What it’s like writing a book

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 10^th 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.