So it has been a WHILE since I blogged here on my little writing website, and almost as long since I was a regular on Twitter, and I thought it was about time I answered the question: where’ve ya been? Well, I wish I could tell you I have been having fabulous international adventures, but really, it’s been more of an internal journey these last few months when it comes to my writing, making every textbook mistake along the way. Let me explain… At the start of the year, I was absolutely thrilled to get myself a place on the RNA’s New Writer’s Scheme for 2015. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about this programme, and I can tell you, they are just the nicest bunch of people (and super on the ball too). So, with everything I learned from writing short stories and two novellas, I set out to write my novel, with a final deadline of August for NWS submission. I had an idea I’d been playing with – the kind of book I love to read – and I was excited to get started.

So I did. And then I started again. And again. And again. And again. I swear, if the number of times I wrote and rewrote that first chapter was any measure of wordcount, I would have been well on my way. It’s a rookie mistake, and in hindsight of course I should have applied the advice I’d read in every single writing book or blog I’ve ever come across, and pushed on past that roadblock to come back to it later. But I just felt like I couldn’t. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t feel like I had the voice right, or if I just wasn’t relating to my main character yet, or if it was because of a couple of plotting points I couldn’t get my head around. Probably all of the above. But it felt like every time I’d sit down to write, I’d be going back to Chapter 1 and starting over, and thinking “this is it!”, and returning again later and thinking “no, no it is not”.

And that’s when the doubt really creeps in. I don’t write because I want to be some kind of famous author, and I know that the road to even getting published (let alone publishing success) is a very long and difficult one. You have to be doing it for love. And it’s not that I thought I was Hemingway before, but I want to meet my own expectations of quality. I want to feel like what I’m writing is good – or at least, something I would want to carry on reading – before I ask anyone else to spend their time on it. A lot of the time, I doubt that it is. It seems this is an incredibly common feeling among writers at all levels, but what I never counted on is how lonely it can be, even knowing you’re not the only one to feel this way. I spent a lot of time with the underlying feeling of “this is rubbish”, and that did not make me want to press on. It made me want to run away and never try again. And the more I did that and the less I wrote, the more I felt disappointed in myself. It’s a vicious cycle, people. And so – second rookie fail – I didn’t make the habit of writing every day. If there’s one writing resolution I’ve learned to adopt going forward, that is it.

The more I do it, the more writing reminds me of running. If you’d met me 10 years ago, you would think that I was the least likely person to ever run further than a bus stop (and not even then). Then one day I got it in my head that I wanted to do a 10K. I’d stopped and started a few times before, but this time I got more serious and spent the money on decent running shoes. I downloaded a walk-run programme, and I got going. About half way, when I was required to run for 15 mins at a time without walking, I felt totally freaked out. A friend got me past that barrier on holiday, by making me run REALLY slowly. But I did it. And then I kept doing it. I ran the 10K. Then I decided to do a half marathon. Training for that was no picnic, but by now I knew that my body would respond if I put in the time and effort. There were lots of times my brain would be all “Stop! I can’t do this! Why are you doing this to yourself?”, and I would think “Shutup brain” and carry on. My favourite moment was when I went to the London Marathon Shop and I asked the bloke selling me a pair of trainers about doing a full marathon, and he shrugged and replied: “Well, at the end of the day, it’s only running, innit.” The day of my half, when I felt my confidence flag, I remembered that and pressed on. And I did it. In the last few years I haven’t run as much, but I plan to do a full marathon before I’m 40, and I don’t doubt that I will.

As I say, I think writing has been a lot like that for me. I did the novellas like 10K races, and then I thought I was ready for a full stretch. A little bit overconfident maybe. But getting there takes a lot of training and work and showing up, and it also takes a lot of ignoring the little voice in your head that says you can’t. If you do all of that, you’ll get there.

So, while I didn’t get a whole novel written, I didn’t give up, and in the end I did submit a partial manuscript to the NWS. I’m rather proud of myself, in fact. Meeting that deadline (and fleshing out the synopsis that went with the partial) showed me I knew a lot more about where the novel was going and who my characters were than I thought I did. And I was happy with the chapters I sent (yes, even Chapter 1!) I’m looking forward to eventually receiving feedback, so I can learn, and keep moving forward.

Most importantly, if I think about it, over the last weeks I also rediscovered the pleasure of writing – which after all, should be the point. And as part of that, I’ve put the WiP aside for a few weeks to work on a new Christmas novella, because I had so much fun doing this last year. Christmaaaaaas, yay!

Bottom line? I’ve learned that, even when you’re making every rookie mistake in the book, it doesn’t mean you should stop trying. I’ve learned that writing is hard, and that’s fine, and I should be patient with myself as I learn. And I’ve learned that after it gets hard, it can still get fun again.

After all, it’s only writing, innit?