five secrets of writing a non-fiction book

Some of the below are helpful things I have been told by others; the rest I worked out myself, usually the hard way.

1. Writing is all about the old catchphrase ‘never mind the quality feel the width’. Sometimes you get good quality too, first time round. Sometimes you have to rewrite to get the quality level you desire. But you’ll never get to that position unless you go for it, ignore the quality and simply crank out the words. A first draft is your raw material. An idea, a set of notes, a proposal- none of this is raw material. Until you have 60-90,000 words on paper you don’t have anything. Miraculously- even if those 90,000 words are eventually all changed or binned they have served their purpose in defining the project. You’ll get it right next time.

But though you want to write in bulk, being in a mental rush to do so is crippling. I said to myself as I wrote what would become my first published book (I had failed to get three previous books even as far as a publisher) that I would get this published even if it took 100 rewrites and 10 years. Actually it took no major rewrites and about six months to write. But the mental strengthening that comes with saying I’ll do this even if it takes 10 years is very useful. So, bring all this to mind as you start your book and know that if the impulse to actually start is present then you can finish it, that finishing is somehow implicit in the very act of starting, all you have to do is avoid derailing the project. If you can start a book you can finish it.

2. A ‘goal’ in writing is always a number. Numbers are real, all else is poppycock. When the going gets tough and you can’t tell if what you wrote is pullitzer prize winning paragraphs or plain garbage cleave to the number god. A goal is an aim cast in numbers. No numbers no goal. You want to write a book- that’s not a goal, it’s a conversational gambit. I want to write a book 75,000 words, doing 1500 words a day, 5 days a week for 10 weeks starting the 5th June. Now that’s a goal. You must learn that the best invention of the computer age is not the internet or the PC or even your beloved mac but the wordcount. Wordcount rules. Do a certain number of words per day- and try not to drop below 500 words an hour. So three hours will see 1500 words, four hours 2000. Maybe you’ll be faster than that- good, it helps. You need the hours and the wordcount working in parallel to keep you going. Allow a minimum of two hours for a writing slot, three is better. Then you will achieve your count. 

3. Externalise your progress as much as you can. Print out your words at days end. Write your wordcount on a wallchart. Write your wordcount in a small diary that you carry around and gloat over whenever you have a spare moment. Riffle through the increasing pile of pages on your desk. But don’t let anyone read them. You don’t even need to read them yourself. It’s the bulk that counts at this stage. Save your words to gmail and /or some external memory device or a CD. Have an autosave facility too. Losing a 3000 word chapter after writing all day is like having a root canal filled with the dentist somehow having forgetten to give you anaesthetic first. I kid not.

But the main point is that writing is such an internal game you need as much evidence externally that stuff is happening as you can get. You are moving from something that is an idea to something in the real world- a physical object called a book. Everything you can do that makes the project seem realer is good and helpful. Even printing out a fake cover with a picture can add a touch more reality to the project.

4. Decide what you will be writing about when you are not writing about what you are writing about. This is a life saver. Writing is a bit like bodybuilding. In the old days body builders would kill themselves working each part of the body each day and then every few days have to rest as their tortured entirety recovered. Then some genius of the world of weights and steroids discovered that you could do arms only one day and then legs only the next and abs on the third, and while one part ached and rested another could be worked really hard. In writing you’ll find sometimes you just run dry on a topic except you know you need to add a bit more bulk before you move on to the next item on your chapter list. You need the metaphorical equivalent of an abs break. Biographical threads can be good. When I wrote Angry White Pyjamas I had a lot of unpublished biographical material on the founder of the dojo. When I ran out of steam writing about being beaten up I could switch to telling some good anecdotes about this unusual character. This then recharged some inner resource or battery so that I could then flip back to my main topic with renewed interest and vigour. Food is good too- you see them doing this in movies where the director tries to add something to a scene by having Angelina Jolie munch on a cheeseburger or even a crème brulee. Desperate or what? But it has its place in the bookgame. Recipes, meals, food shopping- you can fit this stuff in anywhere when you are running out of steam. Now this may sound a bit cavalier- OK think up something more respectable for your own project. Let’s say you’re writing about the Norwegian contribution to exploration- when that palls start in on describing the climate, wildlife and flora of the place and how this has obviously had its effect on the main topic.

5. You learn an immeasurable amount from a finished book, however bad it is; but you learn nothing from an unfinished book except that finishing it would have been a good idea.

You are halfway through your book. Maybe two thirds. You foolishly read it one night while consuming numerous glasses of Laphroig whiskey, or even cans of Heineken. It seems like complete shit (the book not the booze). Unadulterated rubbish. Now is the real test. If you start all over you’ll face the same situation again. You will! So bite the bullet now and finish. Even if every step feels like swimming in mud. Finish! Then, after a day or two (that’s about all you’ll manage) reread it all. It won’t be too bad. A few changes needed here and there, but, amazingly, not bad. Even if, as I have done a couple of times, you reject all of it, often themes, ideas, characters pop up in the new draft and you can write the second draft easily having already got used to them. In my experience, in writing, nothing is ever wasted.

The key thing about finishing is that it gives you closure on the project, a sense of achievement rather than failure. We all have enough of the latter without adding to it. And having finished you can get a clear, rather than hazy, perspective of where you have to go, of what needs doing to the project you have defined by your first draft. Believe me, an unfinished book can haunt you for years, worse than any ghost.