Rob Rattenbury: Mastering the art of telling stories harder than expected

Rob Rattenbury finds writing fiction is a much tougher job than his non-fiction work. Photo / 123rf

OPINION

I’ve been a bit busy lately in the office.

I have been known to write a book or two of non-fiction New Zealand history. About a year ago I thought I’d give fiction a crack. How hard can it be? Everyone is doing it.

Now, I have not written a fiction work since my school days which ended in the late 1960s. My writing has all been facts, nothing but the facts and all the facts. Reference books, citing others, research, trying to get the truest picture of whatever. Investigating stuff.

Well, it is a bit of a challenge to then sit down and make up a story that has to be at least 70,000 words and, hopefully, interesting and entertaining.

I started with great gusto, building characters, developing the plot, using scenarios I’m familiar with.

Writer friends always say “write what you know about”.

Getting over the fear of perhaps being wrong or ridiculous. Learning to play in my own sandpit, my imagination; not seeking the approval of others. My little world.

It has been a new experience to be enjoyed. I have the time but do I have enough imagination, enough forethought?

But 12,000 words in, it all dried up. Darn. I had heard that writers and poets dry up all the time. The brain just decides enough is enough and the creative flow stops. What to do?

I got up and walked away for nearly a year. I wrote other stuff. I wrote some more non-fiction on a commission for some other people. I concentrated on this column and other writing activities.

All the time I was thinking about that unfinished work sitting in my saved documents. I don’t like walking away from a challenge. I chatted to some others in the game. They just said things will start again in time, relax.

Probably without consciously thinking too much about the fiction work, I got through the angst of it all. Put it almost behind me until about three weeks ago. Then the way became clear. I had a moment of pure clarity. That’s rare in my old mind.

Since then it’s been all go, every day.

I am used to writing every day. That is the name of the game for people who enjoy writing. It is like painting or cooking; the more you do it, the better you might get at it. “Might” being the operative word.

I have been spending mornings cranking out thousands of words and afternoons reviewing those words in my head while actually doing something else - housework, grandie-minding, relaxing in the Lay-z-boy watching my favourite streaming channels, reading other fiction writers - successful ones.

It’s an enjoyable discipline. It will end soon, I can see the conclusion. Then will follow weeks of revising, editing, adding and tidying up.

I then have to decide if I am brave enough to share it with a publisher or three. Am I bold enough to handle the rejection most writers suffer at some stage? I am overdue for it as I have yet to suffer that particular hurt.

Non-fiction is somewhat safer than fiction. As I said, it’s all facts, easy; the interesting part is to present those facts in an easily readable way - to bring one’s own style into something that can be somewhat pedestrian to read, history.

Fiction I am finding is very different. Storytelling, an ancient craft started thousands of years ago around campfires at night to entertain others or to soothe frightened children. A very human activity.

Will someone be brave enough, or perhaps rash enough, to publish my first piece of make-believe? I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll find out in the coming months.

If so, that’s great. It will sell or it will not. No big deal. I don’t write to get rich, I just like writing.

It’s a historic piece set in 1972 New Zealand. Now that does not seem that long ago to many but it’s more than 50 years ago. Different fashions, cars, social behaviour, values and outlooks. All good stuff to think about and write about.

Stick some attractive and unattractive characters together with a very nasty plot. See what happens. Yes, there is violence, gore and anguish. There is also humour and humanity, even love.

It is based on a life I knew a long time ago, to me now another life altogether, another world. It is very different to modern-day life. It’s about people I knew then - flawed people, successful people, damaged people and very bad people.

No matter the outcome, I am enjoying trying something new.

It is said everyone has a book in them. It is also said perhaps that book should often stay in them. Time to find out I suppose.