If you’ve never been round my house (and most of you haven’t, as far as I’m aware) you won’t have seen what is just before Bernard Cornwell on my bookshelves (for they are alphabetised, of course). It’s a book by Gavin Collins (that’s me). It was a birthday gift; a few self-published copies of the first novel I wrote. I love seeing it up there.

The novel itself is a bit painful though. I won’t bang on about it, but suffice to say it’s not good. I’ve since written another, which is slightly less not good. I’m now writing a third, for which I have aspirations of at least mediocrity. Steady improvement, see?

I’ve learned a bunch in writing these, but I tell you the big lesson, the huge one – never write unless you feel like it (dummy).

It hit me one day, a little way into the second novel. Every passage that sucked, every chapter that blew – they were mostly written at a time when I said “right, boyo, you need to get a couple thousand words done. I don’t care that you’re not feeling it, just sit down and bang out some goddamn copy.”

That, people, is a recipe for just terrible stuff. It really is.

I bring this up because I’ve been listening to and reading a few author interviews where they talk about their “writing sessions”, and it just plain depressed me. The idea that, regardless of levels of inspiration, there are set times when you must sit down and write SOMETHING. This here writing thing is a pleasure, right? It’s not a chore, and if it’s approached as such, it’ll make for pretty sticky reading.

Course, I know I’m speaking from a position of luxury. I’m lucky enough (ha!) not to be published. I don’t have deadlines to meet. I write in my spare time, and so can pick and choose when to do it. It took me two years a pop to finish the first two novels, and I’m guessing this one will take just as long. I’m working at my own speed.

I’m also aware everyone has a different process, for want of a less wanky term. Some people can force themselves to sit down and still churn out strings of gold. But I’m guessing they’re few and far between. No matter what you’re talking about (writing, cooking, sports, whatever), we all do our best stuff when we’re enjoying it, right?

And without wanting to lace this whole piece with caveats, I’m also aware that anything worth achieving probably has some hardship in there. Some times when you just have to slog through. But with writing, it seems to me the slog is in certain aspects of the planning and the editing, not in the writing itself, right? Right?

Course, I’ve learned other things in my writing efforts. Plenty of stuff that gives me hope for my current endeavour. Things like theme and structure and characterization. But the big lesson remains this one. It remains the absolute certainty that writing should remain fun, and the second it isn’t, then down tools.

So go make hay. Read and write and be merry. And if you’re not merry, go get a biscuit instead.

(Oh, and if this has whetted your appetite, go give a short story or two a spin here.)