Anatomy of A Novel: Part 8: Musical Soundtracks

While this may seem like an odd topic in a series about writing a novel, I feel very strongly about the music I listen to while writing. I’m not musical myself, and can’t play any instrument, but I do love to listen. Especially when I’m writing.

When writing, it’s important that I listen to music without vocals, so that other people’s lyrics don’t interfere with the words in my own head. The human voice is a beautiful instrument in itself, and it seems a pity to exclude it from the stuff I listen to, so I’ll always include vocal music if the lyrics are in a language I don’t understand. Fortunately, I’m no good at languages other than English, so there is a wide range of music available to me.

I’ve always enjoyed listening to classical music, so naturally this is the best for my writing. I have a few favourite CDs (who am I kidding – I have loads of favourites!) and piano music is my first choice every time. I grew up listening to piano music because both my father and my sister played, and my mother could sometimes be cajoled into playing as well. She was a far better player than she thought she was.

My father’s baby grand sat in the lounge in the centre of our house, so when someone played, it was audible everywhere. With the bay windows open, you could hear it across the garden too. My father’s music of choice was mainly jazz, and many of his favourites have become my favourites now. My sister’s playing was more classical – Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt – because she studied music and her playing was noticeably finer and easy to listen to.

While much of my CD collection today consists of classical piano, a close second is classical guitar. Back in my high school years, television started in South Africa and for the first time I was exposed to the beauty of this gorgeous instrument. I saw programmes on Julian Bream and, closer to home, Tessa Ziegler and Dave Hewitt. I bought a classical guitar and tried to learn to play like them, but oh, how hard it was! Much better to listen and appreciate those who truly could play.

Around that time, my father used to make movies, and he had many movie soundtracks in his record collection. I remember buying the double LP of the music from Star Wars, and being quite surprised that it was so heavily classical. That now famous score by John Williams was even more epic than the movie, and I realised for the first time just how perfectly a full orchestral soundtrack can add to the feel of a film. Much later, I saw how I too could add to the book in my head by underscoring it with richer, more classical music.

Long before I started writing, back in the days when I lived in Johannesburg, I had three radios in my flat, all tuned to Classic FM. As I walked from one room to another, the music followed me so I never missed a note. When I enjoyed a piece I had never heard before, I listened to the announcer afterwards, wrote down the names of the composer and the music, and looked for it on CD the next time I was in Musica or Look & Listen. Thus I built up my collection.

Once I left Johannesburg, I couldn’t hear that radio station any more (long before the days of live-streaming, of course!) so my CD collection was my comfort in a city where the local radio stations didn’t play music I enjoyed. My home was small so one device playing a CD in the main room could be heard all over the cottage.

Listening to classical music has always relaxed me, reminding me of those lazy Sunday afternoons as a child, piano music forever in the background. When I began to write, I found that music formed a natural, harmonious background. My first attempt at writing was a novel based on my family’s history, so maybe the musical connection to the family piano was relevant on that level too.

As time went on and I wrote other novels, I tried to find music appropriate to the themes of each book. I discovered the Putumayo series when writing my novel set in Greece. Hours and hours were spent listening to Putumayo’s Greece: A Musical Odyssey. I had no idea what they were singing about, but I loved hearing it, and it helped my own words to flow.

Similarly, when I wrote my novel set in Italy, I had plenty to choose from, including loads of opera, plus the wonderful vocal instruments of Andrea Bocelli and Amaury Vassili.

My most recent novel is set in two different times and places. The contemporary thread is set in modern-day Australia, where both the main characters play the piano in a small jazz bar.

Piano music again – gosh, imagine that!

The historical thread was a little more complicated. This is set in 1960s South Africa, mostly up in the mountains of the Drakensberg. Originally this section was set in Peru, and while I had some beautiful music from South America, I found it impossible to write convincingly about a place I hadn’t been to, so I moved the location to Africa.

There is no shortage of African music in my collection, but the two characters in that part of the novel have a poignant story that is dogged by separation and loss, so the music in my head had to match. The sad classical music I chose was Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez. This is a long-time favourite and I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I own no less than seven different copies of that haunting second movement.

My current WIP is set in post-war Britain in 1955, so once again I get to hear my father’s big band jazz favourites from that era. However, there is an older storyline as well, and I’m still searching through my collection to find something that best suits the words in my head.

Writers and readers out there, do you enjoy listening to music as you write or read? If so, what puts you in the right mood?

Foxy Thinking or Why Five-Year Plans Don’t Work

More than a decade ago I had the privilege of hearing Clem Sunter speak about scenario planning, and the book he co-wrote with Chantell Ilbury, called The Mind of a Fox: Scenario Planning in Action.

The occasion was a memorable day in itself – speech day and prize giving at Hilton College in the KwaZulu-Natal midlands, with guest speaker Nelson Mandela. Unfortunately, Mandela’s plane to Pietermaritzburg was delayed by bad weather and diverted to Durban, which meant that his entourage had an extra hour of road travel between Durban and Pietermaritzburg.

In itself a fortuitous example of scenario planning, the school had arranged a back-up speaker in case of delays. The tall grey-haired man in the front row was introduced as Clem Sunter and he occupied our minds for the next 45 minutes.

Foxes, he explained, have many dens and are adaptable in their habits, which is why they are called wily, and they know how to survive no matter what Fate throws at them.

Hedgehogs, on the other hand, are not very streetwise. They live in the same nest all their lives, hibernate in winter, and hide from danger by rolling into a ball to expose their spikes in the hope that the danger will leave them alone. They talk big and make five year plans that go awry when a fox moves into their territory and disrupts their comfortable lives, making them afraid to leave their comfy holes.

Foxes often eat hedgehogs despite the spikes. The wily fox will find a way around the spikes.

The fox thinks on his feet, is intuitive and uses his imagination to show him the way. In life, we cannot predict the future. All we can do is try to be as informed as possible so that we can make the right decisions when problems arise along the way. Life is a series of small steps taken one at a time – often with little knowledge of what lies ahead – so it is a waste of time trying to plan every step in advance.

We know the route we will drive to work each day, but we cannot wait for all the traffic lights to be green before we leave home. If there are delays or road-works we will deal with each as we reach them. If we know our territory we can choose another road and get to the same place without too much trauma.

It is this choosing of an alternate option that uses our fox-brains and allows us to plan alternate scenarios.

Sunter explained to the school the relative simplicity of scenario planning, as if approaching a crossroads. What are the rules? What are the uncertainties? What are your options? Which one do you choose? The better informed we are, the better decisions we can make.

Out in the wild, a fox does the same things. If he’s hungry and goes in search of food, he may find a hedgehog.

What are the rules? The hedgehog will roll into a ball and expose his spikes.

What are the uncertainties? The fox may go hungry, or he may trick the hedgehog into exposing his softer flesh. Or he may get a mouth full of spikes.

What are his options? Try the hedgehog or move on in another direction and find a bird or rabbit instead. Crossroads after crossroads, the fox will make the relevant decisions based on each situation and keep moving.

I’ve always loved hedgehogs and thought they were cute. I still do. I have a healthy respect for foxes, though, and have looked at their habits with fresh eyes since that Speech Day at Hilton College.

How does this relate to me personally? Should all delicate hedgehogs start observing foxes and learning from their habits? Perhaps we have already started.

In my first year of working I mapped out my first five year plan. Six months later it blew up when I took unpaid leave to travel around Europe with the love of my life. My priorities changed, so did my goalposts. When I returned from Europe I discovered that I hated my job. It wasn’t turning into what I had planned for my life. I was frustrated by the narrow thinking and the small minds that burrowed in the dark, finding fault with everyone else. Things they did were old-fashioned and petty, but that’s how they had done it for years. Everything they stood for seemed outdated or directionless.

I left that job and attempted training in a completely different field: pharmaceuticals. That lasted three days before I admitted I was wasting both my time and theirs. They appreciated my honesty and wished me well as I left. Faced with uncertainties, I weighed up my options. Within days I had begged a friend for a ticket to a theatre opening night, knowing that two production managers for two separate theatre companies would be there, and my plan was to quiz them both about prospective jobs. One was there, the other wasn’t, so I got talking to the one who was. He invited me to a meeting in his office a few days later, and I was hired.

My plan was to stick around for six months and see how it panned out. If I didn’t like it, I would find something else and move on. Already I was thinking like a fox and yet I would not hear of Clem Sunter for another twenty years. As it turned out, I really enjoyed that job. I found the less predictable atmosphere to be more creative, and I had much more fun there than in the first theatre.

I was never particularly good with numbers, could never balance my cheque book in my early years of working, and had found the management structure of my first job bewildering to say the least. My second job had one man at the top who made all the decisions, and a handful of us down below who carried them out, and things worked out reasonably well because we were all versatile and adapted easily to the constant changes.

Thinking back now, that second boss was a fox too, because he didn’t dwell on things that didn’t work. A forward-thinking entrepreneur who seized the moment, cut his losses, and was an excellent judge of his place in the market. I worked for him for three years, and only left because my father died and I returned home to stay with my mother for a few months.

For years afterwards, as I worked in other theatres around South Africa, something in me always wanted to do an MBA. During the 80s and 90s it became the “thing to do,” the thing you could swank about having done because it showed you were of above average intelligence. But for me, it was because I wanted to be able to analyse how and why businesses worked as they did. I wanted to find my own niche and make money doing a different kind of business. Something creative, in the craft line, but I wanted to go into it with my eyes open.

Eventually, after nearly 20 years in the workplace, I enrolled in the first level of an MBA programme. I found it fascinating. Various management models, types of structures, and so on – all very interesting. I finally saw clearly for the first time why my cheque book had never balanced! If only I had known it would be so simple…

In my second year of study, when we got to Business Research Methods, I began to see why theatre is such an unpredictable industry. You cannot take a sample and infer it on the whole. Yes, you can have all your ducks in a row, the best groundwork covered and all the research done to the nth degree, but it still won’t explain why audiences rush to see that particular show or stay away in droves from another that has all the same winning ingredients. I realised that theatre was different. Arts in general are different. Writing books is different too.

I am different and five year plans don’t work for me. If they did, I wouldn’t be sitting in Australia right now, loving the unpredictability of my life, and looking forward to the endless possibilities available. I’d be quaking in my boots somewhere, wondering what happened, why it all went wrong, and probably waiting for someone to rescue me.

Instead I am optimistic about my future and ready for anything. What are the rules? What are the uncertainties? What are my options? What will I choose? Even I don’t know yet, but I will work it out as I advance, and advance I will. The words of Australia’s national anthem Advance Australia Fair are ringing in my ears, ripe with opportunity.

Within a week of hearing Clem Sunter speak, I found and bought his book because his speech had left such a deep impression on me. In fact, that book is one of only two business books I brought to Australia with me. The other is Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, which was a gift from my best friend’s mother, before I began my MBA studies.

Why these two books, over all the others that I let go? Simple. They haven’t dated. They remain relevant. They are the best operational and strategic guidelines for life, and they make no false claims about hedgehogs following fantasy five year plans!

Five Years Down the Road

Five years ago yesterday, I began constructing my own website. At the time, I had been thinking about this for more than half a year. As a novelist with one eBook self-published on Amazon in December 2011, the next logical step was to get my name “out there” by creating some sort of author platform.

Six months before, I had discussed this with my three trusty writing buddies. We all had full-time jobs and we were all writing novels or novellas, so none of us had much spare time available. I suggested that together we start some kind of blog to give us a little exposure on the World Wide Web. If each of us wrote a post once a month, then together the site would have a new post once a week. We decided that this was manageable.

Thus, Scribbling Scribes was born in February 2012.

Within the next few months I decided that I needed my own website as well. We had begun Scribbling Scribes on Weebly, and the process was simple, so that was the platform I chose for my website. I launched the eBook version of my novella on Amazon on June 8, 2012, and began building my website on Weebly the very next day. Less than two weeks later, my website went live, on June 21.

I had great fun constructing all the pages – my bio, my favourite books about writing, the blurbs of my two books (including links to their product pages on Amazon), other links to my Goodreads and Amazon author pages, and a gallery with some of the photos used as inspiration during the writing of those books. I also constructed a contact form so that visitors to my website could get in touch with me. And they have. I’ve had messages from far and wide, friends both new and old.

Before the launch of my third book a few months later, I started a blog on the same website, to keep readers informed of my writing progress.

Two years on, we moved Scribbling Scribes to WordPress, and within three months I had migrated my blog to WordPress as well, but I kept the archive on my website. I also started a second blog about working in the theatre industry, but since leaving that industry two years ago I don’t often post on it any more.

So how has my writing career progressed in the five years since I started my website? Feast and famine, it must be admitted. The fourth novel took ages to write and was finally uploaded as an eBook exactly a year ago today. My excuse is that I was distracted by moving house twice in South Africa, before the giant move from there to Australia, where it has taken me a while to find my feet.

My fifth novel is half-written; the second half slipped into the background of my life while I was trying to get a job, and it has stayed there while I juggle two of them, one of which is a writing job.

All in all, I’m happy with where I am in life at the moment, but I do wish things would move a bit faster because I seem to be growing older. (How did that happen?!) However, I refuse to stand still and wait. I am trying to wring as much as I can out of life in general.

When my new boss found out my age (he’s twenty years older than I am), he told me I was a spring chicken and had at least another thirty years of work ahead of me. I wonder if that means he intends to keep me employed there for all of them…

Those who follow this blog regularly will know that I regard every experience in life as research for future novels, so let’s just say that I’m doing an awful lot of research at the moment!

Life as a Shopgirl and Pen-for-Hire

My circumstances have finally changed. In the last month I have gone from being unemployed and fairly desperate, to being partially employed in two places. Ah, the relief!

Since October last year I have been volunteering for an organisation which helps the needy. I work in their shop three afternoons a week, sorting, pricing and selling donated goods. I enjoy it and I have made some good friends while getting some much needed retail experience. Some of the volunteers have also worked in a nearby fresh food shop, and one of them told me to apply there, because the owners always seemed to need people. I did, and I was taken on for three days a week. I have now been gainfully employed there for two weeks, and yesterday I received my first payment. Yay!

So what’s it like being employed again after all this time? It feels fantastic. Rude jokes about Shopgirls and Checkout Chicks don’t touch me – it’s great to have a job!

In my last blog-post I wrote a little about my new internet writing experience. Having completed the first month’s contract, I can honestly say that it’s been fun too. Here’s how that all happened:

I applied to an internet writing site about six months ago. This is a site which supplies daily content to its various clients around the world. They have writers on their books from America, Canada, the UK and Australia. At the time, they didn’t have any vacancies for writers in Australia, but in January that changed. They asked me for a sample piece, which I wrote and sent to them. They liked it enough to put me on their waiting list until they had a contract. I was told that this typically takes three to four months.

I forgot about it in the Greater Job Search, but in April they offered me a contract for 10 short articles, to be delivered at intervals until the end of that month. Payment is always at the end of the following month, so I would only be paid for these at the end of May. I agreed.

This type of work has been a new experience for me. It’s a challenge that I’ve enjoyed, and it’s helped me to flex my long-dormant writing brain, which is always a good feeling. Basically, I have to find news from certain suburbs where their client has branches, write a set number of words about it, including at least one of their specified keywords. I spend a lot of time scouring the internet looking for what sometimes seems impossible, and then construct a short piece about it. Each one takes me about two days to find the news, and half a day to write the piece. When it’s done I start on the next.

After I had sent off the first few, they offered me an extra four because another of their Australian writers had a temporary problem. I took it on, probably against my better judgement because (as we all know) I am not a fast writer.

It was a bit nerve-wracking, but the good news is that I managed to deliver my full fourteen articles on time, and now I have another fourteen articles to deliver in May. And money at the end of it.

My poor novel is still a work-in-progress, but now that the Job Search is out of my head, I am open to ideas again. My notebook goes everywhere with me, because researching life is also researching for my writing.

At this stage I’m not sure what the future holds for me in Australia, but it’s certainly looking a whole lot better than it did just a month ago. I’m writing, I’m earning, and I’m happy!

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 7: When Life Gets in the Way

One of the greatest joys in my life is to be able to sit down and work on my current novel. I like nothing more than to have an empty day stretching ahead of me, plenty of tea and a few tasty snacks to nibble. I love to huddle over my computer with two cats nudging each other out of the way for lap space, and my head in another world for hours on end as I take my characters ever closer to the final page’s sail into the sunset. Sheer bliss!

Unfortunately, reality intrudes. Life gets in the way for all of us, and while that’s not a bad thing, it can be frustrating when you’re trying to keep track of a tenuous work-in-progress.

This is one of the reasons why I like to have my novel’s working outline constantly close at hand. Even if I haven’t written anything in weeks, all I need at the start of a long-overdue writing session is a few minutes to glance over the outline and read my notes about which piece of it I worked on last time, then I’m back in the hot seat, fired up and ready to go.

Sadly, that hasn’t happened for a while now.

Before April started, I signed up for Camp NaNoWriMo, in a determined attempt to add to the word count of my as-yet-unfinished first draft. All I had to do was find time to write about 1000 words a day. Halfway through the month, I had to reduce my target to 700 words a day, but I have still failed. We all have our excuses, and here are mine:

First, the job I supposedly got back in March was snatched from me at the eleventh hour. I still don’t know what happened, but it seems to have been a combination of bureaucracy and a faulty message system. Suffice it to say that I had to start all over again from scratch, looking for a new job. Disheartening to say the least!

Second, a writing contract that I applied for back in January came up at last. Ten small articles online, but it’s quite fun and a good chance to stretch my writing muscles in new ways. (Plus there’s a little bit of money to be made, which is very welcome.) So instead of writing anything else, I have spent the last two weeks searching for material for the client’s business, and each article I write takes me about a day longer than it should. I will get faster, so they keep telling me…

Third, in answer to my ever-lengthening quest for a job, I have been given the chance to prove myself in a busy fresh food store, with a few casual shifts per week to bring in some much-needed money. I trained today and will start officially tomorrow.

Suddenly life has got in the way of writing. I’m very grateful that at last I can start to get my life back on track and move forward. But where does this leave me, writing-wise?

No need to panic. I’ve got this sorted. I’m going to carry on as before. I’m adaptable. I’m a writer, after all. It will just take me a little longer.

While I can’t always stay glued to the computer, that doesn’t mean I have to stop thinking about my story, its characters and their situation. I will always remain open to new bits of research that serendipitously drop into my lap from time to time. I believe in synchronicity with writing. Whether we attract things to us, or they find us by chance is not important here. What is important is that odd ideas pop into the heads of writers all the time, particularly when injected with the stimulation from a new work environment.

My blog-writing and my newsletter-writing have been halted as well as my novel-writing, but I’ll get back on track just as soon as I can sort out and adapt to my new schedule. And I’m sure my writing will be the richer for it in the long run.

Bear with me. I will return…

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 6: First Draft

In this series on the writing of a novel, it’s important to remember that none of these steps happen in isolation. All of them work together to create a cohesive blueprint on which to expand a new novel. Today’s post takes a look at the first foray into the actual writing of the proposed novel: the first draft.

The initial decisions about setting, characters and synopsis all form part of what I call the set-up stage. Construction of the outline, or chapter breakdown, and the timeline would be the first part of the drafting stage. Drafting is the longest stage in the creation of a novel, because each draft needs to be a newer, better version of the same thing.

The number of drafts not only varies between writers, but can vary between each writer’s own work. Looking back on my own novels, I can see that my first (unpublished) novel had no real direction at all. I stewed over that for years, trying to polish a mediocre sow’s ear into the silk purse it just wasn’t. So many versions existed on my hard drive and none of them were an improvement on the previous effort.

Likewise my second (unpublished) novel was poked at and prodded for several years with no real improvement because the original plan was lacking something I couldn’t pinpoint. I finally hit my stride after doing a creative writing course which gave me new hope and direction, because it sorted out my writing process. This was while writing my novella From Daisy with Love.

The most valuable suggestion I received after that course and novella were completed, was that I should write a completely new work instead of constantly trying to fix the two old novels on my hard drive; works that were really only practice runs.

After that my work became more streamlined and for my next novel I began to work on the system which I have documented in this series on The Anatomy of A Novel.

I think it’s important here not to become too obsessed with composing a winning first line or a stunning opening paragraph. It’s only a draft and, as the great writers tell us, you can edit a bad draft, but you can’t edit a blank page.

South African writer John van de Ruit once told me that he (figuratively speaking, of course) vomits it all onto the page first, then he sorts out the diced carrots from the peas afterwards. I couldn’t have said it better myself. He’s a better writer than me, so listen to him because he’s right. Get it down so that you have something to work on when you’ve finished that first draft and are ready to start on the next. There will be millions of tiny changes along the way, and the first draft is not the place to get all pedantic about sentence structure and perfect literary prose.

There are more important things to fix in a first draft. For me, fixing the story is of prime importance long before I think about subtle nuances of mood, emotion and sparks between characters.

A first draft is just that: a draft. The first of several. Despite being a planner, a plotter, and an outliner, I can still get part way through a draft and decide that something is not quite right and needs fixing. This is very often a question of pace and progression.

For example, it’s pointless writing a detailed four-page scene describing a meeting between two characters, if there’s a chance that the scene may later be cut. The scene may be beautifully written, but if it doesn’t serve the story by revealing character or moving the plot along, it is nothing more than dead wood. If the pace is too slow or the progression of the plot over those four pages is minimal, then the scene may not be needed.

Don’t just keep the scene because you enjoyed writing it. It’s the thought of all that waste of beautifully written prose that inspires the phrase “to kill your darlings.” The worst reason to keep a scene in a novel is because you loved writing it and it’s one of your favourite scenes. Better to have written a skeleton of it in your outline, or a few paragraphs in your rough draft, that can easily be cut down or removed altogether. It can also later be expanded if the plot calls for it to be a more revealing or pertinent scene.

Sometimes a first draft reveals major plot holes that weren’t visible in the synopsis or chapter breakdown. Better to fix a problem that stretches over a few paragraphs, than one which runs to several pages.

Perhaps the best thing of all about a first draft is when your gutsy characters begin to react to your plot in a way that is true to their characters, but not to the plot you are trying to manipulate them into. Suddenly they want to do something different from what you had planned.

When this phenomenon happens, rather than try to force the plot onto them, sit back, relax and rejoice, because it means you have created real characters with their own personalities and reasons for doing things. Nothing delights me more than a character who says to me, “Sorry, but I’m not going to do that. I’m going to do this instead.”

Right there, on the page, they begin to carve out their own path and I realise they are correct. I then have no option but to follow them in their new direction, and write it down as it happens – in brief, of course, because it may all change later…

This will mean a major re-working of the synopsis, the outline and possibly a different outcome for the novel itself, but that’s the fun of writing. What else would a writer do without the excitement of creating a new work that surprises even its own author?

Anatomy of A Novel: Part 5: Timeline

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I do a timeline for every novel I write. I don’t always do it before I start writing, but when I start to get muddled about where in the first week my characters are, I sit down and work my way through the text, pinpointing which day is which, and adjusting my outline to reflect the timeline. Once that’s done, I find it easier to move forward.

And backward. Into my timeline goes all the relevant historical info that I might use to inform the novel’s backstory as well. Because I tend to be something of a stickler for details, I need to know that every part of my story rings true (at least in my little world), and part of this means that I cannot afford to be sloppy about what one character might have told another, out of context, about some historical event. If it’s likely to be mentioned anywhere in the novel, its dates are found and inserted into the relevant year, month or week.

It may sound rather limiting to have a rigid structure like a timeline, but writing within certain parameters can also help with plot tension. Also, each novel I write has a slightly different format, and once my timeline rings true, the writing can flow better. I don’t want to end up 30,000 words down the line with somebody’s father having told a character in great detail about something he witnessed, only to discover that the father hadn’t been born at the time of the incident.

My historical novella From Daisy with Love was set against the First World War, and was partly inspired by my grandmother’s work as a letter-writer during that war. I also had my grandfather’s war diaries of the same time period, which were useful in that they provided a very real timeline, both for the action he witnessed and for the action he complained of missing.

The Daisy timeline started with the birthdates of both my grandparents, was supplemented by personal events – the death of Daisy’s parents, the marriage of her sister – and world events such as the sinking of the Titanic, the discovery of Machu Picchu in Peru, the start of the war and the battle of Delville Wood in which so many South African soldiers died.

Although it seems that linear tales are told in my contemporary novels The Epidaurus Inheritance and Benicio’s Bequest, there was more to this process than simply making sure that each day of the week tied up with the action I had planned for the characters. Certainly the timeline for one of these turned out to be more involved than the aforementioned historical novella because it included even more historical backstory than a world war.

The timeline for The Epidaurus Inheritance eventually ran to seventeen pages – I kid you not! – and was extremely complicated. It started with six pages of notes about the various events in Greek and Turkish history which would be mentioned or touched on in parts of the book. Four pages of detailed timeline followed, covering post-classical Greece from 336 BC when Alexander the Great took over from his father who was assassinated, including Lord Elgin’s removal of the Parthenon marbles in 1801, as well as Schliemann’s various excavations of Troy and Mycenae, and ending with the exile of Greece’s King Constantine in 1967.

Here’s where the interesting stuff starts, but the timeline still hasn’t reached the start of the novel yet: the next three pages take me from the birth of my two main characters in 1973 and 1978, through their individual backstories up to the start of the novel in June 2010, when these two characters finally meet during the play festival at Epidaurus.

Only the last four pages of this timeline show the progression of the actual novel itself: a week by week breakdown of the four weeks of action in the novel, noting what happens on each day during those four weeks leading to the novel’s climax and resolution, and the final aftermath two weeks later.

I know it sounds like an epic in itself, but I did promise you an anatomy of a timeline and this is probably the most detailed one I wrote. In fact, I reused parts of it again while compiling the timeline for my later novel The Trojan Legacy, where I used bits of that timeline which I hadn’t used before.

The Trojan Legacy timeline is only twelve pages long. The first six pages consist of relevant bits condensed down from the first ten pages of the Epidaurus timeline. (I have a fascination for this time period and I will more than likely delve into this mine of information in future novels too.)

The next page is character Frank Lyzbarta’s timeline. Most of this is the story that Bobby tells Regina and the others in his bar in the early pages of the book, but it also includes the information that Bobby discovers later in Frank’s prison diary. The next two pages are Marcus and Ellen’s timeline, from their births in 1930 and 1934 respectively, their backstory up till their meeting in 1962, and onwards from that time for the next few months, which is the total of their story in the book.

The next page covers the bridge between those two characters and the two modern-day characters. The final two pages cover the time from the births of Bobby and Regina in 1981 and 1987, to their meeting at the start of the novel, and their involvement in piecing together the story of their grandparents throughout the novel, as well as the continuation of their own story together.

Over the years I seem to have become more adept at filtering out of those giant timelines the stuff I don’t need. The timeline for Benicio’s Bequest is only five pages and most of it centres on the daily activities of the four week period of the novel’s action, but the first page has several important notes about incidents in Florence before the start of the novel (long before the births of its two main characters). Not all of this was used, but I found it useful to know and keep in mind while I was writing.

In my current work-in-progress Oxford Baggage my timeline is nowhere near complete at three and a half pages, but I can guarantee it will grow more before the novel is finished. It spans three distinct eras: 1955 which is the era in which the main story takes place; the first half of the twentieth century which is glimpsed through flashbacks and references to World War 2, as well as discoveries about the childhood lives of the characters before that war; and the third era concerns important historical happenings that the main characters will uncover about the Tudor and Elizabethan era in England.

Even now, with the first draft of the novel only halfway through at 50 000 words, I am still finding new bits of information that I want to include, and these all involve more research, more fodder for my timeline, and thus endless new possibilities for my novel.