How to Write Killer Prose (12)

Rescuing your novel

We've all been there. You're thousands of words in, maybe tens of thousands, and the dream turns monstrous. The novel that was going to change your life sits there on your desktop, resentful and sulking. The thing's not working, but you can't put your finger on why. And so, like someone locked into a toxic affair, you circle round the problem with growing dread. And as you do so, your novel shapeshifts. It seems to be one thing, then another.

When writers say they're blocked, I suspect it's usually to do with a specific piece of work. And - still guessing - probably a fictional work. Fiction has no rules, no boundaries, no responsibility to fact or truth. It's essentially incoherent. So the moment you let it, it'll go cloudy on you. The idea that you thought was so solid, cluster-bombs into an infinity of particles. It's not just that you don't know how to fix it, you don't know how to approach fixing it.

So here's what you do. I'm not going to hit you with any of that that positivity bullshit, because you're probably not beautiful or brave, you're probably an opportunistic, near-feral word-weasel like me. I'm not going to tell you to believe in yourself, because that's straight-up terrible advice (no one sane believes in themself, and those that do bequeath the world books like Mein Kampf). And I'm not going to tell you to trust the universe. Because seriously, why the fuck would I? We're grown-ups, aren't we? Just do this. Exactly this.