Horror Reanimated… the home of Bloody Books

Bill and Joseph’s series on novel writing Part III: Structure

January 22nd, 2009

Joseph D’Lacey – I want to talk about two kinds of structure today, Bill. The structure of the novel and the structure of a horror writer’s (or any writer’s) working day. Let’s start with the bones holding up the novel first. How do you prepare an outline? Or perhaps I should ask: DO you prepare and outline?

Bill Hussey – I do prepare an outline. The outline helps me in the same way research lends a hand: it gives me the confidence to start writing. I think there comes a point when you’ve had the idea, you’ve done some research, you’ve accumulated other bits and pieces and all that stuff reaches a critical mass. You know instinctively when that happens and I find that only then is it the point at which I should start the story. The outline is part of that. I usually prepare what I call a skeleton outline before I start – maybe 6 typed pages. It’s all pure STORY. Story in the form that kids tell stories: this happens, then this, then this. Makes a tedious read! But I must stress this is a pretty bare outline – lots of gaps – and I never treat it as a sacred text.

JD’L – This is interesting, Bill – you’re still using the analogy of a skeleton, a bone structure upon which to lay flesh. Aside from the obvious and corny horror angle on this, it says to me that regardless of the need for structure, novel writing is still an organic process – a process of GROWTH. It seems that you’re saying you would never start a novel without this template existing first and that, for the template to exist, ideas and research have to come first. Is this your strict policy or do you sometimes deviate (I’m not talking about wearing pantyhose, here, Bill)?

Another thing that strikes me about your approach is that it resembles the ‘treatment’ screen writers use when working up a script – a pure story document, as you say. A map that lets you know exactly where you’re going and how to get there. For a lot of writers this kind of certainty, this kind of confidence would be a prerequisite before setting off on the novel’s journey. Is that right? (‘scuse, my pre-satnav metaphors!)

BH – I do deviate in the pantyhose sense, thanks for pointing that out, Joseph. So far, I haven’t deviated from the idea, research, structure format. I don’t say I would never deviate from that, it’s just that I find these things help me out on what is the difficult and labour-intensive exercise of writing a full-length work of fiction. I attribute these things to the fact that I’ve never had writer’s block (yet!) or got stuck mid-story. That said, my fleshless skeleton is not a treatment as such. I ALWAYS deviate from it. If a better idea comes along I’ll just tear up that part of the outline. Most importantly – and I must stress this – if my CHARACTERS decide they won’t do what the outline tells them, I will always go with what they say.

Characters are the gods of story, so even in a ‘plotted’ novel their voice must come first. A lot of ‘literary’ writers (those who think ‘plot’ is a dirty word) balk at the idea of any form of planning when it comes to novels, but I think that if you just use the outline as a trellis frame and let your story grow around it however it wants then that’s fine. How’s that for a metaphor! Anyway, in summary, an outline helps to get you started but only refer to it now and then – the bones of the story should be in your head anyway – and always be prepared to ditch bits of it – or the whole damn thing if your characters say so. But I know you have a different approach, Joseph.

JD’L – I’m an intensely haphazard and unfocussed individual – if such a thing is possible. I write on steam-power, somehow. If the boiler is stoked with the fuel of ideas, worlds, characters, questions and passion then the engine runs. And, seeing as we’re slipping into the use of metaphors as well as ladies’ underwear, I suspect I sometimes use this power to steamroll my way through obstacles in plot and story. It’s brutish. It’s unrefined and here’s the important thing; it DOESN’T always work.

For every two novels I’ve completed, I have one unfinished. This is untidy and I hate it. Maybe if I did more preparation, I’d have fewer blocks in the way of my progress. Interestingly, I’ve been unable to have any kind of writing day for the last six or seven months and so ideas that I might have just set off on have been held on the back burner. Information and material for those ideas has begun to pile up. This may mean that, by default, I’ll be writing my next novel in much the same way you do, Bill. If it works I’ll buy you a half in the pub of your choice.

BH – The thing is, I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to go about writing a novel. Those writers that tell you that their formula is the only one (usually arty types who finish a book every decade) are talking bollocks. For me, I like to have a flimsy structure but I would equally hate to over-plot – i.e. index cards on a peg board with bits of coloured string pinned between them. That kind of prep would take all the joy out of writing. But I know it works for some people who still write wonderfully inventive books in that way. I know we’re trying to pass on a bit of advice here but, like so much of writing, whatever works for you is how to do it. If you finish a book with no plotting at all – great! If you still get a thrill out of following an in-depth structure and finish – great again! But here’s the crucial thing: outline or no outline, research or no research – FINISH the book. If you’ve written 20 books but never finished one, you’re not a writer I’m afraid.

JD’L – Yes, I couldn’t agree with you more. You must finish (even me!). And also, for everyone reading this, Bill and I are very aware that we don’t have any special secrets to share with you about how we write. All we can do is tell you what we DO and how we THINK we achieve it.

I’ll tell you how I wrote MEAT. I went to work six or seven days a week. When I got there I wrote about the character/characters I felt in tune with that day. This meant I wrote at least six story strands in separate documents. When I’d finished each of those stories to the fullest, when I was happy with each outcome, I then began a new document and pasted the stories in so they were woven together. When this document was complete, I found natural breaks in the resulting narrative and put my chapter ends in. For once, I did not add ‘parts’ or anything extra. Is that a good way to write a novel? God knows. But it worked for me. (I promise to try really hard and finish all my unfinished novels, by the way, Bill. Honest.)

BH – Good man! It’s interesting, hearing how you put MEAT together. I think, in fact, all writers DO use an outline because that’s essentially what the FIRST draft of a novel is. We’ll get onto redrafting/editing later, but the first draft is really little more than a big messy outline of what your novel is going to be. You’ve hammered it out (my advice is not to go back and edit/check too much while you’re writing the first draft) and now you can actually begin writing the novel properly.

JD’L – That’s right. My first draft is a ‘brain dump’ session that goes on for between three and five months. No going back to fix things in mid flow. Bury the ugly creature for another two or three months and then the crafting begins at the time of disinterment. So what about the second structure, Bill? A writer’s working day. How do you go about it?

BH – It entirely depends on the time I have. Those blessed days when I can devote all my time to writing generally pan out like this: I get up reasonably early, chow down some cereal flakes then go for a brisk trot along the beach. We’ve got a great nature reserve up here and the sea air clears the old grey matter. I always take a pen and notebook as that’s when I get an idea that almost always breaks down bits of that skeleton outline. That generally takes half an hour. Then I get back – cup of tea – answer some emails/letters – then I start to write. I hope to finish about 1000 words before lunch, then another 500/1000 after lunch. If I haven’t finished at least 1500 I stay at the desk until it’s done. For me, I need that kind of discipline to get a book finished. I might do a lot more than 1500 but never less. If I can’t devote a whole day, I’ll work in the evening and have been known to write in the early hours. Great time to write, 2am, no distractions. What about you, Joseph?

JD’L – Rules are: Always write 1000 words before quitting. Write either six or seven days a week until the first draft is complete. Write in the morning if at all possible – that’s my best time. I write in an office away from home so that my body and mind recognise I’ve ‘gone to work’. If I have longer time available and finish my 1000 words swiftly, I continue to do more ‘stints’ until I’m too tired to continue. So, bad day = 1003 words which took two or three hours to write. Good day = 2500-6000 words in somewhere between 2-7 hours (days like this are rare, however). I try not to drink too much the night before a writing day because I can’t concentrate worth a shit when I’m hungover – although I often have great ideas the morning after. I try very hard to not be ‘online’ when I’m meant to be writing. That’s it. Most of my life is characterised by an utter lack of rules, enthusiasm, structure and energy but writing is sacred – there have to be rules. That’s it.

BH – I think a word target per day is crucial. Try to make it achievable but be ambitious. Honestly, 250 words a day – the target of a guy I was on the MA in Writing with – is not enough. You can’t get into a scene or into a character’s head at that level. You need an investment of TIME (I’ve always thought time is the greatest gift for a writer) and I think everyone can manage at least two hours. Sarah Pinborough told me she’d get up two hours before work and write, then, after a full day’s work, she’d write in the evenings. More or less every day. You want to write and earn money – you need to set aside that kind of time. Exhausting, but worth it.

JD’L – Absolutely, Bill. It’s all about commitment. 250 words is a poem, for God’s sake. Time and effort and regularity and stickability write books. Nothing else.

Well, I think that covers the two kinds of structure which underpin novel writing. In part 4 we’re going to take a look at a more esoteric topic: Theme.

Entry Filed under: Writing Chat