This year I wrote my first book. It’s a comedy in the genre
of “Yes Man” by Danny Wallace, and it’s called “My Groupon Adventure”. It’s
based on a true story and will be published by Unbound in early summer 2016.
My Groupon Adventure was originally a stand-up comedy show
written for the 2014 Edinburgh festival. And when the opportunity presented
itself to turn it into a book I was blasé about it. “Yeah. Seems like fun.” I said. “How hard can
it be?” The answer, it turns out, is very hard. Hard not just because of the
stamina and creativity involved in writing 65,000 words. But hard because of
the emotional labour that defines the process from start to finish.
The most exhausting thing about writing a book is how often
you get judged. Judged by readers, by editors and most of all by yourself. Early
on in the process I realised that I wasn't as good as I thought I was. I’d
written blogs before, I’ve written and performed numerous hour long Edinburgh
shows, and had various scripts at various stages of development with TV
production companies. But there is no hiding place in a 65,000 word manuscript:
your flaws, your tropes and your own damned inexperience is brutally
butterflied in front of you.
The book was an amalgam of two years of blogs, the live show
and also lots of new material. And one of the most interesting (and
excruciating) parts of the process was comparing what I’d written near the
beginning of the project, to what I was writing near the end. On the bright
side, my most recent writing was clearly a huge improvement on those early
efforts. But that nascent prose, words that at the time I believed to be beacons of talent,
was embarrassing in hindsight. Flabby, pretentious and often crass: if I knew
then how bad it was I would never have started a book!
But that I suppose is the beauty of naivety.
What was the antidote to the poor prose? Time and hard work.
The usual recipe. Gradually my craft improved: by reading more, by writing
more, and by getting good notes.
I studied narrative theory and also how other writers in the
genre had made it work. Borrowing what I’d enjoyed and making it my own, and
rejecting what I hadn’t. Slowly it all came together.
So if you're a budding writer my advice to you would be to
start now. Start early, fail lots, and don’t stop until you’re good. Greatness
looks like futility until it happens.
Writing a book is an elegiacal experience. Over time I’ve
witnessed the death of one writer, and the birth of another. In fact, I’ve
witnessed numerous deaths and rebirths. As various doe-eyed iterations of the original scribbler stuck
their wet head out of the womb. And then made their first tentative steps onto
the blank page. This constant interaction between destruction and creation,
between self-loathing and pride, are what came to define the writing journey
for me.
I’ve learnt that you’re never as good as you want to be. You
never know enough words. You’re never wise enough. You’re metaphors never quite
soar like they should. You always hate what you write as you write it. Then it
gets a bit better as you go back and rewrite it, but it’s still shit shit shit.
So why push through? For me it was fear of embarrassment.
The book had to be good because it would have my name on it and be out in the
world possibly forever. That gives you a much less forgiving pair of eyes.
And it gives you the necessary doses of pig-headedness required to wade through
the thick mud of doubt.
When I finally submitted the book to my editor, and to
various other readers too, to my surprise they were complimentary. Yet still
the voice of inadequacy sung its siren. How can an imposter have written
something good? So I became paranoid about the praise. What was going on? Could
they not see that it was crap?
Of course, it’s not crap. Christ, please don’t go away
thinking that! PLEASE READ IT! It’s good, I promise. In fact some of it is
really excellent. Cross my heart.
After finishing the manuscript, and then acting on the
editor’s notes, the next problem was finally letting it go. Sending my baby off
into the world. Out of my grasp. Where I could no longer tinker.
But if you want a piece of creative work to be perfect you’ll
never make anything. At some point you need to let it go and allow it to
collide with the market. To touch the flames of the punters’ disdain. Or hopefully
the opposite. But you catch my drift. A book is never finished, it’s abandoned.
So there we have it. The book is done. It is soon to be
printed and sent to pledgers, and then to book shops too by the good folks at
Penguin-Random House.
But you can still support
My Groupon Adventure:
The deadline to get your name in the back of the book is
January 10th 2016. Just click this link HERE.
What’s more, Groupon are doing a special deal
between now and January 1st where you can TEN POUNDS OFF your pledge my
choosing the discount code “FESTIVEREADING ” at the
checkout. What a bargain!
To all those who have supported this book so far: thank-you.
It’s made me very happy. And to all those who haven’t: it’s not too late. And I’d
be very grateful.
