Ever since I started putting words on paper, the idea of writing a novel has been simmering in my mind. I began my writing journey with small poems, a way to untangle my teenage emotions. At the time, I didn’t realize how much writing would mean to me; it was more about finding an escape, a safe space. I seldom shared my work with anyone, keeping it close to my heart.
And then, something magical happened—I crossed paths with my first writing mentor, Iglika Peeva. She’s not just a remarkable journalist but also a celebrated poet, novelist, and playwright. Beyond being my writing mentor, she became a guiding presence in my life, mentoring me in acting and well, life itself. Throughout my teenage years, I absorbed so much wisdom from her, something I’m eternally grateful for.
My writing Journey
Let’s talk about my writing journey. Back when I shared those initial poems with Iglika, she showed me how to refine them, how to bring out their essence. She challenged me to write more, to dig deeper. Back then, I didn’t have a solid writing routine; I’d only write when inspiration struck, craving solitude to pour out my thoughts. Dark, emotional themes were my comfort zone—a way to reach a cathartic release.
A few years into my journey with Iglika, a newfound urge compelled me to venture into prose territory. The idea of a novel popped up, like a distant star. I was sweet sixteen, enthusiastic but oh-so-inexperienced to see it through. Sure, there might be authors who’ve penned novels at that age, but I wasn’t one of them. My days were swamped with acting, ballet, and school, leaving me little time for reading. I can almost hear you saying, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” And you’re absolutely right. I could have carved out the time, dove into books, but I was young and full of excuses.
First attempt at writing a novel
The novel I started then had no defined plot—just a premise and a handful of characters. I sat down and churned out 80 pages of what now seems like a backstory in search of a tale. Looking back, it wasn’t exactly novel-worthy, but it laid a foundation for the premise. For two weeks straight, I wrote with fervour, pouring myself into the story. Then, as winter break came to an end, so did my connection with the novel. My mistakes were plentiful—I failed to jot down ideas, create an outline, or set a writing routine. The spark just fizzled out.
My second novel attempt
After that, I didn’t take another shot at a novel until COVID-19 granted me some extra free time. I made it a goal to reconnect with writing, to make it a consistent part of my life. I revisited Iglika’s teachings and started mentoring myself. I also delved into books and blogs about writing, sparking an idea for a thriller that had been lurking in my mind. I committed to the journey, writing almost every day. I even tried to follow the method outlined in the book “Finish Your Novel in 90 Days,” but alas, it didn’t quite click for me.
I found myself drowning in questions about my characters, the story’s mechanics, and getting lost in research, backstory, and problem-solving before even writing a word. My writing sessions turned into editing or researching sessions, leading to slow progress. Eventually, my passion for the story dwindled, and I decided to shelve it. I believed I needed more practice, more prose-writing experience, before attempting another novel.
Shift in my approach
Over the next two years, I shifted my focus to my blogs and my non-fiction book, the “Puppy Handbook.” This phase brought its own set of challenges. Writing in a non-native language, facing deadlines head-on, and treating writing with newfound seriousness—boy, was it a ride. And guess what? My reading habits flourished. My goals of reading a book a week, which had seemed distant dreams, turned into reality.
Reflecting on this journey, I now understand its significance. Then, one day, while still engrossed in my “Puppy Handbook,” an old idea resurfaced. It had come from a dream—a spark for a dystopian fantasy. The enormity of the challenge felt daunting, especially after leaving two unfinished novels in my wake. But you know what? I’d developed a healthy writing habit by then.
I initially jumped straight into the new idea, riding the waves of inspiration. Yet, I noticed my focus on the “Puppy Handbook” slipping away. Kudos to my partner, who gently pointed out my tendency to jump into new projects without wrapping up the old ones. So, I made a pact with myself—work on “Reimagined” only after I’d completed the “Puppy Handbook.”
Third time’s a charm
That pact was a game-changer. November 2022 arrived, and with it, NaNoWriMo—an ideal challenge for me to tackle “Reimagined” head-on. During those months leading up to November, I couldn’t shake the story from my thoughts. Characters, world-building, plot twists—everything played on a loop in my mind. When November finally arrived, it felt like I’d lifted a lid, and the story burst forth. I didn’t hit the lofty 50,000-word mark during the challenge, and the novel remained unfinished. But let me tell you, I made significant progress, and the lessons learned were invaluable.
What helped me finish my first draft
- Just Write: This became my mantra for the drafting process. When you’re stuck on a scene, just write. You can always tidy it up later.
- Limit Research: I learned the hard way that researching while writing is a rabbit hole. So, I started jotting down topics to explore later.
- Separate Writing and Editing: Lessons from past attempts—writing and editing have different headspaces. Keep ’em apart for a smoother process.
- Craft a Writing Routine: Plan your writing time; don’t leave it to chance. Writing sprints were a game-changer for me during NaNoWriMo.
- Embrace Plotting: While every writer has their style, I found that pre-planned scenes were much easier to write than spontaneous ones. A mix of plotting and pantsing worked for me.
- Set Realistic Goals: It’s easy to get discouraged if your goals are too lofty. Find a balance that keeps you motivated without overwhelming you. I figured out how often I could write per week, calculated my session word count, and set a daily goal. For instance, my aim was 1200 words per writing session. Did I write every day? Nope. But even a mere 50 or 100 words brought me closer to that first draft finish line.
So there you have it—my playbook for completing my first draft. Now, let’s be real—every writer’s first completed draft is a major milestone, no matter how tough the journey. So if you’ve done it, hats off to you!
But wait, here’s a heads-up: the first draft might feel like a mountain conquered, but the real challenge is the editing marathon. Trust me, it’ll demand time, patience, and maybe a few new gray hairs. But that’s a tale for another day.
For now, focus on writing. And when that first draft is done, take a breather. Let it rest, untouched, for a good couple of months. You’ll need that space before you switch on your “editing brain.”
