I remember once hearing that the guy who wrote “Captain Corelli’s Mandolin” (Louis de Bernières) took ten years to write his book.
Ten years!
I couldn’t imagine it. My drafts took 3 – 6 months to churn out, and I thought each and every one was magic, brilliant, and perfect. They were not to be touched. So I would put them away for a while and concentrate on the next book, the next idea, because I love starting new projects. Turns out, I like ending them too, but my start list is always longer than my finished list.
Then, eventually, I would pick up one of the drafts that I’d finished, and read it again. My first drafts would take anywhere between 2 – 10 months to become second drafts. Second drafts took longer to become third. Sometimes they didn’t even make it to that stage, as they’d get halfway through the re-write and edit process and I’d move on to something else.
Months become years. Years become more years. Time has a way of just moving on without you realising. And the edits become smaller and smaller. The drafts might be labelled 6, 7, 8, but the changes between them are minimal. And then comes the magic time when I realise I’m only doing spelling corrections.
The book is ready. How long has it been between first and seventh draft?
Ten years.
I have a habit of sticking “Copyright (date)” on the top of every first draft, not just because it’s a good practice, but because I want to know when I started the book, and when I finished it. When it’s published, the date of publish becomes the true Copyright date, and by that stage the characters and places are like old friends.
I started “The Colour of her Magic” in 2006. That’s 19 years between first draft and published book. Strangely, it doesn’t feel like a lot. It feels about right.