I’ve seen the arguments against them from writers like Terry Pratchett. How they say that we don’t split our lives into chapters, so it really doesn’t make sense to split our stories (which are meant to be reflections of our lives) into chapters.

That’s all very well. Maybe he’s right. Maybe not. It’s not really something I think about, because there’s one very good reason why I choose to construct my stories in clearly delineated chapters.

Let me explain it this way. I’m a busy person. I don’t get a lot of time to write. Any writing that I do manage to complete is in whatever time I manage to scrounge here and there.

In order to make the most of this time, it’s really important that I can give myself some incentive, especially if I’m working on something major (and really, anything over around 15,000 words is major for me). Seeing that mountain in front of me can be pretty frightening. But breaking that mountain down into a series of individual climbs makes it all so much more manageable.

That’s why chapters are so useful. They give me a sense of achievement, a sense that I’m actually achieving milestones and getting things done. If I didn’t give myself these frequent, short-term goals, I’m not sure I would ever have the focus to get a novel written.

Of course, once I find myself working with chapters, I try to have a bit of fun with them. One of the creative triggers that helped me with my fantasy novel Magnus Opum (which has just been re-released by Booktrope Publishing – sorry, I just had to get a plug in there) was deciding that the title of each chapter would be based on some sort of nonsensical made-up word. Might not sound like much, but it helped to put my mind into the right place creatively to move the story forward.

Similarly, in my Neville Lansdowne stories (Doodling, Scribbling, Scrawling) each chapter title is some sort of little saying or quote (e.g. “A toast to you”, “Taking aim”) which captures something about what the chapter is about.

And, of course, chapters help to give shape to the story, and provide points where you can build up the tension to keep readers wanting to read on.

So, until the next chapter in my own adventures, hope you have a great week. 

Just over two years ago, I published my first novel, Magnus Opum, in ebook form. It was a moment that filled me with great pride at the time. To think that I could actually finish a novel-length work and make it available to the world seemed like a major achievement.

Over the last two years, Magnus Opum has slowly racked up a fair amount of reviews and feedback. Some of it is not so great. But most of it has been amazingly positive. It seems that readers really enjoyed my funny little story about the adventures of a seemingly insignificant chap called Magnus.

But Magnus’s journey into publication was only just beginning. Just under a year ago, the wonderful people at Booktrope Publishing took a look at Magnus Opum and decided that they quite liked it too – and the result was an offer for publication.

Now, the day has arrived for Magnus Opum to be officially relaunched in its new Booktrope colours. My friend Lliam Amor has designed a spiffy new cover for the occasion. And, most exciting of all, the book is now available in paperback form as well as ebook. So lots of reasons to celebrate.

You can find your new and improved version of Magnus Opum at:

Kindle Store
Amazon Books
Barnes & Noble
Nook Store
iBooks 

So if you haven’t yet experienced Magnus and his incredible adventures, now is the perfect time to start.

And let me finish by offering a big thanks to the Booktrope people for presenting me with this exciting opportunity. 

I know that because I keep seeing them all over the place. 10 rules for this and 10 rules for that. Lists put up by famous writers, and lists put up by people I’ve never heard of.

I know rules are good. I know they help to give you guidance and structure, especially while you’re doing something that could otherwise be totally free-form and random, like writing. But does it really have to be so complicated? Do we really have to pay attention to so many rules?

I’m sorry, but I just can’t make the effort to follow so many rules. I try to keep things as simple as I can when I’m creating my stories (and when I’m doing pretty much anything else for that matter). That’s why, I’ve whittled my list of key writing rules down to two. Of course, I pay attention to basic grammar (as much as I know of it) but beyond that, I have two key rules that I follow:

1. It’s got to flow
2. It’s got to be colourful.

That’s it. That’s as simple as it is. Writing that flows and writing that’s colourful. I’ll try to explain it in a little more detail.

Writing that flows is easy to explain. It’s like thinking of the story as a river, and the reader as a boat just setting off. From the very first word, it’s got to pick that boat up and set it on its way as smoothly as possible. No bumps or obstacles, nothing that gets in the way of a smooth journey from beginning to end. Every sentence links to the one before it. Every character is consistent and clear. Every idea is logically developed. Once you start reading, from that very first word, the only thing you can do is keep on reading.

Sometimes, it’s a bit of a compromise. Sometimes, you have to break the flow to ensure there’s enough colour. Sometimes, you have to pull back on the colour to keep the flow. But all in all, the two elements work well in tandem. Putting them together is a big part of what makes writing so rewarding.

Anyway, those are my rules. I find that as long as I can stick to them, I’m pretty happy with what I produce. 

I suppose I better say yes. After all, given that last week I wrote about how writing makes my brain hurt. Seems like I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I then came out and said the complete opposite. People would start to think I made up these posts on the spot, just to fill in space on my blog.

Well, putting aside the potential truth of the last sentence, I do want to take a slightly different angle today. Writing still is difficult. It still makes my brain hurt. But, despite that, there are often times when it feels like an incredibly natural process. Words just flow out from my mind and onto the page.

At times like that, I begin to wonder if writing is more of an instinctive process. Sometimes, it works best when I don’t think too much about it. And to be honest, I’m not particularly schooled as a writer. I haven’t read a heap of books on writing, and while I have attended some classes, these have mainly focussed on workshopping material rather than the actual craft of writing.

Are people born with the skill to write? Is it something that just comes naturally? Whenever I think this might be true, I remember how much I’ve actually read. In some ways, reading a lot of books is the perfect learning tool for learning how to write. Every book (or at last every good book) has been a lesson in how to construct character, how to set scenes, how to deliver dialogue, and all those other aspects of storytelling. Over the years it’s sunk in, helping me to become the writer I am today.

So if writing truly is instinctual, it’s definitely a learnt instinct. It’s from unconsciously absorbing the techniques for writing that you’re able to then use them in a manner that feels instinctive.

And whenever I feel like it might be that easy, I get something back from an editor and see how much red there is on the page. That’s when I remember that no matter how much I’ve gained from my reading, there’s always a lot still to learn. 

Writing really does make my brain hurt. It makes me feel like my brain has been squeezed and stretched and poked and prodded in every possible way imaginable. And why wouldn’t it, because while I am writing, that is pretty much exactly what is happening to my brain.

Sometimes, at the start of the day, I sit at my computer, waiting. I feel a bit like a swimmer at a pool, preparing to take that first dive in. I know that once I start, I’m going to be putting my brain under serious stress. I feel like I need to draw a deep breath before taking the plunge.

As soon as I’m in there, I can feel the stress building up. Sometimes, it feels as if I’m wrestling with the words, trying to force them into place. Other times, it’s as if I’m trying to rip something out of the very air in front of me, or dig it out from the depths of my mind.

Either way, it’s not easy. The more I do it, the more I feel like my brain is being tied in knots. The more it starts to throb, making me feel like my eyes will pop out and my head will explode.

By the time I’m finished, I know I’ve put myself through a workout. I know I’m exhausted, and my head will need a good, long rest.

I hope I’ve convinced all you people out there who think that writing is like a walk in the park. Writing is difficult, stressful, brain-exhausting work.

So if it’s such a slog, why do I do it? Because, despite all the mental strain, it’s still lots and lots of fun.