I’ve been writing fiction for my entire life. I was hooked at about five or six years old, when I first encountered The Hobbit. Ever since then, one way or another, I’ve been reading and writing fantasy, sci-fi, and horror.
In my twenties I studied writing at university and wound up with a master’s degree in professional writing. Yes, that makes me a fully qualified novelist, editor and screenwriter. No, I’m not sure exactly what that means.
It’s been a long time since then, and I’ve learned even more since graduating. University writing courses tend to focus on writing craft. That’s great. You need to learn at least the fundamentals of craft in order to be a novelist or screenwriter. But in my experience, excelling at writing craft is not necessarily the most important aspect of actually being a writer.
Don’t get me wrong, craft clearly matters. But the simple act of sitting at your laptop, day after day, and getting the words down is often far more vital.
After all, you could be the most gifted writer in the world, but if you only produce a couple of pages a year, you’re never going to finish a novel. A workmanlike, consistent writer will always get there first, and likely have a better shot at a writing career, too.
Because there’s only one definition of a writer that matters. Writers write.
Taken seriously, novel writing is a solitary and time-consuming activity. It’s one of the most demanding art forms out there, requiring constant practice just to maintain your voice, let alone improve upon it.
You should take time off now and again, of course. But for every day you do, you can bet it will be that bit harder to pick up where you left off. What’s more, most people are writing around other responsibilities: day jobs, family life, health conditions, education. How on earth are you supposed to find the time, let alone the energy, to commit to writing every day?
After I graduated from university, this was something I struggled with for years. I couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to write. Not how to write well, but how to physically find the time and space to just sit down and type the words.
That’s where this fantastic book comes in: Becoming a Writer by Dorothea Brande. These days, I honestly believe most aspiring writers will benefit more from reading Brande than Vogler or Strunk. It’s the first book I would recommend to anyone who wants to take writing more seriously.
In Becoming a Writer, Brande outlines the four key difficulties many writers face: struggling to get started, inability to continue after early success, inconsistency of output, and loss of momentum partway through a project.
She has one solution for all of these problems. Developing the workmanlike mindset of a professional writer by carefully balancing the creative impulse with discipline, routine, and prioritisation.
One particular piece of advice in Becoming a Writer turned me into a better writer almost overnight. In chapter five, Brande discusses the benefits of getting up in the morning and writing before you do anything else. Don’t read the news, don’t eat breakfast, don’t get dressed. Just get up and write, before your brain has a chance to get in the way.
Like many writers, I had always considered myself something of a night owl. But I decided to give it a go. Mostly out of desperation.
It worked like a charm. Not only was I able to write more quickly in the mornings, but I was in a better mood for the rest of the day, too. Writing no longer felt like something I wanted to do that was getting delayed by other tasks. Instead, I was prioritising writing above everything else. I no longer had to feel frustrated all day, waiting for my opportunity to write.
It must be two or three years now since I took this advice from Dorothea Brande. Today, my routine is still the same. I get up at an ungodly hour in the morning, before anyone else is awake. I make a cup of tea and sit down at the table in my living room with my laptop. I open my laptop, and write for an hour and a half. When that time is up, I save my work, make a coffee, and get ready for the day ahead.
Edmund Axton 