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How to Write a First
Novel
by Steven Carter
- Buy some scissors.
- Learn, from your own social
awkwardness—the polite, smiling silences after you have spoken your mind
at parties, weddings, meetings, everyone within ear shot staring at his
or her shoes—that you’re not as charming as you think you are.
- Write daily for a minimum of twelve
years.
- Give up.
- A few months later, start tucking in
your shirt again. Write some
more.
- No hats. The importance of this cannot be stressed enough. No Samuel Jackson backward berets, no
baseball caps set in any direction, no compensatory cowboys hats, even
if your hair starts coming out and you have to clear a mouse-sized clump
from the shower drain every morning so the water doesn’t pool over your
feet. And, though it might seem
to go without saying, no bandanas either.
- Light beards are acceptable.
- Start divorce proceedings.
- Your gorgeous wife at your side,
stand in front the judge as he looks over your property settlement. When he asks, Is this it? No houses, no boats, no cars? pause
for just the perfect length of time, then say, No, but I wish there
were.
- A few months later, start tucking in
your shirt again. Write some
more.
- Finally read the copy of Moby Dick
you’ve been hauling around for fifteen years, allowing yourself to skim
the Leviticus-like sections that have always stopped you before.
- Admit to yourself and others that,
even though you’re wild about Joyce’s early work, and you admire the
chances the guy took, you just find Ulysses boring. Feel the freedom that brings.
- Stop smoking.
- Stand at the edge of the abyss and
look it over.
- Recall some shady impressions of
Howard Hughes from your youth.
- With the wonderful advice of many
friends and associates, write a novel and call it I Was Howard Hughes. So that Google will find this, find a
way to work the title into the odd fictional piece you are writing about
how you wrote it, even though you usually don’t like that kind of
cleverness.
- Relax. Don’t take what you’re doing so
seriously. It’s not brain
surgery. It’s not even a trip to
the vet with a beloved pet.
- Remember
that Shakespeare was a businessman.
He had to fill up the Globe.
What would he have done in a world with Google?
- I Was Howard Hughes: “The one book you have to read this
year!” “It makes a great
stocking-stuffer!” “Kids from 8
to 80 will love it!” “The queen
approves!”
- Take your
clothes to the Laundromat, and like always, sit in a plastic chair in
front your washer, silently watching the clothes spin, your reflection
staring back at you from the glass door, the air full of cigarette smoke
and the irritating jingles of a pin ball machine. You’re a novelist now. Smile faintly.
**
Steven Carter recently wrote a book.

Archived
at http://lit.konundrum.com/features/carters_howto.htm
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