(Hmm, there’s a lot of ‘R’ words related to looking backwards …)
So, the end of a decade. It’s technically the third one I’ve been alive for, but since I was only 11 at the start of 2010, this is basically the first decade I fully experienced.
I’m not giving you a review of the last ten years, because there’s no way I’d remember it all. Given the amount of brain growth/neural re-wiring, I’ve quite literally become a different person.
I will, however, be reviewing 2019. Here’s the short:
4.5 stars out of 5 stars – Excellent visuals, overly derivative storyline.
Just kidding, this isn’t that type of review. How about we go month by month instead?
(By the way, if you’re wanting actual reviews of the 49
books I read in 2019, read this post).
January:
I started the year in the same place I finished the last one: Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. From December to February, I was working full-time at an architecture internship at B+H Architects.
I’ve been away from home (Perth, Australia) for long periods before (5 months for exchange to London). However, this experience was far harder. While I’m grateful for the opportunity, the firm didn’t have much work for me, meaning that most of my time in the office was spent uselessly cooling my wheels. I also didn’t have a huge amount of money, and even though Vietnam is wonderfully affordable, it did prevent me from touring around the country. As a result, I spent the entire three months stuck in Ho Chi Minh City, except for a brief trip to Vung Tau. While I like Ho Chi Minh City, I’m a very nature-oriented person. There’s not much of that there. By the end of the internship, I was really itching to walk on some grass.
If this sounds bad, though, it wasn’t. Vietnam was the crucible that strengthened my determination and discipline to write. Every morning, I got up at 5am, went for a run on potholed streets, ate a tomato like an apple (I’m not even kidding – I said I was cheap), then sat down to smash out a few hours of writing before work at 8.
(Quick guide to my excel spreadsheet: a ‘1’ = writing day. Other types of writing-related work are named, i.e. ‘outlining’).
Fully in control of my time (outside of work, of course), I was able to put more time into writing than I ever have before. By the end of January, I was 34 000 words into Masks of Steel, which I only started outlining at the beginning of the month. Taking the time to make a solid outline (about 10 000 words long) really helped.
(For those not familiar with it, Masks of Steel is a fantasy novel about a ruthless street urchin who infiltrates a military flight school to get revenge for her father. It’s set in a steampunk world where civilisation lives on pillars of rock that stand above a sea of fog and monsters.)
You might wonder how I had the motivation to write in Vietnam when my life was fairly draining – working at a place that didn’t have much actual work for me, away from my friends and family, in a foreign country. The thing is, writing gave me energy. It’s always done this, but in Vietnam, writing was more than a fun hobby. It was escape, it was fulfilment, it was stretching myself to scale new heights and explore new worlds. More importantly, it made me realise what has become one of my core convictions:
I write because it’s easier than not writing.
It wasn’t always this way. But at some point, I must’ve flipped a switch, and now I actually feel physically sluggish and almost ill if I go a long stretch without writing. I’m so incredibly grateful for this realisation. And that’s why Vietnam, while difficult, was an amazing experience that contributed to a lot of personal growth.
Other highlights:
– Lots of reading (14 books)
– Getting into a better, more disciplined exercise routine (it helped that getting up at 5am was the only time when Vietnam’s roads weren’t swarming with traffic)
– Delicious Vietnamese food. I kinda miss not being able to eat at restaurants for breakfast, lunch, and dinner – for less than $6 (Australia) a day.
February:
I returned to Australia from Vietnam on the 6th, grateful for how it strengthened me and looking forward to catching up with family and friends. February was mainly focussed on continuing Masks of Steel. By the end of February, I was up to 78 150 words on the novel (about 70% finished). That’s more than I recorded me writing in all of 2018, although I only started keeping score in April, 2018.
Personally, getting back into life in Perth was fantastic. My time in a city without nature made me so much more grateful for all the wonderful parks and trees we have here. I started walking along the river a lot more, and nowadays I tend to walk along the river 4-5 times a week. If I’m walking by myself, I’ll listen to podcasts and/or mull over story ideas. In my interview with one of my favourite authors, Gabriel Bergmoser, he mentioned that taking long walks with his dog (and without his phone) is a big part of his creative process.
March:
I started my Masters of Architecture at Curtin (more on this later) and settled into a comfortable writing routine. I’ve always been decent at consistency, but I definitely took it to another level this year. Architecture is a super time-intensive course, so I’m glad for how it’s forced me to learn the time management skills needed to stick to a daily writing routine. I also scored a paid internship working one day a week at an architecture firm, which I was stoked to receive.
On the note of daily writing: I personally know that I am the
most happy and productive when I write every day. As soon as I skip a few days
writing (as I have between the Christmas-New Years break to focus on packaging Across
the Broken Stars) I tend to get itchy. That’s why I recommend that new
authors adopt some form of daily writing. Crafting a novel does not rely on the
muse striking you. It relies on persistence and hard work. That work becomes
less hard if you make it an unthinking habit. As Philip Pullman said:
“Habit has written far more books than talent has.”
By the end of this month, I was up to 108 367 words on Masks of Steel – very close to the end.
April:
Looking back, it’s hard to remember how difficult Masks of Steel actually was to write. Perhaps it’s because I was trying some new things – my first book with two point of view characters, daily word counts often reaching into the 3000+ words count, or perhaps the fact that it was 30 000 words longer than anything I’d written before. Whatever it was, there were times during the middle of the book where it was hard work. In a weird way, I’m glad for that. It made me realise that I have the discipline to push through hard patches of writing and still craft a decent story. And as I got towards the end of the book, I really started enjoying it again. I pride myself on writing with the climax in mind (it’s often the first thing that comes to me) – and I’m very pleased with how this book wrapped up. I’m proudest of the fact that there’s no real villain. The story’s told from the points of views of two characters who are indirectly opposing each other, resulting in a narrative full of gray morality.
Still, I wanted a change of pace after writing a fairly long book by my standards. I also, after years of pondering, wanted to get some first-hand data on self-publishing. Through The Novel Analyst Podcast, I’d built up an audience who I thought might be interested in buying my books. Plus, I was sick of pondering about self-publishing without actually having any experience. So, I decided to create a Minimum Viable Product – a short novella that I could write and publish quickly. Based on how it went, I would then decide whether to continue with the self-publishing route.
That novella was originally titled, Into the Ashwoods. It became Fires of the Dead.
By the end of the month, I’d written 126 000 words for the year.
May:
I finished Fires of the Dead (formerly Into the Ashwoods) early in this month. The plan was to return to edit Masks of Steel. But after a few days rest from writing, I realised I was too obsessed with Fires of the Dead to leave it alone. So I dove back in to editing it.
Normally, I like to let stories sit for a while so I can return with fresh eyes. Saying that, Fires of the Dead had been a quick write. It still felt fresh and I still felt eager to re-enter the world. It’s such an exciting feeling when my stories call me like this, and because of this I knew I was on to a great book.
All up, I wrote the 1st draft of Fires of the Dead in 23 days. At 21 095 words, that averaged out to 917 words/day.
Actual writing time was a little slow this month, mainly due to big architecture assignments at uni.
June:
I started and finished the 3rd draft of Fires of the Dead. I also dipped my toe back into Masks of Steel, reading through the entire first draft and taking about 30 000 words of revision notes. I feel like my note taking strategy was slightly floored, mainly because there were times when I’d note to change something minor (i.e. ‘cut this word out of this sentence’) when I could’ve just done it in the actual manuscript and saved time. Still need to find a better way to do these types of revisions.
In terms of other stuff, I played my first game of Dungeons and Dragons, officially inducting me into the fantasy hall of nerds. Uni also finished up for the semester.
I had a fairly low (yet weirdly rewarding) moment late in this month. When the holidays began, I worked at the architecture place more or less full-time. It quickly became apparent that it wasn’t for me. While I won’t go and bash them, because I am grateful for what I learned there, let it be said that the culture wasn’t amazing and the work was incredibly monotonous. A few months later, I would quit this job and move to working at a much better playground designing company. More on that later. For now, though, I would probably say this was the most important and self-developing moment of the year. I’ve never quit anything of substance before, never failed an assignment, never really done something massively confrontational, so quitting my job felt like a hugely scary position – especially since I’d imagined architecture could be my day job while my writing career grew. Having the courage to quit, however, felt amazing. I definitely grew from it and it made me realise that it’s not a big deal in the scheme of things.
It also forced me to consider what I really want from life. I used to think I could balance architecture and writing. The dream was to run my own architecture company 3-4 days a week, then write the rest of the time.
However, last year I’ve decided I want writing to be my one thing. Moving forward from this moment, pretty much everything is predicated on how it helps or hinders my writing. And sure, I know it’ll be hard and I know I might fail. But I’m just so grateful to be committing to this pathway. Even if I achieve nothing of note after another ten years of writing, I’ll only be 31 and I’ll still have my whole life ahead of me. And even if I fail, I’ll still enjoy the fact that I did it, because I love the process so much and I have a strong feeling that I’ll be writing for the rest of my life, regardless of the financials of it.
So, I took another big plunge. I deferred semester two of my masters of Architecture, meaning that instead of going back to uni I would spend the next six months working solely on my writing (and still working part-time at the architecture place – I wasn’t to quit it for another few months).
July:
Writing was slightly interrupted by a wonderful trip to America for a leadership conference at UCLA. I toured around San Francisco, Las Vegas, and La.
Actually, looking at my spreadsheet reminds me that writing wasn’t that interrupted. I was still re-reading Masks of Steel and taking notes, which I now distinctly remember doing on my kindle and laptop in a San Francisco hostel…
The leadership conference was called LEAP, and it was wonderful. A lot of the lessons were things I’d already internalised, but there were a lot of great speakers who were super inspiring and it re-affirmed my commitment to pursing my writing with greater ambition and action.
If you’re interested, you can read my LEAP notes here. They might not make a huge amount of sense to you since I wrote them for myself, but, hey – might still be useful.
A big pattern you’ll notice in these last two months is that – while I did a lot of revision – I didn’t do much actual writing. That made it a little hard to get back into writing later in the month/year. Moving forward, I’ve resolved to try and always do some writing even during revision phases of other books. It’s all about staying ready so you don’t have to get ready.
August:
I finished Ascendant Flames, a prequel short story to Fires of the Dead. The idea with this was to offer a bonus to fans of Fires of the Dead, letting them get to spend more time with the characters and also join my email newsletter to stay updated with my writing. Even though it’s short, Ascendant Flames has had a pretty good reception. A lot of people who joined my email list through it have expressed appreciation for the story and the other things I’ve sent through to them.
Cheeky plug time! You can read Ascendant Flames for yourself right here.
If you look at the spreadsheet below, you’ll wonder what the heck happened to my writing. The simple answer is that I was packaging Fires of the Dead – designing the cover, figuring out how print-on-demand paperbacks work, and doing all the things that come when you’re self-publishing your first book.
Again, I don’t want this to happen again. As I write this, I’m currently experiencing a similar thing with Across the Broken Stars (it’s been about 10 days since I touched Drowning Sands, my current work-in-progress), but I will be returning to regular writing of Drowning Sands tomorrow or later today, so that should nip this one in the bud.
September:
This was the biggest month I’ve had in my short eight-year writing career. That’s because I launched Fires of the Dead, my debut fantasy novella!
After so long toiling in isolation, sharing my first book with the world felt incredible. While I only got 70% of the way towards achieving the monetary goal I set with the book (for 2019, at least), I’m stoked with how it’s gone, and some of the reviews have exceeded even my expectations.
No, it hasn’t been a huge hit and I can’t go retire in Hawaii or whatever. But that’s not what I want. I’m here for the long haul and this first step on the journey was a one that’s made me excited for future books – and it’s started to build my platform, which is nice.
I got back into editing Masks of Steel more consistently. Compared to the at-times-difficult first draft, revision (while still tricky) was quite nice, because I had already shovelled the proverbial sand in the sandbox.
Outside of writing, I scored big with the Novel Analyst podcast, interviewing Gareth Hanrahan, author of The Gutter Prayer. The Gutter Prayer was one of the breakout fantasy books of 2019, both in the wider world and in my own personal reading. He was funny, articulate, and had all of the Cthulhu-esque obsessions you’d expect a dark fantasy author to have. I loved our chat.
In other big news, I quit my architecture job and started working at a playground designing company. Still early days, but it’s a massive improvement and everyone is so incredibly friendly! With a super flexible boss, it’s the perfect part-time gig for me to make sure I have plenty of time to write, while still having a reliable income.
October:
I finished Masks of Steel, and more importantly I got back into a more consistent routine, writing/revising/outlining every day.
I also began outlining a new project, tentatively titled Drowning Sands. I don’t want to share many details about this since it’s in an early stage, but I can say that it will probably be an epic fantasy series set in a world of desert tribes.
November:
I really lifted my work rate towards the end of the year, putting in solid 3-5 hour days. This month focussed on my final revisions for Across the Broken Stars, preparing it for publication on Feb 3rd, 2020.
December:
Some more colossal writing days (which I plan to become my ‘new normal’) made December an excellent month. I finished Across the Broken Stars, which is (as I write this) being reviewed by the printing services who will supply the book.
I also continued outlining Drowning Sands. Some things with the outline were a little finnicky, but I eventually arrived at a place I was happy with in early December. Then, I dove into writing the first draft – often in tandem with editing Across the Broken Stars. I think I’m on the right track with this approach (mornings for writing the new thing, afternoons for editing the old thing). While I did fall off it during the Christmas to New-Years period, it’s a sign of how I want to improve my process in the future. And now that most of the Across the Broken Stars stuff is all set up, I’m very excited to dive back into Drowning Sands.
Overall:
Total words written: 163 787
(That might sound like a lot, but it averages out to 448 words per day. So if you can find 30-60 minutes per day, you can easily beat my total!)
Project Statuses:
Masks of Steel – 2nd draft completed.
Fires of the Dead – published!
Across the Broken Stars – finalised, awaiting publication on Feb 3rd, 2020 (in one month from today!)
Drowning Sands – 1st draft underway.
***
I started the year as an author who’d published a few short stories, had written two novels, and who enjoyed writing.
I ended the year as an author who’d published a novella, a few short stories, and has another novel realising in a month (Across the Broken Stars). All up, I’ve now written three novels (and am in the process of writing the fourth), along with a novella, and a lot of short stories.
And I love writing more than ever.
(As you can probably tell from the length of this post).
Alright, that was long and self-indulgent, so if you’re still reading, thanks! Here’s to another excellent year.
And if my writing hasn’t completely tired you out yet, you might like to check out my reviews of all 49 books I read in 2019:
Link.
(Random bonus fun fact: according to word, I spent 120 minutes writing this, and the total word count is 3306 words. That works out to 1643 words/hour, which is ridiculously fast. With fiction writing, I average about 700-900 wph, but I find that non-fiction is way faster. Mainly because I’m usually vomiting thoughts onto the screen without considering if it sounds natural for characters to speak like that…)
