As I did my recent big edit of my first novel, I kept a list of ideas and thoughts of things I might like to change in the story or stuff that I thought might still be able to be improved. Because I was finishing it up with a deadline in mind (to submit it to the ABNA contest), then the list still exists. I didn’t do every single thing I’d thought of.
Will my novel ever be finished, really?
That’s a very good question. Some of the stuff on the list is mere speculation – could I include some extra description here or there for a character or setting – stuff I would need to sit down and really consider if it improves the novel in any way or not; just ideas that I had as I went along, basically.
Other points on the “still to do” list are about character development – could I go through the novel again and smooth out the development over time of the main characters a little bit more? The main reason this is still on the list is that I tried to do this, and couldn’t. I simply couldn’t read with “new enough” eyes to figure out what a normal reader would understand about a character through actions and description as the story moves along, and therefore I was unable to really plot the development of the characters. Perhaps this is something I could do if I set the novel aside for another couple of months and came back with fresh eyes again; perhaps it’s something I’ll get better at doing with more experience.
Are any novels really finished?
After much angst, I realised that my husband is the same with his paintings, and I felt a little better. There are dozens of his canvases that were considered good enough to bring all the way here from Germany, but most of them are in a pile in the wardrobe because they’re unfinished. What’s more, the paintings that hang on our wall – that everyone who sees them, including me, assumes are finished – mostly also belong to the “unfinished” category, according to the artist.
A while ago I heard an interview with a novelist – I just can’t remember who it was – who said that she never reads her published novels again if she can help it – because she always finds things that she would change. That gives me still more reason to think I’m not insane here but perhaps even a little bit normal.
Can anyone help me out here? Whatever your artistic endeavour, do you actually reach a point where you’re happy with it and truly believe it’s “finished”? Let me know in the comments.
had arrived – and my excitement was well-founded. This was a surprisingly easy read in that I’d expected it to be a bit more depressing – it is, after all, about a woman’s friend dying pretty much right in front of her, slowly and painfully – but it’s much more than that, because it’s so honest and, without meaning to be cliched, “refreshing”. It’s the kind of book that makes me really admire that a writer can make the writing process seem so effortless – you almost don’t notice the words.
to get a flavour of his work.
and his short story collection, 
. The Shark Net is set in the Perth that my parents came to when they moved to the city for work as teenagers, so it was great for me to get a picture of life at that time. The short stories in The Rip are also more engaging than any short stories I’ve read in a long time.
, her second novel after her Vogel/Allen & Unwin-winning 
. I read Road Story some time ago and hadn’t connected that this was the same writer until I read some of the blurb about it, but I remember really enjoying it. Beneath the Bloodwood Tree is set in the Pilbara region of Western Australia where I’ve spent a bit of time; it reminded me in some ways of my favourite Nikki Gemmell novel 
. Great characters, good plot and enough left up to the reader’s imagination to keep it interesting.