CAN YOU WRITE A MASTERPIECE?
Of course you can. Simply do what the masters do.
Having typed THE END at the end of Kimi’s Secret, for what was probably the tenth but felt like the hundredth time, something warm and satisfying came over me; a feeling of total satisfaction, of true completeness. I’d felt similar before when typing THE END, but never this… lifted. This time it felt just right.
Not one for taking emotional states lightly, I wanted to take a closer look at why I might be feeling this way so I jotted down the growth of KS from creation to completion and it went something like this:
- Create original otherworld: history, geography, physics, culture etc. via notes and sketches
- Create character/creature possibilities and hierarchical structure via notes and sketches
- Develop MC possibilities, traits, likes, dislikes, anomalies etc.
- Note some story/scene possibilities
- Select possible story along with best starting point and best ending point
- Do a scene run (treatment) and develop the story from A to Z
- Rework the scene run five or twenty times until satisfied the best plot is in place
- Start the writing with steers from peers
- Rework numerous times
- THE END
It took six months to create the otherworld and a further six to dig up a good looking story and get a possible run of scenes jotted down, all the while developing the MC and cast member possibilities. Another year to get the first draft down, and another year reworking. Condense that into solid hours spent and we’re looking at a full years’ work at forty hours per week from creative spark to THE END
So why am I smiling?
All those notes I did for KS at the very beginning, the sketches, the various scene runs, the fresh drafts, edits upon edits, and so on; every nuance of manipulation, every tweak, hone, polish uncovered hidden gems and added layer after layer to the original skeleton.
The final draft of KS was completed in one month after almost a year’s hiatus. Such a zymology of words was a joy to revisit. Eureka moments were bountiful. Sparkly jewels jumped into my palm. The final pieces were clicking neatly into place. And I realised what it was that left me feeling so lifted. It was the many drafts, each like a layer of the master’s paint becoming more refined with every application; ghosting the mould, dressing the piece, fine-tuning the fine-tuned, tweaking the tweaks, perfecting the polish.
So, just like a master painter might begin with a sketch and build on that a body of spheres or shapes, fix a wash, then another, the groundwork is done before the layering can start. The master revisits, adding new layers, highlighting, shadowing, bringing points to the surface and hiding others until eventually the master’s piece is finished to a decent level of satisfaction and he feels lifted. I imagine Da Vinci looked at the finished Mona Lisa and smiled because the painting, its skeleton so perfectly formed and fleshed with numerous layers is certainly smiling at him.
Now, I’m not saying my novel is such an achievement as the Mona Lisa, nor am I claiming it a masterpiece, nor am I saying it wouldn’t benefit another five million edits, but I am saying that those many drafts are important, digging up the gems and layering the aesthetics in such a manner as to present the best possible work of your art to your reader as you can. I’m sure that Kimi’s Secret has holes and errors just as Lisa looks questionable with no lashes or brows and a deformed wrist, but I’m also sure that because of what lies beneath, Kimi will smile at her reader.
And so I begin book two of Kimi’s story. Only this time around I will think like a master. I will not fret continuously and stare at a single word for a week. I will not ponder a single paragraph for months, will not chop and change until the first draft, and the next, is done, knowing that such continuous layering will bring the good work to the fore.
Buy Kimi’s Secret: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ZCQ91W