Hannah M. Clipston

This morning I woke with a question in my thoughts, pointed towards the novel I have been working on. The question highlighted a plot hole in the timeline of the story that I hadn’t considered before. The hole was strikingly obvious. A reader could plausibly notice it right away. I hadn’t. I began to unravel the tangle in my mind, wondering how I could make edits, wondering how I could have missed it before. Of course I had to question how making an edit at this point would effect how I edit the rest of the manuscript. With some luck, the more I worked to untangle the plot hole, the more potential the story seemed to have. To become more collected and to have greater realism. By the end of my notes I was refreshed with motivation and excited to continue writing.

Writing my first novel has been full of lessons I wasn’t anticipating. I’ve known for a long time that it is something I want to achieve, and I’m grateful that the process hasn’t deterred me from the dream. In fact, throughout all the frustration and learning curves, I’ve found it a very beautiful process. When this idea first came to light I planned to turn it into a short story, which then evolved to a novella, which then evolved to a novel that is still growing. The idea has surpassed what I first conceived it to be. I could say that writing a novel has been like planting a seed, expecting to have an orchid, and instead having nurtured and grown an orange tree.

Throughout the process of writing I have done enough internet surfing to curate my social media algorithms into a minefield of writing advice. The Instagram reels and carrousels are relentless. Sometimes encouraging. Sometimes conflicted. I see clear lines between what works for me and what works for other writers. After years of taking on writing advice I can honestly say that you won’t discover what works for you until you try. All the writing advice I have consumed wasn’t enough to prepare me for what would happen. As I said, I couldn’t conceive what this story would become when I first had the idea, even when the idea seemed to hit me completely. It was only a seed. It has grown like a lifetime in a series of unexpected events.

Recently I wrote on my blog about embracing a slower life (Bread of Angels, Patti Smith. And leaning in to a slow life.) which extends to my writing. At the same time I’ve seen authors share timelines, for example, on how to finish a novel within a few months. Of course I’m not suggesting there’s anything wrong with setting a goal like this. For some the structured approach is motivating. Only that it makes me laugh because I have had to admit to myself that my process is slow. First I thought I would have been finished two years ago, then last year, now this year, slipping through my fingers, nearly half gone. I’m fortunate enough that I’m not under contractual pressure. It’s not often that I’ve had to write to a deadline. I am in my third year with the same novel, and thanks to this morning’s revelation, will likely be a lot longer.

That is also not to say that all advice is useless unless it fits your particular style. Feedback from others is invaluable to the working manuscript. Who knows what other surprises I’m yet to uncover in my own novel? Readers can find the plot holes you miss, give you their impressions of your characters, and even reveal their predictions of where the storyline will go. Were they deceived? Were they supposed to be?

Embrace your own style of working. Everyday with my novel is different. Sometimes writing is easy. Sometimes I’m pulling sentences like teeth. There’s a balance between having enough fun to put words and ideas onto a page, and being strong enough to admit another layer of storytelling needs to be applied. That’s the craft to know when a large amount of (often frustrating) work needs to happen for a story to be elevated. I’ve found that for me, it often means rewriting or changing my original ideas to benefit the story that has come to fruition. To write a novel you have to fall in love with the process of writing, however that looks to you. For that, you only have to start. That is my advice: Ignore any doubts in your mind about having the best idea, having the skillset to make it to the end, having the time to finish or being altogether ready. You only have to be ready to learn.

Anyway, if you’re a writer I stand shoulder to shoulder with you on your current work, whatever it may be. And I implore you to keep doing what you love. Or if you are a writer waiting for the right moment to begin. Stop waiting. The right time is always now.

Now, there’s a manuscript that’s calling my name…