If my memory serves, the great (and prolific) horror writer Stephen King is a staunch supporter of the just-keep-writing-and-don’t-look-back approach to writing a novel. He espoused writing the first draft in one great gush, and only when it’s complete going back to revise, rewrite and refocus.

I am a fan of Mr. King’s work but I’m afraid I can’t write that way.

Not that my approach to penning a novel is the product of conscious, rational consideration of the process. It’s nowhere close. It’s more a recognition, as I launch into writing my fourth full novel, of the tendencies and preferences I have unknowingly developed over the course of that body of work.

And my work on The Final Curtain has only served to reinforce those tendencies, confirm those preference as to how I write a novel.

Here’s what I do.

First, I spend a lot of time thinking about the plot lines I wish to explore and how they will relate to each other. As you have no doubt already realized, I am currently trying to make sure my novels have at least two central plots: one based in the courtroom and focused on a significant criminal or civil trial in which my main character serves as one of the lawyers, the other a more action-oriented plot, a mystery plot in which my main character ends up acting not only as lawyer but also as investigator for his client.

Now it’s not surprising that, as I develop the plots, I also find myself developing the new characters associated with each story line. Who are they? What do they look like? How do they act? Where do they come from? What drives them to do what they do? How do they come to know my regular characters? And how do they come to find themselves immersed in my plot?

Once I’ve got my plots (and their associated characters) fairly firmly developed in my mind, I sit down to start writing. I try to open with a challenging, interesting first line, one which intrigues the reader with many questions, which promises that there’s lots of excitement to come. For example, in The Silent Goodbye, the first line describes the way a blade slides coldly across my hero’s throat. The Final Curtain, in its current state, begins with a strong, confrontational statement from my protagonist, a statement that tells the reader that we’re in court, that my hero’s client is in trouble, and that my hero is desperate.

Then I begin writing in earnest. With the plots and characters so firmly established in my head, the writing usually goes smoothly for the first little while. I set the scene, introduce the characters and the conflicts, and try to make sure there’s a whole series of questions that the reader will want answered. That’s why he or she will keep on reading.

In between the sessions of writing, I let my mind consider what I’ve written, probe it for holes in plot or character, run it through a mental checklist to make sure I’ve included everything I had planned to include, look for ways to improve it, make it more vivid, more real, more interesting.

Each ensuing session of writing usually begins with a review and polishing of what came before, filling those holes, adding that which I missed, improving what I can. That process also makes sure everything is fresh in my mind as I start with new writing, moving the story forward. If things are going well, each session is perhaps one-third review and revision and two-thirds new writing.

For a while, the system works well.

But then, almost inevitably, I get to a point in the novel when I realize I need to change something major, or move in a different direction, or add something significant to the early part of the novel that will affect all that comes after.

Stephen King would advise me to leave it and keep writing. Come back to it when the manuscript is completed. Fix it then.

I tried that once. And almost drove myself crazy. I decided that a major early plot point had to change but, instead of going back to change it (and rewrite what followed to be consistent with the change), I decided simply to plow on and write the remainder of the novel as if I had actually made the change.

Problem was, I ended up making further changes as the writing progressed. And, again, instead of revising the earlier parts of the book, I just kept going. By the time I got to the climax of the plots, I was so confused as to what was what that I had to walk away from the manuscript for a while to figure things out. I then went back to do a complete rewrite, an outline of my final plans at my side.

It was one of the most frustrating things I’ve ever had to do.

So this time I’m going back. I have realized that a couple of significant issues have to be introduced at the start of the book and I have now returned to page one to revise the manuscript accordingly.

Is it a bit frustrating? Yes. I’d love to be making forward progress, pushing up the word count and moving further and further into my plots.

But I am reminding myself of my earlier major frustrations when I took the other approach and didn’t go back. I think… no, I know that I’d rather take a couple of days now than waste a month or more later. So I'm back at the beginning once again. I'm no King, but I'm no fool either.

Tags: Stephen King, Writing, Novel, Phillip Gold, Mystery, Courtroom drama, Publishing