found the perfect case decorated in flying butterflies. “You’re going to love it.”
While Ashley helped Emily plug the phone into its charger, Helen went to the bathroom to draw a bath. “Just a bad dream,” Isaac heard her say when Carson asked to know what was wrong.
“This is the newest iPhone, Em,” Ashley said. “A friend of mine has it, and it takes really great pictures. I can show you later.”
Emily turned the phone over in her grip. “Ok,” she said.
Helen had come back into the room and set her hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “We’ll get her all cleaned up. Take Carson outside, though. He’s getting really antsy,” she had said.
“You’re tall,” Carson said behind him.
Isaac blinked. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing staring at the lake, recalling the eventful morning.“What, bud—” He started to turn and then jumped with his hand over his heart. “Jesus Christ!” A man was standing ten feet from him with an American flag folded reverently in his grip. Isaac bent over with his hands on his knees. “Holy shit.”
“I apologize if I startled you,” he said in a flat baritone voice. “We have not met officially. I’m Silas.”
Isaac stood up and extended his hand. He paused for a moment taking in Silas’ amber eyes set in stark relief against his sallow face and long, gray hair. He looked to be flat-headed, his skull seemingly more a square than an oval. “Not your fault. I was standing here daydreaming like an idiot. I’m Isaac.” He guessed that the man was in his mid-fifties.
This jump forward/look back beginning to the chapter allowed me to do two things. One, it jumps in at an important moment... the discovery of the downed flagpole (it's an important moment to the plot)
But, it also let me summarize what happened with Emily versus having to write out the whole scene. My guess is that it probably took fifteen minutes to truly calm her down, and I didn't want to write that out in real time. This method allowed me to summarize the events through Isaac's reflecting on them.
So, the method is moving my novel into important new territory (flagpole and Silas) while allowing me to gloss over mundane moments associated with Emily's sudden period.
I think the method can be quite pleasing for the reader too. It ends the previous chapter on an exciting, mystery note... and then disorients the reader to this beach scene, which soon after ties everything together as Isaac reflects on the events of the past hour.
Well, I hope that approach gives you something to think about as you work on your own novel.
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