Len - yes, I know that feeling too. It's fascinating, in a slightly strange way: the piece does take on an existence of its own, as being separate from you. Conversely (or maybe it's the same effect, really) I also find that things I wrote a long time ago, that didn't seem to be about me at all at the time, read like old diaries. Lots in them that I thought at the time were just good story-telling now reveal so clearly the preoccupations and ideas that I had then.

Not that that should surprise me. I've just found what I think will be the structuring principle (and possibly the title) of my still-nameless new novel in a review in this week's TLS.

Dee, yes, I'm realising how contingent the first draft can be - there are so many times when I'm saying, 'that's not right, but it'll do for a place-holder' and others where I'm saying, 'I don't know what of that thread I need to fit here - I'll have to come back and put it in.' I know the important thing is to get the structure right - however best to do that - because that's the nea-impossible thing to change. But I think the fitting-the-jigsaw-pieces risks the novel looking like a jigsaw forever, and if I were advising a novice novelist (which is definitely not you, Dee, that's for sure), I'd suggest starting on page one, and writing straight through to the end. The more experienced your insticts about what works and what doesn't, the more you can trust them to tell you where the joins are showing, and what to do about it.

And thanks, Jim, Caroline, John - glad you liked the link.

Emma

<Added>

just seen at least three typos. It may be gone noon, but that's still too early on a Sunday for getting these things right!

Yes, of course you're right, Emma. I was just suggesting it as an alternative method. I'm on my fifth novel now and, so far, I've used the seat of the pants method; just write and write and keep writing until the end appears. The danger is that one or two threads can be dropped and then, when you try to pick them up, you find they alter just about everything you’ve done. That happened to me with the original version of TWH… I have about 60k words I had to dump because I suddenly realised I was concentrating on the wrong thread.

Dee

Dee, I think your method makes a lot of sense. I always get particularly interested when someone with lots of experience decides to do things differently. It illuminates all sorts of questions about how one's process affects the product.

Emma

Quite right, ladies (er... women). Recently I came across quite a collection of stuff I wrote years ago. I think I must have written this 'in a very serious manner' for I had a damn good laugh and it read just as if it had been written by someone else.

Dee, a very interesting point you make but it takes a brave writer to dump so much.

I recall that some years ago I had not backed up about 40,000 words of a book I had worked on for some considerable time. I had a PC crash and lost everything.

I thought it had been the greatest thing I had ever written but even with the many threads and contents still fresh in mind, I did not have the heart to start again... I knew that I could never repeat the enjoyment I had had, the enthusiasm and the love I had for the characters. Without these qualities any attempt to repeat this marvellous experience would have been doomed to failure.

Len

Oh, Len, that happened to me, too, swapping files to and from floppies, in the days when you couldn't keep a whole novel on a hard disk. It was a third - the newest and best third, of course - of a novel, and I didn't pick it up again for nine months.

Interestingly, though I did finish the novel in the end, it was broken-backed at that point for ever; I never managed to make the joint knit properly.

Emma

Emma - You write: " I've just found what I think will be the structuring principle (and possibly the title) of my still-nameless new novel in a review in this week's TLS."

Now there was me thinking it was 'The Polished Lamp' - or are you further on?

I have to say, I've had the germ of a few good ideas from the TLS - good source of character names, if nothing else. I got D'Arcy Peever, the disgraced Poet Laureate (in my fictive world) from the TLS - not fully formed, but still, he was there as a homunculus...

I don't suppose you want to say what the structuring principle is yet - but anyway I'm picking up my TLS now, to concentrate on ... hmmm. It won't be the fiction reviews (a bit thin this week). Now, let's see ...

Jim

Well, yes, it's the novel formerly known as A Polished Lamp. It might still be, (and I'm pretty sure I'll be using the quote that phrase comes from as an epigram) but I've gone all self-conscious about titles since Headline Review (quite rightly) insisted on changing Shadows in the Glass to The Mathematics of Love. I don't know if they're going to like this one either, so I'm keeping quiet...

I absolutely love the TLS. Give or take the odd snide review, it's my liberal education, and lets me dip my toe into all sorts of fascinating subjects that I'd never have time to tackle at book length. Only I never read the fiction reviews - now they really are paralysingly self-conscious-making.

Emma

Emma,

since Headline Review (quite rightly) insisted on changing Shadows in the Glass to The Mathematics of Love.

Could I ask on what grounds they based their reason for doing this? Don't you still feel that the initial title best describes your story?

E-

Erik, yes, it does best describe the story, but (to be more cynical than they deserve) that's the least of Headline Review's concerns. The fundamental problem was that they felt that 'Shadows in the Glass' was very unmemorable, and I had to agree that I sort of knew what they meant. It's no good having a title that's perfect in meaning, if no one reading a review can remember what it's called by the time they get to the bookshop! Then my agent - who was willing to back me in digging my toes in if I really wanted to - apparently gave it to a colleague to read, who spent ten minutes talking about how much she loved it, without once being able to remember its name. And I discovered just how many very ordinary historical novels (which mine, dare I say it, is not) have 'shadows' in the title, and caved in.

The Mathematics of Love is a phrase from the novel, at a crucial point, and about a central theme, so I haven't prostituted myself too badly. And the reaction I get now when I tell people what it's called does confirm Headline's savvy. Final confirmation: when it was listed in Time Out, the title was one thing they picked up. So it's taken me months to admit it, but my editor was right. It's been a bit like renaming your three-year old child, though!

Emma

<Added>

There was an extra complication in the end: 'Shadows in the Glass' was a quotation from the epigraph, and that's still in there, so the point's still made, but I had to do a new translation of the epigraph as we couldn't find the copyright holder of the translation, and the quotation was no longer exactly that - and the old title wouldn't have been able to be either!

NB - to all those who think getting the contract's the end of it all, it sure isn't!

Emma,
Yes, I bet it can't be easy. I just felt Shadows hit so well, but I look forward to reading it - and I'll change my mind completely! LOL.
I guess it's a good lesson in moving with the tide so to speak...

PS- Will you post any of your next novel on WW, or are you 'tongue-tied' by Headline?

E-

PS- Will you post any of your next novel on WW, or are you 'tongue-tied' by Headline?

Erik, I don't normally post work-in-progress, though I generally have a story in the archive so that anyone who's interested can get an idea of where I'm coming from as a writer. I'm writing the new one as part of a PhD, so I'm getting the feedback from my supervisor, and in due course my agent. I haven't asked Headline, but I suppose it's true that they might not be too keen if they felt the whole thing had got out there prematurely.

Emma