My First Attempt at Writing a Novel

Man, I love to read; I just consume words, but just because someone reads a lot doesn't mean they can write well—well, for me anyway. I found that out when I decided to write a novel, “Titan’s Daughter.” It was during those days when the world stood still and we were all trapped at home. Back then, my days transformed into this monotonous blend of TV and even more reading than usual. It was almost as if I were on autopilot, moving from one activity to the next without truly engaging. Until one day, it dawned on me that every show I binge-watched and every book I was consuming was the ripened fruit of someone else’s imagination, someone who took the time to organize their thoughts.

I subsequently thought to myself, "Why not try my hand at writing?" I mean, with all this free time, why not write down at least one of the many stories swirling in my head? I’ve had one idea for a while now; it's about a demi-titan. When her titan blood awakens, her power becomes the most coveted prize in the universe. As she battles to control her emerging abilities, with the help of her friend, she sets out on a journey, defending herself against demigods and bloodthirsty monsters. I decided it was time to see what I could do with this idea.

Up until that moment, I'd never actually written something simply because I wanted to. I'd always admired authors, happily absorbing their words and daydreaming about my own stories. Yet, suddenly, here I was, gaslighting myself into thinking I could write not just a short story but an entire novel. But with that, of course, comes self-doubt and thoughts like, "Am I delusional?" "Could I craft sentences like so-and-so?" had to creep in. Nonetheless, I took the plunge. But as I took the plunge, the stark difference between envisioning a story and actually writing it down hit me hard. It was like starting to run a marathon and then realizing that running it without preparing for it was worlds apart. Just because I can run doesn't make me a marathoner.

Just because I read a lot doesn't automatically turn me into some Shakespearean savant. I realized just how hard it is to organize my thoughts into something coherent. Every sentence I attempted to write, my own shortcomings stared back at me from the computer screen. Crafting prose, which always seemed so effortless when written by someone else, for me was like assembling furniture without an instruction manual. Needless to say, I was having a difficult time writing prose. Then came even more doubts: "Was I fooling myself?" "Did I bite off more than I could chew?" Yet, I just didn’t want to give up; I wanted to see my thoughts come alive. I took the challenge head-on. After all, I had plenty of time on my hands; this was a great time to learn something new.

So, like a lot of people nowadays, when they want to learn something new, they turn to YouTube University. I started watching videos about writing, especially Reedsy. I'd often pause, replay a segment and scribbling notes, comparing their advice to my own attempts at writing. They offered some good advice, and I could feel some understanding piecing together. But while they were helpful, I felt that this piecemeal learning from different videos wasn't enough. I felt like I needed a more structured approach. That was when, almost serendipitous, while watching one of the videos, a commercial about an online learning platform named Coursera came on.

I signed up for the Plus subscription, which gave me access to their entire catalog. I enrolled in both the Creative Writing Specialization and Good with Words courses, hoping they'd fill in the gaps, and they did. The way each lesson and each module dissected writing techniques and provided examples was quite a revelation. To say these two courses helped me understand the writing process would be an understatement. I felt like a child taking their first step. But more than the techniques and strategies was the realization that a lot of thought and preparation go into writing, even before the first letter is written. It was like finding the wizard behind the curtain, fiddling with his gadgets for his spectacular illusions. Every story that I’ve ever read now takes on a new meaning, making me appreciate the unseen labor that gave them life.

In all of it, there was one thing the "Good with Words" instructor said that stuck out to me: “To write good sentences, you have to read good sentences,” something that applies to both prose and nonfiction essays.

I found myself looking back on all the books and articles I'd read over the years and realizing that although I read a lot, I wasn’t really reading to learn anything; I was reading as a form of entertainment, which was fine in itself. “But the core of good writing is often rooted in the art of diligent reading.” So, once I switched to at least understanding what I was reading, how one sentence flowed into another, and began to notice how a feeling or thought is contextualized by an author and how form is executed to grab the reader’s attention, I slowly began to capture my thoughts better than I did before.

The journey with this novel was a roller coaster. At times, the words flowed effortlessly, and then sometimes I found myself staring at a white screen. Eventually, I abandoned the novel, but not before laying down the rough draft. Even if it wasn't perfect, creating something from scratch felt good. While the novel may have been set aside, I got hooked on writing and decided to pivot into online writing. I’ve been at it for nearly three years now, and every article is a reflection of my first attempt at writing a novel. Still, the appeal of writing prose never quite left me. The occasional dabble in short stories became my creative outlet to express what I'd learned.

Recently, I decided to circle back to the spark that started my writing journey. And over the past several weeks, I’ve been editing, diving back into the world I first created. There has been some growth, as you can see from these excerpts from both versions of the novel.

• This is an excerpt of my first attempt

The sun cast a dim yellow hue onto the forest as it struggled to stay above the horizon. Gaea has walked this forest countless times. She actually feels at home among the trees and the animals.

They are drawn to her as she is to them, and the only thing she is worried about is some random squirrel crossing her path. It’s usually not this quiet. An uneasy feeling crept into her mind, so she quickened her pace.

Notice how bland it is, with each sentence simply telling the story.

• To my latest version

The setting sun drenched the forest in a washed-out yellow and orange hue, casting stretched and odd-angled shadows. As Gaea pushed through the sepia-filtered woods, diffused with an air of familiarity, a sense of unease crept over her.

This was her forest, her domain. She had walked this very path more times than she could count, each tree and creature an old, trusted friend. They were like a part of her, curiously drawn to her, as if acknowledging her as one of their own.

But something was off. An unsettling feeling had descended; the usually bustling sounds of the forest reduced to stillness. It felt as if the forest and time itself were holding their breath, waiting for something—or perhaps someone.

As you can see, the revised version isn’t great, but it’s clearly got more meat on it with “showing and not telling.”

To get from where I was to where I am now is a personal accomplishment. Still, I know that I have a long way to go. Looking back from then to now, I’ve learned to read with purpose and write with intent.

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If you like, you can read Titan's Daughter here