You get an idea; you write. Sounds simple. However, for many who have thought they could write a book, the task of beginning suddenly becomes enormous. Even though I taught writing for years in public school, I honestly never t
hought I’d be able to write an entire novel, much less as many as I’ve published over the years. So, here I offer an easy guide. Or not so easy, as the case may be, but it might be helpful.
First and foremost, it’s about the idea. Some may believe that a fully formed book must be in their heads or on paper before they start writing. I call nonsense on that. Let something inspire you. My first published novel began with a title. The rest of it? I have no idea. Maybe I’m old and have forgotten, but when my fingers start typing, they sometimes have no idea where they’re gonna take me. An idea, a character, a plot point, a setting—all can lead to a fully developed story. My fascination with religions and spirituality has birthed many of my novels. What if? What if I had a character from a specific religion, and what if that religion placed constraints on him? What if that religion told him he could not be gay? (All of my novels have gay protagonists.) Then how would that restriction play out? Or what if my main character came from a filthy-rich family? How would he walk that walk? How would his family react to him? What if I wanted my character to be transgender? Where would that lead? What if my creation lived in Chicago, Las Vegas, Houston, the Midwest? Each of those places would present its own problems and solutions. And, in the case of An Angry God, what if a serial killer were stalking young gay men in the community? Who would be affected? How would they deal with it all?
Once you have an idea, you have to write. I have battled with the notion that writers must write every day. I see posts online from my fellow writers who proudly proclaim, “I wrote a thousand words today!” or sadly, “I’m in a slump and wrote only a paragraph.” That kind of thinking, whether triumphant or blaming, can be defeatist. I only write when I want to. I only write when I am compelled to do so. I only write when I feel strongly that my fingers on the keyboard are going to lead me somewhere. Call me lazy. I’ll own up to it. I never liked to work. I grew up in a family with a strong work ethic, so I taught school for thirty years because I knew I needed a steady job. I loved that job. But I hated that alarm clock, that calendar, that feeling of “I don’t want to go to work today.” So now that I’m a writer, I don’t set deadlines for myself. I do admit that publishers sometimes set deadlines for me, and I can live with that. The vast majority of actors are not superstars and wait tables for a living. The same is true for writers. We write, not for the wealth that Stephen King has accumulated, but because we love what we do, just like actors. Writers can sometimes become best-selling authors (and don’t think that always brings wealth), but mostly, writers simply want to share their work with the world. Remember this: Van Gogh never sold a painting in his lifetime.
So, how do you actually become a writer if you don’t write every day? Here’s what I realized. I do write every day. I write emails to friends. My emails—to the chagrin of my friends, I’m sure—are often lengthy and newsy. Thus, I’m telling stories. That’s what writers do. And I proofread. I hone my skills by making sure that no email (or text) is ever sent unless every word is spelled correctly and every comma is in place. Sounds like a pain, huh? It can be. But it’s also a great way to not only get in the habit of knowing your work, but also learning skills. You don’t know how to spell a word? Look it up. Or choose another word that means the same thing. You find, as you proofread your emails, that you have used the word “very” a zillion times. Find another way to say the same thing. That’s an invaluable writing skill. I assure you, although some of my email buddies may not like my lengthy emails, others have said, “I love getting your emails because you tell such good stories.”
Another crucial part of my writing process is writing reviews. I review every book I read. (And if you wanna-be writers out there are not reading, then shame on you!) I long ago realized that if I want other writers to review my books, then I need to review theirs. On the world’s largest retailer, Amazon, reviews sell books. It is said—and I haven’t researched this—that a book has to have at least twenty reviews before Amazon will suggest it to readers. So do your part. Write a review of any and all books you read. No, I don’t read new or unknown writers exclusively, but I write reviews of everything, including that book I found from 1947 that has been out of print for a long time, and Amazon is selling the last available copy on earth. I’m obsessed with reviewing. Why? Because it enhances my writing skills. Despite the fact that Amazon reviews can be as brief as “I liked it” or as baffling as “He liked the book,” I always have a shape to my reviews. I include the title, the author, a one-sentence synopsis, and my reasons for liking and not liking the book. Yes, I know the book’s listing has most of that info, but writing within a structure helps me later when I’m writing within the structure of creating an entire novel.
And more about reading (and structure), the best way to learn about what the elements of a novel are is by being steeped in the writing of others. I find myself, in doing first drafts, second drafts, and on and on, thinking of things like “this character would act this way,” or “this needs a zinger here,” or “people don’t react that way.” I learn those things from life, but I also learn from reading, from the finest writers to the worst. They are all teachers.
Writing is an art. But the writer is an artist, just as an architect is an artist. You can design a beautiful building, but if it falls down when you build it, what good is it? The architect starts with an idea—what is this building’s purpose? Where will this building sit? What people will use this building for? What problems will they encounter in the building? Ultimately, will this building stand up for eternity? Think about it. All those questions apply to a novel. Know your idea, know where your book is set, know what is happening in the novel, know how to solve any problems that arise, and know you are building a story that will be here long after you are gone. And lest you think I’m contradicting everything I said previously, all these things don’t have to be known at the same time. I doubt that an architect can create a fully developed, perfect building with the first draft. It’s a process, just like writing is.
For what it’s worth—that’s my philosophy of writing. Take it and go forth! Or not. I’m not the God of Writing. (He smiles.)







