Fiction focus: Rediscover your abandoned manuscripts

WHAT’S UNDER YOUR BED?

Rediscover your abandoned manuscripts and dust them off so you can send them out into the world, with advice from Margaret James

Before electric typewriters, let alone Amstrads and Sinclair Spectrums, came into our lives, many authors wrote the first, second or even third drafts of their novels in longhand.

They typed whatever they wanted to submit to literary agents or publishers on clacking manual typewriters. They sent off the top copies, keeping their original, handwritten drafts and carbons in cupboards, filing cabinets or boxes under their beds, where rejected or unfinished work also came to rest.

These days, most of us are more likely to keep our work in digital files. Almost everything we write is submitted by email. But, even though the technical aspects of writing fiction have advanced into the 21st century, I’ m betting plenty of readers of this magazine still have files and folders full of work which has never seen the light of publication day.

What about you?

Maybe you ’ re hoarding one, two or even more novels that stalled before you managed to complete even a first draft? Some short stories you knew how to begin, but not how to finish? A magazine serial that had an intriguing set-up and a perfect opening episode, but then went nowhere? A folder of research notes for a novel you might write one day, but haven ’ t got round to writing yet, and secretly wonder if you ever will?

How could you get the material that ’ s gathering literal or metaphorical dust to work for you, instead of just lazing around in files you haven ’ t opened for months or even years?

You ’ll have heard of elevator pitches, shout lines, log lines, or whatever you want to call them. All these terms amount to more or less the same thing: they ’ re short summaries of what a work in question is actually about.

The link below focuses on writing for the screen, but its advice applies to all other forms of creative writing, too: https://writ.rs/logline

Now look at the long-neglected work you ’ ve just opened and think about writing an elevator pitch. Once you ’ ve done that, you ’ll be able to define this work: to explain it to yourself (and also to anyone else) in a matter of moments.

So, for example: • Whose story are you telling? • Jane Rutherford’ s. • What does Jane want? • To become a champion jockey and win the Grand National. • Who or what might stop Jane getting what she wants and thus introduce a conflict? • A jealous rival who is also Jane ’ s workmate, partner, boyfriend, girlfriend, fiancé, fiancée? A serious injury? A change of heart?

Here ’ s a potential pitch:

When a famous racehorse owner offers orphaned Jane Rutherford (the protagonist) an apprenticeship in his yard (the inciting or triggering incident), she ’ s able to exercise some of the owner ’ s thoroughbreds (the action). Soon, she ’ s dreaming of becoming a champion jockey (the protagonist’ s motivation). Jane ’ s boyfriend Luke Wheeler (the antagonist) has the same ambition, but he hides it well (the conflict).

Still looking at the file you ’ ve recently opened, ask yourself: does your story start in the right place? Does it ask or at least suggest a question? Or, better still, suggest a conflict?

Does it tell readers something they ’ll need to know straight away?

Or do you spend ages setting the scene in detail? You probably don ’ t have to do that. Just tell readers what they absolutely must know in order to be enticed into your story.

Then ask yourself when these readers need to know it. Now? Later? Not at all?

Look at the openings of other people ’ s published work, then maybe find your marker pen, and highlight what they tell their readers in these all-important first pages.

Your central character: Is this the person (or ghost, or rabbit, or vampire) whose story you actually want to tell? Or is it really someone else ’ s story? It ’ s sometimes hard to decide. What if your novel were to be made into a film: which character would be the most prominent on the posters outside the cinema? It ’ s likely to be this same character ’ s story.

The genre: Are you writing horror fiction that ’ s not particularly horrific? Or romantic fiction that ’ s not especially romantic? Or mystery fiction in which there ’ s no compelling mystery? Successful authors writing in these genres will show you the way.

But also bear in mind that genre-blending isn ’ t always a crime, so don ’ t feel you can ’ t write a romantic thriller or a supernatural mystery. Some bestselling novels – for example, Stacey Halls ’ Mrs England – are very hard to pigeonhole. Mrs England has been described as a gripping feminist mystery… full of gothic menace and much more beside. Stacey talked about Mrs England in her WM star interview in the August 2021 issue.

Perhaps, even after spending ages working on various openings, you still don ’ t know if your story is worth telling, and that ’ s one of the reasons you abandoned it?

So maybe forget about the beginning and think about the ending: could you write the ending? Then make your way back towards a suitable opening? Some authors, especially writers of short stories, do this. It ’ s a strategy that might work for you, too.

At the beginning of this article I talked about writing in longhand and then typing up work on a manual typewriter, but this is in no way a criticism of my fellow authors. I know several writers who do it this this way. So, if it also works for you, go for it.

NOW TRY THIS

Some very famous novelists have died leaving behind stories they didn ’ t have the time, inclination or desire to see in print, and which other people finished for them: for example, Jane Austen ’ s Sanditon and Charles Dickens ’ The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

But why wait for someone else to complete what you started? Some of your own apparently redundant work might yet turn out to be money in the bank for its originator – you.

When and where did your journey as an author begin?

As soon as I could hold a pen and in my childhood home, where mental illness and alcoholism meant writing stories was my refuge. But it took many years – and four novels – before I finally got my first book deal at the age of 44.

What is (or has been) your proudest moment as a writer?

It was finishing my memoir Daffodils which was published in audiobook in April. I’d always wanted to write about my difficult early start in life. When my mother jumped off the Humber Bridge in 2019, this compelled me to begin. I completed Daffodils during lockdown, which was extra hard, but very empowering.

Who or what is your greatest inspiration?

Life, really. I soak up everything that happens around me like a human sponge: conversations, music, a word that intrigues me, my own memories and experiences. I also enjoy a challenge. If an idea I share has people telling me they ’ re not sure if I could or should write that, I’ll know it ’ s the one to start.

What is your latest novel about and what will be coming up next for you, fiction-wise?

Nothing Else was released earlier this year and is about a professional pianist whose sister went missing when they were small. To escape the violence in their childhood home, they created a song together on a piano won in a raffle. Now, Heather longs to find her sister so that they can play music together again.

Also look out also for a dystopian novel – a complete change for me – to be published in 2023.

What are your top tips for writers still on the journey towards publication?

Most importantly, never give up. If I’d stopped at book one, two, three or four, I’d never have been published. But don ’ t rush, especially when it comes to sending out your work. Don ’ t send off your first draft. It won ’ t be ready. Let it breathe. Go back and edit. Do that again. And again. Get some friends to read it and give you feedback. Edit again. And again. And maybe, just maybe, by then it will be ready to share.